WRLD on Drugs: Juice WRLD & Hip Hop’s Opioid Crisis
“What’s the 27 club, we ain’t making it past 21”, eery lyrics from the late Jarad Higgins, also known as the melodic toned rapper, Juice Wrld, who ironically died within a week of turning 21. Leave it to his die-hard fans, and unenlightened writers covering his story posthumously, he was a modern-day, hip-hop version of Nostradamus, predicting his demise as if he’d knew he’d accidentally overdose from swallowing an unknown quantity of the heroin-gateway drug, Percocet.
For those of us entrenched in hip-hop culture since birth, who’ve critically observed the genre’s landscape, and are critical of how overt drug use has been synonymous with the culture, we realize he was neither clairvoyant nor an anomaly, merely another talented opioid-addicted rapper whose death adds him to the list of opioid-related deaths that contains the likes of DJ Screw, Pimp C, Lil Peep, and Mac Miller. Unfortunately, outside of social media RIP posts (Peep and Miller) and mentions in their contemporaries music (Screw & C), their deaths did little to spark a much-needed call-to-action about the prevalence of opioid abuse in a genre that impacts millions of people and generates millions of dollars for those in and outside of the culture.
Concerning opioid addiction, hip-hop’s struggles do not differ from its forefathers who birthed it. Opioid use, in particular heroin, was widespread amongst musical greats within the genres of blues, jazz, funk, and soul. The 2004, Oscar-award winning biopic “Ray”, which chronicled the trajectory of Ray Charles’s life, portrayed beautifully by Jamie Foxx, highlighted his multi-decade heroin use. For generations of people, including myself, we knew Ray Charles as the “blind man from the soda commercials”, not the musical genius who overcame blindness, poverty, the death of his brother, and additional adversities to become a musical legend. The film sheds light on a man, within the clutches of addictions, who’d lose family, friends, and his sanity as he tried to “shake the monkey off his back”, a term used to describe detoxing from heroin and painkillers. It also highlighted the eras opioid crisis, which his contemporaries also experienced.
Jazz Legend Miles Davis, also found himself spellbound by heroin, which turned his musical genius into a mere tool to support his expensive habit. Women weren’t exempt from this disheartening trend. Billie Holiday, whose song “Strange Fruit” has been remade by the incomparable, yet enigmatic, Nina Simone, and countless rappers, e.g. Cassidy, Kanye, and most recently Rapsody, took her final breaths at age 44. She’d die from cirrhosis of the liver, which many believed stemmed from her heroin and alcohol addictions.
Black music has always had issues with opioid addiction, yet somehow with hip-hop, it just feels different. With musicians of the past, there appeared to be a shame component attached to their addiction, causing them to hide their “illness” from the world, as it could tarnish whatever cache they’d built for themselves. Unlike today, where drug indulgence is embraced and monetized by executives in the strategic marketing of artists.
Before Juice WRLD monetized overt “cries for help” on records, his elder Future found international success doing the same, most notably with the album-mixtape series “Dirty Sprite”, conspicuously named after the concoction comprising mixing prescription cough medicine, specifically codeine and promethazine, with soda. Many question his actual use of the liquid opioid blend, as he’s recently admitted to rapping about habitual use sans engaging. He’s credited with being the most noteworthy rapper to promote his infatuation and addiction to opioids.
In 2018, Future collaborated with the late Juice WRLD on the album, “WRLD on Drugs”, where the pair exchanged drug and sex infused lyrics, as they harmonized about coping with life. Ironically, in an interview with Vulture.com, Juice expressed that upon meeting Future, he informed him that his lyrics inspired him to try “Dirty Sprite”, commonly known as “lean”, to which Future allegedly apologized for his influence. 13 months later, Juice is deceased and hip hop’s preoccupation with opioids continues. But why?
In answering why, one must unpack layers of historical, social, cultural, and economic factors occurring at the intersection of white supremacy, patriarchy, and capitalism, all of which create unbearable trauma filled environments for black boys. Trauma, both overt and covert, continues to be the number one influence of black men’s health. Psychological and emotional injuries stemming from overt traumas, e.g. being the group most likely to be victims of violent crimes, to have poor or undiagnosed chronic physical health conditions, or covert traumas such as being educated by failing educational systems or having frequent contact with the police creates environments where unhealthy coping methods, like drug use, thrive.
For a generation of men and boys, both musicians and non-musicians, opioid use is a trending phenomenon used to numb trauma’s pain; however, consequences will continue to be life-altering, and life-ending, unless we as a culture address the root of the pain.
Music industry execs have a responsibility to protect the wellness of their clients, if not for any other reason than they’re the cash cow. Thus, a provision within contracts should explicitly require a mandatory assessment, to determine whether treatment(s) is necessary if mental health issues and/or drug and alcohol dependency becomes known.
For both signed and unsigned artists, a necessary response from consumers of music should be to offer empathy and resources, not our time and money, for the latter reinforces the behavior deemed problematic.
In Juice WRLD’s case, we failed to look beyond the Juice WRLD moniker, truly allowing him to take off the mask, for us to see and help heal the many scars of Jarrad Higgins. We viewed his celebrity, and accompanying talent as thee commodity, not the person. If we saw Jarad, we’d see a young man thrust into the limelight of an unforgiving and uncaring culture, one ill-prepared to assist those coping with trauma.
Moving forward, we must embrace those who find themselves in the throes of addiction and/or who are experiencing mental wellness issues. We have to see the humanity in the person, even when their addiction doesn’t allow them to see it in themselves.