It seems that some rappers are called to the art of streaming. Of course, there have always been guest appearances—like Nicki Minaj on Kai Cenat’s stream—but others have taken it further, launching entire streaming careers alongside their musical ones. With Snoop Dogg, T–Pain, DDG, and Soulja Boy, this career path is looking to become more and more relevant. While some see it as downtime, others use it as another platform to share their music or promote other parts of their brand. And for fans, it’s a uniquely fun and casual phenomenon that allows for more casual, accessible interactions with their favorite artists.

Despite this steady flow of rappers who stream, there does not seem to be many streamers who’ve made earnest, successful, long–standing forays into the rap game. We’ve had moments: Kai Cenat and NLE Choppa’s hit song “Bussdown Rollie Avalanche” reemerged with a RIAA gold certification this year, and the AMP Cypher, a five–year running tradition in which members of the AMP content house freestyle in succession, has garnered millions of views. Successes, but nothing with true staying power.

But if there’s one thing that streamers aim to do, it’s to be unique and carve out a niche of their own—and with streaming’s standing proximity to the rap industry, an overlap was bound to happen. Enter New Jersey and Atlanta’s streaming scenes, and the emergence of one rapper–engineer producer hopeful.

Maxwell Dent—more known by his streaming alias PlaqueBoyMax—began his digital career by posting basketball videos under the channel MaxGotNext. He expanded into different avenues with friends, eventually co–founding the wildly successful Basement Boyz, a content group that shot various forms of content, including public interviews and freestyling sessions.

During this stint, Max also worked on his own channel, eventually earning his first YouTube plaque before deciding to focus solely on his own streaming efforts.

For all of Max’s success on YouTube, Twitch was really where he’d shine. 2021 was still a COVID–cautious year—a perfect time for Max to begin his streaming career. The timing, coupled with his earnest industry takes, larger–than–life personality, and established fan base from YouTube, enabled his rapid growth into a streaming mainstay.

On the coattails of this success, Max then conceptualized two pivotal series for his continued growth: Song Wars and In The Booth

Song Wars is enormous for what it offers each category of participants: the artists invited onto the stream are mostly underground rappers. They use the platform to promote their music to Max’s substantial audience by competing with each other. The guest judges are other big–name streamers like ZIAS! and BLOU, Im_Dontai, and YourRAGE. They bring their own audiences into the mix, further boosting the series’ exposure. And for Max—the host—this is a powerful, intimate way to stay connected to the underground.

These streams are another source of new music for artists, as they are required to create entirely new songs specifically for the stream, and many of these end up being released as singles or part of a full project.

The benefits reaped from Song Wars would then directly transfer over to In The Booth, which saw Max personally engineer beats for rappers. By this point, several underground names Max had previously featured were now mainstream, and their pop culture relevancy and generative ability were an allure for adjacent fan bases, like basketball and soccer. A notable example being the Michigan–based BabyTron, who capitalized on the controversial Luka–Davis trade with references in his song "Mark Cuban," which was recorded on Max’s stream.

The In The Booth series has also seen up–and–comers LAZER DIM 700 and Nino Paid, established rappers Quavo and Lil Tjay, groups like 41, and even overseas talent, raking in a high–calibre roster of UK–based rappers. With names like these and a steady flow of beats through his Discord, PlaqueBoyMax’s streams quickly became a hot commodity.

The series stands out now as the vehicle behind two of Max’s three most recent projects: the UK special LONDON and the aptly named ATLANTA. These releases broke new ground for streamers in more ways than one.

Firstly, there has never been a more accessible way for underground producers to get their names out. Unlike Song Wars, these beats are picked live—all being produced from Max’s own fan base—and he frequently gives producers shoutouts—as well as official producing credits on any songs that are officially released. The degree, consistency, and nature of this free exposure is unprecedented. The last time something similar happened was when high–profile rapper J. Cole used a beat from YouTube producer bvtman, and then gifted him the resulting song "procrastination (broke)" in a rare moment of generosity and connection.

Secondly, the streams themselves are now more than passive content—audiences directly partake in the song creation process. Live chat features allow for communication between the guest rapper and their audience, with trackable reactions to their songs as they’re being made via live polling. This way, adjustments to the tracks are made with more fan input, increasing the chances of fan retention and high streaming numbers.

All of this is facilitated by one person: PlaqueBoyMax. As such, he finds himself in a very special position—à la DJ Khaled—not just a performer, but as a professional curator and an engineer. Major names in the underground and streaming spaces, like SoLLUMINATI and YourRAGE, have taken notice, certifying his musical senses and ability beyond the average hobbyist.

The release of both albums and the LONDON EP has also seen Max generally lauded as an emergent force in the engineering space, finally bridging the gap between underground and mainstream in contemporary hip–hop/rap music and streamers. So it was very surprising when Five Forever, his most recent studio album and debut rapping project, was met with mixed reviews. 

Before anything, it must be said that the existence of the album in and of itself is already worthy of applause, especially when considering Max’s streaming efforts this year—the album was released in the midst of Max’s 365–day streaming challenge. 

Max’s trajectory signals the emergence of a new kind of content creator. The release of these albums—as well as a joint record deal under Field Trip Records and Capitol Records (the same label as Yeat)—has proven his skill, dedication, and status.

Therein lies the problem.

With so much of his time dedicated to being a streamer, there isn’t really room for much else, especially a career as reliant on time as rapping.

While a large part of an artist’s time could be spent engaging with audiences—something Max already does as a streamer—many artists also pull from life experiences, something Max does not have the ability to do easily with most of his time spent streaming and collaborating. 

His lyrical content is highly indicative of this. We could look to "Sevan," which amounts to sex, money, and drugs. In fact, this, along with the promotion of his brand, 5$TAR, is what listeners hear for most of the album. Any rap fan can appreciate Max’s keen beat selection and atmospheric mixing, but the lyrical content exposes his novelty to the industry.

With his recent projects, PlaqueBoyMax tells the world he’s here to stay—he just might be talented and connected enough to stick around.

Despite the achievement that is FIVE FOREVER, some criticism cannot be avoided. While his ATLANTA tape was notably well received, FIVE FOREVER feels all too familiar for most who listen to rap. 

As Pitchfork puts it, “The young Twitch streamer tries to become a rapper using the innate talent and creative vision of a Twitch streamer.” Instead of leaning into the things that make him unique, Max tries to create music in the vein of already popular sounds. This has been a common criticism, especially amongst his frequent streaming collaborators.

Reviewers like Fanum have rightly pointed out the extreme stylistic range, which certainly shows his keenness to explore different vocal deliveries, but ultimately detracts from establishing a clear personal identity. On "Tank Davis," he’s channeling Yeat, on "Sevan," he’s impersonating Playboi Carti, but nowhere is he himself. The lyrics we hear are tired and cliché: "flying first class," "getting the girl," "wearing designer," it’s all been heard before.

The songs themselves feel repetitive very quickly. "Pink Moscato," one of the more enjoyable songs on the project, has two choruses and a verse, and peaks at just over two minutes. "Swag 2" has two choruses, a bridge, and a verse. Also just over two minutes. If every song has the same form, same time length, and same lyrical content, there is no question as to how audiences could quickly get tired listening to this project. 

At the time of writing, Max has taken a break from social media, stepping away from his streaming challenge. Friends and collaborators have confirmed his safety and well–being, but have indicated that the break may be for some stretch of time. One can’t help but imagine that some of the critiques that have come up in the wake of this album release were partial catalysts for this, and fans can only hope that Max takes this time to reconsider his path as an artist. For someone so surrounded by standout talent, there is definitely space for a more self–expressive, distinctly "Plaqueboymax" album.