This week, maximalist rap fans rejoiced at news of several forthcoming albums. This Friday brought Pusha T’s It’s Almost Dry; April 29 brings Future; May 5 sees the release of Jack Harlow’s Come Home the Kids Miss You; May 12 heralds Kendrick Lamar’s Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers; and May 19 elicits Young Thug’s Slime Season 4. Coupled with a timely GQ cover drop written by Elliott Wilson, the activity generated the usual debates about who deserves the title “the best rapper alive.”

Wilson’s argument is that Future has had the most impact over the past decade. “When you survey the hip-hop landscape, no other artist has been as consistently excellent, or as influential, for as long as he has,” he writes. “He invented his own sound, which has since become the dominant style in rap. He has delivered hit after hit after hit. And he’s done it all on his own terms.”

Yet later in the story, Wilson – an excellent writer whose lengthy career includes a memorable run as editor-in-chief of XXL in the Aughts and who currently oversees content for Tidal – undermines his declaration. He acknowledges that Future’s 2020 projects High off Life and Pluto x Baby Pluto were disappointments. In fact, one could make the argument that Future hasn’t made a consistently interesting album since his 2017 1-2 punch, Future and Hndrxx. Wilson’s premise seems less about who is the best rapper right now, and more about who is the best rapper of this era, namely the melodic rap style that continues to define the mainstream.

Conversations around the best rapper have evolved over the decades. In the 80s and 90s, it centered on who was the most exciting rapper at a given moment, regardless of whether that person crafted excellent material. I remember when some folks considered Canibus a “best rapper” candidate strictly off a superior 12-inch single, “Second Round K.O. / How We Roll,” and a handful of strong cameos. (His clumsy 1998 debut album, Can-I-Bus, killed that chatter.) Sometimes it has meant the rapper who controls the Zeitgeist, like Jay-Z and Lil Wayne; other times it has meant the rapper with the most hits, like Drake.

Today, it translates into a Mount Rushmore-type of argument. For the past several years, Complex has anointed a “Best Rapper Alive” award that’s akin to Artist of the Year. Tyler, the Creator earned the honor in 2021. (Runners up were Kanye West – laughable since Kanye has never been considered an top vocalist – J. Cole, and Mach-Hommy.) Tyler is a decent rapper with a great voice, but he’s hardly known for incredible bars, cadence and flow. His aesthetic power results from a visceral blend of production, musical concepts, and songcraft. Meanwhile, truly inventive vocal stylists are rarely considered, usually because they’re haplessly underground (Boldy James, KA, Earl Sweatshirt), too niche (RXK Nephew, Babyface Ray, Larry June), or, sad to say, too female (Doja Cat, Megan Thee Stallion, Noname). To be fair, Lil Baby earned Complex‘s honor in 2020 with a worthy mix of vocal innovation and a superior hit album in My Turn.

A final observation: notice how the “best rapper alive” candidates are usually in their 30s and 40s? Even Tyler is 31. These days, it apparently takes years of accumulating institutional credibility, record sales and social-media hives before one can be considered for the honor. Perhaps the days when fans argued over the superior merits of twentysomething sensations like Nas, the Notorious B.I.G. and 2Pac are long past.