Can Calgary’s Broken Hip-Hop Scene be Repaired?

The city of Calgary is huge—1,195,194 people at last count—and seems to be growing rapidly with no signs of stopping. It features a population with the second-youngest median age in Canada and boasts the highest median family income. All of these young people with disposable income would suggest a good environment for a rap artist to work out of and develop to at least some form of local celebrity. It’s been done in Vancouver with SonReal, Halifax with Classified, and Edmonton has done it with Cadence Weapon—who has since relocated to Montreal. Plus let’s not forget Toronto with k-os, Shad, Rich Kidd, and obviously Drake. “Calgary’s still somewhat overlooked,” acknowledges DJ Cosm of Dragon Fli Empire, a local hip-hop duo. “You look at other big Canadian cities and you see breakthrough artists. In Calgary, we’ve had a few really talented people, but maybe there’s still some catalyst needed.”

Calgary’s golden age occurred between 1997 and 2002, says Cosm, with huge acts playing shows and rap-devoted radio stations emerging. Hometown hero DJ Pump won the national DMC DJ competition in 2000, adding the cherry to the top of the golden era: “That was pretty much the crescendo,” says Drew Atlas, a veteran DJ and promoter. In addition to strong stage presence and marketability, Atlas points to local support as a key factor that’s missing in Calgary but necessary in fostering any potential export. It’s slowly improving, largely on account of 10 at 10, a monthly rap “dojo” hosted at Commonwealth Bar which gives rappers the chance to perform for 10 minutes each. Sarah Sussman, the Calgary-based associate editor-in-chief for HipHopCanada, notes 10 at 10 has made the scene far tighter and more accessible.

Beni Johnson, founder of 10 at 10, says that while the internet can and has helped some rappers blow up, “there’s still tens of thousands who need to work on their craft in a live setting and in a local setting, where they can find out what their sound sounds like for radio and mass consumption, and make a better product.” Unfortunately, many can get stuck in the cycle of playing 10 at 10 with the occasional opening gig for big names like Rick Ross or Wu-Tang Clan. It seems every rapper in the city has a few horror stories of having to push tickets for major shows before given to “opportunity” to open for a larger act. New’L, a strong KOTD competitor and stage performer, recalls once selling 160 tickets (all in-person) for a Meek Mill show, while Transit) (a Slug-inspired rapper) notes that many rookies will sell thousands of dollars worth of tickets and still don't get paid. “It’s cool if you want to pretend,” says Eazy Mac, a rapid-fire rapper. “But after I did a few shows it’s like, this is fun and it looks cool and I get a picture with the artist after, but I need to progress.”

Finding that progress is easier said than done. An unfortunate byproduct of the hyper-accommodating local scene is that rappers aren’t always pressured to progress or innovate; Sussman notes that some rappers receive praise when they should be receiving constructive criticism. It’s the whole steel sharpens steel idea. Evrlove Blake, a talented spitter who oscillates between trap and cloud rap, suggests that this friendly atmosphere combined with the emphasis of tickets sales over skills, means that “straight talent” often gets ignored in favour of who can network most efficiently. “The number one thing is that we could use a little bit of quality control,” agrees New’L. “Once artists see people getting on these bigger shows that are talented, it’ll show that you have to be that good to get on shows, not just hustling all these tickets.”

Getting radio play on major stations would help, and Johnson of 10 at 10 notes that even an hour-long show a week of local content would boost the scene tremendously. But he’s not optimistic: “Are you going to increase our bottom dollar? Probably not. So I understand from a business standpoint why they wouldn’t play it.” The reality is that the infrastructure which rappers have historically relied on doesn't exist in 2015, with artists gaining fans via Soundcloud or Datpiff. Many listeners just don’t bother with radio anymore, a fact that serves as an extra challenge for a city that only recently started to establish a strong scene in the decentralized era. Focusing on business acumen is something that hasn’t historically been discussed in the scene, but that’s finally changing: creating a strong brand, offering a consistent product and printing shirts are all becoming increasingly important. Cosm notes that people who come as openers on Dragon Fli Empires tours tend to be those who can offer something extra, like language translation or operating sound gear. “A lot of the artists out here don’t really focus on the business side of making music,” says DaKidT, an aggressive emcee in the spirit of Cozz and OG Maco. “You can make a million songs but if you don’t know how to sell it or market it you can’t get anywhere, right?"

Transit—a rapper who Johnson sees has been largely ostracized from the community because “a majority of the scene does not like his music”—is the best recent example of this malleability. In the past year, he’s made it to SXSW and toured America with Doomtree, largely because he’s personally done the legwork of applying for grants, organizing and throwing his own shows, and scoring features alongside artists like Astronautalis, Madchild, and Grieves. “The people coming from this city are waiting for something to be handed to them instead of being the bands in the city that go and grab it,” he says. “These bands that are killing it in Calgary—The Dudes, Viet Cong, whatever—don’t use promoters like hip-hop do. Stop waiting for your career to fall in your lap, pick up a phone, book a venue and bring people: you don’t need to open for Wu-Tang to have a concert.”

Another element that’s assisted Transit’s rise is his willingness to crossbreed genres: he developed his solid fan base at rock and metal shows. Johnson adds that some of Canada’s biggest names towed a similar line, with Shad mixing in live instrumentation and k-os offering up an eclectic fusion sound. It’s also reflected in show bookings—Colin Canning of Commonwealth says they often try to bring in acts that appeal to more than just hip-hop heads. DJ Wyzewon, co-host of CJSW’s Dirty Needles adds that there isn’t a dedicated hip-hop night in Calgary besides 10 at 10.

There’s obviously immense talent in the city’s rap scene: Ayoo Angie, Halfcut and A.Y.E. all offer up excellent tracks and albums, but the marketing element isn’t there to let people know they exist. Many seem somewhat resigned to keep plodding along with the current approach, hoping it will work for them eventually. Others aren’t so confident: Eazy Mac recently moved to Vancouver because he felt like he’d hit the ceiling in Calgary and was getting burnt out. DaKidT says he’s planning to move stateside in a few years, and Transit is openly talking about how he’s playing more shows these days in L.A. than he is in Calgary. But Evrlove Blake—who’s soon heading down to Atlanta to working with Brick Squad Mafia’s DJ Deceptacon and play a few shows—tends towards optimism. “The scene started late,” he says. “It’s just coming alive now. Calgary’s made huge ground in the last couple of years: from their artists and sound to the venues, to the shows that are coming to the city. It’s going to be a catalyst for all these new artists.”

John Wilt is a writer based in Calgary. Follow him on Twitter - @j_morgan_wilt