94 'Til Infinity: "Illmatic," "Ready to Die," and the Art of Storytelling

Released months apart in 1994, "Illmatic" and "Ready to Die" influenced a generation of rappers.

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Complex Original

Image via Complex Original

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With the release of Nas' Illmatic and The Notorious B.I.G.'s Ready to Die, 1994 saw an evolution and diversification of the perspectives in hip-hop. 

Nas' debut may indeed be the most technically masterful rap album of the half-century. Respect. But giving daps and credit where they're due means recalling that 1994 was bigger than New York, and more immense than just Illmatic.

While the West Coast had already broken bad on the strength of Ruthless Records and Death Row, 1994 marked Atlanta, Houston, and Chicago's critical breakthrough into the heart of hip hop culture. OutKast's Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik debut, Scarface's five-mic The Diary, and Common's radical Resurrection all made inroads. N.W.A may have put L.A., specifically, on the map, but OutKast was Run-DMC for all of Dixie. Suddenly, New York was but one capital node in a whole wide world.

1994 framed an evolution and diversification of hip hop's creative perspective.

All that vast regional divergence aside, 1994 framed an evolution and diversification of hip hop's creative perspective. In New York, this played out as a contrast between Illmatic and the Notorious B.I.G.'s Ready to Die debut just five months later. Despite their both being street records, true to their respective boroughs, the difference between "The World Is Yours" and "Juicy," or between "Represent" and "Machine Gun Funk," is a matter of the authors' perspective. Nas is criminal-minded; Biggie is, well, a criminal and a cad. You know which one of the two men actually blasted that TEC, actually smashed that broad, etc.

Conventional thinking regards Illmatic as exemplary prose set to all the right scratches and breaks. Whereas Biggie's debut, itself a feat of lyrical miracle-working, is a more expansively engrossing narrative, told from the O.G.'s point-of-view. Comedian Maronzio Vance once described Ready to Die as "a gospel album" in its uplifting energy and theatrical sensibilities. For all of Illmatic's strengths, it's hardly the most fun or seductive or rebellious rap album you've ever heard. And for the latest generation that's weaned on trill-infused hip hop, there's maybe some risk that Nas, a decade from now, becomes the rap game's James Baldwin: You know you should check for him, he's good for you, he's incomparable, but all that technical hype reads like your parents' dumping broccoli in your lap. Meanwhile, "Juicy" is just fucking delicious.

It's a tension that's playing out now in the streets of Compton. Two years after Kendrick Lamar's good kid, m.A.A.d. city, YG and DJ Mustard just mapped an alternative blueprint of the L.A. soundscape with My Krazy Life, YG's debut from the gutter. Like good kid, My Krazy Life was aggressively marketed and surprisingly brilliant. For sure, the two projects appeal most of all to different corners of rap fandom, the lyrical camp and those that just wanna party. YG's got bars, but he's nonetheless a creature of beats and catchy cadence. Between them, though, YG and Kendrick share a certain quirky honesty. They undercut half their brags with cheeky contrapositives: "Now I ain't rich but I'm finna be."

Twenty years after 'Illmatic' vs. 'Ready to Die,' hip-hop's held together quite well.

What's most assuring about the L.A. rap scene right now is Kendrick and YG's comfortable coexistence—My Krazy Life includes three scoops of T.D.E., who've shared the stage with YG at a few venues to hype his debut. Together, the two camps are proving the compatibility of ign'ant shit and eloquence. Literary construction and sonic mood don’t have to be at odds. Listening to YG's "Sorry Momma" and Kendrick's "Sing About Me," it's clear that both artists honor the same craft.

Twenty years after Illmatic vs. Ready to Die, hip-hop's held together quite well. And as our own Insanul Ahmed argued last week, with DJ Mustard's dominance, T.D.E.'s supremacy, and YG's moment, Los Angeles has it all.

The variety of styles and sounds is, in fact, rather like literature—which is kin to hip-hop, no doubt. Chapters relate any given reality via any frame the author wishes, whether it be the dubious testimony of an implicated narrator, or else a jaded witness observing with notepad in hand. Immersive complexity, tender simplicity: both approaches are legit and have their ideal uses. May the paragraphs flourish.

Justin Charity is a writer in Brooklyn, NY who shouts out Richmond and D.C. He has a website here and you can also find him @BrotherNumpsa.

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