Remembering DMX

Friday morning, the family of DMX announced the rapper passed away at 50. Like most children born in the mid-90s, I first listened to DMX as a child. I sat in the backseat of my aunt’s Volkswagen as she blasted “Party Up.” She sang along with DMX as if it were therapeutic, as if he knew what she was going through.

DMX gained national attention in the late 90s through hard-hitting features on tracks like “Money, Power, Respect.” His lyrics challenged respectability and showed no remorse. “Do you value your life as much as your possessions, don’t be a stupid nigga, learn a lesson”, he passionately says on LL Cool J’s “1,2,3,4.”

Those features sparked a solo career that few could rival. His release of three albums in two years, including his best-selling project, “…and then there was X”, remains unprecedented. DMX’s voice stood out because it represented a push against the trend. In the late nineties hip-hop had become more commercial with an increasing emphasis on materialism and chauvinism.

DMX struck a balance between ruthlessness and repentance on tracks that showed a man in conflict. His frequent use of religion displayed a man trapped between where he’s been and where he wants to go. This constant struggle between good and evil was on full display in his music. One moment he will stop at nothing to destroy his enemies, only to ask for forgiveness. “Devil I rebuke you, for what I go through, been tryna make me do what I used to” he emotionally says on “Lord Give Me a Sign.” Nothing was off-limits for DMX, unapologetically telling listeners his past and his desire to move beyond it.

Musically, I will remember DMX for his ability to leave his imprint on tracks. Jay-Z’s 1998 song “Money, Cash, Hoes’’ features an aggressive beat that contrasts Hov’s laid-back style. The song is elevated by DMX ad-libbing over the hook. He fiercely yells, “WHAT”, “COME ON’’, and “UH” to make the song feel complete. Most rappers use tough lyrics for stylistic purposes that rarely have substance. DMX’s voice brought an authenticity that made every word feel real, no matter how horrific.

DMX also shines in a limited role in Aaliyah’s “Back in One Piece.” Even on R&B songs, he found a way to bring his unique edge. He skillfully knew when to add aggressive ad-libs and when to rely on tone and timing to compliment Aaliyah. DMX’s first line stands out as I reflect on his passing. “Baby I am what I am, I’m gon’ be who I be” he ruggedly says. DMX fully embodied that line in his rapping. He never adjusted himself or content for anyone, demanding we took him as he was.

It is hard not to see DMX and think of others. He grew up in an abusive home and found comfort in stray dogs that roamed the neighborhood. His love for hip-hop grew at a local boy’s home, where he bonded with others over their shared love for the genre.

His battle with substance abuse is something many know firsthand. It reminds us that addiction is an illness that lingers over so many, with some never able to escape from it. Sadly, some demons have a permanent hold on us. DMX took his pain and brought it to the masses. He presented his flaws and scars to the world. He admitted he wasn’t perfect but never let it dissuade him from wanting and believing in something greater.

What sings most about DMX’s passing is that he wasn’t able to live a full life like Cicely Tyson. His passing hurts because he had more life to live. Hopefully, his soul now has the peace he was always searching for in his music.