Since the YSL arrests, covering Atlanta rap is an emotional rollercoaster

The early-to-mid 2010s era of Atlanta rap felt like another hip-hop golden age, when the city’s stars dominated the charts. But upon my arrival to Atlanta, it became clear that era was over.

Roughly six months before my start at the AJC, Young Thug, Gunna and others were indicted on gang and racketeering charges. A few days later, YSL rapper Lil Keed died of natural causes. A month later, Trouble was shot and killed in his sleep. Two days after I began my role, Migos rapper Takeoff was fatally shot in Houston. Reporting on his death was my first AJC story.

Now comes the latest news from the longest trial in Georgia history. Young Thug has been released on 15 years probation and has accepted a decade-long ban from metro Atlanta. He will only be allowed to attend special events of immediate family members or to host antigang presentations (which can be in the form of a concert). The city that nurtured him and is largely responsible for his sound will now lose him.

“I’ve seen Atlanta without Thug, and it has not been the same,” said Atlanta music writer and filmmaker Travis “Yoh” Phillips following Young Thug’s sentencing.

For the past two years, Atlanta rap has witnessed a seemingly never-ending loop of crime and death. Documenting it can be overwhelming. Often my job feels like a tragic and monotonous arc: breaking the news of a rap death, contextualizing what that death means for the rap scene, funeral coverage and repeat. This year alone saw the deaths of hip-hop legends Rico Wade and Rich Homie Quan.

It’s a draining task. Not just because of the subject matter, but because of the frequency at which these major events are happening — and because I’m also grieving the artists who’ve ruled my playlists. I often think about the future careers of Takeoff, Rico Wade and Rich Homie Quan had they not died. I think about their families who are still mourning. I think about their fans. I question whether they felt fully loved and valued before their deaths.

Reporting on these huge losses makes me feel connected to the artists involved in ways that I didn’t think I would be. Their impact on Atlanta is immense. And it’s my job to document it.

Now, I’m forced to think about Atlanta losing Young Thug’s presence.

The cycle of covering loss in Atlanta rap continues.