But this support was coming mainly from kids his own age in Chicago. Before anybody outside of Chicago knew his name, Keef was getting hundreds of thousands of YouTube views and performing for large crowds on the South Side. Now that his tweets turn up in news headlines-Keef posted a graphic Instagram photo of himself and a woman involved in a sexual act over the weekend-it’s easy to forget that the reason Chief Keef first received media attention was because his music had built a huge underground following without it. (Keef’s grandmother, in a quote for the Sun-Times, seemed comically frustrated by this attitude when reporters inquired into the gang affiliations of the budding star: “And where’s this gang at? In my kitchen? In my basement? In my refrigerator where he go all the time?”) But in the end, they remain two different spaces, and care needs to be taken not to treat them as one and the same. Videos by artists like Coleman-and more recently, in the music of Coleman’s friend Lil Jay -are partially responsible for blurring the lines between art and violence. Sometimes, there is an overlap between these worlds. Social media and YouTube videos don’t just give aspiring musicians a higher profile they make gang culture more visible, too. But since his killing, news outlets have been quick to draw comparisons to the beef between Biggie and Tupac, implying a long-running hip-hop rivalry with Keef was responsible for the teen’s murder. As a rapper, Coleman received almost no coverage prior to his death. The Sun-Times had a multi-page spread and cover story about the city’s hip-hop, while the Chicago Tribune’s headline read, “Chicago hip-hop war of words turns violent.” Blaming rap for violence has long been a popular media strategy, but it would be more accurate to flip that around: Chicago’s violence is now visible through hip hop. In response to Coleman’s shooting, some in the media fell on the usual tired narratives, resorting to finger-pointing and spreading anti-rap panic. But this event illustrated a continuing theme in coverage of Chief Keef and Chicago’s violence the rapper has been dehumanized, reduced to a symbol of what is wrong with Chicago, denied the dignity to stand or fall on his own. It was a chaotic story, particularly when Lupe Fiasco inserted himself into the conversation and drew attention to his own album release date.
As a result, Keef-or someone using his Twitter account-seemed to suddenly change his tune about the entire ordeal. While the results of that investigation are not yet known, the online blowback was harsh and immediate.
In response to Coleman’s death, Chicago rapper Chief Keef sent out a string of mocking tweets, which led police to look into whether he was involved in the murder. Written by David Drake ( and David Turner ( couple of weeks ago, 18-year-old Joseph “Lil JoJo” Coleman was shot and killed in Chicago. A look at hip-hop, violence, and responsibility in the Midwest city.