One night, I was talking to a friend about an idea I had for a piece for Radio 3. This guy is a local, longtime and celebrated indie hip hop promoter.  When he heard the idea for this story, he groaned: "Not another *#@#^ 'Canadian hip hop' piece!!!!" The implication being that, in his scene, being overtly Canadian is LAME.

Okay. I can feel that.

Now this guy is not a complete hater. He was also quick to hype TO/Montreal indie rap duo Thunderheist as everything right with the Canadian scene. And I agree. Thunderheist are doing something undeniably infectious right now: proud and unapologetic party rap. At the same time, their sound has no root. If the song is attached to any "place," it would be a sweaty underground party--anywhere--and this is part of what makes the music cool.

This got me thinking.  

Hip hop has a proud tradition--and some might say responsibility--of representing place. Tracks like Nas' "New York State of Mind" or Classified's "The Maritimes" tell you the story of their environment. Bands like Thunderheist are rebelling against this tradition. So, how much does "place" matter in the Canadian hip hop game?

I talked to rappers and hip hop producers across the country to find an answer. Arowbe from Times Neue Roman, Classified, Cadence Weapon, Wab Kinew, Ghislain Poirier, and Trevor Chan from No Luck Club all represent.