By Gary Suarez in Newsletter — Jan 5, 2026

Mask On

On rap's ongoing lineage of creative identity concealment, featuring Action Figure 973, 067Red, and Mondo Slade.

Action Figure 973. Photo credit: @karshcapa

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Like a lot of people, I first started publicly masking in 2020. It had nothing to do with hip-hop; it was about survival. Over time, I moved from those alarming blue surgical joints to the comparatively more fashionable black N95/KN95 respirators, adjusting and acclimating to the physical reality of manifested viral fear. When we were back outside again, so to speak, I kept wearing them on the subways and buses, as well as at the rap shows I regularly attended. Save for some shiesty-sporting types, and a certain other rap journo with similar tastes, I was often the only one at these events covering my face.

During those dark and uncertain times, we lost MF DOOM, a rapper known above all for his metal-faced obscured visage. When news of his passing hit, I recall being fairly active on Clubhouse, the social audio app, popping into relevant hip-hop chats and participating in my capacity as a music critic. Much was discussed there about the late Daniel Dumile, with figures from his life and countless fans mourning and memorializing in real time. Among other things, it presented greater clarity as to why DOOM masked in the first place. Far from mere showbiz gimmickry, we've collectively come to know that he donned the Gladiator-derived guise as an act of self-reinvention after his brother and KMD cohort Subroc's tragic death. (That explanation could just be part of the world-building mythology, but it's certainly a compelling one.)

The motivations behind masking in hip-hop are anything but universal. In the Wu-Tang Clan's earliest days, Ghostface Killah famously concealed his identity with a stocking cap, facilitating a longstanding belief among fans that he did so to keep law enforcement from recognizing him. In recent years, however, both RZA and Ghost flipped that script to reveal it was inspired by 1979 kung-fu flick The Mystery of Chess Boxing, befitting the crew's martial arts informed ethos. Ultimately, he abandoned the practice altogether for wholly practical reasons, as it's kinda hard to spit rhymes through the material.

More often than not, it seems, personal privacy concerns presumably play a part in public-facing artists' rationales for covering up. Mach-Hommy's elaborate and luxurious mystique depends in no small part on the ever-present Haitian flag bandana placed over his nose and mouth, though he removed it for a 2024 concert at Jazz At Lincoln Center where ticket holders' cell phones were locked in Yondr pouches. billy woods doesn't wear any sort of facial disguise on stage, but chooses to cover his mug in promotional photos with his hand or via a strategically placed blur. Those who listen closely to his verses, of course, or read his interviews with media outlets likely know more about him personally than they do most rappers, a point he made during our most recent interview.

The decision to unveil often has similar gravity. Leikeli47 stayed masked up until 2024, when she removed her bandana in the "450" music video. Last year, she told NPR that it was in response to a message from the divine:

"I wait for God's voice in everything that I do. What's crazy is I was supposed to take [the mask] off a few years ago when He told me. A lot of things were happening in life. We had a pandemic, we had this, we had that. And one thing I pride myself on is obeying God. So I was just going through my process of removing and peeling back myself, layer by layer, as much as I could. For me, it was just hearing His voice and moving according to His direction."

The pandemic-era of the 2020s ushered in a new wave of masking in hip-hop culture. The ski mask way is hardly new, employed by the likes of Plies and Young Buck in their visuals nearly two decades earlier, for example. Yet the balaclava's obvious utility in conducting criminal activities have made it almost a fashion staple for today's drill and trap rappers, regularly incorporating the piece into their public image. Whether this crop of young artists do so for online clout or for self-preservation is beside the point. The ubiquity of this face covering means that even more seasoned types are now reaching for them. The recently freed Max B has sported a so-called "brainface balaclava" in some of his media appearances, while Hit-Boy donned a mask in a just-released video for "CROW BARS"–a freestyle about a break-in and apparently thwarted robbery at his recording studio this week.

Still, there are others in the independent and underground rap ecosystem right now adopting masked personas in a tradition closer to that of MF DOOM than Pooh Shiesty. Representing Belleville, a northeastern New Jersey township with a considerable Latino population, Action Figure 973 draws upon pro-wrestling for his identity influence. On a surface level, his Lucha Libre-inspired choice of headgear seemingly diverges from the Griselda set's WWE/WCW/AEW/ECW preferences, though he's a professed fan from the Attitude era on, and the Rey Mysterio parallels are willfully overt. His unabashed love for the sport bleeds into his lyrics, delivered energetically and adeptly. While a producer in his own right, this rather prolific Puerto Rican rapper has dropped projects with beatmakers like Machacha, Circa 97, and Wulverine, the most recent being the Mach-Hommy referencing Luchador Body Odor.

On the opposite coast, you'll find 067Red (pronounced oh-six-seven-red, not zero-six-seven-red, as I very recently learned). The rising Los Angeles rapper boasts cosigns and features from BoriRock, CODENINE, Estee Nack, and BeenOfficialLord, to name a few. That should clue you in on the caliber of spitter he happens to be, his flow and tone laden with cinematic purpose and an inherent pain. 2025 proved a breakout year of sorts for the consistently masked artist, with notable releases like RED SHOT MY PORSCHE WINDOW and SUPREME NOFACE. When asked by Italian graffiti culture outlet ThrowUp about his face covering, he offered some clear insight:

"It’s not for show, and I’m not doing it to be mysterious. I’m not trying to be the masked guy or anything like that. The truth is, as much as I love filmmaking, I don’t like being in front of cameras. I’ve always been more comfortable in the background. If I can make the art the way I want without having to be the face of everything, that’s perfect for me... It’s not about appearances or trying to build some character. It goes back to the Doom philosophy: listen to the music first. That’s what matters to me. I want the music to live on, not people focusing on what I look like or turning that into the story. The mask just helps keep the attention where it belongs."

One of the guests on SUPREME NOFACE is Mondo Slade, intimately known to those in-the-know for his varied and colorful ski masks as much as his exceptionally strong emceeing. With ties to both Cleveland as well as Atlanta, he's visibly been on the proverbial scene longer than Action Figure 973 or 067Red, with albums like 2022's Shoots & Ladders and the following year's Master Speech 2 helping to build momentum behind him. On 2025 offerings Encyclopedia Slade and the aptly named Masks & Bandanas, he's doing what he does best and raising his own already elevated bar noticeably higher. Beyond those, his recent features on THEHIDDENCHARACTER's THEHIDDENSPLASH and Ayoo Bigz's Lost Tapes provide further entry points into his solid catalog.