Macklemore than Ever

After a decade in limbo, Macklemore is exploding in 2011. His transformation, says one hip-hop snob, is an example of re-branding done right.

Photograph by Sarah Jurado

Let’s be blunt: Macklemore is making history. The Seattle-born-and-bred rapper recently sold out three nights at the Showbox at the Market, the last of which plays on March 5. You’d expect that kind of hat trick from an established, multi-platinum superstar – Kanye West, Eminem, Snoop Dogg – not a twenty-seven-year-old native who came up through the city’s still-developing hip-hop scene.

I’ve known Macklemore, real name Ben Haggerty, since he was fifteen years old, performing with Elevated Elements at the Sit ’n’ Spin around ’99 or 2000. I remember a crew of high-school kids in jerseys and baseball hats onstage doing “conscious rap.” The group’s early tracks like ”The Language of My World” were run-of-the-mill hip-hop, nothing special. ”B-Boy,” ”City Don’t Sleep” and ”Inhale Deep” showed us where young Macklemore’s head was at: he’d fallen into the cliché rap lifestyle and gotten himself addicted to cough syrup and alcohol. It wasn’t until he sobered up (going on two and a half years now) and shed the “I’m so hip-hop” image that he seemed to find himself. He stopped caring about being a “rapper” and started caring about his future. This shift in attitude has opened up the lane for him to be the 2011 Macklemore, the one who sells out three shows at the Showbox.

Macklemore’s music is serious but easy to understand. Producer and musical partner Ryan Lewis builds backdrops of cinematic strings, multilayered choruses, complex drum progressions and earthy breakdowns. These are cohesive compositions, not just three verses and a repetitive hook, far richer than the simple boom-bap stuff of his youth. Mack clearly enunciates every lyric for maximum impact. Thanks to his careful attention to detail and construction, the music feels far more important than its subject matter implies. Recent singles are about everyday shit. “My Oh My” is an ode to Seattle Mariners announcer Dave Niehaus; “The Town” is a declaration of hometown pride. 

These songs are ultimately made for Seattleites. They celebrate Seattle’s cultural scene – its hip-hop community, its sports heroes. Through them, Macklemore has connected directly with young fans attracted to a nonthreatening brand of hip-hop that speaks of hometown heroes they can practically reach out and touch. There’s a unique give-and-take at work: the YouTube video for “The Town” has had close to six hundred thousand views, while on their Web site (www.bengalyucky.com), Mack and Lewis have posted over a dozen spoof videos made by fans – tweens and teens, kids of various ethnicities. These same kids are coming out by the thousands – witness the near-sellout of the Paramount last October for the City Arts Fest show featuring Macklemore and Blue Scholars –as well as the 3,400 tickets sold for these three Showbox shows.

I recently talked about Macklemore with members of Northwest hip-hop’s “old guard,” some of the same artists he pays tribute to in “The Town.” A few
have issues with his music. Lack of originality is one of them: the flow and feel of his work is reminiscent of Slug from Atmosphere, a popular indie rapper from Minneapolis. Another complaint is that he is too sentimental; some say Macklemore hasn’t fully developed as an emcee. He’s too over the top, too dramatic, with not enough “spit.” 

You know what? It doesn’t matter. Whatever their gripes, each of these performers agrees that Mack properly reps the Northwest. In so much modern rap music, real subject matter is dead, replaced by pop hooks, soft R&B love pleas and shallow weed anthems.

Macklemore, on the other hand, is careful in constructing thoughtful messages. His honesty is refreshing, despite his candy-coated appeal. The musical ambition of his songs is impressive, even as the lyrics stay humble. Surprisingly, I can live with that.

Vibrant as it is, the current Seattle hip-hop scene supports anything homegrown, quality or no. Many acts borrow from whoever’s hot nationally and have yet to stamp an identity on their music. Ten or more concerts a week around the city is a lot. Minimal exclusivity leads to a bunch of hobby rappers patting each other on the back night after night. Macklemore and Ryan Lewis are an exception to this regional rule. Even as they make themselves accessible to fans, they’ve established a sense of exclusivity and craft in their music, enough so that a concert at the Showbox becomes a can’t-miss event.

After their run at the Showbox, Macklemore and Lewis embark on a US tour booked by the same agency that books hip-hop bigshots A Tribe Called Quest, Ghostface Killah and Wiz Khalifa. The usual question would be “will they blow up nationally?” But once again, Macklemore demands a fresh perspective. Their success at home is of national proportions, whether or not the nation knows it.•

Karim Panni, aka Nightclubber Lang, is a founding member of Seattle hip-hop groups the Boom Bap Project and Oldominion. He currently lives in Oakland, California, where he owns music marketing firm Quality Control Marketing, LLC.