Going on 50 years and with hip-hop's Americana status secured, it is long overdue for it to have its own shrine to celebrate its legends and innovators. 

Earlier this year, in May 2022, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inducted its tenth hip-hop artist into its hallowed ranks, who was, *drum roll* Eminem. I could probably write a whole piece alone on that one fact, but there is a much deeper and more critical issue than the self-described “Elvis of rap” being recognized by the altar of rock. In its 49th year of recognized existence, it’s a curious case that hip-hop, a bonafide musical tradition, and cultural phenomenon, doesn’t have its own hall to honor and enshrine its greatest acts and legends. There was a point in its history when hip-hop was not taken seriously or even considered anything more than a passing fad and ghetto trend that would fade into obscurity, never to really impact art and music, let alone the very consciousness of America itself to even deserve a Hall. Oh, how the majority was wrong. With representation at every and all levels of American society, both commercial, academic, and political, there shouldn’t even be a question that hip-hop artists, executives, pioneers, and all major contributors to the music industry and its history are deserving of its own process and shrine to present and preserve their accomplishments. 

For context, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame was founded in 1983 and found a permanent home in 1986, roughly 40 to 50 years after the recognized “birth” of the genre. The Country Music Hall of Fame was established in 1961, roughly 40 years after the recognized “birth” of that genre as well. It is interesting to note that these genres, which largely have whitewashed Black involvement out of their origin story, very quickly established places to enshrine important contributors, while two American forms of music that maintained their roots of Blackness have not. Simply by using these two genres of music, we have a baseline threshold of the amount of time that should pass for a music form to think about enshrining its history makers and innovators. Hip-Hop has clearly cemented and sustained a legacy of creative and artistic excellence that has existed long enough for it to be measured and recognized. 

Another interesting point to consider is how hip-hop artists are being considered to be recognized by the Rock & Roll Hall. The ten current members of their hall are Run DMC, N.W.A., Jay-Z, LL Cool J, Biggie Smalls, Tupac Shakur, Public Enemy, Beastie Boys and pioneers, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. On surface, save for maybe EM (and mostly for longevity, but even that is more my criterion than anyone else’s). On the surface, it’s hard to argue or see much wrong with any of these names being a part of the Hall call. It also has to be considered that an institution has the right to subjectively set its standards on who is Hall-worthy. But are rock’s standards hip-hop’s standards? After swimming in this debate, as there are many rock enthusiasts that chafe at the idea of hip-hop being recognized, the argument for its inclusion is that hip-hop has made significant contributions to rock. It’s also argued that the definition of “rock” is broader than what many consider its definition. These are admirable and credible reasons to broaden their Hall, but what about hip-hop artists whose traditions are rooted in other genres? The spirit, ethos, and philosophy behind hip-hop music are unique in and of themselves; the values that the music and the culture espouse could overlap but are uniquely their own. 

This is an issue that actually plagues not just this debate but the wider way in which many view hip-hop. Is it a culture? Is it a subculture? Is it just the latest iteration of other traditions? The truth and the proof is; hip-hop, while building on and having roots in the tradition of Black Music and the cultural African Diaspora, alone does have unique qualities, standards, and values that other institutions can recognize but not fully grasp or ingrain into their own. Not to mention, what are the optics of a now foundational part of cultural Americana having to “rent” space in someone else’s house? I would think any Hall that recognized the pioneers and legends of hip-hop would have to already have Herc, Bam, Roxanne Shante, Lyte, Latifah, Salt n Pepa, Nas, Ice Cube, Kool Moe Dee Grandmaster Caz, among a slew of others from every geographic region that would literally take up the entirety of this page. And yet, so far since 2007, we have this arbitrary ten (note, not a single woman, not even a Sylvia Robinson). 

There are encouraging signs, though. Archives at Cornell and Harvard for the past decade have affirmed and preserved much of the history and stories that exist for the culture. As well, the Hip-Hop exhibit at the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History & Culture is comprehensive and growing. Contrary to the early signs of the culture, institutions are beginning to take the culture and the music very seriously. The most promising, however, is the Universal Hip-Hop Museum which is on schedule and slated to open in the Bronx in the next several years. What makes this project even more powerful is that the stakeholders are some of the pioneers of the culture itself. The curators, archivists, and historians on the ground floor are a part of the culture. This is groundbreaking and significant, and the hope from me is that if not a part of that project, at least soon to follow afterward will be a shrine to properly celebrate, honor, and receive all of the past, present, and soon-to-be legends of hip-hop music.