CATHEDRAL BUILDERS, NOT STONECUTTERS
Iphigene Sulzberger was the daughter and only child of Adolph Ochs, who, in 1896, became the owner of the declining New York Times newspaper for $75,000. Like all men who build kingdoms intending for them to survive the decay of time, Ochs knew there had to be standards set and ideologies enforced to preserve, even from beyond the grave, The New York Times as he envisioned it.
By the end of his life at 77, Adolph Ochs had spent 39 of those years rebuilding The Times as a profitable publication without compromising morals for money. One particular philosophy, giving the news impartially, without fear or favor, became essential to the rebranded identity of a lifeless newspaper revived as a benchmark of clean, dignified, and trustworthy journalism for thoughtful, pure-minded people.
As author Gay Talese reveals in The Kingdom and The Power, his bestselling exposé on The New York Times, Ochs thought obsessively about The Times future. This excerpt frames the fear of an emperor who understands the fate of his empire is ultimately not in his hands:
“Nothing would crumble his foundation faster than family squabbles, selfish ambition, or shortsighted goals. His successors would have to make money but not be enticed by it, would have to keep up with trends but not be carried away by them, would have to hire talented people but not so talented or egocentric that they could become too special as writers or indispensable as editors. Nobody could be indispensable on The New York Times, including Ochs.”
How The Times grew from one man’s unshifting views on a fearless and unfavored journalism curated by a staff who turned that credo into a substantial business is similar to how independent record labels grow from specific ideals by record executives and the artists they choose to align with.
For example, when I think of a trusted label that has moved with dignity and thoughtfulness, Top Dawg Entertainment comes to mind. They were once a record company releasing unknown and underground, causing no effect on the waves and tides of mainstream music. They were able to transition from unknown and underground to multi-platinum powerhouse by being selective with the artists they signed, carefully developing the potential of promising stars, and operating with intentions that matched a brand rooted in slow elevation and not sudden explosions.
As a record executive, label founder Anthony “Top Dawg” Tiffifth, much like Adolph Ochs, approached music with a dynasty mentality. The Black Hippy quartet―Kendrick Lamar, ScHoolboy Q, Ab-Soul, and Jay Rock―all were introduced with their own identities, personalities, styles, and backstories.
Even early on, the label didn’t have the makings of a trend-hopping, money-chasing, ego-driven factory of empty creators with soulless music. If they were, the connection between fans and artists would not feel as personable.
Establishing who you are and what you stand for early on has been crucial for record companies dating back to iconic labels like Diddy’s Bad Boy to Master P’s No Limit. Revisiting music journalist Andrew Noz’s Black Hippy interview from 2012, there’s two specific points that I want to reference:
Kendrick telling Noz that Top Dawg has had them in the same home studio for seven years, “Perfecting the craft.”
Top Dawg’s five-point plan on what is needed to be a rap star: “Charisma, Substance, Lyrics, Uniqueness, and Work Ethic.”
One could argue that TDE was able to make the strides that brought their global veneration because they based their business acumen on slow preparation and carefully curating new acts to be rap stars in the image they decided. Gay Talese wrote the genius of Adolph Ochs had been not only in the type of newspaper he created but in the fact that he had made such a newspaper profitable.
The same can be said for labels able to break artists who have great music but aren't following the hot trend of the moment. That’s a longer route, some will say, but the reward extends careers and builds fan bases that are invested in the art, the artists, and the brand of music the label builds their name upon.
There’s a relevant parable in The Kingdom and The Power that Iphigene Sulzberger would share as an example of what made The New York Times staff so formidable even after her father’s death. The story is about a curious traveler who meets three stonecutters along a road one day. One by one each person is asked what they are doing. The first stonecutter says, “I am cutting stone.” The second stonecutter, when the question is repeated, replies, “I am making a corner stone.” But when the question is asked of the third stonecutter, he answers, “I am building a cathedral.”
TDE came to mind as a record label of cathedral builders. The albums that became the foundation for their careers have been churches that listeners have lived in, thus creating a trusted brand. Not every release has lived up to the expectations created by the quality music that made them the most exciting new label of the 2010s, but by the end of the decade, the label as a collective had successfully proved how their brand of rap stardom could sell records and move culture.
They did it with all of Black Hippy, then Isaiah Rashad and SZA, then you have SiR, and the still developing Reason, all acts that went from nameless to varying degrees of stardom. TDE has to be mentioned as a modern Hip Hop kingdom. After last decade proved they could build a successful empire, this decade is where another ten years of hits, classics, and not falling in any of the traps that accelerate decay and cause downfall, will solidify them as a historic rap dynasty.
Knowing how big the expectations are around their biggest acts, there’s plenty of room for the pressure to affect their current trajectory. But proving themselves to be sustainable in an era of constant changes and crumbling castles is how they’ll become, as Gay Talese described The New York Times, solid and unshakeable.