NCognita at Loyola University

BYLINE: Ashley Raymond

Stepping into this industry requires a few things: tough skin, a strong intuition, and a solid team. Most importantly, it requires a willingness to play. Everything listed here is interconnected and affects the ways we perceive and consume Hip Hop as a genre and as a culture. During her NewsOne Now interview in 2017, Issa Rae recounted an extremely vital lesson she learned during her journey creating Insecure—network across—aka put the homies on with you. Rae encouraged us to stay open in the spaces we occupy and see “who’s in the trenches with you…who’s as hungry as you”. She put this lesson into practice and planted her own seeds which grew to bear a plethora of fruit. Rae intentionally amplified Black creators throughout Insecure and continued to do so after the season finale inking deals with media and music conglomerates alike. 

She moved forward onto Raedio, a label she founded in 2019 with Atlantic Records to provide a space for artists to truly develop their works and to provide opportunities for growth. Rae started at home in California to scout for artists bubbling up in the underground and independent scene. Staying true to networking across, her latest signee is NCognita. The 21 year old is from South Central LA and is currently finishing up school at Loyola University in New Orleans. We took a visit to campus and spoke with her about her start in music and her experiences navigating this new level of artistry. 

NCognita integrating into Hip Hop and embodying what it means to be a rapper appears destined. She recalls being deeply involved in her community, performing, and becoming a resource to those around her. Her roots started in church, as with many Black artists, and expanded into poetry, spoken word, and theater. Experience shapes creation and NCognita’s presence in her craft and in her community are present in her sound and her performance as a rapper. In the thoroughly documented and historically disappointing politics of Hip Hop, female artists are left with minimal support and development. Often, there are swarms of predatory men and enabling women who do their best to reduce women down to their bodies and to uproot their artists’ uniqueness. These labels eventually grind their female artists to dust by projecting a persona onto them and prioritizing their power over advocating for the best interest of their artist. 

Again, we’re witnessing networking across in real time and that intentionality is not lost on NCognita. Her upbringing and artistic trajectory kept her aligned with her vision and swiftly placed her on Rae’s radar. She recognizes the importance of having authentic support where your humanity is acknowledged and where your work is respected and developed. For her, it simply isn’t about the optics of representation but the actual embodiment of it. Signing to a Black woman-ran label that was started with the mission to curate and provide opportunities and space for artists who look like her is the ideal space to occupy. 

For NCognita, it’s truly up from here. She understands who she is presently as an artist but she also doesn’t restrict herself from transformation and growth. As overwhelming as it is to be a full time student on the cusp of two life changing events, she is prepared. The energy she exudes is confident yet sanguine as she preps for this new avenue on her journey with excitement. Her optimism is refreshing and it’s quite clear that she has incredible faith in herself and in her team. Make sure to check out NCognita’s full interview and freestyle here at Bars On I-95.

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BYLINE: Ashley Raymond

Consumers of Hip Hop often conflate relevancy and popularity with talent and diligence. Label heads, executives and media magnates enforce this misconception by focusing more on generating revenue through illusion. Exorbitant amounts of time, money, and energy spent on a façade instead of intentional development and management leaving us with clones, physically and musically. Everyone selects the same fighter and the only difference is the color of their attire. We are unmoved by politics at Bars on I-95 because it distorts the connection between artistry and the ways in which we engage with it. It sends a false message, it leaves a false impression, but the “damage” reverberates through every layer of the industry leveling careers and livelihoods like tectonic plates colliding within the Earth’s crust.

Papoose is the artist we honored for this cardinal episode of “20 Years of Bars”. His impact on the culture is undeniable as is his ability to construct a spirited verse with masterful precision and depth. It was an overcast yet slightly humid Saturday afternoon when the Bars on I-95 team arrived in Manhattan at Volume Studios. We wanted to create a more immersive experience for our viewers and brought in 10 fans to be a part of the first live audience episode. Pre-production began around 12 with all of us moving at warp speed to set up lighting, sound, and seating. There was an air of novelty in the room; we were curating an experience in a way we had yet to explore. Our operations for the day were slightly unorthodox but we chose this moment to create the first of many vignettes into the life and career of veteran artists that are still with us today. 

The seismic pitfalls of the industry continue to push prodigious artists into undeserving obscurity. Papoose was graciously candid about his experiences throughout his 23 year career. The space between being a mainstream artist and remaining underground fluctuated for him as Hip Hop became prone to more destruction of its integrity. This genre was birthed from a place to connect and create through musicality and lyricism yet, the margins accrue talent that could only be found if you cared enough to dig and look into these artists yourself. Papoose explained how these shifts alter our understanding of the art of rapping and the way we measure quality and talent. He went on to say that “when it comes to the ‘top [five] list’, they be trying to sound cool...so they name drop certain artists that they don’t know nothing about” aka politics. These are the moments where it’s more than imperative to recognize what we uphold as a representation of this art we admire. Papoose frankly states that the lists are superficial and the creators of these “top” lists show no true interest in these artists as well as lacking knowledge in regards to their catalog—“anybody on my top list, I most likely can recite their whole album to you, word for word.”

His most renowned record, “Alphabetical Slaughter”, flows through each letter of the alphabet with agility like a cheetah pursuing its prey through the Serengeti. Inspired in his youth by Malcolm X, who while incarcerated, read the entire dictionary during his sentence. Papoose followed suit and knew in his youth that he was made to be an emcee. 23 years later and now a veteran of his own right, he reflects on the disconnect between younger and older artists. Echoing similar sentiments from our last piece, he recognized that “some of the younger artists...when they get challenged the first thing they do is pull the age card” and that’s not completely anecdotal. We remember those interviews where new artists insinuate how there’s no space for seasoned artists or certain traditions like freestyling fresh off the dome, see: Lil Yatchy or Lil Uzi early on in their careers. What younger artists fail to realize is those who came before them are the entire reason they can show up as they do now. There is space for teaching and understanding, but their audacity precedes them and now they have lost a resource and a potential ally. The maintenance of this mutual respect preserves the quality and caliber of Hip Hop at an elite level. 

The room grew increasingly still as we all became flies on the wall, attentively listening to the ways Papoose remained unrelenting in the pursuit of his dreams. The adversity he faced within himself and within the industry provided the fuel to his fire, however, there were times this left him singed with anger and frustration. He recalls the moment when he received his first major deal offer and how swiftly he accepted it. Record label executives recognize the hunger permeating from the underground and use that to leverage unsuspecting and naïve artists into shoddy deals and heavily restrict ownership and creative control. 
In hindsight, Papoose realized the mistake he made accepting that offer so quickly. He was working independently with DJ Kay Slay when he started receiving multiple offers. He explains how “Def Jam offered a deal...Atlantic came in with an offer, Interscope. Jive came in 1.5 [million]...as soon as [he] signed with the label, that shit slowed [him] down.” Slightly remorseful, he took accountability for making that decision based on that offer and followed up explaining how Jive refused to let him create in the ways he envisioned and wouldn’t tolerate anything other than that.

Papoose kindly opened up his world to us at Volume Studios divulging insight into the new music he’s made.  A father, businessman, husband and emcee, his new music is reflective of these aspects of his person as they simultaneously exist. He continues to rise to the occasion and challenge himself with lyrical exercises similar to “Alphabetical Slaughter”, hitting freestyles using the names of cereal or NBA teams. Papoose is quite serious about his title as an emcee but there is always room for play as well. These freestyles are wildly imaginative and unheard of by anyone else. For every month this year, he’s released a corresponding project and it’s this innovation that put him in position to become the person we saw that day sitting in front of us. It is also this innovation that generates the energy necessary to keep Hip Hop alive and well. Some of his final words before we wrapped up were to let us know that “platforms like this are very important because you’re not sitting up here doing the political shit.” We honor our mission in all that we do from our team down to our guests. Papoose is a student and a master of the art of Hip Hop. His contributions are present and felt by those who appreciate the skill and intention behind the work. Thank you Papoose for 20 Years of Bars.

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Byline: Ashley Raymond

We can point to a number of different aspects of Hip Hop and identify them as such, but there is an integral element maintaining the vitality of the music. Lyricism. It is the heart beating steadily in the body of hip hop to provide an opportunity for life to flourish across the various bounds of the genre. Soul, funk, and disco provided the structure with which to construct this amelioration of sound we call Hip Hop. Much like singing and scatting, rapping became the conduit for our emotional expression and sharing our oral history. Hip Hop not only reshaped the creation of music but it also reshaped the dynamics between instrumentation and vocal performance. Despite the ways in which Hip Hop evolves today, it is the wordplay, flow and delivery of our stories that sustain life within Hip Hop.

Initially, wordplay from our earliest Hip Hop classics were elementary. Messages were clear, the rhyme schemes were predictable, and the content focused heavily on social justice and economic unrest. There is beauty and power in simplicity. These bars were laid over loops of funk and disco basslines with straightforward drum patterns making it easy to follow along to the lyrics and move to the beats. 

Subgenres like boom bap and conscious rap emerged in New York. Artists like Slick Rick, Rakim, and MC Lyte crafted stories over a myriad of sounds, with influences ranging from funk to electronic, using expert wordplay and inventive rhyme schemes. Across the nation, pockets of Hip Hop emerged and molded more subgenres like G-Funk out West, chopped and screwed in the South and gangsta rap in Philly by the mid to late 80s and 90s. What we all know to be the “Golden Era” of Hip Hop truly set the standard for what it means to be a rapper, a lyricist. 

In 2006, Nas released Hip Hop is Dead, an album which provided his personal commentary on the climate of the industry at the time. Many new artists were breaking through the scene by unconventional means and the glaring difference of talent was in their rapping, or lack thereof. Nas’s seemingly audacious statement ignited debates and discourse but it was ultimately portrayed and received as generational differences or even envy. Presently in Hip Hop, the focus shifted again from lyrical ability to popularity. One could argue this is a part of its evolution, but at what cost? 

Similarly in ‘06, new artists now engulf themselves in their own hubris assuming that their “talent” is of greater value than the fundamentals. Here is where generational differences can be blinding and chalking it up to the evolution of the genre is reductive. A rapper’s pen was one of the few keys that could open the door to the industry. Popularity alone cuts a career extremely short because trends are volatile and tire out quickly. It’s clear that many new artists rely heavily on gimmicks, antics, and nepotism to carry their names into rooms with tastemakers, including those artists before them that they choose to insult. Veterans in the game achieve longevity because lyrical aptitude was their foundation and this created space to establish different styles, delivery, and flow. 

Along with skill, impeccable wordplay comes more easily for rappers that lived about what they wrote. Life experiences can naturally shape and mold talents that also reveal opportunities for success. One of the most iconic examples of this is the late DMX’s “Slippin’”, a chilling reflection about his mistakes and false starts. This song is remarkably cathartic and it is because of the truth and reality woven into the lyrics. I been through mad different phases like mazes / to find my way / And now I know that happy days / are not far away: this bar isn’t complicated but it is thoughtful and intentional. It conveys the specific message of how painful and obscure transformation can be: the dead ends, misdirections, and the paradox of fear and faith. Many new artists lack intention and lack identity so they’re “writing” from a place of emptiness, a place of smoke and mirrors that reveals their feigned talent once the smoke clears. 

Hip Hop is an artform and it experiences these mercurial shifts that affect the ways it’s created and consumed. In the shift that occurred over the past five years, we witnessed an influx of rappers who don’t want to be rappers—the“rockstars”. They respect the lifestyle and access granted to them by calling themselves a rapper but do not respect the art itself or the pioneers who preceded them. These kinds of artists falter when it’s time to freestyle because it’s not centered around gimmicks and popularity but instead based on the fundamentals of the art. Popularity doesn’t possess the same stamina as talent. On its own, popularity is unsustainable and is a performance that doesn’t come from life and the love of the genre. Fortunately, we see a resurgence of indie artists, labels, and groups advocating for lyricism through the work they produce and represent. From the likes of TDE and Griselda to Freddie Gibbs and the late Nipsey Hussle, the climate is slowly shifting back to focusing on bars. 

Last week’s Verzuz featuring The Lox and Dipset beautifully depicted the value and sustenance that lyricism provides. Those of you who assumed Dipset would wash The Lox because of their cultural influence forgot that an integral part of the culture is lyrical ability. It’s undeniable the chokehold that Dipset and Harlem in general had on Hip Hop but the primary reason was less about the wordplay and more about the lifestyle. The Lox didn’t carve out their place in Hip Hop by achieving super mainstream stardom, it was talent. Staying true to their lives and continually honing their craft kept them equipped to adjust to the ebb and flow of Hip Hop’s changes. They are one of the few groups who are standing the test of time and individually have impressive catalogs. 

The value of a sharp tongue is priceless. Knowing how to rap can either be an artist’s saving grace or their Achilles’ heel. Modern mainstream Hip Hop artists, and media alike, may attempt to undermine the necessity of lyrical skill but it is the lifeblood of this art form. Some new artists do the most to distance themselves from the term “rapper” and hide under the guise of not being pigeonholed into a sound. This is disingenuous and frankly, it’s to bypass the fact they are unable to rap. How have we allowed one of the major components in the art of Hip Hop become optional? 

It is not solely up to consumers to enforce quality control but it is a collaborative effort between consumers, media companies, record labels and musical organizations. Remember industry rule number 4080. Major labels set the trajectory for new artists often centered around profit and this initiates a cycle where the quality of music is secondary to the quantity and opportunities for profit. Artists that flow against the grain of their projected career set by these major labels often face repercussions like less press, less opportunity, and are eventually mismanaged then dropped. 

Here at Bars On I-95, we recognize the power and depth of the spoken word. Lyricism isn’t exclusively for entertainment. It is also the channel through which we exchange our versions of life, our pain, our joy, our anger, our sadness and our love for ourselves and our communities. It is a complete disservice to write off lyricism as an aspect of the past as it is the mastery of language that keeps the fire of Hip Hop blazing with glory.

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Byline: Ashley Raymond

The soundscape of hip hop exponentially evolves and what could be a hit today may not be the formula for a hit next year. With those changes comes loss and some of us may argue that lyricism fell out of function on this trajectory of growth. This is not limited to the music itself but also media platforms and record labels divesting more from talent and investing more in popularity and sensationalism. This shift creates an environment of smoke and mirrors leaving us with more monolithic sounds and appearances. There is little room for artists who may not check off the trendy or viral boxes. The field is tougher to navigate for artists not based in cultural hubs like LA, Miami, and New York but they do have the heart, vision, and talent.

If we play word association with hip hop, what comes to mind? New York, grit, gangstas, but the last thing we identify as hip hop is Connecticut. We’re often hidden under the label of “east coast” or muffled by questions like “are there even Black people in Connecticut?” The simple answer is yes and we love hip hop as well. Our size and geography may work against us, but these factors are simply the fuel that keeps the ember of talent burning with fervor. The conundrum many artists here face is playing the game of industry politics. Here we see, again, the assimilation needed to be a part of the pack. Our local radio stations and venues fall short in providing genuine opportunities to display their talent or to be that springboard to take their music to new heights, new eyes, and new ears. The politics of the hip hop industry seeps into all levels of experience: mainstream, underground, and independent leaving us with music diluted by overproduction and lack of imagination.

The looming question appears to be how do we allow hip hop to evolve and nurture talent simultaneously? Skills over politics. That’s the motto for CT’s premiere hip hop platform, Bars on I-95. The founders, AB and Cease, created Bars to be that home for rappers to demonstrate their artistry and to stay true to one of the most important pillars of hip hop: lyricism. Freestyling was the way to prove that an artist is truly an emcee. Cease and AB recognized the shifts in not only the music itself but the coverage of the artists and built an opportunity borne from the industry moving away from the fundamentals of hip hop.

For these young men, hip hop not only brought them together but scored pivotal moments throughout their lives. It is the soundtrack to their joy, pain, celebration, and introspection. Being former collegiate athletes, AB and Cease cultivated a network of influence that brought them into rooms and conversations about hip hop culture. This journey began with event coordination, throwing parties for the community, and creating spaces for people to celebrate with each other.

Understanding their position, the founders leveraged their influence to fulfill a need that CT and eventually the music industry hadn’t realized was unmet. Their close friends were artists themselves and AB made the seamless shift into management even though he lacked the experience. However, his background in finance coupled with their network created a buffer in that gap of his understanding. He made the time to study and learn from professionals through documentaries, books, and research. After his best friend got incarcerated, AB realized that it was time for yet another shift. The Bars on I-95 studio, initially called Studio I-95, was conceived by AB and Cease’s realization that they needed to invest in their vision more seriously. Being that CT isn’t known as a cultural hub for hip hop, this simultaneously put the founders at a disadvantage but still created an avenue for them to dominate. The two men rebuilt AB’s garage into their new studio and soon, it would become a place for artists to create and develop their music. Through more trial, error and analysis Cease and AB reworked their plan to bolster the culture. They realized the difficulty CT artists run into with gaining support from platforms within the state as well as commanding the attention of the industry beyond CT. Hot 93.7, the main hip hop station here, discontinued Jingle Jam, our version of Summer Jam and it opened the door for local and mainstream artists to perform and expand their network and influence. The goal was to have a place for those within the state and beyond to produce quality work and establish a connection with the culture in CT. With Studio I-95 up and running, AB and Cease knew it would become the conduit for enriching the hip hop community. Still, this wasn’t quite enough nor did it truly execute the vision they had in mind.

The two of them went back to the drawing board to refine their vision once more. They wanted to keep maximizing the potential of their studio space beyond recording music. Cease and AB went back and forth on concepts that could show artists on all levels that CT is a place where hip hop thrives and also still be that platform to prioritize talent. While Cease went to school full time in VA, AB remained diligent with their vision as he worked full time as well. This meant more studio renovations, late-night meetings, and Cease coming up from school until they landed on their final vision. After a couple setbacks, AB and Cease began building out the Bars on I-95 team. Networking across as Issa Rae said, they reached out to their respective networks and family to find those who are passionate about their craft and about their love for hip hop. Soon they had a videographer, graphic designer, and engineer who all share a deep love for hip hop and creating quality content to begin creating episodes. When the show premiered, there was still the obstacle of proximity to overcome. CT artists sometimes fall into the trap of ignoring the cultivation happening around them and instead look outward to attain more notoriety from more familiar platforms. It wasn’t until battle rapper Chess set the mic on fire during his freestyle that artists within CT and outside of the state began taking Bars on I-95 seriously as a hip hop platform. Cease and AB recognized they were on the precipice of (re)setting a standard in hip hop that talent matters and that consumers do care about an artist’s ability to actually rap. They stayed true to their vision and continued to adapt in minor and major ways. This created opportunities to travel to artists’ hometowns to generate dialogues focused on hip hop culture in these places and provide a stage to display their lyrical prowess.

Through personnel changes, (even more) studio renovations and increasing the standard of quality, Bars on I-95 blazed their own trail and opened up new opportunities for talent across the nation to have a home. Freestyling still acts as a litmus test for lyrical ability and with the industry directing more focus on popularity, Bars on I-95 is bringing it back to fundamentals. At the core of the team is the devotion to move with integrity on all fronts. This is the battery that keeps the show running paired with the love of hip hop and faith in the vision.

Three years later after their first episode, Bars on I-95 is taking root as that place to find the latest talent and to engage in or set the stage for creating authentic narratives and discussion for the betterment of hip hop.