Making change

The pop world swears by a simple, sensible mantra: Go solo. Musicians from Beyonce to Sting, who know that one name is better than two, also realize that owning the spotlight trumps sharing it.

Hip-hop, however, has long crafted its own rules. What else could explain the latest move by 50 Cent? The hottest recording artist of 2003 rejoined his old group, G Unit, to record a new album, “Beg for Mercy,” which has sold more than 1.5 million copies in just two months.

This seemingly inverted career step -- from superstar solo artist to group member -- is becoming a blueprint for triumphant rappers.

At the height of his success in 2001, Eminem returned to his Detroit troupe, D12, for an album, “Devil’s Night,” that went to No. 1 on the pop charts. Grammy-winning Nelly still records (and engulfs the stage) with his group, the St. Lunatics; Cam’ron released an album last year with his Harlem-based Diplomats; even Hollywood VIP Ice Cube returns to Westside Connection for their latest, “Terrorist Threats.”

Rappers such as the non-50 Cent portions of G Unit -- Lloyd Banks and Young Buck -- reap obvious rewards when big names return to their fold.

“I came on the scene with the golden stamp on me,” Banks, 21, says of 50 Cent’s endorsement. “I jumped over all those hurdles that new artists usually have to deal with. It’s definitely much easier to come in as a group.”

Sure, there’s some jealousy and resentment leveled by those who might accuse G Unit of riding another’s coattails. But coolly confident Banks is comfortable in his own shoes -- which, it turns out, are G Unit sneakers. The lucrative Reebok shoe hit stores in November and was preceded by a clothing-line deal and an Interscope-based record label. Thus another career trajectory was upended: Banks and Young Buck became the first rappers to peddle a sneaker line -- and then an album.

“I’m not rapping with 50 just because I’m his homie,” Banks asserts. “He has plenty of those. I’m rapping with him because I have talent, and because we make good records together.”

“Beg for Mercy,” which is No. 8 on the pop album chart this week, is a good record -- if only in the sense that it’s pleasantly familiar. On display is the profitable formula established by 50’s “Get Rich or Die Tryin’ ”: gunshots, fired freely and cited often; rifles, cocked and extolled in verse; hard-core tracks about ghetto intrigue, featuring hooks more cheerfully melodic than a Christmas carol.

It’s a recipe for top-20 hits, and the album has already found one: the catchy “Stunt 101,” an exercise in braggadocio in which 50 advertises his “blinging” wrists and “shining” rims.

50 Cent has been recording with G Unit since his early days as a rapper on the mix tape circuit. He, Banks and Tony Yayo -- who was in jail for gun possession until last week, but appears on two “Beg for Mercy” tracks -- grew up in the same Jamaica, Queens, neighborhood. Young Buck, from Nashville, was signed to the crew after a stint with New Orleans’ Cash Money Records.

According to Banks, animated Young Buck is “the one with the down-South energy”; Banks himself is “laid back,” rapping in an ultra-cool but appealing monotone; and 50 Cent is, well, 50 Cent.

Banks’ notable solo track, “Smile,” is -- like “Wanna Get 2 Know You,” an upcoming single featuring singer Joe -- a pleasantly low-key tune on an otherwise boisterous collection. He is finishing up a solo album, which will hit stores this spring and is likely to earn a boost from his G Unit debut.

But what’s in it for the big-name rapper who returns to his old group?

Most obviously, a paycheck. G Unit or D12 might be the human equivalent of a T-shirt by Jay-Z’s Roca Wear (or any other now ubiquitous rap clothing line): one more way to milk a hot name.

“People were waiting for G Unit, because everyone expected them,” says Denaun Porter of D12, which he says paved the way for 50’s crew. “D12 did well, but I can see G Unit doing even better, because people are now used to crews coming out after the artist blows up. All eyes were on these guys.”

Porter, who produced “Stunt 101” and 50’s “P.I.M.P.,” has also provided beats for Method Man, Mary J. Blige and Dr. Dre, and is currently working on D12’s upcoming album. Fittingly, its first single may be a track called “The Band,” about the relationship between a group and its superstar member.

“When D12 came out, people kinda missed the fact that we were Eminem’s backbone, not just guys who rapped with him,” explains Porter, a.k.a. Kon Artis. “They didn’t realize that, say, Eminem gave me a place to stay when my mother kicked me out.”

For artists such as 50 Cent, then, former groups are more than mere commodities. They’re the family left behind, the ones newly famous artists can trust -- “50 knows I’m no yes man,” Banks says -- and thus offer a share of the American dream (which increasingly takes the form of a record deal).

Then there’s the ego factor: Even mighty 50 Cent has one, and it’s surely stroked by admiring pupils such as Banks -- who, seven years younger than 50 Cent, deems the rapper his greatest musical influence -- or Young Buck, whose liner notes thank Jesus, 50 Cent and his mother (in that order). By boosting and mentoring another artist, rappers enjoy shaping hip-hop’s legacy and lineage: and Dre begat Eminem, who begat 50 Cent, who begat Lloyd Banks, and so on.

Perhaps more than anything, G Unit or D12 reflect artists reaching for hip-hop currency: street credentials, acquired -- logically enough -- via bonds to one’s former street.

“Every basketball team got a Kobe Bryant. And some teams got a Kobe and a Shaq,” says D12’s Porter, offering a metaphor for the solo rapper who earns success ahead of his onetime community.

It’s an apt comparison: Only rappers speak of their record label -- Death Row, Roc-a-Fella, Bad Boy -- as a team they’ve gone to bat for. Hip-hop -- both a group sport and a one-on-one activity -- embodies that classic American back-and-forth between the individual and society, between self-reliance and community values.

“Ain’t none of us angels,” says Banks of G Unit. “But all along, we knew 50 was laying the groundwork for us. We were ready.”