RHYMES FOR ALL SEASONS
Chance the Rapper a unifying force
When Kanye West went looking for absolution, he didn’t seek out a priest — he turned to Chance the Rapper.
The 24-year-old, a native Chicagoan like the mercurial West, delivered not only the symbolic salutatorian address on West’s The Life of Pablo, his verse on album opener Ultralight Beam established the record’s main theme of faith and penance in the face of surrounding evil. Chance was the most pious element in a song that included a Christian music superstar, a gospel singer and a sample of a Satan-rebuking toddler.
Chance the Rapper, real name Chancelor Johnathan Bennett, wasn’t exactly plucked from obscurity (or Ottawa Bluesfest 2015, where a future song between the two was first teased) to deliver this sermon, but he is in a unique position as far as acts big enough to play the Bell Centre: he doesn’t yet have an album available in stores or a record deal.
The lack of both hasn’t halted his career momentum. When it comes to surviving in the 21st century music landscape, albums and labels are becoming increasingly ancillary. Without taking the usual steps toward chart dominance, Chance the Rapper has managed to become a unifying force not only in his chosen profession but also as an outspoken public figure. He was also singled out by Barack Obama as one of his favourite rappers.
Although a solid self-marketer in the social media age, he hasn’t really caught fame by Internet meme wildfire either, like contemporaries Rae Sremmurd and Migos. Most of his success so far can simply be attributed to the universal appeal of his music — he’s just that talented a rapper and performer. He’s the rapper even your non-rap friends can agree upon.
His music reflects his devout Christianity and young fatherhood — two subjects that don’t necessarily scream mainstream success. He references his most telling track, Sunday Candy, on the aforementioned West collaboration: “I made Sunday Candy so I’m never going to hell.” The joyous gospel-rap hybrid, accompanied by a video that shows off the triple threat’s unheralded dancing skills, wraps praise for his hardworking grandmother with his weekly trips to church. It’s the perfect entry point into Chance’s world view: positive but fully aware of the world’s ills.
So far, his output has come in the form of free mixtapes. His most recent, 2016’s guest-laden Coloring Book, can be heard on streaming services. Surf, his upbeat 2015 collaboration with horn player pal Donnie Trumpet and the Social Experiment (he’s considered one of the latter), was a rare freebie on iTunes upon release, garnering 618,000 downloads in one week. Artistically, saying they’re not albums is mostly splitting hairs. In reality, you couldn’t pay for a Chance the Rapper album even if you wanted to.
Coloring Book’s murky nonalbum status didn’t stop it from reaching No. 8 on the Billboard 200 charts, exclusively from 57.3 million streams, or earning a Grammy Award for best rap album in 2017, the first stream-only release to win the prize. Prior to last year, it wasn’t even possible for free releases to be eligible for
a Grammy, but the rules were altered shortly after Coloring Book’s release. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think the change was made to accommodate the rap superstar.
The son of an assistant to former Chicago mayor Harold Washington also hasn’t been afraid to use his profile to raise awareness for issues facing his hometown: underfunded public schools and gun violence. For some, he first gained national exposure by leading hundreds (or thousands, depending on which report you read) of mostly Chicago youths to an early voting polling station following a Parade to the Polls concert on the eve of the American election.
Last March, Chance had a highly publicized closed-door meeting with Illinois Governor Bruce Rauner about the city’s public school system. Chance didn’t treat the get-together as a mere photo op — afterwards he was vocal in his disappointment with the governor’s vagueness and pledged to donate $1 million to Chicago Public Schools to make up for budget cuts.
While it’s easy to look at all Chance has done so far and proclaim him rap’s current “it boy,” it’s unfair to single out one rapper as being the genre’s torchbearer. There’s simply so much happening in rap right now, from L.A.’s resurgent street poets to Atlanta’s otherworldly club music. The biggest Broadway hit in years is Hamilton, a rap musical. Black Lives Matter protests have used a rap song, Kendrick Lamar’s Alright, as a de facto anthem. Rap’s most consistent hitmaker, Drake, is from Toronto. Teenagers from unexpected places, like Indonesia and Sweden, are becoming overnight sensations, and it’s a Francebased rapper, MHD, who’s set to headline two FrancoFolies shows at Metropolis in June. To pin all of rap’s incredibly diverse ecosystem on one person fails to understand just how far rap’s tentacles have spread over the years.
But beyond hip hop, there are only a handful of artists in each generation capable of transcending their chosen profession. At 24, Chance the Rapper is already one of those few, and his star is only rising.
Although a solid self-marketer in the social media age, he hasn’t really caught fame by Internet meme wildfire either, like ... Rae Sremmurd and Migos.