The Rise of XXXTentacion and How the Internet Changed Hip-Hop

Weekly Article
Brittany Hutton/Flickr.com
Oct. 9, 2020

A new generation of hip hop artists has emerged—one that’s overturning many of the industry’s long-held norms. These new rappers and performers, who have gained fame via platforms like Soundcloud, often make music that is darker and more vulnerable than that of prior generations. But it isn’t just the music that’s new: These artists are also pioneering a fresh model of celebrity, often directly engaging and cultivating strong bonds with their fans.

Perhaps the greatest exemplar of this new generation was XXXTentacion—before he was fatally shot in a drive-by in the summer of 2018. Born Jahseh Dwayne Ricardo Onfroy in Plantation, Fla., X’s life was punctuated by trauma and hardship. Controversy dogged him at every stage of his meteoric rise to fame; his volatile personality and penchant for violence led to many run-ins with the law and, ultimately, his untimely death at the age of 20. But, as journalist Jonathan Reiss reveals in Look At Me!, his recent biography of X, the sensational headlines belied the complexity of this talented, troubled young man. The book highlights the wide-ranging cultural influences that shaped X and his music, from Japanese anime to the Haitian diaspora in South Florida, and the ways that he channeled these influences into an often shockingly candid and compelling new brand of hip hop—one that continues to speak to a generation of disaffected young people.

I sat down with Reiss to discuss Look at Me!, the rise of hip hop collectives, how the internet has reshaped youth culture, and more.

The following interview has been edited for clarity and context.

Earlier this year, rapper Doja Cat came under fire for her relationship to darker, often racist corners of the internet which she has occasionally referenced in her lyrics. In Look At Me!, you write that she was one of the artists XXXTentacion aspired to work with before his death—and there seem to be real parallels in their cultural references and styles. How do you think internet culture has shaped the current generation of hip hop artists?

Based on what I've seen, Doja Cat, has a way of connecting with fans that, in some ways, is comparable to X’s approach. She seems like she's someone whose personality is as big a part of the artist-fan relationship as the music. As soon as I saw the news [about her resurfaced song “Dindu Nuffin”], I was curious whether anyone would ask me about it, because of its clear parallels to some of X’s controversies.

The internet has definitely destroyed the genre line in a way that is just never going to recover. Not that that's a bad thing—I think people just don't really differentiate anymore between genres and are going to do it less and less as time goes on.

If you're an XXXTentacion fan or a Doja Cat fan, you live in the media ecosystem of XXXTentacion or Doja Cat. The direct conversation [they have with their fans]—that’s so strong. I think there's a tendency for young, intelligent people to want to model entertainers or artists, and in the case of X and many of these newer artists, it's just a different experience. When I was growing up, I remember being completely obsessed with different musicians and writers and just, wow, thinking about how much it would have meant to me to be able to communicate with them in the way that kids now extensively can. That's powerful.

Throughout the book, you show the myriad ways in which his uniquely candid and intense relationship with his fans propelled his rise. Could you talk a bit more about X and his fans, and how you think that relationship shaped him?

I think one thing that people don't give X enough credit for is how incredibly savvy he was. Those who really hate him take every opportunity to treat him as if he failed upwards, but I think that’s distinctly not the case—I think a lot of it came from a really genuine place. I think he needed his fans. There's a quote at the end of the book from somebody who was with him when not many people were. She talks about him seeing a billboard with his face on it. At this point, he was as famous as he would ever get. Even though he acted so cocky, when he saw this billboard. It was like fame shocked him and at the same time nourished him. I think he had a deep void in his soul—he was one of those people who was always trying to build a family, and I think he did that with his many fans. Something that’s not really written about is the fact that he communicated with fans directly throughout his career. He really built those relationships in a way that I don't think anyone else has in this era. I think it was of a function of the fact that he genuinely needed it.

You mentioned the lack of generosity that X's critics showed towards him, especially given that he was a fairly young man. The versatility of X's music is self-evident—you track in Look At Me! his many influences, from trap to reggae to post-punk. But it seems like a lot of the reviews and criticism of his work really didn't engage with these influences. Why do you think that is?

Writing this book, I talked to a lot of smart critics. I read all the reviews I could find of his work—he got almost no good reviews in any large outlets. And when I would bring up the versatility, the response I'd usually get was, “Oh, yeah, this is common. It's what everyone's trying to do. And there's a bunch of people who have done it before him, and they've done it better.” I don't know that that's true—it feels a little glib to say that. I think music writing as a medium is very flawed. It's tenuous. There's a tendency for music writers to think that they have a larger grasp on the current stratosphere of music than they do. And it's just impossible today—it's impossible to listen to as much as we would need to to be a music critic imbued with the responsibility people give them.

I think people make up their minds about who this person is before they hear him. There are even quotes from reviews of X’s songs with critics saying things like, “I don't want this to be as affecting as it is.” That's just sort of an odd thing. His controversies are legitimate, but there are artists that are guilty of comparable or worse things. I don’t think people listen to Charles Manson records and say, “It really pains me to say that this was an emotionally wrenching song.” People sort of revel in the edginess of liking a Charles Manson album. I used to know a ton of people who would talk about how good Screwdriver's first album was—you know, before they became Nazis. So why don't they give [X] credit for expanding so many genres? Yes, it is becoming more common, but he was doing it very early, and he was doing it in ways that aren't, or weren't, common.

You emphasize in the book that X was inextricably linked to the rise of Florida hip hop, which sort of grows in prominence and influence alongside X himself. Could you talk about the distinct elements of Florida hip hop and how you see regional idiosyncrasies shaping hip hop as an industry?

Yeah, I think we live in a moment where Florida is influential not just as a music scene. Florida is a reflection of America at large—we're all becoming Floridian in this strange way. I think that Florida never was given credit as a music scene—not just for hip hop, but also a lot of other genres. It should have been one of the most influential hip hop scenes, because it’s a melting pot—that's just sort of how the major cities that represent unique parts of the country are. The melting pot in Florida is all of those things.

There was the Miami bass explosion but that was just a moment. And it's not like everyone knows it. It's not like 2 Live Crew is Dr. Dre. Even when they were having their moment, I think that they were seen as sort of an oddity, kind of fringe.

So you know, Florida basically always felt like New Jersey. I'm from New Jersey and I love New Jersey, but, you know, New Jerseyans are very aware that they are right next to New York. If you grow up in New Jersey, you're going to go into New York to experience music. In Florida, they had Georgia, they had Atlanta right next to them, and there was definitely frustration in that. That frustration is more meaningful than I think people would imagine.

Growing up dreaming of becoming a rapper, it feeds the soul in a way that is important regardless of whether it's something that anyone's likely to ever see out. Florida kids just didn't feel like they had that. But then X develops this very Florida sound that is aggressive and so full of rage, capturing the diversity and energy of this weird cousin to the more prominent hip hop locales.

One of the most interesting aspects of X's career is that his successes and failures weren't really just his own but those of his larger crew, Members Only. He seems to be like a representative of that internet collective-music pipeline that you were talking about. How do you think that group and its dynamic shaped X as an individual and musician?

X really tried to build a family everywhere he went. One thing that sort of connects everyone in members only is that they're outcasts. The hip hop my generation grew up with doesn't really associate it with outcasts. Hip hop and punk rock sort of grew parallel to one another. But the nineties brought this era of hip hop that was associated with the ultra mainstream. Members Only were not the type of kids that were considered hip hop kids when I was growing up.

They were making this hip hop music that was very much from a kind of nihilist perspective. I talk about this a lot in the book, but people have the right to mix hip hop and punk. But it’s usually been done in a pretty paint-by-numbers fashion. But X and Members Only crew do something a bit different. They borrowed energy, instead of cribbing the song structures or merging a punk chorus with a hip hop verse or vice versa. They infused hip hop with the ethos, the attitude, of punk.

There is a lot of concern for young people in general in this book. What do you hope readers take away from it regarding the state of our youth?

I hope that one thing people get out of this book is that we're going to see a lot of people like X, who basically grow up in front of our eyes and are given a kind of responsibility as kids that we don't have much of a model for understanding. I see X as sort of a test subject in that way. I hope that a lot of people get from this book a sense of what kids are dealing with right now, growing up online.

Young people today deserve a lot of consideration and leeway for growing up during a time that is just completely completely unique and without much precedent.