On August 11, 1973, Cindy Campbell threw a back-to-school party at 1520 Sedgwick Avenue in the Bronx. Her brother Clive, better known as DJ Kool Herc, was enlisted to DJ, and he used the occasion to try out a new technique behind the decks. Quickly flipping between two copies of the same record in sync with the beat of the song, he elongated a funky instrumental section until it became a new piece of music unto itself. A friend who went by Coke La Rock took a microphone and began calling out the names of people at the party, eventually embellishing the shoutouts with simple rhymes. It was the beginning of what we now know as hip-hop.
The genre has branched in many different directions over the last five decades, picking up plenty of new regional flair and musical innovation as it spread across the U.S. and eventually the planet. To celebrate its legacy, we spoke with 17 great artists from inside and outside of hip-hop about their all-time favorite rap songs. Some chose golden-age classics, others more contemporary hits; some gravitated toward personal memory or historical influence, others just wanted to talk about a particularly dope beat or mind-expanding verse. No matter the rationale, these songs changed lives, offering companionship, inspiration, and new ways to understand the world. –Andy Cush
Maxwell
I was in middle school when Kane dropped “Half Steppin’.” He was the quintessential guy at that time in the late ’80s: He had three cuts in his eyebrow and the three-piece suit; he’s got cash on deck, he’s got his ladies. But it wasn’t really a pimp vibe. He was just a well-dressed dude, you know? That did a lot for people in my community.
He changed how people did things. As much as hip-hop is about the actual songs, it’s also a lifestyle, and there was something so magnetic about him. People put cuts in their eyebrows to be like him—years later, Jay-Z had that line, “three cuts in the eyebrow, tryna wild out.” When you can get Jay to say that, so many years later? That’s how far-reaching Kane’s impact was.
And dude was in the Sex book with Naomi Campbell and Madonna! He got a little flak for it at the time, but come on man, that’s legendary. He had a Casanova energy going on, but dude had serious respect. He was this ray of light: Who is this Black man killing it right now?
Amaarae
I was 15, and my parents were in the midst of their second divorce. It was a really tough time for me, and every time I would hear this song, it captured an emotion within me that I didn’t know how to express. Kanye is almost not rapping—it’s freeform, and he’s waxing poetic, going from very honest bars to comedic bars to breaking into song.
The Smokey Robinson sample feels like the core of the record. The drums are minimal, and they have hella reverb, and they’re tucked away in the back. It’s on some outer-space shit, the way the record builds. And it has a rock ’n’ roll edge, with a guitar solo by Mike Dean that creates this tension.
The last verse by Rick Ross represents so many different things to me: struggle and opulence. He is raw, emotional. He gives a nod to some of the music he likes and the things that he’s been through. It all comes back to all that we’ve been through, this life that we’re living.