In a time when so much of today’s music is filled with toxicity, negativity, and disposable content, Loyalty Is Timeless feels like a breath of fresh air. A reminder that Hip-Hop can still have substance, soul, maturity, and something meaningful to say.

My dude Anthony Logan sent me a link. I have to admit I was a few years late to this party, but I’m here now. After looking up their YouTube channel and listening to everything posted, I knew I had to share them with everyone out there starving for some real music. Too often listen to new music, I feel so uninspired, but when I heard Loyalty Is Timeless, this felt different.

I watched the video titled “Loyalty Is Timeless-Live at the Barn” over and over several times, just soaking up the vibes. I knew I had to write something about them! I don’t want to do what many do: overhype a group, so I’ll simply say you have to experience them for yourself; check out the video below.

The 11-minute 32-second video is a live performance where they spit some soulful rhymes to a live band consisting of pianist Dedarius Q Hill, Michael John Morgan on Bass Guitar, Grayson Lockhart on Trombone, Alex Banks on Saxophone, and Brian A. Brownlee on the Trumpet.

A soulful performance live at the barn, rocking tracks like “Start Off My Day Like,” “My Brother,” “You Are Appreciated,” and “Can't Break Me.”

Loyalty Is Timeless is a soulful Hip-Hop group consisting of two blood brothers, Reginald “Controversy: Dowdell and Darius “Big D” Dowdell, who grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, and now reside and make music in the ATL.

Their sound blends soulful storytelling with feel-good beats. The southern duo reminded me of a few groups I have on heavy rotation, like OutKast with their soulful hooks and sharp lyricism, and Goodie Mob with lyrics focused on deep, meaningful messages riding over a use of heavy gospel and soul influences.

The brothers use samples that sound like the 1990’s and balance grown-up topics with great rhythms like NC-based Hip-Hop group Little Brother. You can also hear a touch of influence from Pete Rock & CL Smooth, the kings of soulful, jazzy Hip-Hop, and the smooth lyricism focused on the timeless truth and street loyalty of Gangstarr.

If you are just hearing about Loyalty Is Timeless, make sure you cop their debut album, “Loyalty & Passion,” that dropped in 2021. The track “Start Of My Day Like” recently went viral, leading many new fans like me to discover their older music.

They just released a new album, “The Message,” that dropped July 8, 2026, available on physical vinyl records as well as digital downloads and all streaming formats. The ten-track album is a soulful mix of nostalgic Hip-Hop, powerful choirs, timeless samples, and storytelling focused on faith, perseverance, personal accountability, and healing.

“Only GOD Can Judge Me” sets the album off with a reflective tone right out the gate. “Can’t Break Me” and “Survival” lean into inner strength and overcoming hardship. “On Mama” (feat. Ace2Fly & Jurnee) and “My Brother” combine deep emotional resonance and family values with heartfelt storytelling.

“The Message” is a refreshing and uplifting listen for anyone hungry for Hip-Hop with something real to say. Unlike much of the flash and surface-level noise, it delivers genuine emotion, substance, and strong musicianship!

If you like what you hear, thank my brother Logan for putting me on to them and sharing their music with me, because once I heard it, I knew I had to introduce them to all of you who may have never heard of them before. Because good music deserves to be shared, especially when much of today’s music leaves many people out here searching for something real.

For more on Loyalty Is Timeless, visit their website and follow them on Facebook, IG, TikTok, and YouTube.

There are a lot of stories in Hip-Hop history that everybody knows. The Bronx, which is celebrated as the Birthplace; Harlem, Queens, and Brooklyn. The legendary battles. The parties in the park. The legendary clubs. The records and artists who changed the culture forever.

But there are also many stories that just never really received the same attention. The story of the Legends of Long Island Hip-Hop is definitely one of them. Filmmaker Archie Snowden, aka MC Amazin’ A, was determined to do something about that.

His new documentary, The Long Island Underground Legends of Hip-Hop, will screen at the 11th Annual Hip Hop Film Festival in Westchester County on Sunday, August 23, 2026, at 2:30 p.m. at LOOK Dine-In Cinemas, 1 Hamilton Street in Dobbs Ferry, New York. The Hip Hop Film Festival, presented by Harlem Film House, runs from August 19 through August 23, 2026.

Snowden, who is an award-winning TV News Journalist, video producer and director, multimedia reporter, filmmaker, longtime member of the culture, and a really dope emcee who inspired me, recently sat down with me to talk about the documentary, why he felt compelled to make it, and why so many of the people who helped build Hip-Hop on Long Island deserve to have their stories told finally.

That’s really what this film is about: giving flowers, correcting the record, and making sure the untold story finally gets told.

(see the interview in video below in its entirety)

Hip-Hop Didn’t Stop at the Five Boroughs

When most people tell the story of Hip-Hop’s yesteryears, the narrative usually stays within the five boroughs of New York City, especially celebrating the Bronx as Hip-Hop’s Garden of Eden. But anybody who was there knows the culture didn’t stop when you crossed the city borders.

Out on Long Island, there were teenagers, DJs, MCs, dancers, promoters, and crews listening, learning, building, battling, throwing parties, and creating their own contribution to what has come to be known as Hip-Hop. The Long Island Underground Legends of Hip-Hop explores those early suburban roots.

And one of the things I find particularly interesting about the documentary is the contrast between the usual narrative of where Hip-Hop came from and what was happening just miles away.

Early Hip-Hop is usually associated with concrete, apartment buildings and public housing, parks, subways, streetlights and inner-city life. But on Long Island, the backdrop includes lawns, houses, suburban streets and grass instead of concrete beneath our feet. But don’t get it twisted. Hip-Hop was on Strong Island too. The surroundings may be a little different, but that hunger to create was the same.

Strong Island Wasn’t Just a Name

Among the artists featured in the documentary are B-Luv and yours truly, AJ ROK of JVC FORCE, the Long Island group that gave you the Hip-Hop anthem “Strong Island.” That record was bigger than just another song. “Strong Island” helped give an entire region an identity. Before long, saying Strong Island became synonymous with Long Island Hip-Hop. But JVC FORCE was far from alone.

Long Island produced and influenced a plethora of Emcees, DJs, producers, and record executives, like Bill Stephney, the first president of Def Jam Recordings and founder of Stepsun Music Entertainment, who was heavily influential in East Coast Hip-Hop, and other groups who made major contributions to Hip-Hop, even if the island’s role in the culture hasn’t always received the historical attention it deserves.

You know the names like Public Enemy, Rakim, Biz Markie, JVC FORCE, EPMD. K-Solo, De La Soul, Leaders of the New School, Son of Berzerk, Freddie Foxx, aka Bumby Knuckles, Keith Murray, R.A. the Rugged Man, Sugar Bear, Groove B Chill, Roc Marciano, MF DOOM & KMD, Too Poetic aka Gyrm Reaper of the Gravediggaz, and many other rap artists that hailed from Strong Island.

Even emcees like Method Man and Prodigy. Though heavily associated with Staten Island (Wu-Tang) and Queens (Mobb Deep) respectively, both Hip-Hop wordsmiths have roots tied to Hempstead, Long Island. LL Cool J was born in Bayshore, Long Island; DMC was born in Wyandanch, and they both later moved to Queens.

But this documentary is about the legends of underground Long Island Hip-Hop who inspired many of them. Names you may have never heard of, like Nelson PR, The Mechanic, DJ Pearl, and Spectrum RYC, who are the forefathers of Long Island Hip-Hop. They were doing their thing and setting up in the parks and block parties on Long Island, at the same time Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, Grand Master Flash, and others were in the Bronx.

That’s one of the issues Snowden tackles head-on. Who gets included when the history books are written? Who gets called a pioneer? Who gets remembered? And who gets left sitting outside the conversation even though they were there putting in work? Those are important questions.

Snowden understands that if we don’t document our own history, somebody else will eventually tell it for us, and they might leave some very important names, neighborhoods, and movements out.

The People Who Built It Tell the Story

What makes The Long Island Underground Legends of Hip-Hop particularly important is that this isn’t somebody standing on the outside looking in and trying to explain what happened. The documentary allows the people who lived it to tell it. As a historian myself, that’s what makes this documentary different and equally important to me.

As Hip-Hop gets older, we’re losing pioneers. We’re losing firsthand witnesses. We’re losing people who remember what happened before the record deals, before the videos, before social media, and before anybody imagined Hip-Hop would take over the world.

A personal highlight for me was that Snowden was able to interview Gene ‘Groove’ Allen, who was a rapper and actor best known as a co-founder of the Hip-Hop trio Groove B. Chill that also included Daryl "Chill" Mitchell and Belal "DJ Belal" Miller, and for his unforgettable appearance in the classic Hip-Hop comedy film House Party. He passed away at his Maryland home on February 12, 2025, at the age of 62.

Snowden also interviewed Biz Markie, who was associated with the legendary Juice Crew collective. He died in July 2021, at the age of 57. His legacy has been honored through various tributes, including street dedications, public memorials, and the documentary film All Up in the Biz, and now in this Long Island Hip-Hop doc.

Not only does every time one of those voices disappears without being documented, a piece of our history also disappears with them. But seeing both of these brothers in the documentary meant so much more because I was blessed to call both of them friends.

I'm glad both of them were interviewed prior to leaving us. That’s why projects like this matter. Why we’re not just talking about nostalgia; we’re talking about preservation, and Snowden overstood the assignment.

We’re talking about making sure the generations coming behind us understand there was a whole ecosystem of Hip-Hop happening on Long Island. Artists, DJs, crews, parties, battles, and neighborhoods contributing to the growth of the culture.

From Strong Island to Westchester

Now that story of Long Island Hip-Hop is crossing the bridge and coming to Westchester County. And for a Hip-Hop head like me, that makes this screening especially personal.

I was born in Mount Vernon. Moved to Central Islip, Long Island at the age of seven and came back to Mount Vernon for high school when my parents divorced. I ended up moving back and forth a few times after I got out of school and came into the game professionally, living on Long Island and went on to record the anthem, “Strong Island,’ with my partner-in-rhyme B Luv. Both places helped shape me. Both contributed to the artist and writer I became, and ultimately the man I grew up to be.

So to see The Long Island Underground Legends of Hip-Hop, a documentary that includes me and my group, JVC FORCE, screening here in Westchester means a little more. In a lot of ways, it feels like two parts of my own story meeting in the same place.

Strong Island helped shape my Hip-Hop identity. Going to high school in Mount Vernon and living on the border of the Bronx helped shape my voice. And now a film documenting that Long Island history is coming to the county where so much of my own journey began, and I will have the pleasure of speaking on the panel discussion immediately following the screening. That makes this one special.

In my conversation with Archie Snowden, we talked about the making of the film, the Long Island artists who inspired it, and what he hopes audiences will take away after watching it.

For real Hip-Hop heads and music lovers, especially those who care about the history beneath the headlines, I strongly recommend you check it out. Because Hip-Hop’s history is way bigger than the names everybody already knows. It’s made up of thousands of people who grabbed microphones, carried crates, plugged in turntables, promoted parties, made beats, passed out flyers, battled other crews, and helped spread a culture before anybody knew where all of this was going.

Some became household names, others became underground legends. Some really dope emcees from Long Island like Amazin A never got the opportunity to make a record. But their contributions still count. And their stories deserve to be told.

And That’s Real Talk!

Screening Details

Sunday, August 23, 2026
2:30 PM

LOOK Dine-In Cinemas
1 Hamilton Street, Dobbs Ferry, NY 10522

The Long Island Underground Legends of Hip-Hop
Directed by Archie Snowden — MC Amazin’ A

Part of the 11th Annual Hip Hop Film Festival, presented by Harlem Film House, August 19–23, 2026.

For additional information and tickets, visit Harlem Film House / Hip Hop Film Festival. https://www.harlemfilmhouse.org/hhff2026

— AJ “AJ ROK” Woodson
Real Talk From AJ Woodson

..

A lot of people either forget, never knew, or simply don’t give Black Thought the props he deserves as a lyricist.

Every time I see one of those “Top 10,” “Top 20,” or “Top 50 MCs of All Time” lists, his name is either missing completely or sitting way too low.

And if you only know Black Thought as the frontman for The Roots on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, then you really need to understand who this brother is with a microphone in his hand.

On December 14, 2017, Black Thought walked into HOT 97 with Funkmaster Flex and reminded the entire Hip-Hop world exactly what time it was.

For nearly 10 straight minutes, Thought went to work over the instrumental to Mobb Deep’s “The Learning (Burn),” delivering more than 2,000 words of relentless lyricism without losing his breath, his rhythm, or his momentum.

And this wasn’t just rhyming words together.

Black Thought was weaving together history, politics, literature, street knowledge, social commentary, metaphors, internal rhyme schemes, punchlines, and cultural references at a level most MCs simply cannot operate on.

He reached from Shakespeare, Franz Kafka, and W.B. Yeats all the way to contemporary culture, including that memorable reference to “pre-Kardashian Kanye.”

The video reportedly pulled in more than a million views within its first 24 hours and has since been widely regarded as one of the greatest radio freestyles in Hip-Hop history.

Yet somehow, when the GOAT conversations start, Black Thought still doesn’t always get the respect his résumé, consistency, and lyrical ability demand.

That’s exactly why we had to reshare this one.

Because every once in a while, Hip-Hop needs a reminder.

Black Thought didn’t freestyle on Funk Flex that day.

He committed first-degree homicide on another microphone, and let off a lyrical warning shot to the entire culture, reminding anybody who forgot that Black Thought was still one of the most dangerous MCs breathing. For nearly ten minutes, he turned the booth into a crime scene—no hook, no gimmicks, no wasted bars—just razor-sharp wordplay, breath control, knowledge, and lyrical ammunition. By the time he was finished, the message was clear:

Put some respect on Black Thought’s name.

That wasn’t just a freestyle. That was a lyrical hit carried out in broad daylight—and the microphone was the only casualty.

No hook.
No gimmicks.
No shortcuts.

Just bars. For almost ten minutes straight.

If you’ve never seen the entire freestyle, do yourself a favor and watch it. And if you’ve already seen it, watch it again.

Some performances don’t get old.

They become evidence.

Follow 🎤 AJ ROK Presents: ROK The Mic on Instagram for more Live Hip-Hop. Legendary Moments. The Culture Through My Lens.

#ROKTheMic #AJROK #BlackThought #TheRoots #FunkmasterFlex #HOT97 #Freestyle #MobbDeep #TheLearning #Lyricism #Bars #RealMCs #HipHopHistory #HipHopCulture #GoldenEraSpirit #GOATMC #Rhymeslayer #LiveHipHop

Over the last few years, I’ve found myself covering more and more live events, concerts, park jams, anniversary celebrations, and Hip-Hop performances—and whenever possible, I’ve had my camera rolling.

I’ve shared a lot of those videos across my various social media pages, but after a while I realized something: I needed one place where I could put all of this together for Hip-Hop heads who love the culture the way I do.

So I created a new Instagram page:

🎤 AJ ROK Presents: ROK The Mic
👉 @rok_the_mic

Most recently, I was in Crotona Park in the Bronx for Doug E. Fresh & Funk Flex’s 2nd Annual Hip-Hop Appreciation Park Jam, where I recorded performances from some of the architects of this thing we call Hip-Hop, including The Cold Crush Brothers, Soulsonic Force, the legendary DJ Hollywood, and T-Ski Valley.

But that’s just the latest chapter.

Over the years, I’ve captured DMX and Nice & Smooth performing at the 2019 Cityfest in Mount Vernon.

I recorded KRS-One and Busta Rhymes during the New York State Black, Puerto Rican, Hispanic & Asian Legislative Caucus Weekend in Albany in February 2023. KRS-One delivered a major address introducing his “Hiphoppia” concept and received a legislative proclamation, while Busta Rhymes later tore down the stage as the headliner of the weekend’s annual after-party.

Then there was the 50th Anniversary of Hip-Hop Celebration at Lincoln Park in New Rochelle on Saturday, September 16, 2023.

Hosted by 2 Cool, PJ Splash, and Cuzin Corn, the celebration featured DJs Pro C, Scram Jones, Jazzy Joyce, and a special DJ set by DJ Supreme, along with a long list of live performances.

I was there capturing performances from Mr. Cheeks of The Lost Boyz, Smif-N-Wessun, Stunna Gang, Pretty Hoops, Capella Grey, The Rough House Surviverz, CL Smooth, and more.

I’ve also captured moments like Large Professor performing “Looking at the Front Door” for INI’s 30th anniversary at Jolo’s Kitchen in New Rochelle, and of course I will be sharing several JVC FORCE performances, and plenty of other dope Hip-Hop moments along the way.

I will be combing through old hard drives for older video footage and adding them from time to time.

And ROK The Mic won’t only be limited to footage I personally shoot.

From time to time, when I come across a video somebody else captured that I think Hip-Hop heads need to see, I’ll share that too—like Wu-Tang Clan performing at halftime at Madison Square Garden during Game 4 of the 2026 NBA Finals or a great freestyle like Jadakiss freestyling over the “Who Shot Ya” beat in the Verzuz against Dipset.

Clips I think should be shared and celebrated.

For me, this is about more than posting clips.

It’s about documenting the culture.

It’s about preserving performances from the pioneers, celebrating the legends who are still out here rocking microphones, shining a light on artists carrying the culture forward, and giving Hip-Hop heads one place where they can pull up and enjoy some dope live Hip-Hop.

As an MC myself, a Hip-Hop historian, journalist, and someone who has been part of this culture for most of my life, I’m blessed to find myself in many rooms, parks, stages, concerts, and events where Hip-Hop history is still being made.

When I’m there, and the camera is rolling, ROK The Mic will bring you along with me.

So click the link, follow @rok_the_mic, check out the videos, hit that like button, and leave a comment or two.

And if you’re a real Hip-Hop head, tell another Hip-Hop head.

🎤 AJ ROK PRESENTS: ROK THE MIC
Live Hip-Hop. Legendary Moments. The Culture Through My Lens.

👉 https://www.instagram.com/rok_the_mic/

August is National Black Business Month, an annual observance established in 2004 by historian John William Templeton and engineer Frederick E. Jordan. It is a time to celebrate Black entrepreneurs and recognize their contributions to the American economy—but it must also be a time to confront the barriers that continue to prevent too many Black-owned businesses from surviving, expanding and becoming lasting community institutions.

Let me say this plainly: Black Business Month has to be about more than posting a “Buy Black” graphic on social media.

It must challenge us to examine where we spend our money, who benefits from that spending and whether our dollars are helping build the communities we say we care about.

Creating, supporting and sustaining Black-owned businesses creates jobs, strengthens neighborhoods, expands opportunity and helps transform individual ideas into institutions that can serve generations. Supporting Black businesses is not charity. It is an investment in economic independence, community stability and Black wealth.

Black Businesses Are Growing—but the Barriers Remain

Black entrepreneurs have always created businesses despite discriminatory lending, redlining, exclusion from established marketplaces and limited access to investment capital. They opened stores, restaurants, barbershops, beauty salons, professional practices and community institutions when many traditional doors were deliberately closed to them.

Those barriers did not simply disappear.

In 2024, the Alliance for Entrepreneurial Equity—a partnership between the National Urban League and Third Way—released The State of Black Business, examining the economic landscape confronting Black entrepreneurs across the country.

The report found that Black businesses are growing, but they remain woefully underrepresented. Black-owned employer businesses grew by approximately 30 percent between 2018 and 2021, yet they still represented only about 2.5 percent of all employer businesses in the United States.

Most Black-owned companies remain small, many employing fewer than five people. That is not because Black entrepreneurs lack ambition, talent, innovation or work ethic. Too many are attempting to grow within an economic system where access to capital, contracts, customers, resources and influential professional networks remains unequal.

National Urban League President and CEO Marc H. Morial stated that business ownership directly leads to economic empowerment and wealth creation, but systemic barriers continue to make success more difficult for Black entrepreneurs.

Access to financing remains one of the clearest examples.

Only 32 percent of Black-owned businesses seeking financing reportedly received the full amount requested, compared with 56 percent of white-owned businesses. Meanwhile, 40 percent of Black-owned businesses were completely denied loans, credit lines or cash advances, compared with 18 percent of white-owned businesses. Black founders also received only 0.5 percent of venture-capital funding in 2023.

Those disparities have consequences. They lead to fewer businesses being launched, limited opportunities to expand, smaller workforces and higher rates of closure.

So yes, we must celebrate Black entrepreneurship. But we must also understand that celebration without investment, access and consistent support will not close the gap.

The Power of the Black Dollar

Black Americans command approximately $2.1 trillion in annual buying power. That makes Black consumers one of the most influential forces in the American marketplace.

But buying power should never be confused with wealth.

The real question is not simply how much money Black America spends. The real question is: Where does that money go, who benefits from it and how many times does it circulate within our communities before leaving?

Every dollar we spend is an economic vote. We are voting for the businesses, institutions and communities we want to see survive.

Imagine the impact if more of that $2.1 trillion were intentionally deposited in Black-owned banks, spent with Black-owned businesses, invested in Black entrepreneurs, used to hire Black professionals and circulated several times within our neighborhoods before leaving.

When we buy Black, bank Black, advertise with Black media, hire Black professionals and invest in Black entrepreneurs, we help create jobs, strengthen families, finance community institutions and build generational wealth.

Our dollars should not merely pass through our hands on their way to making everyone else wealthy. They should work for us before they work for everybody else.

Real Support Requires More Than Likes

The most direct way to support a Black-owned business is to become a paying customer.

Likes, compliments and promises of future support do not pay the rent, purchase inventory, cover payroll or keep the lights on. Revenue does.

Before making a purchase, take the time to look for a Black-owned option. That may include restaurants, caterers, bookstores, clothing designers, barbershops, beauty salons, contractors, accountants, attorneys, photographers, printers, consultants and other professional service providers.

And do not stop after one purchase. Become a repeat customer. Purchase gift cards. Use Black-owned vendors for family celebrations, organizational events and workplace functions. Encourage churches, nonprofits, political campaigns, government agencies and corporations to add qualified Black-owned companies to their procurement lists.

We have to move beyond asking, “Do I know a Black-owned business?”

The better question is: “Did I look for one before I spent my money?”

Social media also gives each of us the power to become a small marketing department. Do more than press “like.” Repost the product. Share the menu. Tag the business. Post a picture of what you purchased. Include the website, location and ordering information.

One repost can lead to a new customer, a catering contract, a corporate partnership or an opportunity that business owner may not otherwise have received.

Then there is the oldest and still one of the most effective forms of promotion: word of mouth.

Tell people about the restaurant that served an excellent meal. Recommend the contractor who performed quality work. Share the name of the attorney, accountant, designer or consultant who provided professional service. Bring someone with you the next time you visit.

Do not keep a good Black-owned business a secret. When you discover excellence, spread the word.

Positive online reviews also matter. A detailed Google, Yelp or Facebook review can strengthen a company’s reputation, improve its visibility and help it compete with larger businesses that have significantly greater advertising budgets.

When a problem does arise, give the owner a reasonable opportunity to address it before attempting to destroy the business online. Accountability is necessary, but so are fairness, communication and the opportunity to correct an honest mistake.

Black businesses should be held to professional standards, but they should also receive the same grace many consumers routinely extend to major corporations.

Stop Asking for “The Hookup”

Let me say this plainly: if someone you call a friend owns a Black business and you have never purchased anything, shared a post, referred a customer or supported that business in any meaningful way, you may need to reconsider what friendship really means. Support is more than applause, likes and encouraging words. Real friends show up—and when possible, they spend, promote, recommend and help one another grow.

Supporting Black businesses also means respecting their prices and paying them on time.

Black entrepreneurs have rent, payroll, insurance, taxes, utilities, inventory and operating expenses just like every other business owner. Constantly asking for discounts, free products or “the hookup” does not demonstrate support.

Do not expect Black friends, relatives or community members to work for exposure while paying everyone else without question.

Exposure does not pay bills.

We cannot claim to support Black businesses while attempting to negotiate them out of profitability.

Support Must Continue After August

Black Business Month may increase awareness, but Black-owned businesses need customers in September, December, March and every other month of the year.

Sustainable businesses are built through consistent patronage—not seasonal attention.

Create a personal directory of Black-owned businesses. Include them in your holiday shopping, celebrations, professional needs and everyday spending. Recommend them for grants, contracts, vendor fairs and certification opportunities. Introduce entrepreneurs to decision-makers who may be able to open doors.

A recommendation that leads to a long-term contract may have a much greater impact than a single purchase.

Supporting Black-owned businesses is not about excluding everyone else. It is about confronting a long-standing economic imbalance and ensuring Black entrepreneurs have a fair opportunity to participate in—and benefit from—the economy.

When we purchase, promote, recommend, review, invest and connect, we are doing more than supporting an individual business owner. We are helping create jobs, stabilize neighborhoods, strengthen Black institutions and build the foundation for generational wealth.

The message of Black Business Month is simple:

We cannot demand strong Black communities while refusing to build and sustain strong Black businesses.

Now it is your turn. In the comment section, share your favorite Black-owned business—the one you believe everyone needs to know about, support and help grow. Your recommendation could introduce that business to its next customer, client, contract or opportunity.

For more than three decades, Soul Train took America on a rhythmic ride that differed from anything that had ever been seen on television. It celebrated Black music, Black fashion, Black dance, Black beauty and, most importantly, Black people being unapologetically Black!

Before music videos became a daily part of our lives, before BET, MTV or social media gave artists another way to reach the masses, there was Soul Train. Every Saturday, the show gave us the sound, style and soul of Black America right in living rooms.

But don’t get it twisted, Soul Train was never simply just another dance show.

It was a cultural institution. It was a launching pad for artists, dancers and trends. It was a place where Black America could see itself represented with dignity, creativity, elegance and uninhibited joy at a time when mainstream television too often ignored us, stereotyped us or acted as if our culture did not exist.

I remember those Saturday mornings like they were yesterday. My mother would blast WBLS through the house, waking us up to do our chores. We would eat breakfast, finish what we had to do, then gather in the living room to watch Soul Train. After that, I would settle in for the Saturday afternoon Kung Fu movies in my room or at a friend’s house. It happened like clockwork—WBLS, chores, breakfast, Soul Train and Kung Fu.

But Soul Train was more than something we watched. It was part of the rhythm of our household and the soundtrack of my childhood. Every Saturday, Don Cornelius invited us aboard “The Hippest Trip in America,” where we saw artists who looked like us, dancers who moved like people in our neighborhoods and fashion that would have everybody talking for the rest of the week.

The Vision of Don Cornelius

At the center of it all was the show’s creator and original host, Don Cornelius.

A Korean War veteran, former Chicago police officer, radio personality and broadcaster, Cornelius recognized something that should have been obvious but was largely ignored by the television industry: there was virtually no programming created specifically for Black youth.

Cornelius had also been exposed to Chicago’s civil rights movement and organizing efforts connected to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. That background helped shape his understanding of representation, ownership, and the importance of Black people controlling how our stories and culture were presented.

While working at a small television station in Chicago, Cornelius envisioned a program that would combine live musical performances with the energy and freedom of a neighborhood house party. He initially described the concept as a Black version of American Bandstand, reportedly pitching it to Chicago station WCIU as an “American Bandstand of color.”

But what he ultimately created became something much greater.

Station executives were reportedly skeptical. They did not believe the program would become a major success and allowed Cornelius to take ownership of it, almost as if they were washing their hands of something they expected to fail.

Think about that for a moment.

What those executives viewed as a throwaway television experiment became one of the most significant cultural programs in American history—and helped make Don Cornelius one of the first Black men to create, own, and produce a nationally syndicated television show.

The local Chicago version of Soul Train debuted in 1970, with early guests including Jerry Butler. Young people packed into a cramped studio and transformed that limited space into a celebration of Black music, movement, fashion and style. The nationally syndicated version followed in 1971.

From those humble beginnings grew “The Hippest Trip in America.”

Love, Peace and Soul

With his commanding presence, unmistakable charisma and deep, smooth voice, Don Cornelius became the perfect conductor for the journey.

His stylish suits, oversized ties, signature spectacles and iconic sign-off—“Love, Peace and Soul”—became inseparable from the identity of the show. He did not appear on television as though he was asking mainstream America for permission to be there. He carried himself like a Black man who knew he belonged—and who understood the importance of the platform he had created.

Soul Train revolutionized television and transformed the music industry by providing a premier national showcase dedicated to Black artists and culture. The program featured legendary performers from soul, R&B, funk, disco and, eventually, Hip-Hop.

Artists did not have to water themselves down or be filtered through someone else’s interpretation of Blackness. They were able to appear before a national audience with dignity, style and authenticity.

The show introduced audiences to emerging performers, helped records climb the charts and gave established artists a space to connect directly with Black consumers. An appearance on Soul Train could introduce a record, a dance or an artist to millions of viewers.

That was real cultural and economic power.

More Than Music

The performers were only part of the story.

The Soul Train dancers became stars in their own right. Their clothing, hairstyles, movements and personalities influenced what young people wore, how they danced and how they expressed themselves across the country.

Then there was the legendary Soul Train Line.

Two rows of dancers would form while individuals and couples made their way down the middle, using those few seconds to show the world exactly who they were. There were no judges holding up scorecards. There was no need for perfection. It was about style, confidence, individuality and freedom.

The Soul Train Line became a powerful symbol of community, self-expression and uninhibited Black joy.

Week after week, Black America saw itself celebrated on television—beautiful, fashionable, innovative, soulful, confident, creative and unapologetically Black. Soul Train did not simply reflect the culture. It helped shape it, preserve it and export it to the world.

The Business Behind the Culture

That cultural power was also connected to economic power. Soul Train broke television barriers not only through who appeared on the stage, but through the companies and products advertised during the program.

One of its most important early partners was the Black-owned Johnson Products Company, whose brands—including Afro Sheen and Ultra Sheen—were created specifically for Black hair and Black consumers. Through Soul Train, those products reached millions of African American households directly, without depending on mainstream media outlets that often ignored or undervalued the Black consumer market.

That sponsorship mattered. Black-owned companies were helping support a Black-owned television institution, while the show gave those businesses a trusted national platform to promote products designed for our community. It was a powerful example of Black media, Black business and Black consumers working together.

The commercials were not merely breaks between performances. They were part of the larger cultural statement. They showed Black people using Black products, presented Black beauty as something worthy of celebration and demonstrated that Black audiences possessed real purchasing power.

Soul Train understood something the rest of the television industry was often slow—or unwilling—to recognize: Black culture was influential, Black consumers mattered, and Black-owned businesses deserved access to the same national marketplace as everyone else. Don Cornelius was not only creating a stage for the music; he was building an ecosystem in which Black artists, dancers, entrepreneurs and audiences could all benefit.

From the Dance Floor to the Awards Stage

Cornelius did not stop with the weekly television show. In 1987, he expanded the Soul Train legacy by creating the Soul Train Music Awards, giving Black artists a prestigious awards platform centered on their accomplishments in R&B, soul, Hip-Hop, jazz and gospel. The inaugural ceremony aired on March 23, 1987, extending Cornelius’ original mission beyond showcasing Black talent to formally recognizing and honoring Black musical excellence.

Originally ran from 1987 to 2007 under founder Don Cornelius before being revived by BET in 2009. Cornelius continued expanding the Soul Train brand in 1995 with the creation of the Soul Train Lady of Soul Awards, an annual celebration designed specifically to honor the achievements of women in R&B, jazz, Hip-Hop, and gospel music.

In 2021, the Soul Train Awards brought the celebration to the world-famous Apollo Theater in Harlem, marking the first time in the ceremony’s history that it was held in New York City. But the moment became about more than music and awards.

In keeping with the community-centered spirit of Soul Train, ten Harlem businesses and nonprofit organizations each received a $10,000 grant to support their recovery from the devastating economic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. It was another example of the Soul Train legacy extending beyond entertainment—using its platform not only to celebrate Black excellence, but also to invest directly in the Black communities that helped create and sustain the culture.

Once again, Cornelius identified a void and created something to fill it. Through Soul Train, he gave Black artists a national stage to perform. Through the Soul Train Music Awards, he gave them a stage where their creativity, influence, and achievements could be celebrated on their own terms. It was another example of Cornelius understanding that representation was important—but ownership, recognition and control were equally essential.

Before Content Creation Had a Name: Don Cornelius Owned the Platform and Controlled the Culture

Don Cornelius was a Black content creator before “content creator” ever became a popular phrase. Long before social media, streaming platforms and digital media allowed creators to build their own audiences, Cornelius understood the power of controlling the platform, owning the product and speaking directly to the people.

He did not simply host Soul Train—he created it, produced it, owned it and turned it into a nationally syndicated cultural institution. He built a space where Black artists could be seen, Black businesses could advertise, Black consumers could be respected, and Black culture could be presented without being filtered through someone else’s lens.

In many ways, Don Cornelius provided the blueprint for today’s independent Black media entrepreneurs. He proved that creating the content was only part of the equation. The real power came from owning the platform, controlling the narrative and making sure the culture—and the people who created it—benefited from its success.

When Dick Clark Tried to Derail Soul Train—Dick Clark, Soul Unlimited and The Fight for Soul Train. Black Ownership Versus Corporate Appropriation

As Soul Train grew in popularity and cultural influence, American Bandstand host and producer Dick Clark attempted to compete with it by launching ABC’s Soul Unlimited, hosted by Buster Jones. And let’s be honest—Jones was no Don Cornelius. He lacked Cornelius’ commanding presence, unmistakable voice, effortless cool and authentic connection to the Black artists, dancers and audience that made Soul Train what it was.

The rival program targeted the same growing Black audience that had embraced Don Cornelius’ Black-created, Black-produced, and Black-owned cultural institution.

Clark reportedly viewed the Saturday afternoon television audience as his territory, telling Rolling Stone, “That’s my time period. If ABC wants to put a Black Bandstand on, then I’ll do it.”

But this was about much more than two television programs competing for ratings.

Cornelius had created something specifically for Black audiences and had done what very few Black people had been allowed to do in mainstream television: maintain ownership and control. Now a major network and one of the most powerful figures in television were attempting to create a competing version of the very concept Cornelius had built.

That was viewed by many as an attack on Black ownership.

The issue was not simply whether viewers preferred one dance show over another. The larger question was whether Black people would be allowed to create, control and profit from our own culture—or whether something created by a Black man would be copied, repackaged and controlled by more powerful outside interests.

Black Leaders Fought Back—How Don Cornelius, Clarence Avant and Jesse Jackson Saved Soul Train

Civil rights leader Rev. Jesse Jackson, Operation PUSH and other influential Black leaders rallied behind Cornelius. They pressured ABC and reportedly threatened a boycott of the network.

Music industry executive Clarence Avant—widely known as “The Black Godfather”—also played a decisive role. Avant used his relationships and influence within the entertainment industry to confront ABC leadership directly, making it clear that an effort to imitate and undermine a Black-owned institution would not go unchallenged.

With Cornelius, Jackson, Avant, Operation PUSH, and the broader Black community standing together, the pressure became impossible for ABC to ignore.

Soul Unlimited was canceled after only a few episodes.

Soul Train, meanwhile, continued its historic journey.

The victory was about far more than protecting one television show. It demonstrated the power of Black unity, ownership and organized resistance against the appropriation and corporate takeover of something created specifically to celebrate Black music, dance and culture.

It remains a powerful example of Black artists, activists, executives and audiences coming together to defend one of the few Black-owned institutions operating within mainstream television.

The Fight for Black Ownership

That battle must also be viewed within the larger history of Black business ownership in America.

Black businesses have repeatedly faced deliberate suppression—from the physical destruction of thriving Black commercial districts to discriminatory banking practices, redlining and systemic policies that restricted access to capital and limited opportunities for growth.

Against that history, Don Cornelius owning and producing a nationally syndicated television show was nothing short of revolutionary.

The battle over Soul Train was never simply about ratings or control of a Saturday afternoon time slot. It was about protecting Black ownership, preserving cultural control and defending the right of Black people to create, present and profit from the music, fashion, dance and culture we gave to the world.

For 35 nationally syndicated seasons—from October 2, 1971, through March 25, 2006—Soul Train produced 1,117 episodes. When its 1970 local Chicago debut is included, the program’s television history stretched across approximately 36 years.

That is not simply longevity. That is legacy.

Don Cornelius took an idea that television executives doubted and transformed it into one of the longest-running syndicated programs in television history. More importantly, he created a space where generations of Black people could see themselves celebrated rather than caricatured, centered rather than pushed to the margins, and presented with love, pride, and soul.

Soul Train did not just take us on “The Hippest Trip in America.”

It changed the destination of Black music, television and culture forever.

Hip-Hop returned to the park—the place where the culture first found its voice, built its community and learned how to turn two turntables, a microphone, a piece of cardboard and a can of spray paint into a worldwide movement.

Doug E. Fresh and Funk Flex headlined a true-school SummerStage park jam that celebrates Hip-Hop in the borough where it was born. More than simply a concert, the event represents a return to the culture’s humble and joyous beginnings—when DJs controlled the crowd, MCs moved the people, dancers transformed concrete into a stage, and graffiti artists turned city walls into colorful expressions of identity, resistance, and creativity.

Doug E. Fresh, the legendary “Human Beatbox,” remains one of Hip-Hop’s most pivotal and innovative figures. With nothing more than his mouth and a microphone, he recreated the sounds of drum machines and special effects, helping redefine what was possible in live performance. His early collaborations with Slick Rick, including the foundational classics “The Show” and “La Di Da Di,” continue to influence generations of artists.

Funk Flex is equally essential to the history of New York Hip-Hop. More than a DJ, he is a radio, club, and cultural institution who has helped introduce some of the city’s biggest artists and records while continuing to keep his finger on the pulse of Hip-Hop and R&B.

DJ Funkmaster Flex rocked the ones and twos, playing all the classics and breakbeats every emcee rushed mics in the park to rap over, while The World's Greatest Entertainer, Doug E. Fresh, warmed up the crowd doing what he do, and then Doug E.Fresh & Keni Burke performed “Keep Rising To The Top.”

The 40th anniversary of Summerstage at Crotona Park was a celebration for JDL of the Cold Crush Brothers. For those too young to know, JDL (Jerome Wilson, also known as Jerry Dee Lewis or "the Hutmaker") was a legendary Hip-Hop MC and core member of the pioneering Bronx group, the Cold Crush Brothers.

On March 23, 2026, the Hip-Hop community lost one of the most essential voices of its pioneering era. JDL of the legendary Cold Crush Brothers passed away at the age of 65, leaving behind a legacy that helped set the standard of what an MC and a real Hip-Hop performance should look, sound, and feel like.

JDL came of age in the gritty yet creatively explosive environment of the South Bronx during the 1970s, when Hip-Hop was still being built block by block, park jam by park jam, and rhyme by rhyme. Before becoming a cornerstone of the legendary Cold Crush Brothers, he sharpened his skills with crews including the Brandywine Crew and the Force MCs.

His rise within the culture accelerated in 1979, when he joined a formidable Cold Crush Brothers lineup that included DJs Tony Tone and Charlie Chase, alongside MCs Grandmaster Caz, Almighty Kay Gee and Supreme Easy A.D. Together, the four MCs became known as the “Cold Crush Four,” a unit celebrated for its precision, coordination, showmanship and professionalism.

By this tough voice, all the ladies can tell
The man on the mic, the L, the L
The hut, the maker, the heart, the breaker
On any stage, I'm the number one flaker
Do it like this, and you will see
Nobody in the place can flake like me
'Cause I'm the L, baby, baby, the L, baby, baby
The one who rocks you all swell, baby, baby
Well, it's '82, and everything is fine
But I still got a thought in my mind
That do you still listen to a MC rhyme?
Well, if you do, well, I'll bet you too
That a lotta them duck MCs are through
And if you still got money and you wanna bet
Well, I'll bet a hundred dollars I'm not whipped yet
'Cause I'm the L, L, L, L, the one who rocks so well
Sending all the fly girls to the motel

While Grandmaster Caz was widely recognized as the lyrical mastermind, JDL brought a different but equally essential ingredient to the group. He injected energy, humor, personality, and sharp sarcasm into every performance. Nicknamed the “Hut Maker,” JDL possessed the rare ability to command a crowd, maintain the momentum, and keep the party moving—even under the pressure of Hip-Hop’s most competitive stages.

The celebration features live performances from the legendary Cold Crush Brothers, T-Ski Valley, Soulsonic Force, Keni Burke and others, connecting Hip-Hop’s pioneering generation with the audiences carrying the culture forward. Completing the experience, James Top, Kingbee and BG 183 created live graffiti on-site, ensuring that the visual art form that helped define Hip-Hop’s earliest days receives its proper place in the celebration.

One of the first MCs to hit the stage Friday was T-Ski Valley, who took the crowd back with his 1981 classic “Catch the Beat.” The influential joint has been sampled at least 82 times by an impressive list of artists, including Eminem, De La Soul, DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, A Tribe Called Quest, Sweet Tee and Jazzy Joyce, Rock Master Scott and the Dynamic Three, Cash Money & Marvelous, and many others.

One of the highlights for me was seeing the legendary DJ Hollywood still rocking the mic at 71, with Doug E. Fresh on the beatbox. In the 1970s, DJ Hollywood became known for DJ sets during which he addressed the audience with rhythmic call-and-response segments. His rhythmic MC sets have led him to be credited as one of the first-ever rappers. He was the original King of New York when hustlers wore sharkskin suits. At 71, he showed he can still rock a party

Doug E. Fresh couldn’t let him leave the stage without giving the crowd one more joint. When you heard, “Oooooh oooh ooooh,” you knew what was coming. He blessed those in attendance with his classic “Hollywood’s World,” a record that has been sampled more than 40 times. Its most famous use came when Mary J. Blige interpolated it on “I Love You,” from her critically acclaimed sophomore album, My Life, released on November 29, 1994, through Uptown Records and MCA Records.

The “Renegades of Funk”—Mr. Biggs, Pow Wow and The G.L.O.B.E.—had everyone “Looking for the Perfect Beat” when the legendary Soulsonic Force hit the stage. They ran through several of their classics, including the groundbreaking 1982 anthem “Planet Rock.”

More than four decades later, “Planet Rock” remains one of the most revolutionary and influential recordings in Hip-Hop history. The futuristic fusion of electronic rhythms, funk, and Hip-Hop helped lay the foundation for electro, expanded the sonic possibilities of the culture, and introduced a sound whose impact can still be heard throughout music today.

For me personally and many other Real Hip-Hop Headz, the crew everyone was waiting for, The Cold Crush Brothers, closed the show. Funk Flex, a longtime CC4 fan, introduced “the Cold Crushing, motherfucking, tough ass four emcees.” The Cold Crush Brothers reminded everyone that they were especially known for their memorable routines, which included harmonies, melodies, and stage-stomping performances. The Cold Crush Brothers set the standard for emceeing, influencing several future emcees, including myself. They became known as the Rolling Stones of Hip Hop. Because of the attention they began to attract, many groups would try to battle them to gain street credibility and for Hip Hop supremacy.

“Industry shady, it need to be taken over
Label owners hate me, I'm raisin' the status quo up
I'm overcharging niggas for what they did to the Cold Crush
Pay us like you owe us for all the years that you hoed us
We can talk, but money talks, so talk more bucks” - Izzo (H.O.V.A.) BY Jay Z

Then they performed their routine over “Planet Rock’ dedicated to the Soulsonic Force because, as Caz explained, “we were so inspired by it [Planet Rock] we had to do something like this.” And they took it back to Harlem World as they went into another one of my favorite routines, that starts out“If you came for a party let us know…”

Then they went into, “We don’t mean no dis-respect, it’s time we put you in check eighty-two, it’s not that we’re conceded, it’s just that we defeated allllll of you…..” I ain’t gonna lie—it was hard not to sing along with them. But I didn’t want to be one of those people who records the entire performance, only to play the video back later and realize all you can hear is their own voice singing louder than the artists onstage. But I was singing along in my head, word! And believe me, I'm singing right along with them right now as I play the video and write this! I cannot tell you how many times I played those cassettes with my people in the park, singing every word!

They ended the night celebrating their lost member, their fallen soldier, the legendary JDL.

This night was never simply about nostalgia. It was a living tribute to the DJs, MCs, and graffiti artists who transformed neighborhood park jams into a global cultural force. These were not just performers revisiting old records; they were architects standing inside the culture they helped build, reminding everyone in attendance where Hip-Hop came from and why its foundation still matters.

For me, it was also personal. These were some of the emcees who influenced me—and countless others—to pick up a microphone, study the craft, and understand that being an MC was about more than rhyming words. It was about commanding the stage, moving the crowd, developing your own style, and respecting the culture that made it all possible.

More than five decades after those first Bronx block parties, Hip-Hop remains rooted in community, creativity, competition, and self-expression. The music may have traveled around the world, but on this night, it felt like it had returned home—to the park, to the people and to the borough where it all began.

And as long as the pioneers are still here to tell their stories, rock the crowd and pass the culture forward, we must continue to celebrate them, document their contributions and give them their flowers while they can still smell them. Because without them, there is no us—and there is no Hip-Hop as we know it today.

From time to time, I’m going to dig back into the crates and revisit the classic Hip-Hop joints that moved me, schooled me, and helped shape the way I rock the mic, tell our stories, and represent this culture. These are more than old records—they are part of the soundtrack of my journey and the blueprint for the artist and writer I became.

Today, we’re looking back and revisiting Run-D.M.C.’s classic “Here We Go (Live at the Funhouse),” one of the rawest and most influential live recordings in Hip-Hop history.

“Here We Go” captured Run-D.M.C. in their purest form—a raw, high-energy performance that showcased the group’s unmatched stage presence, hard-hitting call-and-response rhymes, and Jam Master Jay’s razor-sharp mastery behind the turntables.

Even before the beat dropped, you knew something different was about to happen. The moment Run and D.M.C. hit the crowd with, “How y’all feel out there?” and began trading those perfectly timed opening lines—introducing themselves, Jam Master Jay and the year 1983—it immediately pulled you right into the room and made you feel like you were part of the party.

By the time they declared themselves “the Krush Groovin’, the body-movin’, the record makin’ and the record breakin’,” before counting it off—“one, two, three, and…”—you already knew it was about to go down. The beat had not kicked in yet, but the confidence, chemistry and crowd control were already undeniable. This was not just the beginning of a song. It was an announcement that this was Real Hip-Hop, and that Run-D.M.C. had arrived, and that everybody listening needed to pay attention.

Its influence can still be heard throughout Hip-Hop and beyond. According to WhoSampled.com, “Here We Go (Live at the Funhouse)” has been sampled in more than 1,100 songs by artists including J Dilla, Cypress Hill, Public Enemy, Mary Mary, Black Moon, the Black Eyed Peas, Junior M.A.F.I.A. featuring The Notorious B.I.G., Gang Starr, De La Soul, TLC, Das EFX, LL Cool J, DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, and countless others.

Recorded at Manhattan’s legendary Funhouse located at 526 W. 26th St., on August 5, 1983, “Here We Go” captures Run-D.M.C. before the platinum albums, Adidas endorsement, and MTV superstardom—when three young brothers from Hollis, Queens, were still proving themselves one crowd at a time.

Over the thunderous drums of Billy Squier’s “The Big Beat”—the 1980 rock record whose legendary drum break had already become a favorite for MCs to rhyme over in the parks—Jam Master Jay cuts and scratches while Run and D.M.C. trade rhymes, finish each other’s lines and command the room with a chemistry that sounds effortless.

There is no elaborate studio production, polished hook or calculated crossover strategy—just two microphones, two turntables, booming drums and pure crowd control.

The performance documents the moment Run-D.M.C. began changing the sound of Hip-Hop. Their stripped-down beats, forceful delivery and back-and-forth rhyme style replaced disco-era instrumentation with something harder, leaner and more aggressive. Run was the energetic master of ceremonies, D.M.C. supplied the booming authority, and Jam Master Jay held everything together behind the turntables.

I was in the eleventh grade when this joint came out, and it was one of the first times I heard the same raw sound and electrifying energy we regularly witnessed in the parks and at parties captured on record—and actually played on the radio.

“Here We Go” had all of us in the park working on routines while somebody blasted it from a big boombox. We studied the timing, the movement, the call-and-response, and the way Run and D.M.C. passed the microphone back and forth without ever losing the rhythm.

Five years later, that same energy influenced the back-and-forth flow B-Luv, and I brought to the stage as JVC FORCE. We worked on our routines and harmonies every day, following the tradition of groups like the Cold Crush Brothers, The Force MCs, and the Treacherous Three, whose cassette tapes we played over and over.

That was how we learned. We listened, studied, practiced, and then added our own flavor to it. “Here We Go” was more than a record we loved—it became part of the blueprint for how we performed.

For those of us who were coming of age at the time, “Here We Go” did not sound like someone trying to recreate Hip-Hop inside a studio. It sounded like somebody had placed a microphone in the middle of the party, pressed record, and allowed the rest of the world to hear what we had already been experiencing.

Here we go, here we go
Here we go, here we go, here we, here we, here we go
DMC and DJ Run
Dum diddy-dum diddy-diddy-dum-dum
We're rockin' on the mic, and then you know where we're from
Dum diddy-dum diddy-diddy-dum-dum
We hope y'all ready for the big beat drum
Drum diddy-drum diddy-diddy-drum-drum
So people in the place here the big beat come
Here it come, here it come, here it kiddi-come-come
Come on, everybody, let's all get down
What we have is a brand new sound
So nobody out there be misled
We make up all these rhymes inside our head
The other MC's cannot compete
When we rap on the mic to this big beat
The beat is big, it's kind of large
And when we're on the mic, we're in charge

That is what makes “Here We Go” so important. It preserves the energy of an early-1980s New York Hip-Hop show—the call-and-response, the overlapping voices, the scratches, the imperfections, the crowd’s reactions and the competitive confidence of MCs determined to leave no doubt about who controlled the microphone.

More than four decades later, it remains one of the greatest live recordings in Hip-Hop history. It did not merely allow listeners to hear Run-D.M.C.; it transported them inside the Funhouse, placed them directly in front of the stage, and allowed them to witness three future Kings of Rock helping redirect the culture in real time.

Today was a good day.

My congressman handed me a piece of history, or at least a piece of history as far as I am concerned.

On June 26, 2025, Congressman George Latimer stood on the floor of the United States House of Representatives recognizing the presidents and vice presidents of the NAACP branches throughout his congressional district. I have had the honor of serving as vice president of the Mount Vernon, New York Branch #2161 of the NAACP for the last three and a half years, and my name was among those he entered into the Congressional Record.

More than a year later, on Saturday, July 25, 2026, Congressman Latimer attended our Community Heroes Luncheon, where we honored extraordinary individuals whose leadership, service, and commitment have made significant contributions to the Mount Vernon community. During the program, he presented our branch president, Kathie Brewington, and me with framed copies of the words he had read before Congress.

They came in the kind of formal folders you might receive with a high school or college diploma, complete with the seal of the United States House of Representatives on the front.

He read the recognition aloud, presented it to us, and then said something that did not fully register with me at first:

“Your name will forever be in the Congressional Record. Anytime someone Googles your name and the Congressional Record, they will see it.”

I was honored, but I was also the master of ceremonies for the luncheon and the vice president of the branch. We were still at the beginning of the program, and I had an entire event to help keep moving. There were honorees to introduce, speakers to bring to the podium, transitions to make, and a room full of people depending on me to keep everything on track.

So, while I appreciated the moment, I did not really have time to grasp the weight of what he had just told us.

Later, I shared what Congressman Latimer said with my friend Andrew Wang. Andrew did exactly what the congressman suggested; he Googled my name alongside the Congressional Record.

“Yo, it’s right there,” he told me before sending me a screenshot.

I posted a few pictures on IG and began receiving congratulatory texts and messages from people telling me how significant the recognition was. But again, I had spent the day focused on the luncheon. I had not yet allowed myself to sit with it.

When I finally got home, I ate some leftover salad from the event and crashed. I had been up all night writing the night before, and my body had finally reached its limit.

A few hours later, I woke up and actually read the document.

That was when it hit me.

Oh, shit.

My name will forever be in the Congressional Record.

I have received numerous awards, honors, proclamations, and certificates over the last decade or so, but this felt different.

As a member of JVC FORCE, I toured the world, performed for audiences in different countries, and received recognition for my contributions to Hip-Hop, including a Congressional Proclamation from Congressman Jamaal Bowman. We went back on tour overseas in September 2025 for the first time since 1991. I had the pleasure of speaking at the Long Island Music and Entertainment Hall of Fame on Saturday, February 28, 2026. As a Hip-Hop writer and journalist, I have interviewed many of the artists I grew up admiring and was inspired by, as well as several future stars when they were beginning their careers.

I have interviewed some of my favorite athletes, including Muhammad Ali and his daughter, Laila Ali, in Atlanta before one of her final fights. I have interviewed several actors, athletes, and entertainers such as Nia Long, Vivica A. Fox, Halle Berry, Pam Grier, Larenz Tate, Blair Underwood, Melvin and Mario Van Peeples, Frankie Faison (when he starred in ‘The Killing Of Kenneth Chamberlain’), Wayne Lewis of Atlantic Starr, Melba Moore, Dallas Cowboys offensive lineman Ajani Cornelius when he graduated high school and was entering college, along with far too many others to name.

I have interviewed media entrepreneur Byron Allen and legendary Black radio host Bob Law. I had the pleasure of interviewing Dr. Giulio Cavallo, chairman of the Westchester County Independence Party, who Westchester Magazine called “The Most Powerful Man in Westchester,” in a July 10, 2008 article, several times. I learned a lot about politics from Dr. Cavallo in the early days of Black Westchester.

I have interviewed Abdul Hafeez Muhammad, the prominent Nation of Islam minister who served as student minister of Mosque No. 7 in Harlem and as East Coast regional minister. I also interviewed his predecessors, Conrad Muhammad (Tillard) and Khalid Abdul Muhammad, as well as his successor, Brother Arthur Muhammad.

As a young journalist, I covered many court cases, including the 1998 Tawana Brawley defamation case involving the Rev. Al Sharpton and attorneys Alton Maddox and C. Vernon Mason for The Daily Challenge Newspaper.

As editor-in-chief of Black Westchester, the newspaper Damon K. Jones and I started 12 years ago in 2014, I have interviewed every elected official in Westchester County and the surrounding areas from School Board to Congressman. Many high profile figures including Senator Chuck Schumer and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, former FBI Assistant Director for Counterintelligence and MSNBC National Security Analyst Frank Figliuzzi, former Assistant United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York, legal analyst for both MSNBC and NBC News, and most recently Westchester County District Attorney Mimi Rocah, Yusef Salaam of the Exonerated Five before and after he became a New York City Councilman, Eric Adams before and after he became Mayor of NYC, Public Advocate of the City of New York Jumaane Williams, Dr. Lenora Fulani the first Black woman (and first African American of any gender) to secure ballot access in all 50 states during a U.S. presidential election and many others.

For twelve years, we helped change the political landscape of Westchester County, helped many of our people win elected office, and held elected officials and leaders’ feet to the fire.

For four consecutive years from 2020-2023, Damon & I made the City & State Magazine Westchester Power 100 list, which highlights the year’s most prominent power players, along with more locally focused leaders of all kinds, including government officials, business executives, health care leaders, nonprofit heads, union chiefs, advocates, activists and more.

On Friday, February 24, 2023, I was honored by the Greater New York Chamber of Commerce with the Bill McCreary Legend Honoree Award during its annual Black History Month celebration at the Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square. The award recognized my impactful journalism, advocacy, and leadership through Black Westchester. The honor was especially meaningful because it bears the name of Bill McCreary, the Emmy Award-winning trailblazing broadcaster who helped open doors for generations of Black journalists. He was a man of immense and unimpeachable integrity, known for his no-nonsense demeanor and unwavering commitment to the truth—particularly when the subject involved matters of serious concern to the public and to our people.

I have received two journalism fellowships through the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism, the Local Media Association (LMA) Digital Innovation Award for Best Local Website- an award that recognizes the best all-around local media websites in 2019, and more than 100 proclamations, certificates, awards, and other honors, incluidng the M. Paul Rudd Award January 2024, from the Black Dems of Westchester, for extensive community leadership. I have written and published three books. I have covered history, documented history, and, on more than one occasion, found myself standing in the middle of history.

Yet, with all of those accomplishments, it was my work with the Mount Vernon Branch of the NAACP that was recognized on the floor of Congress and permanently entered into the official record of the United States government. There is definitely something humbling about that.

The music, the journalism, the books, the interviews and the awards have all been important parts of my journey. But this recognition was connected to service—to the work of fighting for civil rights, advocating for our community and standing alongside people committed to making Mount Vernon better. That is what made this different.

Having your name in the Congressional Record means you were officially mentioned in the printed daily record of the U.S. House of Representatives and Senate. Such recognition often comes through a tribute delivered by a member of the House of Representatives or Senate honoring an individual’s community service, leadership, retirement, or significant achievements. Once entered, that tribute becomes part of the permanent historical record of Congress.

Long after the luncheon ended, after the applause faded, after the pictures were posted and the congratulatory messages slowed down, the words remained.

My name, along with the names of the other presidents and vice presidents of NAACP branches across New York’s 16th Congressional District—which includes portions of Westchester County and the Bronx—has been permanently entered into the Congressional Record.

Forever.

And twelve hours later, it finally sank in!

The Microphone Fiend continues to set the standard and show he is cut from a different cloth.

Nearly four decades after he helped revolutionize the art of emceeing, the God MC is still operating in a lane that very few emcees—or artists, period—have ever been able to enter, let alone remain in. The new single does not find Rakim attempting to chase the current sound, imitate a younger generation, or rely solely on nostalgia. Instead, he returns to the fundamentals that made his name synonymous with lyrical excellence: precision, intelligence, confidence, control, and an unmistakable command of the microphone.

Produced by Rakim himself, “A Different Kind,” released Friday, July 24, 2026, is the first single and his solo joint from the forthcoming album The Godbody, a major East Coast/West Coast collaborative project pairing Rakim with Kurupt (of Tha Dogg Pound) and Masta Killa (of Wu-Tang Clan). The release also marks his first brand-new solo single accompanied by an official music video in more than 15 years.

From the moment Rakim begins rhyming, there is no mistaking who is on the mic. His voice still carries that same calm authority—the kind that never needs to yell to demand attention. The emcee who was ‘rough enough to break NY from Long Island’ has always possessed the rare ability to sound relaxed while delivering technically complex verses. His flow remains smooth, measured, and calculated, allowing every word to land without forcing the listener to keep up with unnecessary vocal gymnastics.

“This is my great flood flow, ask Noah, it’s all over, the horror, like the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah

Wait—let me stop struggling to find the words to explain what I woke up to this morning. At this point, I have long since run out of adjectives to describe… “The wordsmith of rap, title is undescribable, can’t find or describe the right words, Rakim is that!”

Some things you simply have to experience for yourself: Check out the official music video below—and then I’ll come back and attempt to continue.

I woke up to a text with a link to a snippet of this joint on Instagram, and I immediately jumped out of bed to find the full video on YouTube. I can’t front—I watched it more than a couple of times before powering up my laptop. And now, here we are.

“Hit the restart, or this won’t end well/ closed cyphers, only real artists, real skills, no biters….

I hit restart several times, and one thing was certain: my day wasn’t gonna end well until I tried to get what I was feeling out of my head after my being had been completely invaded by the Eighteenth Letter himself, The R!

From the moment Rakim begins rhyming, there is no mistaking who is on the mic. His voice still carries that same calm authority—the kind that never needs to yell to demand attention. Rakim has always possessed the rare ability to sound relaxed while delivering some of the most technically complex verses. His flow remains smooth, measured, and calculated, allowing every word to land without forcing the listener to keep up with unnecessary vocal gymnastics. While, at the same time, forcing you to hit rewind again and again—not only to catch what he said, but to fully appreciate how he said it.

That has always been part of Rakim’s greatness. He does not simply rap over the beat; he seems to move through it, finding pockets and patterns that other emcees might never hear. “A Different Kind” serves as another reminder that cadence, breath control, and lyrical structure are not new developments in Hip-Hop. Rakim helped create the blueprint.

The record feels both contemporary and timeless. It carries enough weight and edge to stand alongside today’s releases, but its foundation remains rooted in the qualities that once defined a serious emcee: original style, carefully constructed bars, confidence without gimmicks, and respect for the craft. Rakim does not sound like an artist trying to prove that he can still rap. He sounds like an artist who knows he never stopped being one of the best.

“As close to perfect is him, if I was born with a twin/ Look you can tell the difference, This is my Hannibal on an elephant entrance…”

There is also something important about hearing Rakim release new solo music at this stage of his career. Too often, Hip-Hop treats its pioneers like museum pieces—celebrated for what they accomplished decades ago but rarely given the same attention when they continue creating. Rock, jazz, country, and R&B regularly allow veteran artists to grow older while remaining active and relevant. Hip-Hop must learn to do the same, cause Rakim is the latest example of legendary emcees who refuse to just sit back and be celebrated for the classics they dropped in Hip-Hop’s yesteryears.

“A Different Kind” makes that argument without having to say it directly. Rakim’s presence alone challenges the culture’s obsession with youth. Great lyricism does not come with an expiration date, and mastery does not disappear simply because the musical landscape changes.

The accompanying video further reinforces his stature and identity. Rakim appears composed and confident, carrying himself with the quiet power of someone who understands both his place in Hip-Hop history and the responsibility that comes with it. He is not attempting to recreate when he “came in the door,” in 1986. He is showing us what decades of experience, discipline, and devotion to the art can sound like in 2026.

The title is not merely another boast. Rakim truly is a different kind of emcee.

Before him, many rappers could rock a party, move a crowd, or win a battle. Rakim expanded what was possible with rhyme patterns, internal rhyme schemes, multisyllabic structures, imagery, and conversational flow. His lyrical prowess changed the vocabulary of emceeing and raised the technical standard for everyone to “Follow The Leader.” That influence can still be heard throughout Hip-Hop generations later.

That is what makes “A Different Kind” more than another new release from a legendary artist. It is a reminder of what happens when an emcee develops an original voice instead of following trends. It is proof that longevity and lyrical excellence can coexist. Most importantly, it is Rakim once again showing the culture the difference between simply making rap records and mastering the art of emceeing.

The God MC is not back—because he never really left.

He is simply reminding everybody that he has always been “A Different Kind.”

Hip-Hop, culture, history, and community service came together on Thursday, July 23, as Jolo’s Kitchen in New Rochelle hosted a special Haile Selassie Day celebration featuring live performances by INI and The Juggaknots, with music provided by . The evening also included a special guest appearance by legendary producer, DJ, and lyricist Large Professor, a founding member of the influential Hip-Hop group Main Source.

The event was more than another Hip-Hop show. It was designed as a full day of culture and community, beginning with free meals for local residents from noon until 7:00 p.m. and continuing with an evening performance celebrating three decades of independent Hip-Hop, creativity, and cultural expression.

The lineup brought together artists whose music represents the thoughtful, lyrical, and sample-driven sound that helped define one of Hip-Hop’s most respected eras. INI has maintained a loyal following through music rooted in lyricism, jazz-influenced production, and an unmistakable New York sound. The Juggaknots have similarly earned respect for imaginative storytelling, originality, and their refusal to compromise their artistic identity.

Large Professor’s presence added another layer of Hip-Hop history to the celebration. As an artist, producer, and member of Main Source, his influence can be heard throughout generations of New York Hip-Hop. His participation connected the event’s community-centered purpose to a musical legacy built on craftsmanship, knowledge, and respect for the culture.

The celebration also honored the 134th birthday of Emperor Haile Selassie I, who was born on July 23, 1892. His birthday is recognized within Rastafari culture through community gatherings, spiritual reflection, drumming, and celebrations that emphasize African identity, unity, and Pan-African principles.

That cultural connection made the gathering especially meaningful. Hip-Hop has always been at its strongest when it does more than entertain. From its earliest days in New York City parks and community centers, the culture has created spaces where people could gather, share knowledge, feed one another, celebrate African heritage, and transform struggle into art.

Bringing respected Hip-Hop artists together while providing free food to the community reflected that original spirit. The music may have drawn people to the event, but the deeper message was about fellowship, service, and using culture as a force to strengthen the people.

Thirty years later, the music of INI, consisting of Rob O, Pete Rock’s brother Grap Luva, I-Love, and Marco Polo (Jolo of Jolo’s Kitchen), and The Juggaknots, consisting of siblings Breeze Brewin, Queen Herawin, and Buddy Slim, continues to resonate because it represents a period when originality, lyrical ability, and substance were not optional—they were requirements. Joined by Large Professor, the celebration offered longtime listeners an opportunity to revisit that sound while introducing another generation to artists who helped preserve Hip-Hop’s creative foundation.

The Juggaknots—best known for their acclaimed underground classic “Clear Blue Skies”—opened the show. From everything I heard, they tore the stage down, but unfortunately, I arrived after their performance. Their debut album, Clear Blue Skies, is considered an underground classic by critics such as Exclaim!, HipHopDX, and many real Hip-Hop Heads! Kinda disappointed I missed their show; I was really looking forward to checking out their performance, but I could not get there any earlier!

INI celebrated the 30th anniversary of their classic material with a special set featuring several of their most revered underground gems, including “Fakin Jax,” “What You Say” and “Think Twice.”

Grap Luva and Rob O performed their verses from the standout 1992 posse cut “The Basement,” featured on Pete Rock & CL Smooth’s critically acclaimed debut album, Mecca and the Soul Brother. The classic track also featured Heavy D and Deda, also known as Dida.

Then Mekolicious—best known for his collaborations with legendary producer Pete Rock during the 1990s and for being featured in the December 1997 edition of The Source magazine’s influential “Unsigned Hype” column—joined INI for a performance of “Grown Man Sport,” the fan-favorite track later featured in the premiere episode of HBO’s comedy-drama series Entourage. He then stepped into the spotlight for his solo selections, “Hope the World Don’t Stop” and “What You Waiting For,” performing alongside INI’s Rob O.

Large Pro joined INI onstage for a performance of the classic 1990s underground hip-hop track, “To Each His Own.”

He then took the crowd back with a performance of “Looking at the Front Door,” Main Source’s acclaimed 1991 lead single from the group’s groundbreaking debut album, Breaking Atoms, which celebrates its 35th anniversary this year.

The Haile Selassie Day gathering served as a reminder that Hip-Hop and community have never been separate. At their best, they feed one another—literally and spiritually. This was not simply a live performance. It was a celebration of legacy, African culture, independent artistry, and the enduring power of Hip-Hop to bring people together.

Jolo’s Kitchen is a Juice Bar & Vegan Cafe offering plant-based meats, Classic Caribbean dishes & more in a modest, cozy space, located at 49 Lawton St, New Rochelle, NY 10801. For more information, visit their website and follow on Facebook and Instagram.

INI will next take the stage at the National Hip-Hop Museum’s celebration of Hip-Hop’s 53rd birthday during the Flavor Summit in Baltimore, Maryland, on Sunday, August 9th. For more information, updates, and more upcoming performances, follow INI on Instagram.

Follow Mekolicious on Instagram. Follow Steve Brock on Instagram. The Juggaknots can be found on Instagram, X (Twitter), and Facebook.

Follow the Legendary Producer, DJ, and Lyricist Large Professor on Facebook, Instagram, and X (Twitter), where he shares Hip-Hop history, crate-digging sessions, and live DJ set announcements.

On Monday, July 20, Maryland Governor and avid Hip-Hop head and music lover, Wes Moore, appeared on The Track Star Podcast, the weekly music show hosted by filmmaker and interviewer Jack Coyne. During the episode, 47-year-old Moore sat down with Coyne to explore the songs that have shaped his life—from the music that provided the soundtrack to his childhood and helped form his identity to the records that continue to inspire his leadership and public service today.

Moore—the first Black governor of Maryland and only the third African American ever elected governor in United States history, when he won the 2022 general election—reflected on some of the most defining and difficult moments of his childhood, including watching his father die in front of him when he was just three years old and subsequently moving with his mother and sisters to his grandparents’ home in the Bronx. He also discussed the complicated duality he experienced while attending the prestigious Riverdale Country School—often feeling too poor to relate to many of his classmates, yet perceived as too privileged to fully connect with some of the young people in his neighborhood, and then going to military school.

Gov. Moore also discussed signing Maryland’s Protecting Artists’ Creative Expression Act, better known as the PACE Act, into law on May 12, 2026. Taking effect on October 1, the legislation creates important protections against prosecutors unfairly using rap lyrics, poetry, music, films, visual art and other forms of creative expression as evidence in criminal and juvenile proceedings.

Under the new law, a judge must determine that the work was intended to be literal rather than fictional or figurative, is closely connected to the specific facts and timing of the alleged offense, is relevant to a disputed issue in the case, and has evidentiary value that outweighs its potential prejudicial effect.

The law does not completely prohibit the use of lyrics or other artistic works in court, but it establishes stronger safeguards to prevent creative expression—especially Hip-Hop—from being treated as an automatic confession of criminal activity.

Throughout the conversation, Moore explained how Hip-Hop helped him understand himself and the world around him—and how music ultimately became such an important part of his life. Sharing the stories behind the songs and artists that left a lasting impression on him, Moore and Coyne explored the cultural significance of The Notorious B.I.G., The Roots, KRS-One, Jay Z, Chubb Rock, Arrested Development, and A Tribe Called Quest, as well as the powerful social and political messages found in the music of Sam Cooke, Sounds of Blackness, and Nina Simone’s “Baltimore.” Together, they examined the powerful intersection of music, identity, leadership, politics, and storytelling.

Westley Watende Omari Moore is a businessman, author, and former U.S. Army officer, serving as the 63rd governor of Maryland since 2023. Moore was born in Maryland and raised primarily in New York.

He graduated from Johns Hopkins University and received a master's degree from Wolfson College, Oxford, as a Rhodes Scholar. After several years in the U.S. Army and Army Reserve, he became an investment banker in New York. Between 2010 and 2015, Moore published five books, including a young-adult novel. He served as CEO of the Robin Hood Foundation from 2017 to 2021. Moore authored The Other Wes Moore and The Work. He also hosted Beyond Belief on the Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN) and was an executive producer and writer for Coming Back with Wes Moore on PBS.

New episodes of The Track Star Podcast drop every week. You can watch full episodes of The Track Star Podcast on YouTube and Spotify, or check it out on Apple Podcasts, iHeart, and wherever you get your podcasts.

Share Real Talk From AJ Woodson

Celebrating Black Westchester’s twelfth anniversary gives me an opportunity to reflect on how we got here and to reintroduce ourselves to those discovering us for the first time—as well as those who may not have been riding with us for the entire journey. And to everyone who has supported us since day one, I paraphrase the words of the great African American poet Shawn Corey Carter: “Allow us to reintroduce ourselves…”

Over the past several years, many of you may have noticed that Black Westchester has devoted significant attention to the local political landscape. That work is important, but it represents only one part of who we are and what we have always done.

We take our responsibility as members of the Black press seriously because we understand the tradition we inherited. We stand on the shoulders of the pioneering African American newspapers that came before us—publications that informed their communities, challenged injustice, documented Black life and reported stories the mainstream press too often ignored, distorted or refused to tell.

That legacy stretches back to Freedom’s Journal, founded in 1827 by Samuel Cornish and John B. Russwurm as the nation’s first African American-owned and operated newspaper. It continued through institutions such as the Chicago Defender, the Detroit Tribune and the Pittsburgh Courier; through New York’s historic Amsterdam News; and locally through publications such as the Westchester Observer and the Westchester County Press.

These newspapers did much more than report the news of the day. They served as advocates, historians, watchdogs and trusted voices for Black communities. They celebrated our achievements, exposed injustice, challenged those in power, and preserved stories that might otherwise have been erased.

Black Westchester understands the importance of carrying that mission forward. Whether we are covering politics, education, criminal justice, business, health, sports, entertainment, faith, or community affairs, our purpose remains the same: to document what is happening around us and provide the news through a perspective rooted in the experiences, concerns, and aspirations of the Black community.

We understand the Black press is a critical—but often ignored—aspect of African-American history and culture. Along with churches, political and service organizations, cultural institutions, and schools and universities, the Black press has been central to community formation, protest and advocacy, education and literacy, and economic self-sufficiency. Since the earliest known black-owned and published newspaper, like the Freedom’s Journal, the black press has provided a public sphere for an aggrieved community barred from mainstream channels of discourse. These publications disseminated African-Americans’ ideas, accomplishments, and cultural products within their communities and to the rest of the world.

African American journalism has always served a dual purpose: reporting the news and helping transform the conditions affecting Black communities. The Black press has never functioned solely as a distributor of information. It has also been an advocate, organizer, watchdog and agent of social change.

For nearly two centuries, Black newspapers have been a vital source of African American political power—informing readers, shaping public opinion, challenging injustice and holding elected officials and institutions accountable. Even at their most commercially successful, these publications have remained defenders of our shared values, interests and collective well-being.

That tradition reminds us that journalism does not have to abandon objectivity to recognize injustice or remain silent in the name of neutrality. The Black press has always understood that accurately documenting inequality, amplifying overlooked voices and demanding accountability are essential parts of telling the complete story.

The 1944 annual meeting of the National Negro Press Association adopted a “Credo for the Negro Press.” The Credo begins:

I Shall Be a Crusader…

I Shall Be an Advocate…

I Shall Be a Herald…

I Shall Be a Mirror and a Record…

Matthew F. Delmont wrote in his book titled “Black Quotidian: Everyday History In African-American Newspapers,” published by the Stanford University Press in 2019;

The NNPA’s Credo Of The Black Press reads;

The Black Press believes that America can best lead the world away from racial and national antagonisms when it accords to every person, regardless of race, color or creed, full human and legal rights. Hating no person, the Black Press strives to help every person in the firm belief that all are hurt as long as anyone is held back. Since World War II, it has also served as the industry’s news service, a position that it has held without peer or competitor since the Associated Negro Press dissolved by 1970.

The Black press has played a crucial role in the Fourth Estate since its inception in the early 19th century. In the early days, the Black press reported mainly on issues affecting the newly-formed African- American community and identity. African-American news organizations highlighted the challenges and triumphs of the Black community, while providing a more nuanced portrait of the lives of Black Americans when mainstream media would report predominantly negative or otherwise bigoted stories of Black Americans.

Covering events and celebrating African-American excellence like the Westchester County Press, but also realizing the need to be more radical at times like the Mount Vernon-based Westchester Observer. Ben Anderson's motto was “Dedicated to Justice for All.” Ben Anderson wasn’t afraid to be an activist as well as accurately covering the movement of his time. Black Westchester tries to carry on the tradition of both Westchester Black Newspapers as we strive to inspire a new generation of truth-speakers.

Since our inception in 2014, Black Westchester has covered the movements, marches, and protests of the people while remaining at the forefront of the fight for freedom, justice, and equality.

We have stood beside families who lost loved ones at the hands of law enforcement, as well as those grieving victims of senseless gun violence committed by people who looked like them. We have given a platform to individuals who were wrongfully incarcerated, helping some tell their stories, regain their freedom, and ultimately clear their names.

Our reporting has also helped expose misconduct and abuse of power, contributing in some cases to officers being suspended, terminated or convicted. We have consistently held elected officials, community leaders and public institutions accountable—especially those who look like us and claim to represent us.

At times, our coverage has helped candidates gain the public’s trust and win office. In other cases, our reporting has contributed to voters deciding that certain officials no longer deserved to remain there.

That is the responsibility we accepted when we entered this work: not to protect personalities, political parties or institutions, but to serve the people, pursue the truth and demand accountability—no matter who is involved.

We have also made it a priority to shine a light on the unsung heroes and sheroes in our communities—the people who have been doing the work for years, often without recognition, headlines or public praise. By telling their stories, we hope not only to give them the acknowledgment they deserve, but also to encourage and inspire a new generation of truth-tellers, organizers, advocates and activists.

This journey has been a labor of love. At times, it has come without the support of some of the very people we have worked to educate, inform, and uplift. Still, we remain committed because we understand the role Black Westchester plays in our community and throughout the surrounding region.

As we approach our twelfth anniversary and mark the occasion, I remember the final chapter of my first book, “Black Westchester - The Origin Story: And How My Faith Was Instrumental In This Great Experiment.” With the current political climate and attack of the media, I felt it was important to reshare this here and now!

We welcome those who have supported us from the beginning and those who are only now discovering our work. Together, we share the Credo of Black Westchester as we continue carrying forward the proud tradition of the African American newspapers that came before us.

At the request of my sister Nicole, I watched a video of Trevor Noah at the 2022 White House Correspondents' Dinner; she knew it would inspire me. He ended with a challenge to the press.

“As we sit here tonight, people, I really hope you remember what the real purpose of this evening is really about… The reason we’re here is to honor and celebrate the Fourth Estate and what you stand for. An additional check and balance that holds power to account and gives voice to those who otherwise wouldn’t have one. I’m not just talking about the CNNs, Fox, or any other major organizations; I’m talking about everyone, including the local media who are not in this room. Every single one of you, whether you like it or not, is a bastion of democracy. If you ever begin to doubt your responsibilities, if you ever begin to doubt how meaningful it is, look no further than what’s happening in Ukraine. Look what’s happening there. Journalists are risking and even losing their lives to show the world what’s really happening.

You realize how amazing it is? America, you have the right to seek the truth and to speak the truth, even if that makes people in power uncomfortable. Even if it makes your viewers and your readers uncomfortable, you understand how amazing that is? I stood here tonight and made fun of the President of the United States, and I’m going to be fine… Do you understand what a blessing that is? Maybe it’s happened for so long, it might slip your mind. It is a blessing. If fact, ask yourself this question. If Russian journalists who are losing their livelihoods and freedom for daring to report on what their own government is doing, if they had the freedom to write any words, to show any stories, to ask questions? If they basically had what you have, would they be using it the same way you do? Ask yourself that question every day, because you have one of the most important roles in the world.”

My sister, as she so often is, was exactly right. Her words inspired me, and that is why I ended the book—and will end here—by saying this:

Thank you for allowing us to be your purveyors of news and information, the storytellers of our stories, agents of social change, a source of Black American political power, and defenders of our shared values and collective interests.

We understand the responsibility that comes with that role, and we remain committed to working as hard as possible to uphold it. We cannot promise that we will always do the work exactly the way everyone believes we should. We will make mistakes. We will face criticism. We will sometimes take positions that make people uncomfortable. But we can promise that we will always give our best effort, remain true to our mission, and never stop fighting to tell the stories that matter.

We understand the assignment.

No—we overstand the assignment.

And as long as Black Westchester has a voice, we will continue unapologetically delivering The News With The Black Point Of View!

AJ Woodson, Editor-in-Chief of Black Westchester - News With A Black Point Of View. Follow Black Westchester on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn, and Follow People Before Politics Radio on Instagram and Twitter

Eighteen-year-old Nolan Xavier Wells left home on the Fourth of July for what should have been a day of celebration with friends. He traveled by boat to Horn Island, an uninhabited barrier island several miles off the Mississippi Gulf Coast. He never returned.

Nolan was last publicly accounted for on the island during the afternoon of July 4. His mother reported him missing shortly after midnight, and his body was recovered from waters near the island on July 6. Nearly two weeks later, the official cause and manner of his death remain undetermined, with both the government autopsy and an independent examination still pending.

Yet authorities were quick to announce that they did not suspect foul play. That is where much of the distrust begins. The issue is not that investigators considered drowning. Given Horn Island’s location, surrounding currents and the discovery of Nolan’s body near the water, drowning was an obvious possibility that had to be examined. The problem is that authorities appeared to elevate that possibility before publicly demonstrating that they had eliminated the others.

Before the autopsy was completed. Before toxicology results were available. Before the contents of Nolan’s phone had been forensically examined. Before every contradiction in the timeline had been reconciled. And before the public had been told whether all relevant witnesses, boats, phones, videos and location records had been secured. That is not how confidence is built.

The First Failure Was Publicly Narrowing the Case Too Soon

The Jackson County Sheriff’s Department publicly indicated that it had not found evidence of foul play, while the sheriff initially pointed to the absence of obvious homicidal trauma as support for a possible drowning. The coroner, however, declined to speculate, and the official autopsy and toxicology findings had not been released. No visible traumatic injury does not automatically prove an accidental drowning.

A person can be assaulted without sustaining obvious external injuries. A person can enter the water voluntarily, accidentally, or under coercive circumstances. Alcohol, drugs, medical distress, environmental conditions or another person’s actions could all become relevant depending on the medical and forensic evidence.

Investigators should have treated accidental death, misadventure, self-defense, negligence and criminal conduct as open possibilities until the evidence eliminated them. Instead, the public heard “no foul play” while Nolan’s family was still waiting to learn exactly how, when and where their son died. That premature framing created the appearance that authorities had selected an explanation before completing the investigation necessary to prove it.

What Happened Between 3:00 and 4:31 P.M.?

According to the publicly reported timeline, the boat carrying Nolan and his friends reached Horn Island at approximately 11:14 a.m. Nolan was reportedly last seen around 3 p.m., but GPS data indicates the boat did not leave until approximately 4:31 p.m. That leaves roughly 90 minutes requiring a detailed, independently verified account.

Where exactly was Nolan during that period? Who was physically with him? Who spoke to him? Was he seen walking away from the group, returning to the boat, entering the water, or interacting with the young woman mentioned in several accounts? Did anyone photograph or record him after 3 p.m.? Was the 3 p.m. time based on a confirmed image, electronic record, or independent witness—or was it simply the time supplied by the people who returned without him?

Investigators may have asked some of these questions privately. The public does not know because authorities have not provided a sufficiently detailed account of the evidence collected or the timeline they have verified. In a case surrounded by conflicting stories, “last seen around 3 p.m.” is not enough.

Why Did the Boat Leave Without Nolan?

The central account offered by Nolan’s companions is that he voluntarily remained on Horn Island to spend time with a young woman and planned to return later with another group.

Nolan’s parents reject that explanation as inconsistent with his character and the safety rules they had repeatedly taught him: go with a group and return with that group. There have also been differing accounts about what Nolan supposedly communicated before the boat departed. Ben Crump has said the young woman’s account did not match the version attributed to Nolan’s boating companions.

That contradiction should have become one of the investigation’s primary focuses. Did Nolan explicitly tell each friend that he was staying? Did all three hear the same statement? Who was supposed to bring him back? Was that person identified and interviewed? Did Nolan know the individual well enough to depend on that person for transportation from an uninhabited island? Did anyone confirm that another boat had agreed to take responsibility for him?

Leaving someone behind on a remote island is not comparable to leaving a friend at a crowded restaurant or neighborhood party. Horn Island has no roads, residences, or regular transportation. A person left there is entirely dependent on a boat to return. Even assuming Nolan chose to stay, the investigators should establish who accepted responsibility for bringing him home and why no one confirmed that arrangement before his original group departed.

The Distress Call Creates Another Major Contradiction

The group reportedly left because its boat was experiencing serious mechanical trouble and taking on water. In audio released by ABC and reported by WLOX, one of the young men can be heard telling a private towing company, “We’re sinking.”

When the dispatcher asked whether everyone was aboard and in good health, the caller responded that everyone was on board. That statement demands clarification. What did “everyone” mean? Did it mean everyone who had boarded the vessel to leave—or everyone who originally traveled to Horn Island together?

Did the caller inform the towing company that one member of the original group remained behind? Did anyone tell the tow operator, Coast Guard, or law enforcement that Nolan had been left on the island? At what point did the group realize Nolan was not returning as planned? Why did a friend reportedly contact the Coast Guard around 11 p.m., and why did that call not require Coast Guard assistance?

The emergency involving the boat may explain why the group wanted to leave. It does not eliminate the need to explain why Nolan was not aboard and what steps were taken to ensure he had safe transportation.

Nolan’s Phone Should Have Been Secured Immediately

One of the most concerning issues, and the first question I personally had when I heard about this case, involves Nolan’s cellphone. The phone was not found with his body. Nolan’s family used a tracking application to locate it at the home of one of the friends who had returned from Horn Island. According to the family, Nolan was an active Snapchat user, yet there were no visible posts or messages from the approximately 24-hour period before the family recovered the device. The family believes information may have been erased.

At this stage, that allegation has not been proven. But the question is why the phone was not immediately treated as potentially critical evidence. Who handled it after Nolan was last seen? Was it unlocked? Who knew the passcode? Was it used, charged, transported or connected to another device? Were any messages, photographs, videos, location records or social-media activity deleted?

Did law enforcement immediately issue preservation requests to Snapchat, Apple, Google, the cellular provider and any other relevant platform? Was a complete forensic image created before anyone attempted to browse the phone manually?

A phone can contain location history, timestamps, deleted communications, cloud backups, photographs, videos, and records showing when applications were accessed. Every hour that passes before a device is properly preserved can complicate recovery and raise questions about the integrity of the evidence.

Nolan’s family and the district attorney’s office have now agreed to a joint forensic inspection. That cooperation is encouraging, but it also highlights how unusual the earlier handling was. A law professor interviewed by the Associated Press noted that evidence is ordinarily secured by authorities rather than mutually examined with a victim’s family. The phone should not have become a contested piece of evidence nearly two weeks later. It should have been secured at the beginning.

What has never made sense to me is this: we are being told Nolan voluntarily decided to remain behind on a remote island with a young woman and planned to return on another boat, yet the people he arrived with somehow left carrying his cellphone—his primary means of contacting them, his family, or anyone else if the plan changed or an emergency occurred. Then, after returning to the mainland without him, the phone was reportedly not immediately turned over to his family or secured by law enforcement as potential evidence. Even without accusing anyone of a crime, that sequence of events raises obvious questions. Who took possession of the phone? Why did Nolan supposedly stay behind without it? When did his friends realize they had it? Why was it not surrendered immediately? And why did no one appear alarmed that their friend had been left miles offshore with no reliable way to communicate? The math simply is not mathing, and those inconsistencies deserved serious investigation from the very beginning.

Were the Friends’ Phones and the Boat Preserved?

Nolan’s phone is not the only device that could contain evidence. Were the phones belonging to every person who traveled with him collected or forensically preserved? Did investigators obtain their location history, photographs, text messages, calls, deleted files and social-media communications? Were they interviewed separately before they had an opportunity to compare accounts? Were their complete statements recorded?

Was the boat photographed, processed and inspected before being moved or cleaned? Were its GPS, navigation records and onboard electronics downloaded? Was evidence collected showing where each passenger sat, where Nolan’s belongings were stored and who had possession of them?

Publicly reported GPS information indicates that the vessel left Horn Island at 4:31 p.m., traveled into Fort Bayou and was later removed from the water and taken over land to its owner’s home. That makes the boat part of the timeline and potentially part of the evidence. The public has not been told whether it was promptly secured and processed.

The Judge’s Family Connection Required Greater Independence

Jackson County Chancery Judge Ashlee Cole is the stepmother of one of the young men who traveled with Nolan. Cole has said that her stepson cooperated with investigators and that Nolan chose to remain on the island. She and her family have also reported receiving disturbing threats, conduct that is wrong, dangerous, and potentially harmful to the search for truth.

There is no publicly established evidence that Judge Cole interfered with the investigation. Her position, however, creates an unavoidable appearance issue. When a member of a sitting local judge’s family is a material witness in a death investigation, authorities should take extraordinary steps to demonstrate independence. That could include immediately bringing in an outside investigative agency, establishing a documented firewall, and publicly explaining which officials have no professional relationship with the judge.

The question is not whether a judge’s relative should be presumed guilty. He should not. The question is whether the public can reasonably trust an investigation conducted inside a local system in which one witness’s family holds judicial power. Independent oversight protects Nolan’s family, the witnesses, and the integrity of the investigation itself.

The Viral Video Shows Why Transparency Matters

A video circulated online that some people believed captured Nolan demanding the return of his phone during a confrontation. Crump initially said multiple people had identified Nolan’s voice. A friend, Tracestin Shepherd, later publicly stated that the voice was his, not Nolan’s. Authorities have not confirmed that the video depicts Nolan or a confrontation involving him. Another widely circulated photograph was also reportedly taken before July 4, not after Nolan disappeared. These developments matter because unverified social-media theories should not be treated as facts.

But they also illustrate the vacuum created when authorities provide too little verified information. When the official timeline is incomplete, the public begins constructing one from clips, screenshots, rumors and anonymous posts. Law enforcement should have moved quickly to authenticate or disprove the video, identify every visible person, secure the original file and explain whether it had any connection to Nolan.

Silence does not stop speculation. It feeds it. At the same time, threats, harassment and online declarations of guilt must be rejected. Witness intimidation makes people less likely to cooperate and can contaminate a legitimate investigation. Justice requires evidence—not a social-media mob.

What Does the Medical Evidence Show?

The most important questions may ultimately be answered by the autopsies. Was Nolan alive when he entered the water? Was water found in his lungs? Were there internal injuries not visible externally? Were there signs of restraint, struggle, exposure, intoxication, or incapacitation? What did toxicology testing reveal? Could medical examiners estimate when he died?

Are the condition and location of his body consistent with the currents and the reported time he disappeared? Could his body have traveled from another part of the island? Those conclusions must come from qualified forensic professionals—not the sheriff, social media, or public relations statements.

Nolan’s family commissioned an independent examination in Washington, D.C., by a pathologist with no ties to Mississippi law enforcement. Colin Kaepernick paid for that examination through his support of independent autopsy work. The need for a second autopsy reflects the depth of the family’s distrust.

A Grand Jury Is a Step—Not a Substitute for a Thorough Investigation

Following a meeting with District Attorney Angel Myers McIlrath, Crump said the completed case would be presented to a grand jury. The district attorney’s office and the family’s experts also plan to cooperate in examining Nolan’s phone.

A grand-jury presentation may provide another level of review, but it does not automatically guarantee independence or prove that a crime occurred. The quality of that process will depend entirely on the quality of the evidence presented. Will every relevant witness testify? Will conflicting statements be placed before jurors? Will digital-forensic experts explain the cellphone evidence? Will both autopsies be presented? Will investigators disclose evidence that supports accidental drowning as well as evidence that challenges it? Will the grand jury hear about the boat emergency, the GPS timeline, and the statement that “everyone” was aboard? A grand jury cannot consider evidence that investigators failed to secure.

If Horn Island Is Federal Land, Why Wasn’t This a Federal Investigation from Day One?

That is a legitimate question, but the legal answer is more complicated than simply saying the island belongs to the federal government. Horn Island is part of Gulf Islands National Seashore and is administered by the National Park Service. Federal law specifically transferred Horn Island into the national seashore, and the NPS identifies it as protected federal wilderness.

However, an incident occurring on federal property does not automatically require the FBI to take complete control. The National Park Service has its own federal law-enforcement officers and an Investigative Services Branch whose special agents investigate violent crimes, missing-person cases, and other complex incidents throughout the National Park System. The Justice Department also acknowledges that while the FBI has broad authority over crimes involving federal property, other federal agencies may have more specific investigative responsibility.

Jurisdiction may also depend on exactly where the relevant conduct occurred. Nolan disappeared after being seen on Horn Island, but his body was reportedly recovered off the island. Investigators have not publicly established where he entered the water, where he died, or whether any potential criminal act occurred on the federally administered island, aboard a private vessel, or in waters subject to Mississippi’s jurisdiction. Federal criminal law distinguishes federal land from waters that may remain within a state’s jurisdiction, making the precise location critically important.

That may explain why the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department initially assumed the lead. It does not explain why the public has heard so little about the involvement of federal park authorities. Were National Park Service law-enforcement rangers immediately notified that a young man had disappeared from federally administered property? Did the NPS Investigative Services Branch participate in interviewing witnesses, securing digital evidence, or examining the location where Nolan was last seen? Did the U.S. Attorney’s Office evaluate whether federal territorial, maritime, or civil-rights jurisdiction applied? Who officially decided that the sheriff’s department would lead the death investigation, and what facts supported that decision? Was the FBI asked to assist with Nolan’s disappearance and death before it became involved with the reported threats? Those are questions authorities should answer directly.

The FBI could not necessarily walk in and “take over” without a federal jurisdictional basis, evidence of a federal crime or an agreement among the investigating agencies. But federal ownership of Horn Island should have triggered an immediate and transparent jurisdictional review involving the National Park Service, federal prosecutors and, where appropriate, the FBI. The strongest question may therefore be broader than why the FBI did not immediately take over:

Why was a disappearance originating on federal parkland apparently allowed to remain primarily a local investigation without authorities publicly explaining the role—or absence—of the National Park Service’s own federal investigators?

The public deserves to know which agencies were notified, when they became involved, what authority each agency exercised, and why the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department remained in control. Simply saying “the FBI is involved” because agents are examining threats does not answer whether federal authorities are independently scrutinizing what happened to Nolan Wells.

The FBI’s Role Must Also Be Clearly Explained

The FBI is reportedly assisting local authorities with threats made against people connected to the case, while the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department remains the lead agency investigating Nolan’s death. That is different from the FBI taking over the death investigation itself. Authorities should clearly state whether federal agents are examining only threats or are also reviewing potential civil-rights, digital or interstate aspects of Nolan’s death. The phrase “the FBI is involved” can create a false impression that federal investigators have assumed control. The public deserves a precise explanation.

Nolan Xavier Wells’ Family Join Attorney Ben Crump and Rev. Al Sharpton in Demanding a Full, Transparent Investigation

The family of Nolan Xavier Wells stood alongside nationally renowned civil rights attorney Ben Crump and Reverend Al Sharpton at the National Action Network’s House of Justice in Harlem on Friday, July 10th, demanding a full, transparent and urgent investigation into the 18-year-old’s death. The family also called for the timely release of all investigative records, medical findings, and evidence connected to the case.

Their message was clear: Nolan’s death cannot be explained away by assumptions, incomplete timelines, or premature declarations that foul play was not suspected. His family deserves to know why he was allegedly left behind on a remote island, how his friends returned with his cellphone and keys, what happened during the unaccounted-for period before the boat departed, and whether every potential piece of physical, digital and witness evidence was properly secured.

The presence of Crump and Sharpton brought national attention to a case Nolan’s family fears could otherwise be quietly classified as an accidental drowning before all the facts are known. Sharpton, Crump and the Wells family emphasized that they are not asking authorities to reach a predetermined conclusion—they are demanding that investigators follow the evidence wherever it leads and provide the transparency necessary to restore public trust.

For Nolan’s parents, this is not about publicity or politics. It is about their 18-year-old son leaving for a Fourth of July trip with friends and never coming home. Until every contradiction is confronted, every device is examined, every witness is thoroughly questioned, and every investigative finding is released, their demand will remain the same: Tell the truth about what happened to Nolan Xavier Wells.

The Greatest Failure Is the Loss of Trust

No publicly available evidence currently proves that Nolan Wells was murdered. But no completed autopsy has publicly proven that his death was an accident, either. That distinction matters.

Nolan’s family is not asking investigators to manufacture a crime. They are asking them not to dismiss one before every relevant fact has been collected, tested, and independently reviewed.

Mississippi’s history of racial violence does not prove what happened on Horn Island. It does explain why the family of a young Black man may be unwilling to accept assurances unsupported by transparent evidence. Nolan traveled to a gathering where, according to his family’s attorneys, he was among very few Black attendees. He returned in a body bag while the people who went with him returned with his keys and cellphone. That alone demanded the highest level of care, independence and transparency.

The greatest apparent failure so far is not necessarily proof of a conspiracy. It is that authorities allowed the investigation to appear settled before the evidence was complete. They announced that foul play was not suspected while critical medical findings remained pending, the phone had not been fully examined, and the central timeline still contained unanswered questions.

Nolan Xavier Wells was a son, a student-athlete, and an 18-year-old with his entire future ahead of him. His family should not have to conduct its own investigation, finance a second autopsy and fight for access to answers that a thorough official inquiry should have pursued from the beginning. The public does not need rumors. The family does not need another theory.

They need every witness questioned, every device preserved, every contradiction confronted and every conclusion supported by evidence. Until that happens, the question will not disappear:

What happened to Nolan Wells—and why did the people responsible for finding the truth appear so certain before they had all the facts?

Editor’s note: This investigation remains active as of July 16, 2026. Allegations concerning deleted data, conflicting statements, and possible foul play have not been proven in court. No person accompanying Nolan has been charged with a crime.

AJ Woodson is the Editor-In-Chief and co-owner of Black Westchester, Host & Producer of the People Before Politics Radio Show, An Author, Journalism Fellow (Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism), Rap Artist - one third of the legendary underground rap group JVC FORCE known for the single Strong Island, Radio Personality, Hip-Hop Historian, Documentarian, Activist, Criminal Justice Advocate and Freelance Journalist whose byline has appeared in several print publications and online sites including The Source, Vibe, the Village Voice, Upscale, Sonicnet.com, Launch.com, Rolling Out Newspaper, Daily Challenge Newspaper, Spiritual Minded Magazine, Word Up! Magazine, On The Go Magazine, and several others. Follow me at Blue Sky, Spoutible, Twitter (X), Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, YouTube, and TikTok.

The celebration for Jalen Brunson and the New York Knicks continued at the 2026 ESPY Awards on Wednesday, July 15, 2026, at the David H. Koch Theater at Lincoln Center in New York City!

After leading the New York Knicks to the 2026 NBA Championship and capturing the Emirates NBA Cup, Eastern Conference Finals MVP and NBA Finals MVP honors, Jalen Brunson capped off his historic season with a clean sweep at the 2026 ESPY Awards. The Knicks captain won Best Athlete in Men’s Sports, Best NBA Player, and Best Championship Performance. Brunson also added another memorable moment to his remarkable year by winning the NBA All-Star Shooting Stars competition alongside Karl-Anthony Towns, Knicks legend Allan Houston, and his father, Rick Brunson.

Captain Clutch Sweeps the ESPYs

After everything Jalen Brunson accomplished during the 2025-26 season, it should not have surprised anyone that he entered the ESPYs as one of the biggest names in sports. But winning all three of his individual categories was still an extraordinary achievement.

Brunson defeated soccer legend Lionel Messi, Los Angeles Dodgers superstar Shohei Ohtani and NFL MVP Matthew Stafford to win Best Athlete in Men’s Sports. He then defeated Shai Gilgeous-Alexander, Nikola Jokić and Victor Wembanyama to win Best NBA Player. He completed the sweep by capturing Best Championship Performance.

Think about the company Brunson was in for a moment.

Messi is considered one of the greatest soccer players who ever lived. Ohtani has changed what many people believed was possible in modern baseball. Stafford reached the top of the NFL. Jokić, Gilgeous-Alexander and Wembanyama represent three of the most dominant and talented players in basketball.

Yet when the votes were counted, it was Jalen Brunson—the six-foot-two point guard, who was selected with the 33rd pick in the 2018 NBA Draft—standing above them all. That is how special his season was.

When Brunson accepted the Best Athlete in Men’s Sports award, he thanked the fans, his family, his teammates, and everyone who continued to believe in him. He described the year as an incredible run, but even that description may not fully capture everything he accomplished. Brunson did not merely have a good season. He constructed a legacy.

One Historic Achievement After Another

Brunson’s remarkable run began well before the Knicks lifted the Larry O’Brien Trophy. In December, he led New York to a win over the San Antonio Spurs to capture the 2025 Emirates NBA Cup. Brunson finished the championship game with 25 points and eight assists and was named NBA Cup MVP. The Knicks became the first franchise to win both the NBA Cup and an NBA championship.

At NBA All-Star Weekend, Team Knicks—featuring Brunson, Karl-Anthony Towns, Knicks legend Allan Houston and Rick Brunson serving as the team’s passer—won the revived Kia Shooting Stars competition. Team Knicks scored 47 points in the final round to secure another victory for the orange and blue.

When the playoffs arrived, Brunson elevated his game again. He led the Knicks through the Eastern Conference and was unanimously selected as the Eastern Conference Finals MVP after New York swept the Cleveland Cavaliers. Brunson averaged 25.5 points and 7.8 assists during the series, helping send the Knicks to the NBA Finals for the first time since 1999.

Then came the NBA Finals. Brunson averaged 32.6 points per game against the San Antonio Spurs and repeatedly delivered when the Knicks needed him most. In the championship-clinching Game 5, he scored a Knicks Finals-record 45 points—including 15 in the fourth quarter—as New York defeated San Antonio 94-90 to win the series in five games.

He finished the season with the NBA Cup, NBA Cup MVP, Eastern Conference Finals MVP, NBA Finals MVP, an NBA championship, and three ESPY Awards.

That is not simply a great season. That is one of the most decorated individual seasons any New York athlete has ever produced. There is a reason Knicks fans call him Captain Clutch. Every time the lights grew brighter, the pressure grew heavier and the moment grew bigger; Brunson appeared calmer. He did not run from the responsibility of leading the Knicks. He embraced it.

OG Anunoby Wins Best Play

While Brunson collected three individual awards, OG Anunoby received his own well-deserved recognition.

Anunoby won the ESPY for Best Play for the game-winning tip-in that completed the Knicks’ historic comeback in Game 4 of the NBA Finals.

New York had fallen behind the Spurs by 29 points during the third quarter at Madison Square Garden. In almost any other game, against almost any other opponent, the deficit would have been considered insurmountable. But these Knicks had spent the entire season showing that they were never truly out of a game.

With the Knicks trailing in the final seconds, Anunoby first helped disrupt De’Aaron Fox’s attempt at the basket. On the other end, Brunson launched a three-pointer that hit the front of the rim. Anunoby slipped between two defenders, reached above the crowd and softly tipped the ball through the basket with 1.2 seconds remaining.

The shot gave the Knicks a 107-106 victory and completed the largest comeback in NBA Finals history. It also gave New York a commanding 3-1 series lead.

That one play captured everything OG represented throughout the Knicks’ championship season. Defense. Strength. Timing. Intelligence. Effort. Sacrifice.

Anunoby did not demand the spotlight, but he repeatedly made plays that determined whether the Knicks won or lost. While Brunson was the unquestioned leader and offensive engine, OG was the silent force who could guard the opponent’s best player, hit a critical three-pointer, create a turnover, or grab the biggest offensive rebound of the season. That is why he is known as The Silent King. He does not have to say much because his game speaks loudly enough.

During his ESPY acceptance speech, Anunoby thanked the Knicks organization, his teammates, God and the New York fans. He called winning a championship for the city special before ending with a simple message: “Go Knicks.”

In true OG fashion, even his acceptance speech became memorable. The 6-foot-7 forward had to widen his stance to reach a microphone positioned too low, causing Brunson, his teammates and the audience to burst into laughter. It was a lighthearted moment, but the award itself represented something much bigger.

The basketball world finally recognized what Knicks fans had understood all season: OG Anunoby’s value cannot always be measured by points, statistics or highlight reels. He is a winner.

The Knicks Are Named Best Team

The night concluded with the Knicks receiving the ultimate team honor.

New York was named Best Team after a season in which it won the NBA Cup, captured the Eastern Conference championship and defeated the Spurs in five games to win the franchise’s first NBA title since 1973.

Brunson was joined onstage by OG Anunoby, Karl-Anthony Towns, Mikal Bridges, Tyler Kolek, Leon Rose, Miles “Deuce” McBride, Jose Alverado, Jordan Clarkson, Trey Jemison III, and his dad Rick as the Knicks accepted the award for Best Team. Knicks superfan and Bronx Hip-Hop legend Fat Joe also joined the celebration, turning the moment into a full-blown New York party as he performed a verse from his hit anthem, “All the Way Up”—a fitting soundtrack for a Knicks team that had climbed all the way to the top of the basketball world.

Josh Hart was noticeably absent, leading Brunson to joke that the ESPYs had pulled Hart’s invitation. It was another example of the chemistry and brotherhood that helped carry this team through the difficult portions of the season.

Towns used the moment to credit the love between the players and the support of New York fans for helping the team survive its struggles and ultimately win the championship. That message should not be overlooked. This Knicks championship was not the work of one man.

Brunson was the leader. Anunoby made one of the biggest plays in franchise history. Towns gave the Knicks another All-Star scorer and rebounder. Bridges provided elite defense and timely shooting. Hart supplied energy, rebounding and heart. McBride, Mitchell Robinson, Landry Shamet, José Alvarado and the rest of the rotation accepted their roles and delivered when their numbers were called. Coach Mike Brown brought the pieces together and helped transform the Knicks from a contender into a champion. The Best Team award belonged to all of them.

The moment was made even more special when Simone Biles—the most decorated gymnast in history, with 11 Olympic medals and 30 World Championship medals—opened the envelope and announced, “And the ESPY goes to…the New York Knicks!” For Knicks fans who had waited 53 years to see their team return to the top of the basketball world, hearing those words was the perfect conclusion to a truly historic season.

More Than an Awards-Show Sweep

For generations of Knicks fans, the 2025-26 season will never be remembered as just another basketball season. It was the year the drought ended! It was the year Madison Square Garden became the center of the basketball universe again! It was the year the Knicks won the NBA Cup, survived historic comebacks, swept the Eastern Conference Finals, and defeated a talented Spurs team to become NBA champions! It was the year Jalen Brunson officially entered the conversation among the greatest Knicks ever! It was the year OG Anunoby made a play that will be replayed at Madison Square Garden for decades! And it was the year New York basketball returned to the top of the sports world!

The ESPY Awards did not create that history. Brunson, OG and the Knicks created it on the basketball court. The awards simply confirmed what New York already knew. Jalen Brunson was the best championship performer, the best NBA player and the best male athlete in sports. OG Anunoby delivered the best play. And the New York Knicks were the best team.

After waiting 53 years for another championship, Knicks fans deserved every parade, every celebration, every award and every moment that followed. The season may officially be over, but the celebration continues. The banners will hang forever. The trophies will remain in the display case. And the 2025-26 New York Knicks will always be remembered as the team that finally brought championship basketball back to New York City. The Knicks did not just own the NBA in 2026. For one unforgettable night at the ESPYs, they owned the entire sports world.

A'ja Wilson joins Jalen Brunson As Top Awards Winners at 2026 ESPYS

The 2026 ESPYS, presented by Capital One, celebrated the greatest athletes, teams and unforgettable moments from across the sports world. While Jalen Brunson walked away with an armful of trophies Wednesday night, it was also a golden evening for basketball. Las Vegas Aces superstar A’ja Wilson added two more honors to her historic résumé, winning Best Athlete in Women’s Sports for the second time and capturing the award for Best WNBA Player.

A’ja Wilson has built one of the most accomplished résumés in basketball history. She won her first WNBA MVP award with the Las Vegas Aces in 2020 and captured the honor again in 2022, 2024 and 2025. In 2022, Wilson helped lead the Aces to the first championship in franchise history, then repeated as a champion in 2023 while earning WNBA Finals MVP honors. On July 7, 2024, during a matchup against the Dallas Wings, she became the Aces’ all-time leading scorer.

Wilson reached another historic level in 2025, leading Las Vegas to its third championship while becoming the first player in NBA or WNBA history to win a scoring title, regular-season MVP, Defensive Player of the Year, a league championship and Finals MVP in the same season. Widely regarded as the greatest female basketball player of her generation, Wilson has already established herself as one of the greatest players in WNBA history.

Full list of ESPYS 2026 Award Winners

Simone Biles, Jalen Brunson, Ciara, Stephen Curry, Kevin Durant, Will Ferrell, Megan Grant, Tiffany Haddish, Kevin Hart, Hannah Hidalgo, DJ Khaled, Suni Lee, Alysa Liu, Mikaela Shiffrin, Jayson Tatum, Mike Tyson & More Among This Year’s Presenters & Attendees

Best Championship Performance: Jalen Brunson, New York Knicks

Best Breakthrough Athlete: Alysa Liu, U.S. figure skating

Muhammad Ali Sports Humanitarian Award: Stephen Curry, Golden State Warriors

Best College Athlete - Men’s Sports: Fernando Mendoza, Indiana football

Best College Athlete - Women’s Sports: Lauren Betts, UCLA women’s basketball

Jimmy V Award for Perseverance: Jim Abbott

Best Single-Game Performance: Shohei Ohtani, Los Angeles Dodgers

Best Play: OG Anunoby, New York Knicks

Pat Tillman Award for Service: Scott Ruskan, U.S. Coast Guard rescue swimmer

Best Record-Breaking Performance: Myles Garrett, Los Angeles Rams

Best WNBA Player: A’ja Wilson, Las Vegas Aces

Best NBA Player: Jalen Brunson

Gatorade Players of the Year: Maddie DiMaria and Grady Emerson

Billie Jean King Youth Leadership Award: Kelis Armstrong, Julia Howe and Samuel Phillips

Arthur Ashe Courage Award: Jason Collins

Best Athlete - Men’s Sports: Jalen Brunson, New York Knicks

Best Athlete - Women’s Sports: A’ja Wilson, Las Vegas Aces

Best Team: New York Knicks

Best Comeback Athlete: Christian McCaffrey, San Francisco 49ers

Best Athlete with a Disability: Declan Farmer, Paralympic hockey

Best NFL Player: Myles Garrett

Best MLB Player: Shohei Ohtani

Best NHL Player: Connor McDavid, Edmonton Oilers

Best Driver: Lando Norris, F1

Best Fighter: Terence Crawford, Boxing

Best Soccer Player: Lionel Messi, Inter Miami CF

Best Golfer: Scottie Scheffler

Best Tennis Player: Carlos Alcaraz

What made this season truly special was not simply the trophies, the headlines or the national recognition—it was the restoration of belief. The Knicks reminded an entire city what it feels like to trust, to hope, and to stand together behind a team that represented New York with toughness, sacrifice, and pride. Long after the applause fades and the cameras move on, that feeling will remain. This team did more than make history—it gave a generation of Knicks fans a memory they will carry for the rest of their lives.

“Dear Witnesses, including you, Eddie/ The truth in your chest gotta feel real heavy/ You were there, you know what you seen,/ But fear got y’all moving like truth ain’t clean…”

Sometimes music does more than entertain us. Sometimes it forces us to revisit an uncomfortable moment, examine what we thought we knew, and ask questions that many people would rather leave buried.

The new Both Sides Fair Media AI-created music video “Dear Witnesses — Including You Eddie! Both Sides” does exactly that.

The song speaks directly to the young people who were present during the fatal confrontation between Karmelo Anthony and Austin Metcalf. Its central question is simple but powerful: What if it was you?

What if your entire future depended on whether the people standing nearby accurately remembered what happened? What if the difference between freedom and decades behind bars rested on whether witnesses told everything they saw—not just the parts that supported their friends, their teammates, or the side they had chosen?

That question does not erase the tragedy of Austin Metcalf’s death. It does not minimize the unimaginable grief his parents, twin brother, teammates and loved ones continue to carry. A 17-year-old young man lost his life. Nothing written here should take away from that devastating reality.

But another young man, Karmelo Anthony, was convicted of murder on June 9, 2026, and sentenced to 35 years in prison after a jury rejected his claim that he acted in self-defense. Anthony was 17 when the fatal confrontation occurred during an April 2, 2025, high school track meet in Frisco, Texas. A verdict, however, does not mean that every legitimate question surrounding a case suddenly disappears.

For those who may not be familiar with the case, Karmelo Anthony and Austin Metcalf were both 17-year-old student-athletes attending a high school track meet in Frisco, Texas, on April 2, 2025. The meet had been delayed by severe weather when Anthony took shelter beneath a tent designated for athletes from Metcalf’s school. A verbal confrontation followed after Anthony was told to leave the area. Witnesses testified that Metcalf eventually pushed Anthony, who then pulled out a knife and stabbed Metcalf once in the chest. Metcalf died from the wound.

Anthony admitted that he stabbed Metcalf but maintained that he acted in self-defense after being physically confronted. Prosecutors argued that Anthony provoked the dispute and used deadly force in response to a situation that did not justify it. The case quickly attracted national attention, fueled by conflicting accounts of the confrontation, heated debates over self-defense, and the fact that Anthony is Black while Metcalf was white.

On June 9, 2026, a Collin County jury found Anthony guilty of murder. He was subsequently sentenced to 35 years in prison. His attorneys are now seeking a new trial, arguing that mistakes made during the proceedings prevented him from receiving a fair trial. Prosecutors maintain that the case was handled properly and that the jury reached its decision after hearing the evidence from both sides.

One of the most important questions raised by the video concerns how Karmelo Anthony came to be under the Memorial High School team’s tent.

The prosecution presented Anthony as an outsider who entered another school’s designated area, refused repeated instructions to leave, and provoked the confrontation that followed.

Eddie Parra, a Memorial athlete who knew Anthony, testified that Anthony was already beneath the tent when he noticed him. Parra said he greeted Anthony but described him as merely “someone I knew,” rather than a close friend. He also testified that he thought Anthony’s presence was unusual because athletes were expected to remain with their own teams.

During cross-examination, however, jurors were shown photographs establishing that Parra and Anthony had spent time together on multiple occasions during the weeks before the stabbing. Parra acknowledged that they had gotten together at least three times, although he said Anthony’s girlfriend—whom they both knew—was usually present.

Then another Memorial student provided an account that raised an additional question.

That student said that during an earlier police interview, he reported seeing Parra call Anthony over to the tent. According to the student’s statement, Parra and Anthony greeted each other, Anthony sat down, and the two began talking. That is not a minor detail.

There is an important difference between deliberately invading another team’s space and being called over by someone you know. Being invited beneath the tent would not automatically justify everything Anthony subsequently said or did. It would not, by itself, establish self-defense. But it could change how the beginning of the confrontation is understood.

It could challenge the image of Anthony as a complete stranger who entered the area for no legitimate reason. It could also explain why Parra initially did not object to his presence or intervene when other teammates began questioning why Anthony was there. When defense attorneys asked Parra why he had not spoken up as his teammates confronted Anthony, he responded that he did not feel the need to do so.

The question becomes: Why not?

Was it because Anthony had been welcomed there? Was it because the two young men knew each other better than Parra wanted to acknowledge in court? Or was it simply because Parra did not believe the situation would escalate into violence?

Those are questions only the witnesses can fully answer.

Who Initiated the Physical Contact?

Witnesses testified that the verbal confrontation lasted several minutes. They described Anthony refusing to leave, making provocative comments, and placing his hand inside his bag. According to testimony, Metcalf eventually pushed Anthony, and Anthony responded by pulling a knife and stabbing him once in the chest.

The prosecution argued that Anthony provoked the physical contact and then responded to a shove with deadly force. The defense argued that Metcalf had no legal right to place his hands on Anthony and that Anthony reacted during a sudden, chaotic confrontation with a larger athlete.

The jury heard those competing narratives and rejected the self-defense claim.

But the video asks viewers to look beyond the simplified online arguments that often begin with the knife while ignoring everything that happened before it appeared.

Who surrounded whom?

How many athletes were confronting Anthony?

What words were exchanged?

Did Anthony reasonably believe that he was about to be attacked by more than one person?

Was Metcalf attempting to escort Anthony away, or was he physically escalating an already heated confrontation?

And did every witness describe those moments the same way immediately after the incident as they did more than a year later in court?

None of these questions excuses the taking of a life. They are questions about whether the complete context was presented and fairly considered.

Witnesses Carry a Heavy Responsibility

Witnesses in a murder trial are not spectators at a sporting event choosing which team they want to win. They carry an enormous responsibility.

Their memories, words and omissions can influence whether someone goes home or spends most of his adult life behind bars. Loyalty to a friend cannot replace loyalty to the truth. Anger, grief and fear cannot be allowed to reshape what actually occurred.

Parra became emotional while describing the stabbing and acknowledged that he was angry with Anthony because of Austin’s death. That emotional reaction is understandable. He watched a teammate suffer a fatal wound and saw the devastating aftermath firsthand.

But acknowledging that trauma does not mean the differences between various witness accounts should be ignored. A witness can be heartbroken and still mistaken. A witness can sincerely believe one person was wrong while remembering certain details differently from another person. A witness can also feel pressure—from teammates, adults, public opinion, or the emotional weight of a tragedy—to describe events in a way that protects the people with whom he identifies. That is precisely why cross-examination exists and why conflicting statements matter.

Justice Cannot Become a Popularity Contest

From the beginning, the deaths of Austin Metcalf and the prosecution of Karmelo Anthony were turned into ammunition for a larger racial and political battle.

Anthony is Black. Metcalf was white.

Despite both legal teams and Metcalf’s father saying that the confrontation was not about race, racial extremists and online commentators repeatedly used the tragedy to promote their own agendas.

The racial composition of Anthony’s jury also generated concern. No Black jurors served on the 12-person panel after the remaining Black prospective jurors were removed during jury selection. The prosecution said those removals were based on race-neutral reasons, while the defense unsuccessfully challenged them.

These facts do not automatically prove that Anthony was denied justice. But they help explain why many people remain concerned about whether race, public pressure, and the intense media environment affected how the case was perceived.

Justice cannot depend on which teenager social media finds more sympathetic.

It cannot become a competition between hashtags.

Austin Metcalf deserves justice.

Karmelo Anthony deserves a fair legal process.

Those two statements are not opposites.

Two things can be true at the same time!

The Fight Is Not Over

Anthony’s new legal team has requested another trial and asked that Judge John Roach Jr. be removed from deciding the post-trial motions.

The defense claims Anthony was improperly discouraged from testifying, that restrictions on public and media access violated his constitutional right to a public trial, and that errors involving the jury instructions damaged his self-defense argument. The defense also alleges that prosecutors violated an informal agreement concerning character evidence.

Prosecutors dispute those claims, maintain that the trial was handled ethically, and say the jury reached its verdict after hearing extensive evidence.

Those allegations have not yet resulted in the conviction being overturned. Anthony remains convicted and is pursuing his legal challenges through the courts.

The appellate process now has the responsibility to examine the record—not the hashtags, not the racial rhetoric and not the social-media popularity of either side.

Dear Witnesses

The song’s message is not simply an attack on Eddie Parra or the other teenagers who testified. It is a call to conscience. It is asking every witness to think beyond the moment, beyond loyalty and beyond the pressure to protect one side.

Did you tell everything?

Did you leave something out?

Did your testimony change?

Did you allow anger or grief to influence how you described what happened?

Did you remain silent when someone else presented a version of events that you knew was incomplete?

And most importantly:

What if it was you?

What if you were facing 35 years in prison?

What if it were your child sitting at the defense table?

What if your family’s only hope rested on a witness finding the courage to tell the complete truth—even if that truth made friends, teammates or the public uncomfortable?

Two families were forever changed beneath that tent.

One family buried a son.

Another family watched a son led away to prison.

Nothing can bring Austin Metcalf back. Nothing can erase the decision Karmelo Anthony made when he pulled that knife. But justice demands more than grief, outrage, and choosing sides.

Justice requires that every witness tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Because when a person’s life and freedom are hanging in the balance, silence is not neutral. Contradictions are not insignificant. And the truth should never be sacrificed simply because it complicates the story people have already decided to believe.

Watch “Dear Witnesses — Including You Eddie! Both Sides” below and ask yourself the question the song refuses to let us ignore:

What if it was you?

Nearly 30 years after I first asked the question in On The Go Magazine, Hip-Hop’s lyrical battlefield is still alive—but the rules, stages and meaning of competition have changed.

Back in 1997, I wrote an article for On The Go Magazine titled “Whatever Happened to Battles???” It explored beefs and battles throughout Hip-Hop. At the time, I was watching Hip-Hop move further away from one of the elements that once separated a real emcee from somebody who could simply make a record.

In the era I came from, an emcee had to be ready. You could not hide behind a hot producer, a catchy hook, a major-label marketing budget or a carefully constructed social-media image. When another emcee challenged you, you had to defend your name, your crew and your reputation. Whether it happened on a stage, inside a club, in a park, at a neighborhood jam, a schoolyard or during a cypher, there was no editing and no second take. You either had the skills to survive or everybody present knew you had lost.

Back then, you had to prove you could rock a crowd before you earned the privilege of making a record. Too many artists today treat recording music like a birthright without first putting in the work to master the craft. They are more focused on making money—and let me be clear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with getting paid—than creating quality music, sharpening their skills and becoming a truly dope emcee. The money should come from mastering the craft, not replace the responsibility of learning it.

Nearly three decades later, I find myself revisiting the ‘97 On The Go Magazine article, Whatever happened to battles? But today, the question runs even deeper—whatever happened to real lyricism? What happened to the wordplay, storytelling, clever punchlines, sharp delivery, and hunger that once separated a true emcee from someone who simply knew how to make a popular record?

Another major reason traditional battling and elite lyricism moved away from the center of Hip-Hop was the changing music industry. There was a time when being recognized as a great emcee meant proving you could write, freestyle, tell stories, control a crowd, and stand across from another emcee without getting embarrassed. As Hip-Hop became more profitable, however, record companies became increasingly focused on what could be marketed quickly: catchy hooks, simple concepts, memorable dances, recognizable images, and songs that could immediately connect with radio and club audiences.

That does not mean popular rap cannot be lyrical. Some of Hip-Hop’s greatest lyricists have also created massive hit records. The problem came when commercial success stopped requiring strong lyrical ability. Labels discovered they could sell an artist’s personality, lifestyle, controversy, or social-media following without that artist ever proving they could truly rhyme. The question was no longer always, “Who is the nicest emcee?” It became, “Who has the biggest record, the most followers or the most marketable image?”

As the business grew, many artists were encouraged to simplify their music. Complicated verses were viewed as less accessible. Long stories were replaced by short phrases. Three full verses became two verses and an oversized hook. In the streaming era, artists are often pressured to grab listeners within the first few seconds because audiences can skip to another song almost instantly. That environment rewards immediacy, repetition and familiarity more than patience, complexity and lyrical depth.

The industry did not destroy lyricism, but it helped push it away from the mainstream spotlight. The most skilled emcee was no longer guaranteed to receive the largest budget, the strongest promotion or the biggest platform. Meanwhile, rappers who might not have survived one round in a neighborhood cypher could become stars through marketing, production and carefully constructed images.

Battling became part of the emcee’s mentality. Even when artists were not standing face-to-face with an opponent, emcees like KRS-One wrote as though somebody was coming for the crown. Braggadocio, competitive rhymes and declarations of lyrical superiority became essential ingredients in Hip-Hop.

Kool Moe Dee’s legendary takedown of Busy Bee Starski at Harlem World club in Manhattan on December 24, 1981, was one of the earliest moments that proved an emcee could not survive on crowd participation and party rhymes alone. Kool Moe Dee lyrically dismantled Busy Bee in front of the audience and helped raise the standard for what it meant to truly battle.

Then there was the infamous Cold Crush Brothers versus Force MCs (later known as the Force MDs) in Paterson, New Jersey, on April 30, 1983—a battle that went “viral” long before social media existed. Copies of the performance were recorded, duplicated, and passed from hand to hand on cassette tapes, spreading through neighborhoods and Hip-Hop circles across the country. Those battles became part of the culture’s oral history because the skills, reputations, and pride of the emcees were on the line—and the streets decided who won. There was also the Cold Crush Brothers/Fantastic Five battle and countless others.

Then came the Roxanne Wars, one of Hip-Hop’s earliest and most influential battles on wax. After U.T.F.O. released “Roxanne, Roxanne,” in 1985, a 14-year-old Roxanne Shanté answered with “Roxanne’s Revenge,” turning a response record into a cultural phenomenon. Her fearless freestyle opened the floodgates for dozens of answer records, including “The Real Roxanne” and the first female battle rapper, Sparky D’s “Sparky’s Turn (Roxanne, You’re Through).” The battle proved that an emcee did not need a full album, a major marketing campaign, or industry approval to make an impact—sometimes all it took was a beat, a sharp pen, and the courage to respond. The Roxanne Wars helped establish the diss record as an essential part of Hip-Hop competition while also creating space for female emcees to stand at the center of the culture and lyrically challenge anyone who stepped into the arena.

Who can forget The 1997 Bridge Wars that gave us one of Hip-Hop’s greatest battles on wax: Boogie Down Productions versus Marley Marl’s Juice Crew. What began with MC Shan’s Queensbridge anthem “The Bridge” escalated when KRS-One and BDP answered with “South Bronx” and the devastating “The Bridge Is Over,” turning a dispute over Hip-Hop’s birthplace into a lyrical war between the Bronx and Queens. The rivalry became so deeply embedded in the culture that KRS-One and MC Shan later recreated it for a 1995 iconic Sprite commercial, exchanging battle rhymes inside a boxing ring, and eventually revisited the historic clash on tour.

It showed how powerful a rap battle could become—not only defining reputations and careers, but remaining important enough to be celebrated and recreated decades later.

Kool Moe Dee and LL Cool J traded shots for years, while MC Lyte and Antoinette went bar for bar in one of Hip-Hop’s earliest major battles between female emcees, and MC Shan took an early shot at LL with “Beat Biter.” Later, Ice Cube dismantled his former group N.W.A. with the response “No Vaseline”; Common exchanged records with Ice Cube and the Westside Connection; LL Cool J went head-to-head with Canibus, MC Hammer and Ice-T, and Jay-Z and Nas brought Hip-Hop to a standstill. Jadakiss and Beanie Sigel, 50 Cent and Ja Rule, Eminem and Benzino, Pusha T and Drake, and eventually Kendrick Lamar and Drake all used records to settle arguments over skill, territory, credibility, respect, and supremacy. At their best, these battles were not simply personal attacks—they were displays of strategy, wordplay, delivery, storytelling, and the competitive spirit that has always pushed great emcees to sharpen their craft.

It did not always stay on wax, unfortunately, and that has always been the dangerous side of Hip-Hop conflict. The most tragic example was the infamous East Coast–West Coast rivalry surrounding Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G. What began as personal tension and lyrical shots grew into a media-fueled coastal war involving record labels, entourages, fans, and real street conflicts. The atmosphere became increasingly hostile, and both artists were eventually shot and killed—Tupac in 1996 and Biggie in 1997. Their deaths remain a painful reminder of what can happen when competition moves beyond beats and bars and becomes tangled with pride, violence, and forces much bigger than the music. At its best, battling gives artists a creative way to compete; at its worst, the consequences can become tragically real.

That is part of what made battles like Nas versus JAY-Z and Kendrick Lamar versus Drake so important. For a few weeks, the conversation returned to the words. People were not simply discussing album sales, celebrity relationships, fashion or popularity. They were replaying verses, studying punchlines, debating strategies and deciding who had the sharper pen. Hip-Hop once again became focused on the emcee.

These were a few rare moments when a rap battle became so big that the entire Hip-Hop world appeared to stop and listen. The Nas and JAY-Z battle was one of those moments. When Jay-Z publicly escalated their long-simmering rivalry with a lyrical shot at Nas at the June 28, 2001, Hot 97 Summer Jam concert at Nassau Coliseum, which became a rollout for the single “Takeover” on The Blueprint, many believed he had delivered a blow Nas could not recover from. Nas answered with “Ether” on December 4, 2001, and suddenly the conversation changed. Jay-Z responded with “Supa Ugly,” and for the next several weeks, you could not enter a barbershop, record store, radio station, neighborhood corner, or Hip-Hop conversation without someone debating who won.

Remember, this was before social media allowed everybody to give an immediate opinion. There were no reaction videos, podcasts dissecting every line within minutes, or fan armies controlling the narrative through hashtags. The records had to travel through radio, mixtapes, clubs, and word of mouth. People listened repeatedly, examined every bar and argued over whose claims carried more weight. It was not simply two popular rappers insulting each other—it was two of New York’s greatest emcees risking their reputations, legacies, and claims to the crown in front of the entire culture.

That’s what made the historic first night of Jay-Z’s three-day Yankee Stadium residency a defining moment when Nas joined Jigga on stage for an unforgettable mash-up of “Dead Presidents,” “N.Y. State of Mind,” and “Where I’m From,” with the two Hip-Hop icons finishing each other’s verses, so important. It was a powerful display of lyricism and brotherhood between two former rivals whose reconciliation has become one of Hip-Hop’s greatest stories.

More than two decades later, Kendrick Lamar and Drake created the streaming-generation version of that cultural shutdown. For several weeks in 2024, Hip-Hop once again became completely focused on the battle. Records were arriving quickly, listeners were breaking down every line in real time, and the conversation extended far beyond traditional rap audiences. Kendrick’s “Euphoria” reached No. 3 on the Billboard Hot 100, Drake’s “Family Matters” debuted at No. 7, and Kendrick’s “Not Like Us” entered the chart at No. 1.

The significance of Kendrick versus Drake was bigger than deciding who won. It proved that lyrical competition could still dominate popular culture in an era driven by short attention spans, algorithms and disposable content. A diss record became one of the biggest songs in the world, moving from headphones and social media into clubs, arenas, sporting events and neighborhood celebrations. “Not Like Us” later won five Grammy Awards, including Record of the Year; K-Dot even closed his 2025 Super Bowl halftime show with a triumphant performance of his Drake diss track—an extraordinary achievement for a record born from a rap battle.

The LOX and Dipset’s Verzuz battle on August 3, 2021, at the Hulu Theater at Madison Square Garden was another perfect example of why real emceeing still matters. Both crews came with legendary catalogs, but The LOX reminded everyone that having hit records is only part of the equation. Jadakiss, Styles P, and Sheek Louch controlled the stage, knew their lyrics, worked as a unit, responded in the moment, and, most importantly, knew how to rock a crowd. Jadakiss turned the night into a master class in preparation, breath control, presence, and lyrical dominance. It proved that when the lights are bright and there is nowhere to hide behind studio tricks, choreography, or hype, the emcee who has truly mastered the craft will always stand out.

Nas and Jay-Z shut down Hip-Hop during the radio and mixtape era. The LOX and Dipset did it again on the Verzuz stage, reminding everyone that a legendary catalog means nothing if you cannot perform your records, control the crowd, and defend your reputation in real time. Kendrick Lamar and Drake later brought that same energy into the streaming and social-media era. The technology and formats changed, but the feeling remained the same: elite artists put their names, legacies, and reputations on the line, while the culture became the judge and jury. Those moments reminded us that when the right competitors step into the arena with something real at stake, Hip-Hop will still stop everything, listen closely, and let the bars—and the performance—decide.

Big Daddy Kane and KRS-One’s 2021 Verzuz at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center was another dope display of what real lyricism, showmanship, and emceeing look like. These were two Golden Era giants who did not have to rely on hype, gimmicks, or studio tricks—they stood onstage with decades of history behind them and still delivered with sharp rhymes, commanding voices, breath control, and the ability to move a crowd. With appearances from legends including Roxanne Shanté, Masta Ace & Craig G, Das EFX, DJ Red Alert, and Mad Lion, the night became more than a competition between two catalogs; it was a celebration of Hip-Hop’s foundations and a master class for every younger rapper watching. Kane brought the smoothness, charisma, and precision, while KRS brought the raw energy, improvisation, and battle-tested presence. Nobody had to disrespect the other’s legacy for the competition to feel authentic. They challenged one another, celebrated the culture and proved that real emceeing does not have an expiration date.

What made me revisit the subject of my 1997 article nearly three decades later was a couple of current situations: after Max B questioned his recent relevance, rap legend Big Daddy Kane hit the studio and dropped a fiery freestyle to remind everyone that his lyrical skills are as sharp as ever and not to be tested. And 38 Spesh claiming Jadakiss was ducking a lyrical challenge. The Spesh situation was especially interesting because he and Jadakiss have previously appeared on a record together, where Spesh tries to make the case that, since he cooked everyone on Benny The Barber’s “Sunday School,” they both appeared on; Jada is ducking him and won’t give him a verse. Jada responded, letting off lyrical shots on two different records. This was not simply an unknown rapper mentioning a legend’s name for attention. But beyond those individual exchanges, I have been paying attention to the growing disrespect some newer rappers show toward the legendary emcees who built the foundation they now stand on.

Let me be clear: Hip-Hop has always been competitive. No emcee—legend or newcomer—should be above being challenged. Kool Moe Dee challenged Busy Bee, Canibus challenged LL Cool J, and countless hungry emcees built their names by stepping toward the crown instead of running from it. But there is a difference between respectfully challenging a legend with bars and disrespecting an elder in the game simply to generate attention, clicks, and controversy. Calling somebody out is easy. Standing in front of them, matching their skill, controlling a crowd, and proving you belong in the conversation is something entirely different.

Too many younger artists speak about foundational emcees as though Hip-Hop history began the day they released their first song. You do not have to bow down to the legends, but you should understand what they contributed before dismissing them. If you believe you are better than Big Daddy Kane, Jadakiss, or any other respected lyricist, then prove it the way Hip-Hop has always demanded: get on a beat, sharpen your pen, step into the arena, and let the bars flow and the culture decide. Respect is not weakness, and competition does not require erasing the people who made it possible for you to compete.

In a previous article, I discussed how Hip-Hop has always treated age differently from almost every other genre. In rock, legends grow into icons. In jazz, age represents mastery. In R&B, maturity can become part of an artist’s appeal. But in Hip-Hop, once you reach a certain age, the very culture you helped build suddenly starts asking, “Why are you still here?”

Despite the disrespect of the legends and everything the industry has done to water down the importance of lyricism, the culture still responds when elite artists truly compete. When the stakes are high, and the right emcees step into the arena, the beat becomes secondary, the marketing disappears, and the only thing that matters is what you said—and whether your opponent can answer it.

I am encouraged that just maybe that mindset is finally beginning to change. The artists who laid the foundation are not simply sitting back, collecting lifetime-achievement awards and living off records they made decades ago. They are still creating, performing, producing and competing at an extremely high level—not as relics from Hip-Hop’s past, but as active architects of its present. Over the last several years, some of the culture’s strongest music has come from emcees, DJs and producers over 50, proving that skill, creativity and lyrical sharpness do not come with an expiration date.

Thanks to Rock The Bells, the global platform founded by LL Cool J to celebrate Hip-Hop’s legacy while helping power its future, there are still places where fans can hear classic Hip-Hop, experience true emceeing and reconnect with the lyricism, storytelling and craftsmanship that built the culture. In an industry often driven by trends and algorithms, Rock The Bells with its curated classic Hip-Hop channel on SiriusXM (Channel 43) continues to provide a home for the architects—and a reminder that real bars, timeless records and legendary artists still matter.

Lyricism must remain the heartbeat of Hip-Hop because the words are what give the culture its depth, identity and lasting power. Beats may change, trends may come and go, and algorithms may decide what gets pushed today, but a great verse can outlive all of it. Real lyricism tells our stories, challenges power, documents our communities, sharpens the mind, and forces an emcee to bring more than an image or a catchy hook to the microphone. It is the difference between making a popular song and creating something people will still quote, study, and feel decades later. Hip-Hop can evolve without abandoning the craft that made it powerful in the first place. Because when the hype fades, the streams slow down and the moment passes, it is still the words that determine who truly left a legacy.

After celebrating Reasonable Doubt and The Blueprint, Hov closed his historic three-night Bronx residency with a career-spanning, surprise-filled celebration of Hip-Hop.

Let me say this from the jump: JAY-Z’s “Extra Innings” grand finale of the three-day Yankee Stadium residency was much bigger than a concert. It was the closing chapter of a three-night celebration of Hip-Hop history, legacy, and longevity—led by an artist whose rise from the streets of Brooklyn to one of the biggest stages in New York mirrors the growth of the culture itself.

Night One celebrated 30 years of Reasonable Doubt, the album that introduced us to a hungry Brooklyn hustler with elite-level wordplay, ambition, and an unapologetic belief in his own greatness. Night Two honored the 25th anniversary of The Blueprint, the album that helped cement JAY-Z’s position as one of Hip-Hop’s greatest emcees. But Sunday, July 12th—night three was different. “Extra Innings” was not devoted to one album or one era. It was a victory lap through three decades of music, memories, collaborations, and cultural dominance.

"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience, but I had to make sure everyone was OK," HOV told the audience when he finally took the stage after midnight, four hours after the concert’s listed start time (and around three hours after the previous two nights). "There was like ten thousand people outside, and they closed all the doors 'cuz someone rushed the door, and I didn't want to start music and have people get trampled. I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. I appreciate your patience. We gonna have a good time. I got some shit for you, I promise you," Jay continued

The night did not begin without complications. Thousands of fans were reportedly delayed outside Yankee Stadium, pushing the show’s start deep into the night. According to a report on New York's ABC7, citing an unidentified police source (and multiple social media posts), a large number of fans rushed at least two of the stadium's gates and got past security without being screened.

A full lockdown of the stadium ensued, with fans neither allowed out of the venue nor inside for an extended period. The long wait tested the patience of everyone in attendance, but Hov reportedly held off taking the stage to allow more ticket holders to enter the building. By the time he finally appeared, it was after midnight—but once the music started, the frustration quickly gave way to excitement.

“OK I’m Reloaded…”

JAY-Z opened the show by moving through different chapters of his catalog, performing records such as “Brooklyn’s Finest,” “Where I’m From,” “Dirt Off Your Shoulder,” “I Know,” and “U Don’t Know.” Unlike the first two nights, there was no need to follow the sequence or theme of one particular album. Hov freely moved wherever the music took him, connecting the hunger of young Shawn Carter with the confidence, experience, and perspective of the global icon he later became.

Then the guests started coming—and the stage began to feel like a reunion of artists who had helped create some of the most unforgettable moments of JAY-Z’s career.

BET Awards’ Icon Of The Year Teyana Taylor joined Jigga for “Can’t Knock the Hustle,” bringing new energy to one of the defining songs from Reasonable Doubt. Then Grammy-winning producer, rapper, songwriter, DJ, and entrepreneur Jermaine Dupri came out for “Money Ain’t a Thang,” taking the crowd back to an era when both artists were dominating radio, television, clubs, and the streets.

Jeezy followed with “Seen It All” and “Go Crazy,” reminding fans of the chemistry that Jigga & The Snowman developed while representing different regions but speaking the same language of ambition, survival, and success.

Jay Z performed“Hola’ Hovito,” and then Usher came out and joined Jay-Z for a soulful rendition of “Heart of the City (Ain’t No Love),” adding his signature vocals to one of Hov’s most powerful records.

Jay ran through several more classics from his catalog, including “Never Change,” “Song Cry,” “Izzo (H.O.V.A.),” “FuckWithMeYouKnowIGotIt,” and “Jigga What, Jigga Who,” keeping the crowd locked in as he moved effortlessly from one era of his career to the next. Then The Dream later joined Hov for “No Church in the Wild.”

Jay performed “Clique” before bringing out Rihanna, who received one of the loudest reactions of the night. Her appearance for “Run This Town” created one of those moments when the entire stadium seemed to become one voice. Seeing Rihanna and Jay-Z together again connected the audience to a period when their collaborations were helping define the sound of popular music. The chemistry was still there, the record still hit with the same force, and hearing tens of thousands of fans rap every word made the moment feel even bigger. Rihanna then kept the energy high with a performance of her own hit, “Bitch Better Have My Money,” turning an already historic finale into one of the most talked-about moments of the entire three-night residency.

After the rousing applause for RiRi, Jay went into “Dead Presidents.” It was around 1:42 am now, and the crowd was still with him. Then he went into other features and album cuts, including “Can I Live,” “Girls Girls Girls,” and “99 Problems” (partially over BDP’s “The Bridge Is Over” beat).

Swizz Beatz came out and brought that raw New York energy, coming out to the music of “Money Cash Hoes” and “Ruff Ryder’s Anthem,” paying homage to DMX. Jay performed Swizz Beatz-produced tracks like “Jigga My Nigga” and “On to the Next One.”

Next up was “Ain’t No Nigga” and Jay transitioned into “Excuse Me Miss,” where Foxy Brown’s verse would have been. Pharrell Williams returned to represent and revisit collaborations including “Excuse Me Miss,” “La-La-La,” “I Just Wanna Love U,” “Frontin’,” and “Allure.” Then Clipse came out and joined Skateboard P to complete the Virginia invasion of Yankee Stadium.

The night grew even more personal when Beyoncé appeared for “Drunk in Love.” Her presence added another family moment to a weekend that had already included Beyoncé and Blue Ivy. Across the three nights, the Carter family’s appearances reminded us that Jay-Z’s story is not only about albums, money, business, and championships. It is also about growth, partnership, fatherhood, family, and the evolution of a man who has allowed the public to witness different stages of his life through his music.

Just when everyone thought it was over, Jay treated those who waited close to 4 hours for the concert to start to an extra inning that included a medley of “Niggas In Paris,” “Big Pimpin,” and “PSA.” The band played Frank Sinatra’s “Theme from New York, New York,” and Jay transitioned into “Empire State On Mind.” Jay yelled “Knicks In 5,” and then Fat Joe and Jadakiss came out and performed the 2004 East Coast Hip-Hop anthem, “New York.”

Then Jay performed verses from “Who You Wit,” and “Lucifer,” ending just under a 3-hour concert with “Encore!”

That is what made “Extra Innings” so special. The guest appearances were not random. Each artist represented a different relationship, chapter, sound, or period in Jay-Z’s journey. Jermaine Dupri represented the late-1990s rise. Jeezy represented the connection between New York and Southern street music. Usher and Rihanna reflected Jay-Z’s ability to dominate the mainstream without abandoning Hip-Hop. Swizz Beatz represented the aggressive heartbeat of New York. Pharrell represented experimentation, reinvention, and longevity. Beyoncé represented love, family, partnership, and legacy.

As a Hip-Hop artist and somewhat of a historian, if you will, I have always believed our music deserves to be documented, studied, and celebrated with the same seriousness given to every other major American art form. Too often, our history is reduced to hit records, album sales, gossip, and social-media debates. But what took place at Yankee Stadium was bigger than entertainment. It was a living timeline of Hip-Hop’s growth—from park jams and neighborhood battles to international tours, billion-dollar businesses, and three-night residencies inside one of the most famous stadiums in the world.

Now think about that for a minute. Hip-Hop was born in the Bronx at a time when many dismissed it as noise, a passing fad, and something that would never last. Decades later, Jay-Z stood just 5.5 miles from 1520 Sedgwick Avenue—the building long celebrated as the birthplace of Hip-Hop—and commanded Yankee Stadium for three straight nights in front of tens of thousands of fans. That did not happen by accident. It happened because Hip-Hop survived every attempt to dismiss it, grew far beyond the neighborhoods where it began, and evolved into the most influential culture in the world without ever allowing anyone else to define its limits.

Night One honored the foundation with Reasonable Doubt. Night Two celebrated the brilliance and impact of The Blueprint. Night Three brought everything together—the street records, the radio hits, the collaborations, the friendships, the family moments, the business victories, and the lessons learned along the way.

Jay-Z’s three-night Yankee Stadium residency was bigger than a celebration of his catalog—it was a celebration of how far Hip-Hop has come and a reminder of just how powerful the culture remains. From Reasonable Doubt to The Blueprint to the star-studded “Extra Innings” finale, Hov turned one of New York’s most iconic venues into a living monument to Hip-Hop history. Three decades into his career, he proved that longevity is not just about surviving—it is about continuing to elevate, inspire, and command the world's biggest stages.

For three unforgettable nights in the Bronx, at 56 years old, Jay-Z did not simply perform at Yankee Stadium—he made it Hov’s house, and the culture won.

The historic second night of JAY-Z’s three-day Yankee Stadium residency delivered a memorable lineup of surprise guests, including Eminem, Pharrell Williams, and Slick Rick. The Bronx run reportedly became the highest-grossing and most-attended concert engagement in the stadium’s history, with 45,832 fans filling the venue on Saturday alone.

Let’s be clear: this is bigger than a concert—this is Hip-Hop history unfolding in the Bronx. JAY-Z is in the middle of a three-night takeover of Yankee Stadium, and opening night felt like a celebration of family, legacy, and the culture that made him. Beyoncé and Blue Ivy joined him on stage, while Nas, Memphis Bleek, Alicia Keys, and Jaz-O helped transform the night into a living timeline of his extraordinary journey from Marcy Projects to the biggest stages in the world. This was not just nostalgia. This was a reminder that three decades later, Shawn “JAY-Z” Carter is still standing at the center of Hip-Hop’s story.

On Saturday, July 11, 2026, JAY-Z celebrated The Blueprint with fan favorites including “U Don’t Know,” “Song Cry,” and “Izzo (H.O.V.A.).” Slick Rick opened the set with “The Ruler’s Back,” while Eminem joined JAY-Z for “Renegade” before performing his own anthem, “Lose Yourself.” Pharrell also took the stage for collaborations such as “Excuse Me Miss” and “Frontin’.” The star-studded crowd reportedly included LeBron James, Dave Chappelle, Jayson Tatum, Coco Jones, Gabrielle Union, and Joe Budden

The evening opened up Jay-Z’s performance of the opening single from The Blueprint, “The Ruler’s Back,” which he hadn’t performed live since 2006, gave the event a nostalgic start. Hov then delved even farther into the history of Hip-Hop by bringing out The Ruler himself, Slick Rick, whom he sampled from the iconic opening track of Rick’s debut album, The Great Adventures of Slick Rick. The line was later utilized in his 1991 sophomore album title, The Ruler’s Back (1991). Rick then went on to perform his 1985 hit song “La Di Da Di.” It was more than just an unexpected guest appearance; it was a potent generational transfer that brought together one of rap’s best storytellers and one of its most enduring icons on one of the biggest stages in New York.

Jay-Z transitioned straight into a run of his greatest hits, performing the classic "Izzo (H.O.V.A.)," “Girls, Girls, Girls” “Jigga That Nigga,” “U Don’t Know,” “Hola Hovito,” “Heart of the City (Ain’t No Love),” “Never Change,” “Song Cry,” and “All I Need.”

One of the highlights of the night was Eminem’s surprise appearance. As the opening notes of “Renegade” rang through Yankee Stadium, two of rap’s greatest lyricists stood side by side and delivered a thunderous live rendition of their 2001 classic, sending the Bronx crowd into a frenzy. The moment grew even bigger when Eminem came back out, joined by Mr. Porter, and followed with a powerful performance of his global anthem, “Lose Yourself,” turning the stadium into a sea of raised hands and roaring voices. It was the kind of unforgettable performance that reminded everyone why both artists remain among the most commanding figures ever to touch a microphone.

Then Hov went into “Blueprint (Momma Loves Me)” The track shifts from the album’s aggressive disses and street tales to a touching, nostalgic autobiography, celebrating his family and the formative moments that shaped his early life. It’s a vulnerable, reflective tone, and it’s viewed as one of the most underrated songs on the record.

Just when it looked like the concert was over, fans were not fooled like those who left after the Jay Z/Alicia Keys performance of Empire State Of Mind, Friday. The “Theme from New York, New York,” Frank Sinatra’s signature ode to the city that never sleeps, blasted through the speakers. Just as it was concluding with the iconic lines, “If I can make it there, I’m gonna make it anywhere, It’s up to you, New York, New York.” As the song then finished with a heavy, swinging brass, drum, and vocal crescendo that emphasized the “New... York” hook, Jay Z ran back out on stage and shouted, “Knicks In Fucking 5.”

Then, as an encore, he went into a medley of his joints like. “Empire State of Mind,” with the sold-out crowd singing Alicia Keys’ parts, before creating another unforgettable moment when Jay Z brought out Pharrell and did a medley of their tracks together. Hov and Skateboard P treated the crowd to a massive medley of their classic collaborations, including “Excuse Me Miss,” “Frontin’,” “La-La-La (Excuse Me Again),” and “I Just Wanna Love U (Give It 2 Me).”

He closed out the show with his mashup of “Niggas in Paris/ Big Pimping”, before finishing off the closing medley with a live remixed rendition of “PSA” and officially ending the evening with a performance of “Encore.” Grand Opening, Grand Closing. And with that, as the crowd chants “Hova, Hova Hova”… the band closes out on a high note, as Jigga exits the stage, leaving the sold-out crowd wanting more, applauding and holding up the ROC sign!

Saturday’s 25th-anniversary show was nestled between two other legendary nights. Night 1 (Friday, July 10) celebrated the 30th anniversary of his debut album, Reasonable Doubt, and Day 3 ("Extra Innings" on Sunday, July 12) wrapped up the epic NYC run.

JAY-Z’s historic three-night residency at Yankee Stadium was more than a series of sold-out concerts—it was a monumental celebration of Hip-Hop’s journey, influence, and enduring power. From the Bronx, where the culture was born, Hov brought together generations of fans, legendary artists, timeless records, and unforgettable moments on one of New York City’s grandest stages. But no matter who joined him on the stage, you never forgot whose show it was. The residency honored his remarkable catalog while also paying tribute to the pioneers who helped build the foundation beneath him. More than three decades into his career, JAY-Z proved that Hip-Hop does not simply belong in the stadium—it can command it, redefine it, and make history inside it. This was not just a victory lap for one artist; it was a triumph for the culture itself.

JAY-Z kicked off the show with a surprise appearance from ‘the hottest chick in the game wearing his chain, ’ his wife, Beyoncé, who joined him for “Can’t Knock the Hustle,” seamlessly filling Mary J. Blige’s role before Jigga launched into “Politics as Usual” and an a cappella freestyle. The massive centerfield stage, dominated by a towering LED screen, transformed Yankee Stadium into a visual celebration of Hov’s 30-year career, blending classic footage, music videos, and new content.

The star-studded crowd featured household names from film, music, sports, and business. NBA stars LeBron James, P.J. Tucker, Rudy Gay, and 2026 NBA Champion New York Knicks Power Forward, OG Anunoby, were among the athletes spotted enjoying the show. Hollywood was also well represented, with Kevin Hart, Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Lukas Haas, and Adrien Brody reportedly in attendance. The music world came out in force as well, including Megan Thee Stallion, DJ Khaled, Swizz Beatz, Jadakiss, Kelly Rowland, Fabolous, and Sheek Louch. Vanessa Bryant, widow of Kobe Bryant, was also reportedly in attendance, along with tech entrepreneur Jack Dorsey.

One of the night’s earliest highlights came during “Brooklyn’s Finest,” as archival footage of the late The Notorious B.I.G. appeared on the giant screen, creating the feeling that the Brooklyn legends were performing together once again. Jay-Z followed with “I Love the Dough,” paying further tribute to his late friend and collaborator.

Reflecting on Reasonable Doubt’s humble beginnings, Jay reminded the crowd that the album sold only about 43,000 copies in its first week before adding, “43,000 the first week... 45,000 tonight at Yankee Stadium. Culture always wins.” Rather than simply performing the album front to back, he celebrated its legacy by weaving in songs and moments from across his legendary catalog.

The concert’s defining moment came when Nas emerged for an unforgettable mash-up of “Dead Presidents,” “N.Y. State of Mind,” and “Where I’m From,” with the two Hip-Hop icons finishing each other’s verses. It was a powerful display of lyricism and brotherhood between two former rivals whose reconciliation has become one of Hip-Hop’s greatest stories.

The evening became a true family affair when Blue Ivy Carter took the stage. After a graceful piano performance that transitioned into “Feelin’ It,” Jay-Z proudly introduced his daughter to a roaring ovation before embracing her in a touching father-daughter moment.

The setlist continued with fan favorites including “D’Evils,” “Can I Live,” “Friend or Foe,” “Coming of Age” with Memphis Bleek, and “22 Twos,” while the live band cleverly segued from The Four Tops’ “Ain’t No Woman (Like the One I’ve Got)” into “Ain’t No Nigga” before transitioning into “Excuse Me Miss.”

Another surprise came when Jay-Z’s longtime mentor Jaz-O joined him for “Bring It On,” bringing the Reasonable Doubt era full circle.

To close the evening, Alicia Keys joined Hov for the Grammy-winning anthem “Empire State of Mind.” She then treated the crowd to a moving solo rendition of Billy Joel’s “New York State of Mind,” providing a fitting finale to a celebration of one of New York City’s greatest musical icons.

The "JAY-Z 30" event at Yankee Stadium was a three-night milestone residency (July 10–12, 2026) celebrating his landmark discography. It was a masterclass in nostalgia, storytelling, and Hip-Hop history. Dressed in signature New York style—a Yankees jacket, fitted cap, white tee, bulletproof vest, and Timberlands—Jay-Z proved that three decades after Reasonable Doubt, his music and cultural influence have only grown stronger.

The celebration continues at Yankee Stadium, where JAY-Z will honor the 25th anniversary of The Blueprint on Saturday, July 11, before closing out the historic three-night run with an “Extra Innings” concert on Sunday, July 12. From there, the 30th-anniversary celebration of Reasonable Doubt goes global, with performances scheduled for London’s Tottenham Hotspur Stadium on September 4, Paris’ Stade de France on September 10, and Los Angeles’ SoFi Stadium on October 23—proving once again that three decades later, JAY-Z’s influence, legacy, and ability to command the world’s biggest stages remain unmatched.