Attack of the Featured Artist

This piece is my take on the whole phenomenom of "featured" artists appearing on nearly every track nowadays. I wrote it a couple months ago, though it becomes more relevant every day.Whether it's an up-and-comer trying to attract some attention with some big names, or an established star just bringing some old friends along, it's hard not to take notice of how important "featured" artists have become.
    Basically, Hip-hop is suffocating with featured artists Last year, 22 of the 25 best selling rap singles contained the word “featuring.” On the top 15 rap CDs selling right now, 136 of the 222 tracks (61%) on them have featured artists. (And as I'm reposting this piece now, the numbers are 92 out of 160 which is 64%. Does that mean things are continuing to get worse?) Rappers are no longer expected to get by solely on their own abilities. Instead, their songs are judged on the value of their featured artists—whomever they can pay enough to join them on a track.
    It’s widely accepted that the late 1980’s and early ‘90’s were the “Golden Age of Hip-Hop.” Lyrical masters such as KRS-one, Eric B, Rakim, and Big Daddy Kane rocked the mic, and hip-hop classics such as Illmatic, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), and Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik were released. Even as we progressed into the late 90’s, single artist tracks were still the dominant force in the industry. Jay-Z and Nas produced incredible chart-topping albums on a near-yearly basis by their own merit, proving that artists could still climb the charts carrying their own weight.
    The early 2000’s saw the rise of the era of glamour. Hip-hop slowly started to merge with pop-music as Cam’ron donned pink fur coats and Sean Comb a.k.a. P. Diddy a.k.a. Puff Daddy a.k.a. Puffy a.k.a. Diddy started his Sean John clothing line and held his infamous “white parties” (named for the rule requiring all guests to wear only white). Yet artists were still able to move their singles to millions across the world without burdening their tracks with featured artists.
    As we’ve pushed into this era of the featured artist a rapper has become almost nothing but a brand name. Any big name rapper can bring enormous success to a song simply by allowing their name to appear next to it. Slapping Lil Wayne onto an unknown track and labeling it as a “remix” can bring it from obscurity to number one on iTunes. Relatively unknown artists such as M.I.A. and Estelle can shoot to instant stardom after years of anonymity simply because of a single song with Jay-Z or Kanye West.
    Going further into the decade, the number of “featured” tracks only grows. “Swagga Like Us,” a single from T.I.’s latest album, Paper Trail, featuring Kanye West, Jay-Z, and Lil Wayne, has shown exactly how dominant the featured artist has become. What could have previously been an unnoticed track with an unremarkable beat on became the most talked about rap song in years, shooting to the top of the charts. Purely by having three of the most recognizable rappers in the industry on his track, T.I. created such a popular song.
    So the question is: are features good for hip-hop? Absolutely not. There are some benefits to the trend. For example, consumers are getting more bang for their buck with each song. Instead of paying for a single with one artist, you get to listen to four for the price of one. It also gives new artists a chance to get recognized, since a feature from a successful artist serves as a co-sign to any new talent, assuring consumers that the artist is worth their time and money.
     On the other hand, the role as a featured artist lowers the expectations for many rappers. Quantity has become valued over quantity, with the most well-known rappers jumping on every remix they possibly can. Lil Wayne is easily the worst offender. In 2008 alone, Lil Wayne was featured on 22 tracks, and the quality of his verses has been steadily decreasing, as his rhymes become repetitive and irrelevant. Gone are the days of Da Drought 3 when each line packed a punch and every track was guaranteed to impress. No matter what anyone says, the lines on No Ceilings don't even compare to Da Drought 3.
     Yet, somehow, consumers continue to buy Lil-Wayne-featured tracks. He has almost transcended ability, and is now entirely defined by his name. The name “Lil Wayne” carries enough weight to sell tracks, regardless of quality, and this can only be a bad thing for hip-hop.
     T-Pain is equally guilty. Since his first top 10 single (“I’m Sprung”), T-Pain has not done a single thing to advance his sound. As the pioneer of the auto-tune sound, which Kanye West, Lil Wayne, and the rest of the rap community so readily adopted, he has continued to be the most popular artist to grace a song’s chorus. From “Good Life” with Kanye West to “Low” with Flo-Rida and “Blame It” with Jamie Foxx, T-Pain is amazingly limited in his musical abilities, yet he continues to have his name attached to the most popular songs on the radio. Even a bad hip-hop video parody (“I’m on a Boat”) can’t slow T-Pain down.
    Features are smothering hip-hop. A lower caliber of lyricism is now acceptable, hurting the genre in the long run. If the over-saturation of low quality remixes continues, the future of the rap industry looks bleak.