In a bold and layered conversation, the Bad For the Community podcast dives into one of the wildest hypotheticals to ever hit the culture desk: What if you had to erase one artist from history to “save” Black music — and could boost another to superstardom? From Future to Lil Nas X, the debate explores deep cultural consequences, ripple effects, and uncomfortable truths about influence, legacy, and representation.
Who Would You Erase to Save the Culture?
The conversation kicks off with hesitation — after all, erasing a legend, even hypothetically, is no easy task. But the hosts lean in. The first name tossed into the ring? T-Pain. His pioneering use of Auto-Tune is praised, but some argue its widespread adoption diminished vocal craftsmanship in Black music.
But T-Pain was just the warm-up.
Lil Wayne enters the chat, with his Auto-Tune-infused era viewed as potentially more disruptive than T-Pain’s. Kanye West’s 808s & Heartbreak is also spotlighted as a pivotal moment that normalized emotionally-driven, pitch-altered rap. The issue isn’t just tech — it’s influence.
The idea of removing Young Thug, particularly around his 2012-2013 breakout, sparks brief interest. But the hosts ultimately view that move as too recent to offer long-term course correction.
Then comes the heavy hitter: Future.
He’s pinpointed not just for stylistic influence, but for reshaping lyrical content — particularly the glamorization of prescription drug use. One host calls Future’s removal a net positive: “Music would be a whole lot better.” His sonic contributions are acknowledged, but seen as rooted in earlier trap architects like T.I. and Jeezy, reducing the case for his cultural necessity.
Other names thrown into the theoretical eraser pile:
- Eminem — Criticized for ushering in a mainstream (read: white) audience that diluted authenticity.
- Dr. Dre — Viewed as a commercialization gateway whose removal would collapse multiple empires (Snoop, 50 Cent, NWA) and possibly disrupt Suge Knight’s rise.
- Soulja Boy — Slammed for kicking off the unfiltered internet era, though some argue DIY artists like Odd Future would’ve still found their lane.
- Tupac — Mentioned only briefly and controversially, with one host suggesting he helped crystallize the “thug persona” in damaging ways. That notion is quickly challenged.
- Vanilla Ice and Cassie — Surface-level mentions as symbolic of fleeting influence or manufactured stardom.
By the end of the heated exchange, Future stands as the consensus pick for removal — not out of malice, but as a corrective move for content over form and drug glorification over storytelling.
Flipping the script, the hosts consider who deserved more — who, if given the spotlight, could’ve altered the genre’s trajectory for the better.
Lil Nas X is the boldest nominee.
His catalog is dismissed by some as shallow or inconsistent, but his representation as an openly gay Black man in mainstream music is seen as revolutionary. “His songs are fire,” one host defends. “And imagine the impact if he had true pop stardom — without having to rely on gimmicks.”
But his provocative marketing (think: “Satan Shoes,” the “Montero” video) becomes a sticking point. Critics argue he leans on spectacle over substance. Still, defenders push back, noting he was just 21 at the height of the controversy — and that Montero was a cultural moment whether people liked it or not.
The debate closes without consensus, but the point is made: boosting someone like Lil Nas X could shift the musical and social landscape in radical ways.
As a tangent, Jack Harlow enters the chat. One host calls his music “forced” and accuses him of riding the Drake wave, while another calls him “valid” and praises his Jackman album. The back-and-forth quickly becomes a referendum on white rappers in general. Should new white artists even be entering hip-hop in 2025? One host argues no, but gives Harlow a pass due to skill and self-awareness.
Ultimately, Bad For the Community uses this imaginative framework to provoke deeper questions: Who defines value in Black music? What is influence worth if it comes with collateral damage? And could a single boost or deletion truly rewrite the genre’s DNA?
Would you erase an artist to “save” Black music? And if so… who?