How Nuface became Atlanta’s unofficial hip-hop historian
At first glance, it seems out of place.
In a 1,000-square-foot room packed with hip-hop memorabilia, DVDs, VHS tapes, CDs, cassettes, clothes, ticket stubs, vinyl, bobbleheads and posters, there’s a Playskool “Dapper Dan” doll from the 1970s.
It’s still in decent shape. The brown overalls, plaid shirt and red shoes are slightly worn. The blond hair has more of a green hue to it now. Its owner is explaining the backstory. Every piece in this room has a backstory.
This is the one about the only child growing up on the west side of Detroit. His parents got him the doll, and because he didn’t have to share it with siblings, Dapper Dan went everywhere with him.
“Before hip-hop became a part of my life, it was toys,” Larry “Nuface” Compton said.
Today, Compton’s “Nuface” moniker is synonymous with hip-hop culture in and outside of Atlanta. Since first arriving in the city 31 years ago, the 48-year-old has been documenting, celebrating and preserving its Black music history.
Whether it’s concerts, comedy clubs, listening sessions, album release parties — even funerals — Nuface is there as Atlanta’s unofficial hip-hop historian.
His collection of photos, videos and ephemera that ranges in the tens of thousands — all stored in this space — have been showcased everywhere from the Science Gallery Atlanta and Trap Music Museum to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.
Like a hip-hop Forrest Gump, he’s seemingly in the background or foreground of almost every major historical moment in Atlanta’s rise from rap afterthought to epicenter of Black creative culture. His archives and actions are well documented via his social media accounts — 117,000-plus followers on Instagram — that garner just over 2 million views a week.
Like his doll, Nuface holds on to pieces of lives and legacies past. As he sees it, if he won’t, who will?
“I know our history. So let me remind y’all how it used to look. Some people do forget,” he said.
“I don’t.”
The man from Motown
In the 1980s, the crack cocaine epidemic was hitting Detroit hard, and violence along with it. Compton remembers his family members being independent and happy despite the reality.
Their son would spend weekends with his grandmother and uncle there.
Compton took note of how his grandmother never threw things away — old appliances, clothes. He was into toys, comics and drawing.
His love for hip-hop started with his dad taking him and a cousin to the mall to get Adidas tracksuits and Superstar sneakers.
From there, he took the boys to a Fresh Fest tour stop, which featured the Beastie Boys, LL Cool J and Run-DMC. He was hooked on LL’s stage presence and Black confidence. He started making mixtapes for his family, friends and neighbors.
In the early 1990s, he lived across from the Hip-Hop Shop, a legendary boutique owned by fashion designer Maurice Malone. Compton would marvel watching emcees from the group Slum Village, or solo acts Royce Da 5′9, Proof and a young Eminem battle rap outside. The space was a muse for the latter’s semibiographical film, “8 Mile.”
‘Nobody would believe me’
An invitation to travel over 700 miles away and tour Clark Atlanta University’s campus in 1994 changed everything.
He was invited by a group of Clark alums visiting his school in Detroit. Upon arriving in Atlanta, he remembers Black folks stopping to speak with him, an uncommon experience back home. To him, Detroit was a Black mecca, but this was different.
It just so happened that Freaknik was in full swing during his visit, too. He ventured out into the Atlanta streets and saw rap royalty — Too Short, Jermaine Dupri, Kriss Kross — mixed in with Black college and university students.
When he got back home, his vivid recollections fell on skeptical ears.
“I would tell these stories in Detroit and nobody would believe me. I think that’s why I take pictures of people, because I would have these outlandish stories that they would think is just so untrue,” he said.
Two things were clear: He needed to get back to Atlanta, and he needed to document everything.
He enrolled at Clark Atlanta in 1995, studying commercial art Inspired by visual packaging for Parliament-Funkadelic, Barry White and rap records, his goal was to design album covers for rappers. “I didn’t want to be a rapper, I didn’t want to be the star, but I wanted to be in it,” he said.
As an undergrad, Compton was very much in it by default. His classmates included future founders of the Aphilliates Music Group — DJ Drama, Trendsetter Sense, Don Cannon, producer Bryan Michael-Cox and executive Chaka Zulu — and restaurateur, Pinky Cole.
When Freaknik came back around in 1995, Compton had his camera ready — footage that would later end up in the Hulu documentary, “Freaknik: The Wildest Party Never Told.”
A year later an upstart Atlanta rap duo named Outkast was in the cafeteria at Clark passing out and signing copies of their new single, “Elevators.” His first piece of Atlanta music history is an autographed cassette with Andre 3000 and Big Boi’s John Hancock on it.
To support his love for new music, clothes and Atlanta nightlife, Compton worked at Kroger. He parlayed the grocery gig into stocking his dorm room with snacks, drinks and blunts for sale. He also rented out his video games and VHS tapes, the same “be kind, rewind” rules applied. “I was like Blockbuster before Blockbuster,” he jokes.
Eventually, the enterprise got big enough for him to move off campus. He had no insurance or banking knowledge, facts he’d ultimately regret.
Trial by fire
Everything Compton owned or had acquired in Atlanta was in that South DeKalb apartment.
Then, suddenly, most of it was gone.
He came home one night to find that a friend accidentally caused a kitchen fire. Inside, priceless pieces of Compton’s budding archive were in peril. More importantly, his money — mostly stored in shoeboxes — took a hit.
What was left from his collection, he held on to and still has to this day. VHS tapes with burned ends. Cassette tape cases sealed shut by heat, never opened again.
He remembers sifting through burned bills with his pregnant girlfriend. “Imagine your life savings going from this to now you got burned money to now homeless and no cars and no clothes or nothing,” he recalls.
Though his Detroit roots made him stylish, Compton had to settle for Goodwill finds, and that’s when it clicked. He was going to write his name on the shirts. No more sporting Fila or Coogi.
What he scribbled onto the fabric wasn’t his birth name. Instead, he went with a moniker that spoke to his being new in Atlanta, selling brand-name clothes from connections in New York City, love for Black-owned lines like FUBU, with a nod to Nubians.
The name: Nuface.
He told friends at Clark Atlanta, DJs, directors, promoters and artists who were all making names for themselves about the Nuface brand. He started getting invites to video shoots: D4L’s “Laffy Taffy,” Young Dro’s “Shoulder Lean” and T.I.’s “Dope Boyz”
Compton was happy to be on a fly on the wall, getting to view the culture in real time. He was also deep in domestic life as a dad and husband, working at an Avis rental car owned by his mother-in-law.
By day, he was Larry, the devoted family guy and by night, Nuface, arguably Atlanta’s biggest hip-hop fan.
On sets, in studios or at shows, he just watched.
Value in hip-hop, he thought, comes from people, not products. Rather than ask of what the culture can offer you, focus on what you bring to it.
“So if everybody is asking for something, I’m going to give something,” he thought.
#NufaceWasThere
It’s been two decades since that epiphany, and Compton is sitting on the couch, cycling through crates of vinyl records, looking for Killer Mike’s Grammy-sweeping album, “Michael.” It’s in response to a query about whether or not he’s been honored in any album thank-you notes.
This is his first.
There were other highlights, which he marks on social media with the #NufaceWasThere hashtag.
Jeezy’s Fox Theatre show celebrating the 10th anniversary of his debut album, “Let’s Get It: Thug Motivation 101.″ Nuface was there.
The third and final night of Outkast #ATLast in Centennial Olympic Park. Nuface was there.
The Dungeon Family reunion at One Musicfest in 2016. Nuface was there.
In 2020, when Jeezy and Gucci Mane took part in a Verzuz battle at Magic City and later settled a long-standing beef, it was Nuface who went viral in a video for declaring that night, “Atlanta won.”
It’s not just music.
Outfitting comedian Karlous Miller with custom T-shirts before his “85 South Show” fame? Check. Compton attended — by personal invitation — both inaugurations for Mayor Andre Dickens.
Wins, losses and every moment in between, Nuface aims to be there.
It’s how he shows up — backpack full of memorabilia — that really sticks with artists, fans and collectors. It can come in the form of past magazine covers, a CD booklet, tour T-shirt or signature sneaker.
He gives flowers that grow into honest conversations with artists and fellow fans about the backstories behind each artifact.
“I want to be that reminder and that’s what I am,” he said.
He’s also credited with knowing when to document a moment. When the Atlanta Falcons celebrated hip-hop’s 50th birthday by inviting 50 rappers to Mercedes-Benz Stadium, an argument between T.I. and his son, King, drew headlines.
Compton was right there and opted not to pull out his phone.
“People tell me I respect what you post, but I respect what you don’t post. I’ve been in rooms where it’s like, ‘Oh, I could go viral right quick. … (The) Shade Room and TMZ would love this,” he said, adding the Falcons Starter jacket he got signed by every artist in attendance is on display at Hartsfield-Jackson.
If anything, Compton is a fan, not a reporter. He also drew inspiration from live event hosts, such as the late D.R.E.S. Tha Beatnik, and Fort Knox, DJ Sean Falyon and executive Kenny Burns. He admired the impact their omnipresent voices had in Atlanta hip-hop’s underground, other ground and mainstream.
Sadly, that’s also means showing up to memorials. He’s been present for life celebrations of Takeoff, Trouble, Rico Wade and Rich Homie Quan. At DJ Unk’s memorial, Nuface presented his children with CDs from their father’s discography.
Since Trouble’s passing in 2022, Nuface has been checking on the rapper’s mother. He’s there to remind her of career milestones and album anniversaries. He does it for everyone. “The way I deal with grief is I celebrate them more,” he said.
Return of Nustalgia
These days, Compton makes a living from his social following. He turns followers into dollars by spotlighting new artists, clothing brands and Black businesses. He helps broker artist appearances and connects them to businesses in the city and metro area.
Last year, he launched a GoFundMe to move his museum. Ultimately, he’d love to see it find a permanent home in Atlanta, a city without an official institution solely dedicated to recognizing its place in hip-hop.
If things line up right, he would own, operate and make a living from that. He’d call it Nustalgia, a nod to an exhibition he did in collaboration with Earwax Records.
“I used to go to the museums and they would have Andy Warhol or Rembrandt or Van Gogh, and these dudes didn’t look like us. What I’m trying to celebrate, highlight and put on a pedestal is our history, our Black history,” he said.
To that end, he’s opened up business account under the name Nuface LLC. He’s often approached by appraisers wanting to put a number on his trove. They talk about auction house Sotheby’s listing a crown worn by the Notorious B.I.G. or ring from Tupac Shakur.
Often, they — fan and appraiser — don’t agree.
“It’s for the people. And if you don’t find value in it, that’s fine with me too,” he said. “I’m not here for the money.”
No matter where he is, there’s one prevailing thought on his mind. Next up, he’s curating a collection as part of the Rock the Bells Cruise in November. The company was founded by LL Cool J and gets its name from his 1985 song.
It’s full-circle moments like this that leave Compton grinning, no matter where you find him.
He always has the same response: “I‘m only just doing what I love.”
About the Author
Gavin Godfrey is an editor and Team Lead for UATL, the AJC's Black culture franchise. He's an award-winning writer and editor from Atlanta who's covered everything from OutKast to the water boys. Before joining the AJC, Gavin worked for Capital B Atlanta, CNN, and Creative Loafing.