The 20 Greatest Musical Geniuses Since '93

When we debuted our April/May double covers of Kendrick Lamar and Miguel yesterday on these here Internets, there was much excitement about the pairing of hip-hop and R&B’s leaders of the new cool. But there was also some chatter about what exactly comprises a “List Issue” and ready-to-go debates on the cover line pitting R. Kelly’s musical brilliance against Kanye West’s 20/20 artistic vision. That’s where this definitive list comes in, anchoring the issue and highlighting the 20 minds that have provided the greatest push to music since '93.

Determined to spark deep thought and emerge with definitive rankings,NAZ’s debate squad brainstormed an entire feature well of lists and spent a sweatshop worth of hours in a war room, strapped with 20 years of facts and verbal PowerPoints. We defined “genius” as infinitely creative artists and producers (no executives) able to alter the course of music, and we posed scenarios like: If we plopped that genius in a studio solo, would he/she resurface with something radical?

Click through to see our definitive selections, along with commentary from their contemporaries or successors. Look out for the Top 10 dropping tomorrow (April 11).

20. LIL WAYNE

An example of Lil Wayne’s brain being extraterrestrial came on December 16, 2010, when his comeback single “6 Foot 7 Foot” left rap heads in a collective stupor with: "Bitch, real Gs move in silence like lasagna." There was confusion, followed by a-ha’s, followed by dictionaries dusted off to confirm if the “g” in “lasagna” is in fact silent (confirmed).

It’s this sharp inventiveness that’s elevated Dwayne Carter from Cash Money minor to lyrical miracle. He’s a real-life rap goblin whose home is the recording booth—a living, breathing, codeine-sipping case study for Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours theory. Music simply pours from Weezy’s pores, whether punch line jabbing (“Go DJ"), Auto-Tune crooning (“Lollipop”) or rock invading (Rebirth). Meanwhile, Wayne’s Martian eyes and ears have helped him scope out his own young brilliance, seeing Drake’s and Nicki Minaj’s visions perhaps before they’d seen their own. Clearly, the “g” in this genius is not silent.

Bun B, rapper and collaborator says:
“I always thought Lil Wayne had a good approach to rhyme. I was mainly impressed by his vocabulary. Early in his career, his mother didn’t allow him to curse on records, so he had to work very hard to get his point across. That helped contribute to his lyrical dexterity in the long run. When Wayne was younger, Baby would ask how Wayne could have a career with longevity and respect: How do we make him great? My answer was to let him live in the studio. The more time he spends there, the more everything else feels foreign. He’s stuck to that.” 

19. DAFT PUNK

With fist-pumping trancy tracks like “Da Funk,” “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger,” and “Technologic,” French dance duo Daft Punk (Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter) fused house, funk, electro, and disco-derived techno to create its own brand of retro-futuristic robo rock. With a visual presentation (pulsing laser pyramid, robot costumes, Lite-Brite backdrop) as iconic now as the music it illuminated, DP produced some of the most memorable videos and tours of all time. Their strobe-like anthems are more than universal rave fuel; they helped shepherd house music from warehouse parties to the pinnacle of the pop charts. By the new millennium, both mainstream artists and the masses were embracing EDM’s arcade effects and spacey synths. Even more, Daft Punk revved up the Auto-Tune revolution and found its way onto countless hip-hop hits—from Busta’s “Touch It” to Kanye’s “Stronger” to N.E.R.D.’s “Hypnotize You.” Now that’s good aural.

Afrojack, DJ, says:
“Daft Punk is basically considered the birth of EDM. They were the first artists to go on full production tours, taking electronic music to the next level. They have truly inspired the current generation of EDM producers, including myself, in the widest form of the genre. Daft Punk has proven that electronic music can be integrated into multiple forms of entertainment, going above and beyond to break the mold of our music genre. As they continue to create tracks that blow audiences away, they’ll also continue being a driving force and legend behind not just EDM, but electronic music as a whole.”

18. TUPAC SHAKUR

Tupac Shakur, the world’s most controversial and beloved MC was as much an enigma as he was a Renaissance man (activist, thespian, poet). His writing was as brash, bold and brutally honest as he was. Never afraid to hit ‘em up, Shakur repped the disenfranchised (“Pour Out a Little Liquor”), broke down the love of a son aware of his mother’s strengths and weaknesses (“Dear Mama”), and advocated social consciousness with stark realism (“Brenda’s Got a Baby”).

‘Pac got women to love his thug passion, and men to embrace his Thug Life. It was this universal love that allowed him to not only become the first rapper to release a full-length double disc (All Eyez on Me), but sell five-times platinum in two months. His body of work united and transcended generations across the globe, rippling from the favelas of Brazil to the MARTa Museum in Germany, where his statue stands. The Black Panther Party never made as great an impact.

Scarface, rapper and friend of Tupac says:
“I would be in the studio all day, all night. [Pac] would come in like ‘C’mon nigga, let’s go.’ And I’d be like ‘Pac I’m not going no where with you. I’m working on my shit.’ And he would get so furious because it took me so long to make my songs. He’d say, ‘You taking too motherfucking long 'cause you’re trying to find singles. Just make records and the single would come.’ He’d say, ‘Brad, you got to get across to these bitches without offending them. And the niggas want what the bitches want.’ Pac had the perfect combination. He was a phenom; and he never really died.”

 

17. EMINEM

Eminem’s introduction seemed friendly enough—“Hi, My Name Is”—with its cheap shots at pop stars and resentful digs at Momma Mathers. Yet his debut album’s “Guilty Conscience” more accurately carved out Slim Shady’s appeal: that trailer-park-bred mini devil hovering above either shoulder, whispering weenie jokes and ex-wife murder plots via manic flows and maniacal puns.

The damage control of Vanilla Ice’s Caucasian credibility void was impossible without an MC of Em’s surgical syllable play and deep-end imagination. But Marshall’s stanzas are too hilariously audacious, too masterful, to discount. He’s beloved when playing underdog (i.e. “Lose Yourself,” rap’s new millennium Rocky theme), yet when the 8 Mile spitter owns his position as rap’s most polarizing figure since Tupac, he thrives (“Stan” and “The Way I Am” are both jarring explorations of Mathers’ afflictions with superstardom). Building on the tradition of Luther Campbell and Eazy-E with 24K bars, Em has become a once-every-generation antagonist. And that takes serious brainpower.

Yelawolf, Shady Records recording artist says:
“Marshall’s studio is littered with comic books. And I think that has a great deal to do with how he approaches lyrics: He’s focused on doing the impossible. He makes the most simple things sound complex. He takes everyday words and knows how to rhyme every single syllable. Anyone could do that and have it sound like gibberish. But to say something specific about a particular subject and add in punch lines and metaphors,
it’s impressive. He has inhuman capabilities. When I was in a cipher with him and Slaughterhouse [at the 2011 BET Hip-Hop Awards], he was robotic, almost. He has pure what-the-fuck moments.”

16. ERYKAH BADU

When Erica Wright of Dallas, Texas, introduced herself to the world as Erykah Badu with her debut album, Baduizm, and assortment of ankhs, head wraps and incense, she was improperly cast as neosoul trailblazer. She was certainly fresh, but hardly new. Her voice channeled Billie Holiday, her artistic sensibility rivaled Ma Rainey’s and her sound was thrift shop (sorry, Macklemore) compared to Diddy’s shiny suit.

Ms. Badu wasn’t a relic, by any means. One call to “Tyrone” would confirm that. Yet as the self-proclaimed analog girl in a digital world, the soultress not only eschewed Auto-Tune for pitch effect, she refused to hide behind a celebrity veneer. Her personal relationships (Andre 3000, Common, Jay Electronica) played out in public, she admitted to a bout of writer’s block (The Frustrated Artist tour) and her art—from Mama’s Gun to her New Ameryka series—was all the better for it. MILF’ing ain’t easy.

Gary Clark Jr., Rock ‘n soul singer/guitarist and fellow Texan
“I don't really know where to start when it comes to the lovely Erykah Badu. I don't think anyone could have ever felt we needed to look to the sky to find an extraterrestrial source for holding listeners grounded into the soul of this earth. She is the Godmother of Soul these days, a neighbor and family. The way she has been able to hold it down in such a genuine way is something I've always looked up to. [My] entire crew has mad respect for her.

15. NAS

Let’s just get this out of the way: Nas’ debut album Illmatic was not only a flawless, stark portrait of life in New York City PJ’s, it was one of the most important albums ever. Unprecedented since Rakim eight years prior, the artist, formerly known as Nasty Nas, taught rap how to rap. He’s danced for the street (“Made You Look”), backpackers (“Sly Fox”) and pop charts (“I Can”) with a ballerina’s grace, wrote songs from unchartered perspectives that were greater than average rapper’s entire LPs (“I Gave You Power”) and shared thug tales via intricate innovation, whether with reverse chronology (“Rewind”) or shots of adrenaline (“One Mic”). Yet the unpackaging of those lyrical gifts are half the fun. The masterful writings of Nasir Jones offer metaphor, foreshadowing, visuals, outer and inner conflict, irony and sobering social analysis about the plight of brown people across the globe.

Common, rapper and collaborator says:
“I recognized Nas being genius when I heard him rap over some Large Professor
beats on Stretch [Armstrong] and Bobbito [Garcia’s] show; some ended up being on Illmatic. The imagery he created with words put me in the mind-set of a James Baldwin or Maya Angelou, poets that I’d read to get inspired by. His storytelling is phenomenal. I’ve never heard anyone capture the essence of the ghetto and bring elevation and intelligence, and make it sound great. He led a generation of rappers that weren’t rapping like that until they heard him—including me.”

14. OUTKAST

OutKast is the embodiment of a clash with conformity. Big Boi and Andre 3000’s collective name doubles as a mission statement, explaining why the Atlanta duo’s Southern-fried classics hover miles away from anything on the FM dial. They play hopscotch with genre boxes—colliding drum 'n’ bass with a gospel choir on “B.O.B.,” injecting ho-down harmonica into “Rosa Parks,” lifting Patti LaBelle with mammoth bass on “Ghetto Musick” (nearly a decade before Avicii and Flo Rida made Etta James’ vocals fist-pump appropriate).

Yet ’Kast’s true brilliance lies in its dichotomy. Big ’s pimp juice purees smoothly with Andre’s Mars bars and courageous melodies (Kanye’s fully crooned 808s & Heartbreak is a direct descendent of 3 Stacks’ The Love Below), forming a rich synergy that goes down as easy as Susie Screw. While the group has grown apart internally, the gap will never be as wide as the distance it created outpacing contemporaries.

Big K.R.I.T., southern rapper says:
“They weren’t willing to be put into a box. They experimented in a time when funk and psychedelic music might not have been cool; that made me proud to be Southern, to do whatever I want creatively. Big Boi was more of the player, while Andre was the revolutionary. But they were able to talk about whatever they wanted to. Lyrically, they’re so in-tune with society; they made music for the people, dropping their own jewels of knowledge. And their wordplay was so clever that it never got old to listen to. That’s what makes them two of the top lyricists ever.”

13. RICK RUBIN

With his Woolly beard and eccentric mannerisms, Rick Rubin may resemble a cult leader. But the veteran producer and American Recordings label head is really a music deity whose studio reach extends to hip-hop, heavy metal, country, rock, and beyond. As if the New York native’s groundbreaking '80s run as founder of rap’s most influential label Def Jam wasn’t enough to secure his legacy, the man who supplied Run-DMC’s signature guitar-fueled bigbeat and signed endless game-changing MC’s, starting with LL Cool J, clearly desired more.

By 1991, Rubin switched it up, producing the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ commercial breakthrough Blood Sugar Sex Magik and 1994’s Grammy-winning comeback album by the Man in Black himself Johnny Cash. Nine years later the mercurial mind would supply Jay-Z with the throwback rock-rap mash-up “99 Problems,” then produce on 2012’s best-selling album, Adele’s 21, nine years after that. None of this should come as a surprise.

DJ Premier, producer and DJ, one half of Gang Starr says:
“Rick Rubin’s range is genius. To be a white guy stepping into a black man’s world of ghetto music at that time was really unheard of unless you were an executive. But Rick was more than that. He was a guy in an [NYU] dorm room who believed that this new hip-hop sound was going to go places. [Then Rubin] stepping out of hip-hop and messing with Johnny Cash to Red Hot Chili Peppers to the Dixie Chicks is a no-brainer
for him because he understands that there are no boundaries in music.”

12. D'ANGELO

It can be said that the genius of Michael D’Angelo Archer began at age 3 when he was discovered tickling the family piano. Decades later, Virginia’s sugar man played and arranged his own percussion, keyboard, guitar and, of course, piano to introduce himself (with blunt between ear and cornrow) via one of the finest opuses ever. The music was such a higher power that competition remained off the radar. D would satellite hip-hop–the all-consuming “Lady (Remix)” with DJ Premier and AZ, GZA’s icey “Cold World”—and then, like many of history’s great music minds, vanish. Once reappeared, though, whether to elevate a Common or Snoop track, or deliver his own Grammy-acclaimed LP, the results were always extraterrestrial.

It can also be said that D’Angelo was at his most genius when honoring genius. While in front of Paul Hunter’s lens, wailing like Prince, D put some skin in the game. His simplest decision ended up his smartest.

Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson, bandleader of the Roots, producer, DJ, percussionist and collaborator says:
“D’Angelo’s a true artist at heart. No matter how much I try to bash him in the head with records, every day the conversation is, 'How did you let me make 13 albums to your one album?' But that’s him. He doesn’t create music unless he’s totally moved and motivated to. Like I’m a machine, I’m a worker, but music is a spiritual thing to him. He can’t be forced to make it come before its time. I’m not suffering like the rest of the world 'cause I know what the [upcoming album] will sound like. But I will say, it’s truly a work of  art..

 

11. PHARRELL

It was inevitable that the sci-fi loving jazz nerd from Virginia Beach would propel hip-hop into a gravity-free zone. With Timbaland having led the sound of production into the future, The Neptunes took it to space, with Pharrell beaming in refined synth melodies that launched the careers of The Clipse and Kelis. But Pha-Real’s the whole package—his songwriting and masterminding is a product of his school-band past. His indelible falsetto melodies could seduce a nun into a series of bad habits, his rock-band acumen imbued funkiness into Fred Durst-inspired projects, his Don-Draper-aloof raps even made Snoop sound enthused. And he's kept his cool the entire time. Always on the edge between uptown and downtown, Skateboard P bridges genres as effortlessly as his fashion style combines high art and street smarts. No wonder Jay-Z has called no other “genius” more than he has this N.E.R.D.

Miguel, singer, songwriter, collaborator says:
“What’s crazy about Pharrell is his ability to take what he loves—jazz music—and incorporate it. “Grindin” is his only beat that didn’t have some remnants of jazz progres- sion or chord structure, but still, he has the ability to really assimilate a lot of diligence on his programming. He’s one of those artists that always walked the line of commercial relatability without compromising artistic integrity. He’ll give you substance but make it palatable and desirable. That’s a shoe mark of genius: the ability to put a steak inside of a Happy Meal box. I love his shit.”