This Is Your Freestyle Blast #40
"Some Call It Growth, Others Call It Greed. What would you call it?"
The Freestyle genre matured years ago… now it’s just getting older.
But hey, I don’t mean that in a bad way, just an honest one. Let’s face it, we're all getting older. The artists. The managers. The promoters. The DJs. Even our die-hard fans.
Time moves, and with it, everything changes. Ideas evolve. Old ways get retired while new ones are tested out.
Veteran promoters take their final bows, and fresh faces step in, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and eager to show the OGs how it’s done.
But let’s be real, what once felt like an exciting whirlwind of cross-country flights and back-to-back gigs now takes a little more energy, a little more convincing. That youthful “let’s just do it” spirit that once had us jumping on any ol’ show, in any ol’ place, for any ol’ price… yeah, that’s shifted. These days, it’s about value. About worth. About what makes sense.
And you know what? That’s not a bad thing.
Freestyle has been holding it down for over three decades. That’s a long time to stay relevant in any music genre. And while some have tapped out, many others are still here, stronger than ever. Promoters are still packing venues. Fans are still dancing and singing every word. Artists are stepping out with sharper shows, cleaner sounds, and tighter production.
Yes, prices have gone up, across the board. Artists. Tickets. Flights. Hotels. You name it.
So… is this a sign of a healthy genre?
Or is it just us getting older, and maybe a little more stubborn?
That’s the conversation we’re diving into in this issue. I’ve got a few things to say, but I’m just as interested in hearing your take when it’s all said and done.
So if you’re ready,
Let’s go.
THE RISING COST OF FREESTYLE
The Beat Goes On Up
Back in 1987, when Freestyle music was hitting its stride, a gallon of gas was around $0.90, a dozen eggs went for $0.78, and you could grab a loaf of bread for about $0.50. The median household income? $28,906…
But it wasn’t just the cost of living that was easier to swallow, Freestyle artists were a lot more affordable back then too.
When I started booking artists in the early ’90s, the landscape was completely different. Without giving away anyone’s actual numbers, I can tell you this: the average rate for a solid Freestyle act was between $1,250 to $1,500. And if they were still new to the scene, you could book them for even less, $750 to $1,000.
Even at those rates, a lot of them rolled in with dancers and a road manager. Back-up DJs weren’t a thing yet. If an artist held steady at $1,500, they might eventually climb to $1,750, maybe even break into the $2,000 range. Only a select few were able to push past $3,500.
Now here’s something that might surprise you: New York paid the least.
And yeah, I get it. New York was Freestyle’s birthplace. So why the low pay? Simple, proximity and passion. Most of the artists lived in the area, and with KTU being one of the only stations spinning Freestyle, it wasn’t hard to convince them to hit a club just a few blocks away for a quick paycheck and a packed room full of diehard fans.
To most of these artists, it wasn’t just a gig, it was the dream. To hit the stage, perform their song, and get paid for it? That was the blessing they had been waiting for.
The New York Freestyle scene became a kind of Nuyorican chitlin’ circuit, filled with passion, hustle, and homegrown pride.
But as the genre grew, it started to spread. First to Miami, then to Puerto Rico, Hawaii, Japan, Europe, you name it. Artists signed or re-signed with bigger labels that had the budget to push them internationally.
Unfortunately, not everyone got to ride that wave. Some artists stayed stuck in New York, often because of gate-keeping from their own teams, people afraid to lose control of their cash cow.
Then came a major blow: KTU changed its format.
Freestyle was still in its toddler phase, it hadn't even had a chance to fully grow up. And just like that, the bottom dropped out. Only a handful of artists survived the fallout, mostly the ones who had already started branching out beyond the city.
By chance, or maybe fate, I had just landed a role with Metropolitan Records in the mid-’90s. Lil’ Suzy was already signed to them, which gave me the opportunity to merge my management work with label work, leveling up my career in ways I never imagined.
Now, Metro wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms in the NYC tri-state scene. In fact, they were blacklisted by most of the major Freestyle labels, who pressured clubs not to book their artists. But that push-back forced Metropolitan to go outside of New York, and who would’ve known, that's where the gold was!
Lil' Suzy and Collage, who I personally took on the road, thrived. While others were still figuring out how to get out of Freestyle’s five boroughs of flunk, we were tearing up stages across the country. And those relationships I built with promoters across the U.S.? They laid the foundation for what would become my La’ Entertainment Booking Agency.
Freestyle was booming again, especially on the West Coast. Events like Freestyle Explosion, The Freestyle Festival, Old School Block Party, and others were packing out clubs and arenas. The $1,500 acts were now pulling $2,500. The $2,000 acts? Closer to $3,500. And our so-called A-listers? $7,500 and climbing.
Then came 2020.
That year was shaping up to be one of the most profitable in my career, until the world literally shut down. COVID-19 hit, and because the music business relies on packed crowds, constant travel, and hotel stays, we found ourselves at a complete standstill.
We all panicked a bit. Careers were suddenly in limbo. Livelihoods were at risk. Online Freestyle shows were attempted, but to no avail. New music dropped, but for Freestyle, that was always a struggle, and that hadn’t changed. TikTok started gaining steam, give us a new avenue to entertain and be entertained. I even agreed to have Angel perform at Drive-In Concert in Chicago on a freezing New Year’s Eve… where Angel and I ended up catching COVID, pre-vaccine.
But eventually, the skies cleared. The world reopened. And the big question was: Did we still have a career to come back to?
The answer? Hell yeah!.
Not only did the phone start ringing again, but there was a renewed hunger for Freestyle. That two-year break sparked a fresh demand—bigger than before. Shows began overlapping. Promoters were scrambling for dates. And, naturally, prices jumped.
Artists who were once at $3,000 were now commanding $4,000 to $10,000. The top-tier acts priced themselves out of club markets and into arenas only.
As an agent, I get calls all the time from promoters who booked these artists pre- pandemic, stunned by their reformed asking prices. Some tapped out for good, while others rolled with the changes because they see what I see: Freestyle still hits. Not just the beats, but the connection. The history. The legacy. So yeah, the beat definitely goes on… but it’s also gone up!
TERRITORIAL BATTLES OF FREESTYLE
When Ego, Art, and Geography Collide.
TERRITORIAL BATTLES OF FREESTYLE
When Ego, Art, and Geography Collide
Territorial wars have been around since the dawn of civilization. But what really makes a territory belong to one over the other? History shows us that land disputes don’t always end with treaties or victories, many end with generations of resentment and unspoken tension…
Just look at a few examples:
The Korean War (1950–1953): Though it ended in a ceasefire, it left the Korean Peninsula divided—and still tense to this day.
The Hundred Years' War (1337–1453): England and France went toe-to-toe over the French throne for over a century. Even after massive defeats like Agincourt in 1415, the French bounced back and ended the war with victory at Castillon.
The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: Possibly the most complex and emotionally charged territorial dispute in modern history—this war is still raging today, reshaping global diplomacy and the lives of millions.
But let’s leave the history books behind for a second…
And head into a different kind of battleground, Freestyle music.
Here, the wars are less about land, and more about markets. And the ones going to war? Promoters!
As a booking agent, I live in that space.
It’s delicate. It’s political. It’s personal.
Promoters often claim ownership over regions, and when another promoter enters that territory, things can get heated. Fast.
But the question is: Can a promoter really "own" a city or a market?
And though my answer may anger a few, I just have to say it… No!
I’ve worked with nearly every Freestyle promoter out there. Every region. Some are close friends. Others are loyal clients. But when a promoter calls asking for help in a market where someone else already operates, I take the gig. Why? Because if I don’t, someone else will. And I’m here to get artists work. That’s my job.
Now, this is where the radius clause comes into play. That’s the official boundary line.
A typical small-club clause is a 60/60, meaning the artist can't perform within 60 miles or 60 days of the original event. These clauses protect the original promoter’s investment. Totally fair. Totally understood.
But here's the thing… Does it help the market, or hurt it?
Artists usually say it helps. Promoters? Depends on who you ask.
I’ve seen the angry posts, the behind-the-scenes beefs, the side-eyes at industry events. Some see another event in their area as a direct threat, even a diss. And sometimes it is. But more often, it isn’t, it’s just someone who saw an opportunity, sometimes without even realizing that they’re stepping on toes.
Truth is, real promoters, the ones who know their craft, don’t worry about competition.
They expect it.
They thrive on it.
It sharpens their game and pushes them to market smarter, book better, and elevate their shows.
Because here’s what happens when multiple events pop up in the same market:
The genre stays alive.
The fanbase stays active.
The artists stay working.
Freestyle wasn’t built on playing it safe, it was built on hustle, on passion, on rhythm, and risk. And that means competition is part of the culture. Always has been. Always will be.
So yeah, when a show does well, the promoter wants all the credit.
But when it flops? Too often, the artists get the blame.
Let’s be real, this is a team sport, and everyone plays a part.
And if we want to see Freestyle thrive, we’ve got to stop treating every event like a turf war and start treating it like what it really is: An opportunity to grow the genre we all love.
To all our Subscribers, Readers, Subjects, and of course our Sponsors, for being a part of this month’s issue of the Freestyle Blast Newsletter, Thank you all so much!
and until next time…
This was your Freestyle Blast!
Latif Mercado has been a part of the Freestyle Music scene for well over 30 years, as well as an integral player behind the genre’s continued success.
As a Booking Agent with a who's who roster of Freestyle Greats, as well as his managerial involvement with such industry icons as Lil' Suzy, Angel OCG, and The Cover Girls, rarely would you find a Freestyle event happening without Latif somewhere in the mix.
Latif loves hearing from his readers, answering questions, and sharing whatever advice he possibly can, whether it be on writing, or maybe something Freestyle-related, so be sure to reach out, even if it’s just to say hi.
So please Follow Him Everywhere @LatifMercado
Your voice matters. Your experience counts.
Share your knowledge, your insights, and your memories about Freestyle, its culture, its community, and its movement.
Together, we can keep it alive, keep it strong, and most importantly… keep it growing.
💬 Drop your thoughts in the comments below, and let’s build this thing together.
You hit some amazing points here!!! Great read!!!
The rising cost of Freestyle, I was quite surprised to read this article and was a little shocked as to see hypothetically what the artists were making for a freestyle act during that era. Even if they were new to the scene, with an entourage of dancers and a road manager. I thought with their hits played on heavy rotation on the radio they would receive a lot more for their performance. I know that today in the music climate of what it is, and a lot of people are rediscovering their appreciation and admiration for this music that the artists are more in demand today and being paid their worth. There is an artist of the freestyle genre who I have driven countless hours to see perform whenever I get a chance to. Their songs are still played on the radio to this day, this individual works quite a lot and I'm sure makes quite a comfortable living.