We are living in an era of algorithmic smoothing. The jagged edges of culture—the specific, painful, and beautiful realities of Black and Brown experiences—are increasingly sanded down to fit “chill vibes” playlists and 15-second viral snippets. Mainstream trends cannibalize the aesthetic of struggle while erasing the people who actually live it. But true art doesn’t aim for the frictionless middle; it thrives in the overlooked spaces. It persists in the margins, refusing to be diluted.
1. Dwain The Po3t — “Still Dreaming”
Info about artist:
Dwain The Po3t is a multifaceted creative force from East London—musician, poet, author, and psychotherapist. Blending alternative Hip Hop with spoken word, his work is deeply rooted in societal critique and mental health advocacy. He has collaborated with UK legends like Skepta and Wiley, yet remains grounded in his community work with disaffected students.
| Niche | Review (Passionate & Urgent) | Score (1-10) |
| Conscious Hip Hop / Spoken Word |
“A Lucid Vision in a Sleeping World”
In a genre often co-opted for shallow aesthetics, Dwain reclaims the “conscious” label with urgent, professional precision. “Still Dreaming” isn’t just a track; it’s a thesis statement against the erasure of Black humanity. His delivery possesses the measured cadence of a therapist but the fire of a poet who has seen too much. The production is cinematic, providing a lush backdrop for lyrics that demand we wake up from the nightmare of systemic racism. While the message is vital, the “cinematic” swelling sometimes threatens to overtake the raw grit of his voice, smoothing out edges that should remain sharp. It’s powerful, but occasionally leans too heavily into its own grandeur. |
6.8 |
2. Lexo Imperio — “Flor marchita”
Info about artist:
Lexo Imperio is a Mexican writer and performer dedicated to Rap in Spanish. In an industry that often demands English assimilation for global reach, Lexo doubles down on his roots, using his native language to paint vivid emotional landscapes.
| Niche | Review (Passionate & Urgent) | Score (1-10) |
| Spanish Rap |
“Blooming in the Concrete”
There is a specific kind of erasure that happens when non-English artists are ignored by the anglophone mainstream. “Flor marchita” (Withered Flower) fights this by forcing the listener to feel the decay and the beauty through flow alone. Lexo’s delivery is percussive and pained, translating the universal language of struggle. However, the production feels slightly dated, relying on boom-bap tropes that don’t quite push the sonic envelope forward. It’s a solid display of perseverance and cultural pride, but musically, it needs to take more risks to truly break through the noise. |
6.2 |
3. Scottie the 3rd — “NO APOLOGIES”
Info about artist:
Based in Nashville, TN—a city dominated by the country music machine—Scottie the 3rd operates as a triple threat: artist, producer, and engineer. Dropping weekly tracks as part of a producer album, he represents the independent hustle in a space that often overlooks Hip Hop talent.
| Niche | Review (Passionate & Urgent) | Score (1-10) |
| Indie Hip Hop / Production |
“Unapologetic Presence”
Scottie isn’t asking for permission to exist in Music City; he’s taking it. “NO APOLOGIES” serves as the flagship for his self-produced project, and the sweat equity shows. The fact that he mixed, mastered, and rapped this himself speaks to the necessity of self-reliance when the industry gates are closed. The track has a bounce that defies the “Nashville” stereotype, but the mix feels a bit too eager to please, perhaps over-polished in an attempt to meet playlist standards. It lacks the dangerous, raw texture that makes underground hip-hop truly disruptive. It’s competent and catchy, but I want to hear more of him and less of the “curator-friendly” polish. |
6.5 |
4. Jamie Chaney — “Pick up the Mic”
Info about artist:
A provocative voice who invites listeners to “have a cup of tea” with him regardless of their stance. Jamie Chaney frames his music as a conversation—sometimes uncomfortable, always necessary.
| Niche | Review (Passionate & Urgent) | Score (1-10) |
| Alternative / Conscious |
“The Act of Speaking”
The title “Pick up the Mic” is the ultimate directive for anyone facing erasure: speak or vanish. Chaney brings a distinct, almost conversational British wit to the track that feels like a direct address to the listener. It’s provocative, yes, but it risks feeling like a lecture rather than a song. The instrumental serves the lyrics but doesn’t elevate them, leaving the track feeling a bit thin. It’s a brave attempt to spark dialogue, but without a stronger musical backbone, the message risks getting lost in the medium. |
5.9 |
5. Lyrics — “Growing Pains”
Info about artist:
Lyrics is an industry veteran from Edison, NJ, with a resume that reads like a Hip Hop history book. Brother to Total’s Pamela Long, he was part of the group The Union and has collaborated with icons like Big L, Guru, and Raekwon. “Growing Pains” is his latest reflection on a life spent in the game.
| Niche | Review (Passionate & Urgent) | Score (1-10) |
| Classic Hip Hop |
“The Scars of Longevity”
In a culture obsessed with the “new,” Lyrics reminds us that survival is its own art form. “Growing Pains” carries the weight of decades. You can hear the ghosts of the Golden Era in his cadence—a refusal to adapt to mumble-rap trends just to stay relevant. This is grown-man rap. However, the track suffers from a sense of nostalgia that borders on derivative. While the technical skill is undeniable, the song feels like it’s looking backward rather than pushing the narrative forward. It’s a respectful nod to the past, but in 2025, we need the elders to lead us into the future, not just remind us of where we’ve been. |
6.4 |
Today, we look at five artists who are fighting this erasure. Whether it’s a psychotherapist from East London deconstructing racism, a Mexican rapper spitting in his native tongue despite the language barrier, or a Nashville producer carving out space for Hip Hop in the capital of Country, these creators are proving that presence itself is a form of resistance.
Ou bat tanbou epi ou danse ankò.
