If you’ve been following the atmospheric Internet-based cloud rap movement from the 2010s onward, someone you’ve probably heard of is Black Kray, also known as Sickboyrari. Black Kray, like abstract and alternative rapper MF DOOM, was bestowed the title of “your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper” online for their influence in the rap sphere. Black Kray, by staying authentic to his vision, has influenced not only the underground hip-hop sphere but art in general. This makes him someone to study artistically and historically. He is an important figure in modern pop culture that all art lovers should pay attention to and learn things from.
Black Kray is an American (or as he says, “Glimerican”) rapper from Richmond, Va. (what he calls “The Dirt Road”) who has an extensive discography. He started as a skater who would post his tricks on YouTube as a teen, but he also experimented with rapping by posting his material online and reposting music by people like influential southern rap producer DJ Screw and rapper Kreayshawn, whose name likely inspired Black Kray’s.
Black Kray has broken musical and social boundaries simply by expressing himself. He found refuge in the music he made, often rapping about sex, drugs and violence, as well as but also the horrible conditions of inner-city living, mental illness, abusive relationships and the pursuit of positivity within depression — all without overexplaining his emotions. In his music, which would soon gain a cult following, Kray normalized depression and even became an advocate for mental health and against bullying in his own way through his art and influence.
Your favorite rapper from the 2020s wouldn’t sound, look, nor market themselves online like they do without Black Kray; nor would they without the rapper who in turn influenced him and his flows. Kray, like Lil B, is a denizen of Internet expression and set the framework for music promotion online. He also influenced the VHS and early 2000s resurgence aesthetic with his music videos posted on YouTube as early as 2013, which has rippled all across Internet culture.
Kray also isn’t afraid to express his identity. For example, Kray typically throws around the word “goth” in his rapping. Although some people say that Kray isn’t a goth, he’s at the very least goth-aligned in the philosophical sense, which boils down to finding beauty, solace and positivity in what others view as negative. Kray’s music speaks to the idea that listeners may have become jaded. Take the dismal and unsettlingly melodic freestyle “Shorty 13 Onah Block” from Kray’s 2015 mixtape “Thug Angel.” It’s a short song that hits hard sonically with the piano and emotionally with candid and raw lyrics best heard instead of read. He prefaced the song by saying, “This some real art right here.”
Kray calling his freestyle “art” defies notions of rap not being a serious form of artistic expression. He refutes those who simplify the entire diverse, international and complex art of rap to misogynistic and hedonistic lyrics about capitalist expenditure, having sex and getting addicted to drugs. Rap, like any other art form, is an expression of humanity that shows the realities or imaginations of those who have lived. Kray is using his art to give a voice to the oppressed people who he shares a world with using the language taught from his experiences in a brutally honest way.
Another moment of gothic honesty is the intro to “Gvcci Speedboats,” the greatest rap skit of all time. In the skit, Kray’s amateur but vulnerable acting is between himself, a flippant client unwilling to change and a therapist who criticizes Kray’s life and wants him to pursue more positive endeavors. As a result, the comedy becomes emotionally meaningful. This could be interpreted as Kray’s mind and its inner workings trying to process his depression.
The most telling example of this gothic mindset, however, is the entire 2014 “City of Doves” mixtape. The production of the mixtape is truly deserving of the title “gothic trap,” with its mix of standard trap production, orchestral instrumentation and generally oppressive atmosphere. This is Kray at his most hopeless, especially at the song “5130,” but even within this depression he still raps about needing positivity and finding hope within a seemingly bleak situation.
It would be easy for detractors to pass Black Kray off on a surface level as “braindead rap music,” but Kray is telling emotionally charged inner-city stories and experiences rife with toxicity and negativity in a candid fashion. He has come a long way, shining the entire time and illuminating the lives of many silenced and oppressed people while pushing boundaries in the process. His 2010s material may not be the most polished, but whether you like his music or not, his authentic art will forever be culturally significant and emotionally important to many.