Editor’s note: The following article is an op-ed, and the views expressed are the author’s own. Read more opinions on theGrio.
On Friday (Dec. 12), hip-hop fans were gifted with an album 30 years in the making (and waiting): a collaborative album between hip-hop legends, rapper Nas and producer DJ Premier titled “Light-Years.”
Both Nas and DJ Premier are on hip-hop’s Mt. Rushmore, especially for those of us who came up listening to hip-hop in the 1990s. Nas’ debut album, “Illmatic,” has long been considered one of the best albums ever released in hip-hop history and Premier’s run in the 1990s—producing for not only his group, Gang Starr, but the myriad one-off records he did with everybody from Jay-Z to Eminem to Snoop Dogg to Christina Aguilera—made him one of the most sought after beatsmiths of the era, landing him in every conversation about who the best hip-hop producers were alongside artists like Dr. Dre, Timbaland and Pete Rock. Make no mistake, both Nas and Premier’s careers aren’t limited to the 90s; both artists have been a mainstay in the hip-hop landscape through today.
As most hip-hop fans are wont to do, when we find collaborators who seem to gel, we want more of that thing, especially when what’s been created feels heaven-sent. Collaborations between Nas and DJ Premier have long been the gold standard. “Illmatic” featured the songs “NY State of Mind,” “Memory Lane,” and “Represent,” and subsequent offerings like “2nd Childhood” and “I Gave You Power,” were event-listening on Nas’ albums. I still remember exactly where I was the first time I heard “Nas Is Like” in 1998 on the steps of Spelman College’s Lower Manley, though the record was “officially” released in early 1999. Their combo was that potent.
Naturally, every hip-hop fan wanted a joint album between the two, and rumors long persisted of a collaborative effort, though I don’t know if that was us doing the ’90s version of manifesting or if industry chatter that made it into the trades suggested there could be an album coming.
Well, it’s the year of our lord 2025 and the hip-hop gawds have answered, albeit as late as hell. “Light-Years” delivers 15 records from Nas and Premier, who we met when they were in their 20s, and are now both solidly in their 50s and elder statesmen in the game. Listening to the album on repeat, as I have done, has brought up a lot of thoughts and reflections about how we listen to and appreciate legends, but also how we consume hip-hop in general, especially since most people view hip-hop as a young man’s sport.
For instance, and I say this without any joy, neither Nas nor Premier are at their level best. This album feels more like two legends with nothing to prove, finally doing that thing they’ve been meaning to do for years now that they’re both free and somebody brought wine. There’s not a single beat on this album that would be confused with one of Premier’s best productions and Nas’ verses are more enjoyable than they are amazing.
There are some gems on here for sure. “Pause Tape,” for instance, is some vintage, masterclass-level Nas storytelling, reminiscent of “Get Down,” the seminal opening number from “God’s Son.” “3rd Childhood”—the grown man follow up to “2nd Childhood” on “Stillmatic—is Nas being reflective and discussing what it’s like to be one of the few who actually get to age in hip-hop. I will say I did not have Nasir Jones doing “finance bro” jingles on my bingo card ever, but sure as shootin’, that’s exactly what “GiT Ready” sounds like to me.
But honestly, how “good” it is or how it compares to who they both were in the past is where I start to get reflective. DJ Premier, for instance, has crafted some of hip-hop’s best sound beds; I am STILL in awe of songs like “Moment of Truth” and “Mass Appeal” by Gang Starr, “The Sixth Sense” by Common or “Return of the Crooklyn Dodgers.” Those beats are so good that, to me, it doesn’t matter when they’d be released, they would move the same. The beats on “Light-Years” don’t have that same immediate hook; they’re more for the culture than they are trying to ensure that people respect who Premier is; that respect is already cemented—his jersey is already hanging in the rafters.
Also, Nas has been known to be a less-than-stellar A&R for his own projects, though fans of his many collaborations with Hit-Boy tend to feel different. I also tend to believe that Premier knows that nothing on this album compares to his previous work. But then again, should it?
For one, music has changed so much and this is an album for the fans; I doubt Nas and Premier were trying to drop the GOAT hip-hop album. Comparing two legends to who they were on the way to that status feels unfair and ultimately shortchanges me from enjoying the album. Plus, I can just go back and listen to the stuff that moves my spirit, should I need to.
Which gets to expectations…and Nas.
Again, Nas is in the rafters, but Nas has been rich and happy for years. I think it’s hard to be the GOAT rapper when you literally have nothing to aim for. When all of your peers acknowledge who you are, what keeps you motivated? I feel like rappers like Jay-Z and Ice Cube and Eminem had that problem. Most of them fought for respect early, but at some point, we all agreed with them that they were as good as it gets. Unless you’re Michael Jordan or Kanye West and can manufacture enemies, remaining at your creative peak is difficult.
Nas is good on this album, but he’s not special. I couldn’t give this album to a 20-year-old and say this guy right here is the greatest rapper to ever do it and it makes sense to them. This guy can rap, for sure. And is still better than most, by default. But the 20-year-old who penned “N.Y. State of Mind” is in a whole different world and space now.
Nas wasn’t the rapper who did the intricate stuff that Eminem was doing, he was just a better writer than everybody else and executed his worldview to perfection. It’s hard to say he lost a step because I don’t think that’s true, it’s just that I think I’m just at the appreciation aspect of artists like Nas and Premier.
Ultimately, that’s my main takeaway—I’m thankful that landmark artists like Nas and Premier can make an album in 2025 that exists and is worth talking about. Hip-hop has historically not been good to its elders, but over the past few years, we’ve seen legacy acts still contributing offerings that not only move the needle but ensure that the culture keeps moving in the right direction.
When Pete Rock and Common dropped “The Auditorium Vol. 1” we all clapped because they both sounded inspired and motivated but mostly we were glad they were still doing that thing they loved that we loved that they did. This year, De La Soul—minus Dave “Trugoy” Jolicoeur who unfortunately passed away RIGHT as the group FINALLY got their master back and could re-gift their early works to the masses via streaming including classics “3 Feet High & Rising” “De La Soul is Dead”—dropped the album “Cabin In the Sky” showcasing the same thing that “Light-Years” does, that they also still have it and can deliver a listenable, enjoyable product. No surprise…the album was released via Nas’ own Mass Appeal Records.
Look, I won’t lie and pretend that I think or thought “Light-Years” was going to be anywhere as pivotal or legendary as Nas’ “Illmatic” or Gang Starr’s “Moment of Truth” but it’s an album for hip-hop fans to appreciate, enjoy and bump while acknowledging that two of the greatest ever to do it are still able to eat from hip-hop. I’m a hip-hop fan who appreciates it, will enjoy it and bump it while acknowledging that two of the greatest ever to do it showed up. Plus, I already got “Nas Is Like” if I need to remember 1999.
It’s 2025, and Nas and Premier are still light-years ahead of the game.
Panama Jackson is a columnist at theGrio and host of the award-winning podcast, “Dear Culture” on theGrio Black Podcast Network. He writes very Black things, drinks very brown liquors, and is pretty fly for a light guy. His biggest accomplishment to date coincides with his Blackest accomplishment to date in that he received a phone call from Oprah Winfrey after she read one of his pieces (biggest) but he didn’t answer the phone because the caller ID said “Unknown” (Blackest).
