Sinhala rap: A who’s who

If you’re here for an exhaustive history of the evolution of hip hop music in Sri Lanka, you’re in the wrong place. If that’s what you’re looking for, I highly recommend this excellent video by Wagmee TV on YouTube (though I think Wagmee forgot to mention the pioneering Rude Boy Republic). I wrote my own, far less complete piece on this for Roar back in 2016 if you’re interested, but it’s in need of a comprehensive follow-up, which this Medium post isn’t meant to be (because I’m lazy). Consider this an arbitrary and all-too-subjective listing of artists that I think are currently redefining the genre.

Drill Team

Much has been said about Drill Team’s contribution to Sri Lankan rap, about their artistry and their relentless pursuit of thematic heights not reached by rival groups, to the point that even mentioning them in passing these days feels dangerously close to peddling a cliché. But the hip hop super group are where they are for a reason, and their latest album Naraa Sandeshaya, which was released just yesterday, is proof positive that the 62992 boys have really matured as artists since their early Cypher days.

Though the line-up has changed somewhat over the years (the absence of Kalu Malli, in particular, is keenly felt), the group has seen some excellent additions in the form of Ravi Jay, Samith Gomes and other MCs, all of whom complement in their own unique ways the raw energy of Born Lord Manasick, the emotional depth of Minol, the lyrical genius of ChrishVix and the smooth-as-silk flow of D-Rex.

Even without the colourful regulars, Drill Team’s latest outing, with Manasick and Minol dominating, still contains some of the most socially conscious, most hard-hitting rhymes you’ll hear in all of Westනාහිර, with minimal cussing. The recent explosion of new and influential artists and groups notwithstanding, these boys are here to stay.

Costa

When I first caught Costa live three years ago at a “dodgy/seedy” bar off Pettah, Colombo, I had no idea I was in the presence of a future trap sensation. I should’ve seen the signs, though. To say his energy was infectious would be a gross understatement. The way he had the small crowd going — yours truly included — in a crowded bar, with his signature moves and effortlessly cool stage presence, there was no mistaking Costa for what he was: a true performer, a real star in the making.

Fast-forward to 2020 and Costa is one of the biggest names in the local hip hop scene. His name appears regularly in Apple Music’s Top 100 Sri Lanka list, and together with his frequent collaborations with other artists, his prolific presence on YouTube (he posted eight videos this year alone) and his innovative sampling of classic Lankan hits, the Helsinki-based rapper hailing from Sri Lanka’s hill capital is fast becoming one of the most iconic voices in the game.

Though I hesitate to box him into a single subgenre (Costa himself seems to be openly exploring different styles), he has been called one of the country’s best trap artists, and comparisons have been made to some of the best-selling international rappers in the genre. All of this praise is well deserved in my opinion, and, however he wishes to identify himself as a musician, there is no disputing that Costa has already left his mark.

Edited to add: Radio personality Yazmin Yousuf spoke to Costa on my behalf and confirmed that he, in fact, does not identify himself as a trap guy.

MasterD

Is MasterD is the king of flow in Sinhala rap? I don’t know. But he comes pretty darn close, that’s for sure. (Though Zany, Breezy and Keefa might have something to say about that). His lyricism is among the finest in the game, as amply displayed in singles like නෑ සේනා, රුං රුං රුං and සමහරක් බුදී, and his delivery is almost unrivaled, though I recognise that it might not be for everyone.

With his beautifully animated videos and punchy but tasteful lyrics, MasterD is attempting to carve out a niche for himself in the ever-expanding හෙළ රැප් scene, and luckily for fans of rap, it appears to be working. It helps that he does not shy away from some heavy themes that aren’t necessarily popular; and he isn’t afraid to get political.

Unfortunately I don’t know enough about his history to tell you how much he has grown as an artist, but suffice to say MasterD has impressed me in ways that few in the industry have. If his sincere (some might call blunt), down-to-earth disposition doesn’t win you over, his slick flow just might.

44 Kalliya

This is where things start to get a little hardcore. With the caveat that the world’s best known gangsta rappers are actually studio gangsters, it bears repeating that as a subgenre of hip hop, gangsta rap has nevertheless birthed some real talent across the world. Sri Lanka is no exception, and 44 Kalliya was at one point at the forefront of this phenomenon locally, at least for a few glorious months.

Though I wouldn’t do this group the disservice of restricting them to a single category, it is not unfair to say that 44 Kalliya is perhaps best known for its [at the time] edgy music with its violent themes and unabashedly tribal identity — 44’s beef with rival Drill Team provided much material to both groups. Despite their propensity for theatrics, however, 44 didn’t fail to keep it real. Nearly five years later, their hit single Weedi Mayam which painted a bleak picture of an increasingly opportunistic city remains ever relevant.

Even if the group has remained somewhat stagnant musically over the years and may even be in danger of being forgotten entirely, 44’s legacy in the form of its illustrious alumni will help keep it alive in the hearts and minds of fans for years to come. Smokio, for instance, has become something of a living legend, and K-Mac has hit the mainstream in a fairly big way (although, the less said about his strange 2018 collaboration with Fill-T the better). Either way, 44 Kalliya’s contribution to Sinhala rap must not go unacknowledged.

Maliya & Puliya (Rasthiyadu Padanama)

Two of my absolute favourites in the game. There is really not much to say except that these guys are the real deal. As founding members of the refreshingly and brutally foul-mouthed Rasthiyadu Padanama, Maliya and Puliya are true pioneers who boldly went where — as far as I know — no Sri Lankan rapper had dared venture before.

And it’s not just cussing for the sake of cussing either. These boys turned it into an art form. There is a real brothers-in-arms depth to the expletive-laden bravado and braggadocio, and Puliya in particular, with his simultaneously intimidating and butter-smooth delivery, has a gift for verbally destroying you while making you want to thank him for the privilege.

The mysterious and elusive Maliya, meanwhile, continues to impress as one of the most hardcore rappers to ever stand before a mic in Sri Lanka. While Manasick’s balls-to-the-wall concluding verse in Drill Team’s 2014 Cypher is memorable for the punch it packs, it pales in comparison to Maliya’s unrestrained and yet somehow understated lyrical assault of a finish in Handahana, Rasthiyadu Padanama’s ambitious collaboration with 44 Kalliya in 2017 which has since racked up over 2.7 million views on YouTube.

Others

I have exhausted my capacity for writing for one day (let’s blame the pandemic and the unrelenting humidity) and shall from this point onward list possibly lesser known videos from various interesting artists of late, including a few already mentioned above. (Please note that I’m including only recentish releases in the following and will continue to add to it, time permitting).