Call it coincidence, happenstance, or whatever else you want: thirty years ago this month, just as the famed WWF/WCW Monday Night Wars were primed to get underway, a “war” began in late-’90s hip-hop. It has long been said that the parallels between hip-hop and professional wrestling are uncanny, a comparison just as old as the term “sports entertainment.” The 1995 Source Awards were the closest thing to a wrestling event that had ever happened in the rap world up until then. As fate would have it, a shift in wrestling was on the way, as was a pivotal point for hip-hop.
Much like many of the greatest sports entertainers, the greatest MCs of their eras were typically those capable of amplifying their real-life personalities to the highest level. Dramatic effect was a bonus, image was crucial, and if it was backed up by their skill on the mic, even better. Presentation has always been essential in both fields, and the more sensational it was, the more fans ate it up. Like the years after Vince McMahon Jr. took control of the World Wrestling Federation, New York City was at the forefront of hip-hop for a long time.
The long-running reigns of New York in wrestling and hip-hop both found themselves seriously challenged starting in the late ‘80s, and by 1995 had become more than a challenge. While the WWF’s greatest competition by the late ’80s was Jim Crockett’s Southern-based NWA, Jerry Heller’s L.A.-based N.W.A. was arguably the most significant sign that California was poised to become a force in the rap game. The influx of Cali-based artists that made an impact from then on is similar to the impact made in ’88, as Atlanta’s Ted Turner took over Crockett’s territory, and it became known as WCW. By 1995, WWF and WCW were the “Big Two” in wrestling, just as NY and Cali were the “Big Two” in the hip-hop industry.
The individuals leading these entities were charismatic and generating enough money to influence the board. The East Coast’s WWF was Bad Boy Records—heavy on style, a fair amount of substance, and influence on where the sound of New York was headed (despite having a fair share of detractors in their own city). The West Coast’s WCW was Death Row Records—at peak popularity with a sound that resonated nationally in a way that, for a time, the NY scene wasn’t. To be clear, there was a lot more going on in hip-hop than just those two empires, yet award shows are more often than not glorified popularity contests. In terms of popularity, as measured by record sales, radio hits, and video play, Bad Boy and Death Row were THE two. By extension, their respective locales were represented by them.
And that’s where the Source Awards come in. The one magazine that hip-hop artists and fans took seriously at the time was hosting its second live award ceremony. The first one had taken place the year before, but it was not televised. For ’95, it was being filmed for TV and scheduled to air on syndicated stations. It was also happening in the same building as the inaugural WrestleMania and longtime WWF stomping ground, Madison Square Garden.
The crowd—mostly made up of New Yorkers, who have been notoriously tough for out-of-towners to impress—was not being kind to the West, the South, or nearly anyone not from there. Miami’s 69 Boyz got no reaction, while Chicago’s Da Brat received a dry reaction. Atlanta’s Outkast got booed (more on that later). There had been a sense of coastal unrest among both practitioners and listeners for years leading up to this show, but it was on full display by that early August evening.
About midway through the ceremony, the Source Awards worked itself into a shoot. For one, it’s never been common to see a rabid crowd booing the artists they don’t like at any other award show—that did not apply to this one. Just about all of the out-of-town artists were treated as heels, and Death Row Records were the Four Horsemen. They kicked off the show with an ensemble performance featuring Dre, Kurupt & Daz, The Lady of Rage, Nate Dogg, Sam Sneed, DJ Quik (wearing a red bandana on his wrist and directly aiming bars at seated Crip member MC Eiht), and Snoop Dogg. Later, a similar performance was put on by the Bad Boy camp (consisting of Puff Daddy, Craig Mack, Faith Evans, Total, Junior M.A.F.I.A., and lastly, the Notorious B.I.G.). One of these performances got a lukewarm response; the other had the New Yorkers in hysterics. You can probably guess which one is which for yourselves.
As much as wrestling thrives on the in-ring action (or, in this case, on-stage action), it also thrives on compelling promos. Death Row CEO Suge Knight, not normally one for the cameras, decided at some point that it was time to get on stage and cut a promo of his own. Shouting out Tupac Shakur (who at the time was locked up but very much at odds with Biggie and Puff) was how it started, but what followed is as recognizable today as “Stone Cold” Steve Austin’s legendary ‘Austin 3:16’ promo:
“Any artist out there who wanna be an artist… and wanna stay a star… and won’t have to worry about the executive producer tryin’ to be ALLLL in the videos… ALLLL on the records… dancin’… come to Death Row!”
The boos rained down on Suge, and everyone knew who he was referring to. As the CEO of Bad Boy, Sean “Puff Daddy”/”Diddy” Combs had spent a good portion of the previous year busting moves in videos by Biggie, Mack, and Total. Similar to McMahon, Puff preferred to put himself on the screen considerably more than Suge (or Ted Turner) did. The hits just kept on coming when Dr. Dre won the award for Producer of the Year. The NY fans, who would have probably rather it been DJ Premier, Pete Rock, or Easy Mo Bee (Dre’s competitors in the category that year), booed Dre as soon as he stepped onstage. He had no bad words for the crowd, but Snoop did, as the crowd chanted “East Coast”:
“The East Coast ain’t got no love for Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, and Death Row? Y’all don’t love us? Y’all don’t love us? Well let it be known, then! We don’t give a fuck, we know y’all East Coast! We know where the fuck we at!”
The tension was high by this point, as hosts MTV’s Ed Lover and Doctor Dre nervously tried to act like everything was all good. Gorilla Monsoon and Bobby Heenan would have never, but Ed & Dre did their best to ignore the discourse taking place in the crowd by then. Shortly before presenting an award, Puff stepped to the stage with his response, which rarely ever gets replayed whenever this show’s shenanigans are revisited:
“I’m the executive producer that a comment was made about earlier. Contrary to what other people may feel, I’m very proud of Dr. Dre, of Death Row, and Suge Knight for their accomplishments. All this East Coast/West Coast that need to stop…”
As prepared as it may have felt, Puff’s peacemaking promo simmered things down, especially as Snoop won the award for Artist of the Year. Puff and Snoop hugged it out and the tension eased out for the moment. Of course, we now know that it was just getting started. Tupac was on his way home via Suge putting up the bail that fall and like the formation of the nWo, the rest is history.
But the promo with perhaps the most lasting impact was made by Andre 3000 of Outkast, before all of the main event shenanigans went down. Booed for winning “New Artist of the Year”, ‘kast collected their award before Andre left the hostile crowd with a short and to-the-point statement. Like ECW in ’95, Southern hip-hop was a distant third at the time. It hadn’t been producing hits at a rapid rate (yet), but 3 Stacks made quite the prediction for the rest of the ’90s and beyond:
Also on the card were moments like Method Man’s crowd-motivating performance of “Bring the Pain”, a tribute to the recently-deceased Eazy-E by Bone Thugs-n-Harmony, and a WWE Hall of Fame-esque acknowledgement of Run-DMC. At any other show, those moments would be notable all on their own. However, they paled in comparison to the brouhaha that persisted throughout the night.
A month later, Monday Night Raw was directly rivaled by the debut of WCW Monday Nitro, and ushering in the pro wrestling television age now known as the Monday Night Wars. Similarly, the sounds of hip-hop were set to go in a thousand different directions for the remainder of the ’90s, entering a boom period around 1996 that increased its audience and propelled it into the billions by ’99. Many stars emerged out of the smoke, but tragically, two of the biggest names in the story lost their lives in the process.
Before or after August 3, 1995, for better or for worse, the culture had never been as tense and competitive. There had never been an awards show so controversial, so infamous for dramatic fallout, and with as much replay value for just about every hip-hop history documentary that followed. Of course, not all hip-hop fans are wrestling fanatics. But if they’ve ever enjoyed watching the 1995 Source Awards in real time or in retrospect, for at least two hours, they were.