Back in 1992, the collective of Speech, Headliner, Rasa Don, Aerle Taree, Montsho Eshe, and Baba Oje stood out with their Afrocentric messaging, southern style and embrace of rural Black imagery in their videos. 30 years later, Arrested Development has a quietly consistent career that's been on an upswing as of late. The lineup has shifted, but the spirit has remained, as Speech has led the collective through incarnations and shifting times. Because of that quiet consistency—and because the music that Speech is crafting alongside One Love, JJ Boogie, Fareedah Aleem and producer Configa is among the most vibrant Arrested Development has ever released—it's a bit shocking to hear the A.D. frontman announce that the group's most recent album is, most likely, it's last.

"I'd been wibblin' and wobblin' on this issue for a while," Speech begins. "The music industry does not really make a lot of money from record sales at all and touring is hard because of COVID. And you just start to wonder: 'What am I doing this for?' and is it worth it anymore?"

The Atlanta collective has built a legacy on artistry and integrity. And their latest album, the Configa-produced For The FKN Love, dropped in December to positive reviews from fans and critics, continuing the hot streak the group has been on since 2020s Don't Fight Your Demons. Speech isn't afraid to acknowledge that A.D.'s is enjoying something of a resurgence, the warmest reviews since the collective's 1990s heyday and heightened visibility in classic Hip-Hop spaces. Even the album itself is a love letter to the music; and with appearances from luminaries such as Masta Ace, Fatman Scoop and Big Daddy Kane, a shout-out to their peers.

"This record is called For The FKN Love. And the reason we recorded this record is because of how much we love the artform and how much we love the music; and then we got the chance to collaborate with a ton of artists. But yeah, it seems like this is gonna be the last Arrested Development record. I say 'seems like' because, y'know, there's talks. Some of the members don't agree with that and we're trying to weigh some things out. It's a business and our world—for [all of us]. [We] have dedicated so much time to this. [So] it's something that we're weighing out, basically."

But Speech sounds resigned to the limitations of an industry that is buckling under the weight of technology and indifference.

"I'm 53 years old. There's a point where...[after] you've [been] doing this for 30 years," he says, before collecting his thoughts. "And for me at least, I've always wanted to be more secure as the years went on. And because of things way beyond my control—like the way the music industry has gotten—it's less secure. And I'm young enough that I could do many other things. I have many passions."

Streaming services have famously taken a major bite of the earning potential of recorded music. But the added problem for so many Hip-Hop artists is that this industry that has become so lucrative has yet to embrace the idea of "adult contemporary" Hip-Hop on major platforms. That is to say that so many veteran rap acts simply have a hard time finding spaces where their music is consistently supported.

"I've been doing this professionally for over thirty years. so, like, I've seen extreme highs, I've seen very huge lows. It gets to a point; when you're putting a lot of effort into a project: you're writing on it, you're producing it, you're bringing in other musicians, guitar, bass, other singers and vocalists; you're paying publicists to promote it, you're paying for marketing people, blah-blah-blah. And the residual return on that is way less than what you're putting out. You're just sorta thinking 'Is this really what i wanna do?' The other side is I love outlets like [Rock The Bells]. You guys give us reason to keep going. Chuck D's radio station does. There's a lot of radio stations that do support but not nearly as many as there should be."

Speech recognizes the ongoing appeal of the group's hits, but, even with the critical acclaim of their two most recent albums, the group can't seem to crack mainstream radio rotations.

"A lot of them will play 'People Everyday' to death. And I love that. I'm very, very happy about that," he explains. "But [they] won't rock the Don't Fight Your Demons album or the For the FKN Love album—when this stuff is as competitive as ever to the stuff we did in the '90s. That stuff frustrates me as an artist when I'm putting this kind of input in and the output is..."

He shakes his head pensively.

"If you don't have the outlets, there's nowhere this project can go. It's like...Okay, I know how a hit record gets made. I know how you start making money from records—it's not rocket science. It's just, you've gotta have teamwork; [and] not just on my team, but the world. There's gotta be DJs and people who are at least willing to listen to it and rock it, or else people aren't going to hear it and know the project exists."

With the amount of content being released, it's increasingly difficult to navigate. Especially when your fanbase is used to traditional outlets. Terrestrial radio still carries a lot of weight; and there's an overabundance of music being released constantly.

"There's an overload of data out there. It's different then back in the days...where you had to have a studio; you had to have engineers; you had to have a team of people just to make the record—you had to have a label to sign you to even get the money to make the record. Now, people are making it in their bedrooms. Everybody's making records. There's a huge amount of data out there; and there's not a lot of discover like it used to be."

"And the atmosphere has changed. Not only are pop stations playing our children's music, but it's also not very diverse. They're playing a particular sliver; and the rest is left to sort of fend for themselves. If you're young and you've got a street buzz, because you're young, people will do a lot of discovery and support for you. But artists that are older, a lot of our fans expect to hear us on the major stations. They expect to hear Arrested Development or Big Daddy Kane or Will Smith where they've always heard them. They're not trying to search online to find underground stuff. [For] a lot of folks over 40, that's not what they're trying to do everyday—they ain't got the time!"

"It's a dilemma on numerous levels," Speech concedes. "Because, obviously, if people don't know it exists, it's harder to perform it live all the time. Your fans that come to show are looking to hear the classic stuff from the 90s. They're not even aware that you've got two new albums that you're just itching to rock. And even if you throw in a few songs from that, you won't be able ot throw in as much as you want, because people simply don't know it exists."

Hip-Hop isn't something that you have to age out of. This is not sport, not matter how competitive it always is. This is art. This is Hip-Hop. And sharpening your skills over time, becoming a master in your craft; those are things that should be embraced and celebrated. While the future of Arrested Development may currently be in limbo, Speech is optimistic that, if more outlets embrace the idea of elder statesmen still creating viable music, we will see more releases from veteran acts.

"The more people can create those new outlets, the more I think people will start reviving their pen again. Like 'Let me go back at this,'" he says. "Because there's a place to put it now. There's a place for it to land.'"