10 Years Later, How Jay-Z’s “The Blueprint” Changed Everything

In the fall of 2001, I was in the eighth grade. Sounds weird saying that in hindsight but regardless of that, it was the last Fall I remember before fully engulfing myself in tireless battles about who’s the best rapper and other hip-hop qualifiers that now seem like barbershop fodder & message board grenades. That fall happened to be 9/11 and while I couldn’t really begin to imagine how my life would change in the decade since, I could hear the echoing words of my Tech teacher saying, “We’re at war. This is the war of your generation.”

I agreed with him in that respect but sorry, the war of my generation on a smaller scale happened to occur in New York between two rappers, one of whom would wind up becoming the most successful rapper ever and the other arguably it’s most hailed poet with a street education. 9/11 made me leave school. 9/13 made me go out and buy my second Jay-Z album.

Funny to think ten years later, that album with the blue hue and smoking protagonist is the definitive album of New York hip-hop of the 2000s.

By and large, Jay was battling himself at this point in time. Having already secured the title as the best rapper in NYC at the time, Jay was coming off of a fourth straight platinum LP, The Dynasty: Roc La Familia with noted lead singles in “I Just Wanna Love You” & “Guilty Until Proven Innocent”. From recording (the lion share only lasting a week) to ramifications afterwards (see the Nas battle), The Blueprint not only made New York truly realize who was running this rap shit, it also made the country understand who was running this rap shit.

Changing The South

In Texas, things shifted drastically in terms of allegiances. To many, the only Northern outsiders most Texas rap fans listened to happened to be deceased unless DJ Screw or The Swishahouse touched it on a screw tape. Major radio at the time happened to be dominated by newer Southern acts such as Ludacris, Nelly and if anything – the only other New Yorker to snatch ears happened to be a man who once upon a time had a bigger buzz than the Jigga Man, DMX.

Even the gap UGK bridged with “Big Pimpin” hadn’t fully strengthened itself to be crossed yet even though Jay’s face was all over BET & MTV. His reach hadn’t grown to the adnausea “tweet a Jay-Z lyric a day” bonanza but by and large he was creating it. There were cuts with Scarface such as “This Can’t Be Life” and flaunts of wealth from a hustler’s point of view. True, the days of the Tank disintergrating and impending rise of Cash Money were coming but in the eyes of many, the East Coast’s impact on a region in general was a far more beckoning call.



Jay’s September opus brought the sound of soul samples back to the forefront. The opening chords of “The Ruler’s Back” feel majestic like smooth silk but it’s the album’s meat, the moments that immediately dart around Trackmasters’ “Jigga That Nigga” which make The Blueprint an album that sonically kicked down a new door and brought forth old sounds with it.



Southern hip-hop had used soul samples for years, evident by much of Chad Butler’s production and how often a James Brown cut found its way buried into Southern rap topics, same for much of The RZA’s works with the Wu-Tang Clan but considering that Jay is first and foremost considering the setter of all trends, it’s considered new. Remember, OutKast kicked off throwback jerseys in the mid-to-late 90s but it wasn’t until Jay donned them that things truly took a turn.

It was as if overnight, everything the South had already begun crediting itself with first for the sake of originality was wiped away and they have one album to thank for that. Spend any time with a Southern rapper now and ask them what’s their favorite Jay album.

The Nas Debate

Every classic album needs an enemy for one of it’s standout tracks, if not its chief purpose for existing. 50 Cent had Ja Rule & Murder Inc. for Get Rich Or Die Tryin’ (the second-to-last Dr. Dre influenced album that mattered), 2Pac had The Notorious B.I.G. & jail for All Eyez On Me and so on. What started as rumors on NYC mixtapes during the summer of 2001, fight allegations and more culminating in a Summer Jam spanking one career couldn’t recover from and the other got revitalized.

We all know the details on why Jay got at Nas at Summer Jam, opened up the vault even further on “Takeover” and made Esco step his game up but looking back at it, Nas seemed like he had snatched victory from the jaws of his own defeat when in all actuality, it only made Jay more vengeful later on. Ron Browz may have produced “Ether” and attempted to make a career off of it but aside from “Arab Money”, Browz has been reduced to trying to build buzz off of a literal hurricane.

Even looking at “Ether” in its lyrical context, it’s potshots about looks, sexuality and more. The venom behind it may have made the topic seem bigger than it was but “Takeover” started as a single bar from the Summer Jam performance and evolved into an entire verse listing nothing but facts and trueisms. Nas had gotten sloppy and in the usual way big brother picks up for little brother, Jay picked up the baton from Memphis Bleek’s subliminals at Nas and went all out.



True, the following shots that peppered the follow up Blueprint album or “Super Ugly” weren’t necessarily needed but Jay won by the opening chess move. Nas played defense, thought he had victory but by and large fell to a position where in 2007 – he worked for Shawn Carter.

Breaking New Names

In 2001, the top producers of the day were Trackmasters, Timbaland, Swizz Beatz, DJ Premier, Dr. Dre, The Neptunes & Rockwilder.

In 2011, the top producer is Kanye West followed by an argumentative assortment of names including The Neptunes, Swizz Beatz, Just Blaze and more. West had made his name known a bit on Jay’s previous effort but the Chicago producer effectively blew up on Blueprint. Compiling a list of old soul & rock samples, West made The Doors feel urban on “Takeover”, the Jackson 5 feel back en vogue on “Izzo” and lesser known but just as important producer Bink! let the royal horns go for the album’s opener “The Ruler’s Back”. Yet by and large, the album’s best beat in the eyes of many belonged to Blaze.

If he never crafts another sonic gift to the world, Justin Smith will forever be linked to track number six. “U Don’t Know” has become a mantra with driving snares, high arching piano keys and a sneering Hov on top of things with enchanting mogul rap that many may have begun chasing the moment he closed with “I will not lose ever … fucker.”



It was more than braggart rap, it was opening up the world to the truth of Hov, one in which the Marcy native put knowledge to the idea that on his debut album Reasonable Doubt he bought his way into the game. While slinging “Hawaiian Sophie” to hopeful listeners back in the late 80s, Jay had been carving his empire out. Most of these stories have been told via Decoded but when Jay flat out asserts “[I] came into this motherfucker hundred grand strong”, it’s no longer myth as how Jay could easily make it look like Biggie & Kane were his peers in appearance or how he was the first to take video shoots on exclusive islands.

By the time the curtain closed on The Blueprint, West & Just Blaze had become more than sought after names, they had become household ones.

Is The Blueprint A Classic?

Since their inception, we’ve ranked albums on a variety of scales. Five mics, five stars. Jay may be one of the few artists to say they have two classic albums under their belts, possibly even three if you decide to count The Black Album but in terms of cohesion – The Blueprint is a classic only based upon legacy.

Most will point directly towards the varying subject matter on Jay’s 2001 album as the driving force behind its classic claims. There’s the battle rap anthem of “Takeover”, the aforementioned “U Don’t Know” and the tailor made for radio “Izzo”. Delving deeper, there’s the heartbreak and regret on “Song Cry”, the mackish laundry list of “Girls, Girls, Girls” and the middle finger towards critics on “Renegade” (we need not get into the Eminem feature, you know how that ended) and another ode to Gloria Carter on “Momma’s Love Me”. Even the bonus cuts were moments in lyrical brilliance such as “Breathe Easy” and The Whatnuts sampled “Girls, Girls, Girls Remix”.



In terms of picking songs that resonate off of a single body of work in a career that is heavy on such things is quite interesting. RD was streamlined Mafioso rap, both good side & bad side. Vol. 1, 2 & 3 felt uneven with grime and shine and The Dynasty was so feature heavy that fans wanted an all Jay album period (they got their wish and then got it again on The Black Album). However, “Jigga That Nigga” sinks any claims of a perfect album and “Hola Hovito” with its Spanish shrills and guitar work sounds awkward when sandwiched between 60s & 70s soul.



It’s Hov’s second classic album, the album that elongated a career and built up others in more ways than one. It’s The Blueprint, the album that made Jay-Z stop attempting to recreate Reasonable Doubt and created another quandary, “Can he make another Blueprint?”