White Rappers, Seattle, and the Music Scene That Almost Was
Description: A reflection on the early days of white rappers, the underground music scene in Seattle, and how the Teen Dance Ordinance changed everything. Dive into personal insights from Oyster Pep about artists like Kid Rock, Everlast, and the challenges of making hip-hop in Seattle.
When I moved to Seattle, I used to wander through the University District, where the University of Washington is located. One of my favorite spots was the Tower Records store. I'd browse the aisles, always looking for the most outrageous or interesting cassette cover.
One day, I stumbled across a cover with a wild cartoon design that caught my attention. It was Kid Rock’s early tape—‘Grits Sandwiches for Breakfast.’ I’m not sure what exactly drew me in, but something about it reminded me of Detroit. At that time, Kid Rock had just signed with Jive Records. Now, back then, if you knew anything about Jive, it was because they were known for working with Too $hort. That cassette was buzzing, and it was starting to pick up steam on college radio.
It was a strange era. Jive was pushing Kid Rock, but at the same time, you had 3rd Bass making waves. 3rd Bass was no joke—those guys were the real deal. When they dropped their music, it was like a breath of fresh air. They had a vibe that hit different, and you couldn’t dismiss them just because they were white. Their stuff was fresh, and they earned respect by aligning themselves with the right people in hip-hop.
Another overlooked white artist from that era was Everlast. He didn’t just come out of nowhere—he was affiliated with Ice-T and was part of the Rhyme Syndicate crew. Everlast made some seriously good music, but people often forget his roots before he became known for House of Pain. He had this gritty style that stood out, even in a time when white rappers were still seen as outsiders.
Back then, Seattle didn’t really have a rap scene. If you mentioned you were a rapper from Seattle, people would look at you like, “What does that even sound like?” There was no blueprint, no established scene. The only person remotely associated with Seattle rap was Sir Mix-a-Lot, but even he found success by making music that resonated in the South, not Seattle. It wasn’t until years later that Macklemore became a household name, but that was a different time altogether.
For those of us making hip-hop in Seattle back in the day, it was tough. There weren’t any outlets for rap music. Seattle wasn’t a place where independent artists could thrive easily. The grunge scene was the only thing people were interested in, and there’s a good reason why those bands exploded.
There’s an old Rolling Stone interview with cartoonist Gary Larson from The Far Side, where he mentioned Seattle’s music scene in the late '80s. He said something along the lines of, “We’ve got something special here, and once the world discovers it, it’s going to get taken away.” He wasn’t wrong—by the time people caught on, grunge had become a global phenomenon.
The grunge scene had an advantage that hip-hop artists in my generation never did: the Teen Dance Ordinance. Before that law was enacted, kids under 21 could attend shows at venues like Rock Candy. They just had to wear wristbands to stay away from the bar. Those shows were packed with young people, and it was the kids who helped make those bands explode.
But by the time I started making music, the Teen Dance Ordinance was in full effect. The law made it illegal for venues to host all-ages shows if alcohol was being served. Suddenly, we had no access to young audiences—the very people who could turn a local artist into a phenomenon.
Without the ability to perform for all ages, we were forced to rely on bars to believe in us. But bars aren’t the kind of places that nurture new, independent music scenes. If the Teen Dance Ordinance had been in place during the rise of grunge, that whole movement might never have taken off.
The only person who really stood up for us back then was Krist Novoselic from Nirvana. He understood that without young fans, we didn’t stand a chance. He was vocal about how the Teen Dance Ordinance was killing the music scene for future generations. Unfortunately, by the time people started listening, the damage had already been done.
Seattle had potential, but laws like the Teen Dance Ordinance made it nearly impossible for independent hip-hop to flourish. We lost out on a chance to build something special—just like the grunge bands had done a few years before us.