Before Andy Mineo could get a beat from producer Tony Stone, he needed something unexpected: a recommendation from his pastor.
That was nearly a decade ago, and Mineo still laughs about it now — but at the time it wasn’t unusual. Christian hip-hop was a much smaller world. Relationships carried weight and where you went to church mattered. If someone was going to invest time, money or influence in an artist, they often wanted to know who that person was offstage.
“I needed a referral from my pastor,” Mineo told RELEVANT. “He was like, ‘I’m not making a beat for you unless you tell me that you’re committed to a church.’”
The story stuck with him because it would be almost unimaginable today.
As Mineo and Wordsplayed prepare to release Magic & Bird 2, they’ve been reflecting on how much Christian hip-hop has changed since they first entered the genre. Streaming transformed the business. Social media changed how artists build audiences. Independent musicians gained direct access to listeners without needing the approval of labels or industry gatekeepers. Yet when the conversation turned to the state of Christian hip-hop, Mineo wasn’t interested in talking about algorithms or playlists. He kept returning to a simpler question: Who actually knows the people making the music?
“There was a period of time when if you wanted to do Christian rap or Christian music, you were kind of vetted to ensure that you were a legitimate Christian,” Mineo said. “There was a process to make sure that you were about this life.”
Mineo isn’t describing a formal system. Nobody was issuing licenses to Christian rappers or requiring theological exams before artists could release music. What existed was a network of relationships that made it easier to know who people were connected to. Before audiences knew your music, somebody usually knew you. Churches, mentors and pastors often played a visible role in an artist’s development, and opportunities frequently came through those relationships.
The same dynamic existed at the label level. Mineo pointed to the early days of Reach Records, where artists weren’t simply evaluated based on talent or commercial potential. Character mattered too, and there were people specifically tasked with understanding who artists were beyond their music.
“There was a time when if you wanted to be signed to Reach Records, you had to go through the consigliere, a.k.a. BJ Thompson,” Mineo said. “The guy had to vet you out.”
Mineo remembers an era when Christian hip-hop was populated largely by people who viewed music and ministry as inseparable. The artists he admired weren’t simply making songs about faith. They were serving in churches, leading Bible studies or participating in ministry long before anyone was talking about streaming numbers or social media engagement.
“Reach Records and these places used to sign leaders,” he said. “You had to be a leader in faith and strong in your community.”
Wordsplayed has watched the same shift happen over the course of his career. The Christian hip-hop world that helped launch artists like Mineo, Lecrae, Trip Lee and Tedashii operated more like a community than an industry. People crossed paths at conferences, festivals and church events. The ecosystem felt smaller, which meant reputations traveled quickly and relationships mattered.
Today’s landscape looks very different, and in many ways that’s a good thing. An artist no longer needs the right connections to get started. Music can find an audience based on its own merits. Talented creators who might have been overlooked twenty years ago now have genuine opportunities to build careers independently.
Neither Mineo nor Wordsplayed is arguing that Christian hip-hop should return to the way things were. The old system had limitations. Access was restricted. Opportunities were concentrated among a relatively small group of people. Plenty of gifted artists never received the support they deserved.
At the same time, Mineo believes something valuable was lost when relationships stopped being the primary pathway into the genre. Success is more accessible than ever, but it’s also possible to build a platform without anyone really knowing who you are.
“I have no idea who’s vetting him,” Mineo said while discussing newer artists in the space. “I don’t know if he’s tied into any community. I don’t know if he’s part of any church.”
His concern isn’t ultimately about gatekeeping. It’s about accountability. For much of Christian hip-hop’s history, artists were connected to communities that could speak honestly about their lives. If someone was struggling, there were usually people nearby who knew. If someone was growing, others could see it. The music existed within a broader context of relationships.
That context is harder to find now.
The shift isn’t unique to Christian hip-hop. Later in the conversation, Mineo noted that nearly every creative field is experiencing something similar. Technology has lowered barriers across the board, making it easier to create, publish and distribute work without traditional institutions. That’s true for music, but it’s equally true for writing, filmmaking and countless other industries.
“I’ve benefited from technology, just like every generation will,” Mineo said.
He’s careful not to frame the conversation as a critique of younger artists or a plea for the return of gatekeepers. The same technological changes that altered Christian hip-hop also created opportunities for artists who never would have been discovered under the old model. That’s something Mineo appreciates, even as he wrestles with the unintended consequences.
What he misses isn’t the exclusivity. It’s the expectation that artists would be known by people who could speak to their character. He remembers a season when Christian hip-hop felt less like an industry and more like a collection of communities connected by a shared mission. There wasn’t much money to be made, which meant most people involved were there because they genuinely believed in what they were doing.
“It felt like it cost something to be a Christian and to be a Christian artist,” Mineo said.
He recalls spending weeks in Africa on what were essentially missions trips, not lucrative tour opportunities. He remembers artists saying yes to opportunities because they believed they were serving a larger purpose. Looking back, he doesn’t describe that era as perfect. He simply describes it as different.
As Mineo and Wordsplayed prepare to release Magic & Bird 2, neither artist seems interested in recreating the Christian hip-hop culture they came from. Too much has changed, and much of that change has been beneficial. The genre is larger than it was when they started. More artists are finding audiences. More perspectives are represented. More music is being made.
But after nearly two decades in the space, they still believe one question is worth asking: When everyone can build a platform, who actually knows the person standing on it?
For Mineo and Wordsplayed, that’s the biggest change they’ve witnessed in Christian hip-hop—and it has very little to do with the music itself.
