How JAŸ-Z Changed Everything

JAŸ-Z took over New York, brought a hustler’s mentality to hip-hop, and created a bigger movement. On the 30th anniversary of his debut Reasonable Doubt, hear how he switched up the game and other artists followed his blueprint.

After the death of his friend and peer The Notorious B.I.G. in 1997, JAŸ-Z picked up Biggie’s crown. He deftly made songs that took over the city’s streets, clubs, and airwaves—sometimes all at the same time. During JAŸ-Z’s most dominant era in the late ’90s and early 2000s, there were contenders to his throne who defined themselves by their differences from him—where he was smooth, they were rough; where he used nuance, they bulldozed. Jigga’s releases have slowed to a trickle in recent decades, and in that vacuum, new generations of borough-dwelling would-be royalty have stepped up and tried to recreate his worldwide reign. But they all know that the first step is to conquer New York. Like they say, if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.

In the pre-JAŸ-Z era, most rap songs about selling drugs took a blunt, street-level view. Hov switched the perspective to the penthouse, filling his lyrics with references to international connections and multi-level financial dealings. In the song “Rap Game/Crack Game” he explicitly drew a line connecting the two worlds, laying out how the rules and tactics were transferable between them. His disciples took notice and followed suit, recording elevated hustler tales and inflating their boasts about what this lifestyle had netted them. From Atlanta to Buffalo and back down to Miami, they filled in or embellished the details, giving regional slants to the job description JAŸ-Z laid out.

As cocky as JAŸ-Z could be, he balanced out his swagger by confessing the emotional toll of his decisions in his lyrics. He could be reflective. He could reveal his faults and regrets. He could make the song cry. No wonder he did so many tracks with Scarface from Geto Boys. In the ensuing years, aspiring MCs realized that if the biggest rapper in the world could show his weaknesses and wounds, they could open themselves up too. Some even based their entire careers on their insecurities. Not getting called soft was no longer the concern: It was whether they could make a deep enough connection through their vulnerability.

One of JAŸ-Z’s true talents is his ability to change with the times. He has continuously sought out innovative producers (The Neptunes, Just Blaze, Kanye West, Boi-1da...) and incorporated bubbling subgenres. Some of his beat selections seemed straight-up loony at first, but over time those sonics filtered into (and got dispersed throughout) the mainstream, frequently because of his hits. Savvy artists followed JAŸ-Z’s example and continually refreshed their sound, refusing to get locked into a single era.

Hip-hop had posses, crews, collectives, and indies before JAŸ-Z came around, but he escalated the label he co-founded into a name brand. Roc-A-Fella was both an organizing structure and a proof of concept for his loftiest goals. And when corporatization engulfed the culture in the early 2000s, the Roc was a launchpad for everything from roughneck Philly rappers to a multi-million-dollar clothing brand to JAŸ-Z’s stint as the president and CEO of Def Jam Recordings and current status as chairperson of Roc Nation. While other artists may not have this same level of ambition, many realize the power of surrounding yourself with like-minded individuals. You can create a culture and mythology around yourself, sometimes built from just a shared hometown, slang, and sense of style. The most successful movements simultaneously capture a specific perspective and speak to something bigger.