Over the last 10 years, music transformed in just about every way possible to expand its embrace with new personalities. While other genres continue to explore new sonic depths, however, hip-hop remains somewhat static. Any underground or gangster rapper who finds success invariably becomes drawn toward the light of the mainstream market, leading to an industry lacking a clear motive more often than coming off genuinely inspired. Many rappers have looked to this trend as a fresh source of inspiration, but the best hip-hop artists of the decade tend to ignore the industry on their most successful work.In the case of my rapper of the decade, the industry can be used as an unspecified evil protagonist in relation to an elaborate pen-persona that disregards the line between fact and fiction.
If a lack of ingenuity and inspiration is the plague of hip-hop, then the savior of the game is MF Doom.
If there is any rapper, or any musical artist for that matter, who would never betray their style or sound, it is Doom. If there was ever any rapper you could rely on for album after album of intricate rhymes and arrangements, it is Doom. And if there was ever a hip-hop artist who stood against all things mainstream, it is Doom.
Born in London, he was raised in Long Island, N.Y. as a part of KMD. He performed locally until his brother, a fellow group member, was fatally hit by a car. Following this, KMD attempted to release a dark album with an even cruder cover, but the group floated apart as the album went unreleased because of its graphic nature.
Doom, depressed and dejected, fell into isolation and poverty for years. According to every online biography, he was ""recovering from his wounds"" and ""swearing revenge against the industry that so badly deformed him"" during this time. Sound like a comic book? Absolutely. He took on a new persona and adorned a mask—and to this day has yet to perform or be photographed without a stocking or mask covering his face—after finding inspiration in Marvel Comics' Dr. Doom.
At this point, Doom's underground recognition was growing and after a successful comeback release in 1999, he went instrumental. From 2001 to early 2006, he released 10 albums in his Special Blends series of instrumental productions under the name Metal Fingers. After crafting his trade behind the soundboards, he moved behind the mic and put a voice to his sound. With seven stellar albums from 2003-'06 under his belt (under the names of King Geedorah, Viktor Vaughn, Doom, Danger Doom, MF Doom and Madvillain), he made his mark on the industry.
Although individual pieces of work from this period stand out, an album with Madlib called Mudvillainy and the lighter, more conventional The Mouse and the Mask, it's Doom's consistency and ingenuity that leaves the strongest impression with listeners.
However, his flow can be consistent to a fault and his rhyme patterns are articulate and reliable if not boring with precision. He lyrically paints a dreary picture of the world that rejected him, with himself as the super-villain. The production follows suit; like grime being played through an old LP player, there are enough fuzzy layers to each eerie track to prevent over-thinking and encourage an organic feel. Best of all, the ""character"" he dons while performing is just who he is. He has the story and body of inspired work to back it up, and from this comes a distinctive angle and utterly unique sound that could only come from the perversely inspired.
In the world of rap, where the losers are the breadwinners and the winners are unknown absolutists who don't get paid, Doom is the super-villain. Underground rappers must hate to respect him. Mainstream rappers must be embarrassed to acknowledge him. His ominous sound is mechanical and indestructible across his entire body of work, and if you get a guest spot on one of his tracks, it's legitimizing and comforting, even though nobody will mention it.
The worst part of it is that if anybody deserves to be a star in the rap game, it should be the villain. It's the one who doesn't conform to other's standards. It's the one who disregards the sensible advice of others. And most of all, it's the one who is so blinded by determination and conviction in their style that they cannot function any other way.
True to his comic book roots, Doom walked away from a traumatic experience transformed into an unwavering force. Seeping his persona into every inflection of his music, he inches closer to rap game domination with every track. Although it's not what he seeks, it's what the public deserves. You know, just like Batman.
And if none of that interests you, don't forget the best part: his identity remains concealed from the public, which should be cool enough to persuade you anyway.
Send Justin your vote for the best rapper of the decade at jstephani@wisc.edu.
