Everything but the Song: There are too many hip-hop debates on Twitter and it’s tiring

The topics that social media users, specifically tweeters, dedicate their energy and phone batteries to are exhaustingly repetitive. Whether discussing the merits of paying $200 for a date or their collective disdain for TMZ, there are a lot of discussions that aren’t worth having on the internet anymore. 

The worst of them all? Top *insert number here* rappers. 

Anyone who likes hip-hop and engages in debate on the subject via social media is familiar with the chaos that explodes when the rankings come out. Back in August, The Brew Podcast shared a list of the “Top 50 Greatest Rappers of All-Time,” with Jay-Z and Nas in the No. 1 and 2 spots, respectively, and then New Jersey’s Joe Budden at No. 3. I won’t explicitly say my opinion on the rankings, but one of the three is a rather bold and egregious placement. 

This week, in the spirit of the 2020 NBA All-Star Game, hosts of Complex Magazine’s online TV show “Everyday Struggle” conceived their own starting line-up of “2020 Rap All-Star,” which, of course, sparked debate on the rise of Roddy Rich and the reigning relevance of Drake.

All of this banter is great content for a full-blown production but translates into angry fans tweeting into the void on the app. Outside of these more popular occurrences, various accounts exist to discuss the genre in detail: think Genius’ Twitter account or @checktheryme1. 

While many of these online conversations spark healthy debate (and snide jokes), the majority of them lack serious nuance, and those who participate take themselves a bit too seriously. I’ve personally sacrificed hours of my life, using my dexterity to fight off internet trolls because of my off-beat opinions on hip-hop.  

There’s nothing I hate more than a 41-year-old fan obsessed with the golden era of hip-hop arguing with a 19-year-old Chance the Rapper fanatic over who is the “greatest rapper of all time.” Although there are some young people, like myself, dedicated to the genre from its New York conception to its current status, the average young adult will not rank KRS-One or Redman anywhere near the No. 1 spot. 

When the rap-centric Twitter debates arise, rap purists (think those who hate Lil Uzi and listen to “Illmatic” by Nas on a weekly basis) act as if they own the conversation surrounding what or who is considered to be the gold standard in the genre. And most times, frat boys who solely listen to Kanye West (or whatever new record is acceptable in white spaces) couldn’t name any of the classic records that came out in 1996 (“Reasonable Doubt,” “It Was Written,” “The Score,” “ATLiens,” etc.) 

It’s not to say that one side is more valid than the other, but debates over hip-hop are highly subjective to one’s age, race, region or just personal taste. When we hear DJ Akademiks’ God-awful takes or listen to The Joe Budden Podcast, although not perfect, there’s room for thorough conversation and for the show’s personalities to dive deeper into the “why” behind their choices. But a single tweet, capped at 280 characters, or even a thread of five to six tweets, simply will not suffice anymore as healthy conversation around rap music. 

The solution? I can’t force anyone not to talk about rap on Twitter; just the other day, my mentions were flooded after I said Drake’s “Tuscan Leather” was the “first skip” on his 2014 “Nothing Was The Same.” But I can encourage us all to not take these conversations or our opinions on music in general so seriously and personally. I also urge those who choose to confer about hip-hop to take the opinions of others, which float aimlessly in the Twittersphere, with a grain of salt. 

I’ve come to learn that not everyone will agree that Jay-Z is the greatest rap artist of all time, and that’s perfectly OK. Although I critique him fearlessly, I’m from the East Coast and listen to him every day as a means of survival — a stan, as some call me. My opinion, like all of these conversations, isn’t tethered to some algorithmic ranking system but rather human experience and emotion. 

Just like any healthy political debate, when someone disagrees with my position I take time to engage in the “why” behind theirs. There’s nothing better than listening to a personal rant about the music and artists people love and in turn being inspired to give a song or record a first look or second chance. 

In 2020, I want all of us hip-hop heads to use our Twitter fingers in a smarter way. The next time an account asks: “Which rapper has the best three-album run?” don’t argue with a friend but rather look at it as an experience to discover something new. 

Ellice Ellis is a senior writing about the music industry and social justice. She is also the Arts & Entertainment Editor. Her column “Everything but the Song” runs every other Wednesday.