From: www.theroot.com

There are problems with this BBC piece. For one, it approaches hip-hop as if it's an artifact and not a living and breathing entity.

It does nothing to place Conzo's story in a modern-day context. But more than that, the piece isn't as much about hip-hop growing up as growing old. Hip-hop is deep in its third decade of existence. It spans generations. But to suggest that it's grown up in this time is to assume a maturing that hasn't exactly happened.

Sure, a small handful of artists have managed to mature creatively, (Scarface immediately leaps to mind) but most rap artists who are heralded as "mature" are simply miming growth. "Grown man" rappers like Jay-Z or Common are only mature in the absence of immaturity. They are acclaimed for what they don't rap about—namely drugs and violence (the new "off that" mentality only reinforces the culture's widening generational rift).

Jay-Z brags endlessly about texts from President Barack Obama, but he never discusses the content of said messages, let alone seriously consider a health care plan. Jay is Tom Hanks in Big, flopping around awkwardly in a new suit. And the grand irony is that these gestures are mostly wasted. Hip-hop is and forever will be youth music, regardless of how many aging rappers do or do not end up on Oprah's couch. The only people who expect maturity from it are outsiders, those who were never involved in the first place, or those who have grown so far from hip-hop that they no longer need it.

And yes, hip-hop is still a culture, but as soon as it expanded beyond the Bronx it ceased to be a monolithic. Every major American city had their own take on the Sugar Hill/Kool Herc formulas. As these local scenes have continued to mutate, many of them have grown unrecognizable to even the most ardent of true school hip-hop heads.