The place that produced Jay Z and Biggie Smalls has lost some of its influence to the south and other New York boroughs like Manhattan, but is it a case of the mainstream not being able to keep up?

New York City contains some half-dozen rap ecosystems. Each individually can rival most any other US city for hip-hop supremacy. Rappers from Queens, the home of Run-DMC, A Tribe Called Quest, Nas and 50 Cent, have always had a little more style, a little more flair, while Harlem emcees (Diddy, Big L, Dipset, A$AP Rocky) can be flossy but don’t mess around. The Bronx, of course, has the originals DJ Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, Grandmaster Flash, and KRS-One, while just outside the city Long Island boasts great rap innovators like Public Enemy, Eric B & Rakim, De La Soul and EPMD.

Staten Island, of course, has the Wu-Tang Clan, but some of the group’s members grew up in Brooklyn, which has traditionally been known for its gritty beats, brutal imagery and started-from-the-bottom story lines. As favorite son Biggie Smalls rapped on Jay Z’s Brooklyn’s Finest: “My Bed-Stuy flow’s malicious, delicious/ Fuck three wishes, made my road to riches.”

To paraphrase Jay Z: Brooklyn goes hard. Perhaps too hard for the mainstream these days

The list of classic Brooklyn acts is way too long to list here, but also includes Big Daddy Kane, Special Ed, Fat Boys, Masta Ace, AZ, OC, MCA from the Beastie Boys, Black Moon and the whole Boot Camp Clik, Jeru tha Damaja, Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Gang Starr, Foxy Brown, MC Lyte, Fabolous, Jean Grae, MOP and Joell Ortiz. Many of the borough’s greats made hip-hop for hip-hop heads, using punishing bars to pay homage to their simultaneously dangerous and vibrant home. With its chaotic projects, stately brownstones, incredible diversity and bustling industry, frenzied-but-alluring Brooklyn has been described more vividly in hip-hop than just about any other part of the world.

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Of course, as Manhattan has priced out all but the super-wealthy, Brooklyn gentrification has been proceeding apace for years now, and on many corners you’re less likely to find drug dealers than artisanal mayo. So perhaps it’s no coincidence Brooklyn hasn’t been churning out the hard-banging hits. The decline of New York hip-hop has been well-documented (although just about every time the city is counted out, it makes a comeback), but Brooklyn is its own case. The borough led the charge in the late 80s and 90s, but since then it has slowly faded in relevance.

There are exceptions, of course. One half of critically beloved duo Run the Jewels is El-P, who has been on the cutting edge since the 90s with his trio Company Flow and label Definitive Jux. Joey Bada$$ is single-handedly keeping the boom-bap tradition alive for many younger listeners, and his affiliated Pro Era crew features numerous dynamic MCs and producers as well. Haunting verses by Brownsville’s Ka haunting verses epitomize what’s glorious about Brooklyn rap, as does the exuberant Mr Muthafuckin’ eXquire. Troy Ave has been steadily building his name, though his recent seemingly less-than-stellar first week sales numbers were much discussed. BK talents like The Underachievers, Skyzoo, The Incomparable Shakespeare and Nitty Scott, MC are forces to be reckoned with.

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As shown by these artists, Brooklyn rap refuses to be boxed in by the latest trends. Unlike just about anywhere else, the borough continues to resist breezy, dancefloor beats. That’s in contrast to Harlem stars A$AP Rocky – who rose to prominence with a clearly southern-influenced, mainstream sound – and Azealia Banks, who also isn’t afraid to keep things uptempo. The Brooklyn rappers, however, tend to pay homage to the greats that came before them, in their focus on dense, lyrical work that bangs rather than bounces. Unfortunately, as the hip-hop landscape has shifted, these types of compositions aren’t often inviting to casual fans. To paraphrase Jay Z: Brooklyn goes hard. Perhaps too hard for the mainstream these days.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this. In fact, such purity is a revelation in an industry where everybody seems determined to sound like everybody else. And one suspects that Brooklyn hip-hop will indeed again have its day in the sun. But that will happen only after the industry again starts sounding like it, rather than the other way around.