Iggy Azalea is the biggest thing to ever happen to Australian hip-hop. She’s also the least important
Achieving a Billboard one-two is big. It’s hard to do, even with a big label machine behind you. So let’s take a second to applaud her for it. But listen: Iggy Azalea means absolutely nothing to Aussie hip-hop. Not a damn thing.
Her pop-raps bear zero resemblance to the type of music being made by Australian rappers in 2014. The local hip-hop scene is more exciting, exuberant and imaginative than it has ever been; artists like Bliss n Eso, Illy, Urthboy and Seth Sentry all flirt with pop, but they’ve still got their feet planted firmly on the bedrock of hip-hop. Even artists who have yet to break it big are putting out material that is much more innovative than anything Azalea and her producers can cook up. Listen to Vegas Aces, Chelsea Jane or Coin Banks. They aren’t well known, and their singles aren’t cracking the Billboard charts, but they’re all doing things that push music in interesting directions.
And it’s not as if Azalea is the lone success story. She’s not riding high while every single other Aussie artist is scrounging for scraps. This past weekend, Bliss n Eso wrapped the biggest hip-hop tour in Australian history – a two-month, 16-date mission that drew huge crowds. They rocked it with opening acts Seth Sentry and Horrorshow; Sentry’s album just went gold, as did Bliss n Eso’s. Illy won an Aria award last year for his album Bring It Back, and has plenty of sales success himself. These are artists who have, somehow, taken the best of both worlds: they make fantastic music, and it sells bucket loads. They’ve also proven that you don’t need American validation to be a charting artist –
and if another Aussie rapper makes it big in the US, it certainly won’t be because of Azalea’s success.
In musical terms, it’s difficult to identify Azalea as Australian. And if you chose to, the equivalent would be claiming Akon is a standard-bearer for Senegalese music, or that Trinidad James is successful purely because of his association with the islands. That’s not what they’re known for, and every time someone tries to single out Azalea as Aussie rap, it feels forced. Forbes found that out recently, when one of their writers cranked out a piece with the headline Hip Hop Is Run By A White, Blonde, Australian Woman (it was later changed to Hip Hop's Unlikely New Star: A White, Blonde, Australian Woman).
Any one of a dozen artists could have made Fancy. It’s as individual and distinctive as a tax form. And Azalea, for all her pop sensibilities, is a truly rubbish rapper. Compare her to Nicki Minaj: both make sugary, bouncy pop music, but if she so desires, Minaj can turn around and unleash a blistering verse at anyone who dares question her. She doesn’t usually choose to – more’s the pity – but at least she can.
Azalea’s music should be enjoyed for what it is: fun, radio-friendly pop. To call it Aussie hip-hop, or to equate what she does with the Australian hip-hop scene, is completely pointless.
The new town hero?
http://www.theguardian.com/film/aust...p-us-billboard