
“Marcberg still sells.” That’s what Roc Marciano told me over plates of crustaceans at John’s of 12th Street in New York’s East Village in early 2019. A decade after its release, Roc’s debut album Marcberg has proven to be one of the more influential rap recordings this decade. The album helped revitalize a sound some thought was dead. It’s like he dusted off old scriptures and used them as a blueprint to write his own, making the East Coast remember its sound again. “I’m the Godfather,” he says now, reflecting on his influence.
Around 2010, New York rap was in a transition period, as the old guard had become wildly successful and mainstream. There was a growing appetite for new blood that could carry on the energy and sound that the JAYs, Nas’, 50s, and Dipsets delivered during the primes of their careers. New York was sounding like everywhere else and needed a shot in the arm.
Enter Marcberg.
It’s an album that came out of nowhere, from a former Flipmode member that sounded like nothing else at the time. In the years immediately following its release, I remember hearing folks talk about this album like it was the game’s best kept secret. And when I finally gave into my curiosity, I was blown away by finally finding what I had been looking for. From top to bottom, Marcberg is a showcase of lyrical prowess and expertly crafted production, and its DNA can be heard in the music of many New York-area rappers who came after. From ASAP’s come-up in 2011 (Yams was a big Marci fan) to 2013’s Polo Sporting Goods by Retch and Thelonious Martin to Griselda, Marcberg emboldened a crop of rappers to lean into their East Coast roots and be themselves.
At the time, the gritty hellscape that Marcberg captured was considered to be underground. But now, with the success of Buffalo’s Griselda crew, the sound is starting to bubble over into the mainstream, just as the likes of Wu-tang and Mobb Deep did before them.
Celebrating the 10-year anniversary of the album, I got on the phone with Roc Marciano to talk about making this seminal masterpiece, laying the groundwork to become a sustainable independent artist, and how he plans to top these last 10 years in the next decade.
Do you remember the moment you knew what the sound of Marcberg would be?
At the time, I felt like the music I loved was lost. I wanted to make an album that spoke to me. I also wanted to put my best foot forward and show what I could do. It’s funny because me and Alchemist were talking about it recently, and he was like, “Yo, back when Mobb Deep was popping and New York rap was at its height, I felt like I was nice then, too. I felt like I could’ve participated in that era, too, but I missed [it].” So when I got a chance to actually do Marcberg, I felt like this was me coming in and adding my piece to the game. That’s what the creation of Marcberg was for me: it was like a chance to actually add my two cents in.
Were you worried that this wasn’t going to hit?
To be honest, I didn’t care. It was just one of those situations where, when I came into the game, everybody was doing it a certain way and I felt like I tried that. I tried coming in, working with the hot producers at the time. I just felt like I was going to fall on my own sword if was going to go out. So I really didn’t care how it was received. I just knew it was good. If they were going to accept it or not, that was a whole different story.
In your Rap Radar interview, you said that you were the catalyst for this new underground sound. Talk about how you saw your influence grow over the past decade.
Man, what can I say? It’s 10 years in the making. It’s just a constant punching of 10 years, and embracing other artists who are actually good at it. So I really think it’s just a matter of time before people really catch on to something. Because if the art is good, it’ll continue to thrive. There is probably nobody from my era or age group still active besides Hov. There ain’t many artists who put out projects 10 years ago that people really even care about right now. How I feel about it is: after 10 years in the making, it’s about time.
Marcberg reminded me of Queens rap like C-N-N and Mobb Deep, but you took a more minimalist approach. You’ve said that people didn’t like some of your tracks at first, because they didn’t have drums. Why did you take that approach?
I wanted things to complement my voice and my style. I wanted music that would make me the feature. I didn’t want beats burying my rhymes—these big, loud tracks where you can’t even hear what the person is saying. And it ain’t even about what you're saying, it’s about how good the beat is. I wanted to make shyt that would showcase my talent. It’s just really making what I feel, from the heart. That’s not my only bag, but I like minimalist music.
In your early tracks with Pete Rock and Busta Rhymes, the subject matter was more or less the same, but you were rapping faster. It seems like you wanted to slow your flow down for Marcberg.
Yeah. Also, you have a period of time where you’re finding yourself as an artist. A lot of that stuff we were rapping to at the time [were] those big, loud beats. It’s not like I’ve got this big, heavy baritone voice. So a lot of times those beats are bass-y like that, and then on top of that, you’re working with all types of people, and you have to speak up and defend yourself. It’s not like you can be like, “You know what? I’m going to get my own vision across,” and just chill out in your comfort zone. If you come to the studio and fukking Canibus is in there, you can’t be chillin,’ especially when you’re new in the game. You’ve got to talk the fukk up. Not to mention, I was just taking the tracks as they were giving me. So [the change in flow] came with growth.
Did you work on the album entirely by yourself? Who else was involved in helping you craft this masterpiece?
For most of the beats, I was out digging with Large Professor. Large was taking me out to a lot of ill record digging spots because I’d never really been to no real digging spots besides trying to run up in a local thrift store and trying to snatch up records. I did a lot of the recording at my man D.O.A.’s crib [D.O.A. receives a “recorded by” credit on nine of Marcberg’s 15 tracks], and I did a lot of recording at Electric Lady Studios and we mixed in there, too. That was pretty much it. I had all the homies around me. I had my man Lasandro with me around that time; I had my man Dino Brave with me; I had my man Knowledge [the Pirate] with me around that time. I wasn’t alone in my sessions. I definitely enjoyed making it.
Do you remember how long it took you to make the album?
It took about a year to make it. But some of the samples that I had, I had for quite some time. I was holding them to the side, like, when I do my album I’m going to keep these. When it actually got down to creating the project, I got a deal on SRC, Steve Rifkind’s new label after he shut down Loud. So they cut me a check and I went to work on it.
Do you remember a couple of those?
I remember a couple of them. The title track “Marcberg,” I had that for a while. “We Do It” with Ka, I had that sample for a while. What else did I have for a while? Man, so many. I had “Raw Deal” for a while. I had “Hide My Tears,” too, for a while. I had about four or five of them that I knew would be big parts on the album.
Was there any beat that stood out to you? One that was like, “Aw man, I’m going to kill motherfukkers with this shyt”?
I knew when I did “Snow,” and then I did “Thug’s Prayer,” “Pop,” [and] “Don shyt.” I knew it was special, because I A/B’d this album against a lot of albums I grew up loving. I would play my album next to albums I loved, track for track, and I knew my album was hanging with them shyts.
Like what?
I would A/B it next to fukking [Only Built 4] Cuban Linx. I would A/B it next to Illmatic. Track for track—of course I would lose on a few tracks—but I would be like “Yo, I’m there, I’m right there.” You could play that and then you could play this and be like, all right, ain’t no fall-off. I would play my album and listen to other stuff that I really loved and be like, “Okay cool, I did a damn good job.” I knew that.
Were you trying to capture the feelings those albums gave you?
I wouldn’t necessarily say that I was trying to capture those feelings. I just wanted to make sure that my shyt was bulletproof like theirs was. I was trying to do my own thing. I took it back to the basement, to what I was doing as a kid. When I was a shorty, I was making my own beats or coming to the studio with my own sample ideas and things of that nature. So this was an opportunity to get back to that. It was an opportunity to do shyt my way. At the end of the day, I wanted to make sure that it would measure up next to other shyt I felt was classics. That album is bulletproof. I love all those tracks. It ain’t nothing weak on there.