How old are you? No, really. If you work in a youth-obsessed industry like hip-hop, you probably have a real age and an industry age. No judgment here. The industry age is a good three to five years younger than you really are. If you’re a woman, make that 10 years younger.
Age has been on my mind lately. Last week, I posted a YouTube reaction video about hip-hop’s aging problem following the media beef between Elliott Wilson and Charlamagne Tha God.
If you haven’t been following, Charlamagne (46 years old) criticized the older Elliott Wilson (53 years old) for wanting to be a rap media personality at his age. Wilson, who was the editor in chief of XXL magazine from 1999 to 2008, has stayed in the trenches of rap media by pivoting to blogging and then podcasting with Rap Radar. He likes his name mentioned among millennials and now Gen-Z. Because of this, he often gets into bouts with younger artists and influencers.
Meanwhile, Charlamagne began his career in radio as Wendy Williams’ sidekick and has grown to prominence with The Breakfast Club. Unlike Wilson, who has remained a rap purist, Charlamagne has expanded into TV (including the short-lived show MTV’s Hip Hop POV that I was also on), publishing and politics. It’s clear he has aspirations beyond his current position.
Elliott and Charlamagne represent two very different paradigms in hip-hop. One sees it as forever while the other sees it as a club you quickly age out of.
What’s the difference between an oldhead and an OG?
The OG is a wise, successful (and hopefully, rich) veteran. The oldhead is desperately holding on to his faded glory. Usually, to the detriment of the next generation that can’t move up because he won’t move on. There’s a lot of this in an industry with fragile egos and a scarcity of positions.
In hip-hop, everyone is obsessed with remaining forever young. As my old boss at Bad Boy Records told me, “hip-hop is a young man’s game.” Mind you, I was 21 years old…and a girl. How many rappers have chosen the stage moniker “Lil”? Even well after puberty, they keep that name. Jay-Z called himself “Young Hov.” Ditto for Young Jeezy, who dropped the prefix in his 30s.
Unlike genres like rock and country, hip-hop is relatively young. It only turned 50 last year. This is midlife crisis territory. Then, there’s the music. Thematically, rap music leans very young. It’s one thing when you’re a teenager or twentysomething. But once you hit a certain age, it starts to feel off. Do I really want to hear 17 year olds rap about “money, hoes and clothes”? No. That’s both creepy and illegal.
Because of this, nobody knows how to age gracefully in hip-hop. The role models who did it well such as Will Smith, LL Cool J, Queen Latifah, MC Lyte, Jay-Z and Nas did so by pivoting outside of hip-hop. They expanded into Hollywood, business, fashion and other industries. Staying in the game too long means you had no other opportunities available to you.
Because of that, everyone—artists, journalists, executives—is constantly playing the numbers game. How can I find ways to appear and act as young as possible?
Here’s the thing: We need people who can age gracefully. We need gatekeepers. We need visionaries and mentors. People with actual work experience and life experience. Followers and vibes isn’t a substitute for earned stripes on your arm.
So to my fellow oldheads OGs, congratulations on being in this game for this long. Surviving for 10, 15, 20 years in this industry is an accomplishment. Don’t feel pushed out of the club. Leave when—and if—you want to.