missy_elliott_997164918.jpg

Missy Elliott

Photo by Paul Drinkwater/NBC/NBCU Photo Bank via Getty Images

News

'Da Real World' At 20: Missy Elliott Champions Women, Hip-Hop Rookies, And, Most Of All—Herself

Facebook Twitter Email
On her renowned second album, Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott came back even louder, sharper, and more unapologetic than before, earning her rightful title as the (other) Queen B*tch of Hip-Hop and R&B
Mark Braboy
GRAMMYs
Apr 5, 2019 - 12:18 pm

You don't need to listen to Charli XCX to know that the year 1999 was more or less a battleground for pop-culture relevancy.

While much of the nation was going crazy over the hyper-futuristic film The Matrix, widespread Y2K hysteria, and the horrific mass shooting at Columbine High School that would lead to a national debate around violence lyrics in music, the growing musical counterculture—particularly around hip-hop and R&B—was catalyzing a bold changing of the guard.

Hip-hop continued to grow by way of the game-changing takeover of Cash Money Records, Eminem's meteoric rise and Dr. Dre's return, the East Coast renaissance while reeling from the tragic murder of the Notorious B.I.G., and arguably one of the most impactful class of women between the two black genres such as Mary J. Blige, Lil' Kim, Eve, Destiny’s Child, and, of course, Missy Elliott (among others). It was a perfect storm of women’s empowerment and rightfully reclaiming the narrative around black women, artists and fans alike, during the heights of several iconic hip-hop labels, including the house Missy and Timbaland built, Blackground Records.

After the Virginia native dropped her 1997 groundbreaking debut album, Supa Dupa Fly, Missy became more prolific as one of the most in-demand producer/artists between hip-hop and R&B while being tapped to work on songs from the Why Do Fools Fall In Love and Dr. Dolittle soundtracks, along with albums by Destiny’s Child, Ginuwine, Total, and Whitney Houston. And while eager fans were salivating for Missy’s long-awaited follow-up, Da Real World, few saw the pressure she endured due to fear of the dreaded "sophomore slump."

"It was my hardest album because by that time the expectations were a lot higher. Once you get over that sophomore album, you feel like you're staying. It was the toughest album to make," explained Missy in a 2014 Billboard interview. "I thought, 'What do people expect of me next?' There weren't any expectations for the first album. The second album was like, 'This first album has got all these great reviews so where I do go from here?' I was overthinking everything. I didn't think twice about videos, but yes for music. 'Ah, I don't like that.' I drove Tim crazy.'"

Missy "Misdemeanor" Elliott had already broken the mold for what was expected for a female rapper as an uber-talented quadruple threat singer/rapper/producer/songwriter while being carefree, plus-sized black woman who proudly owned her femininity and audacious sense of sexuality. At a time where most female rappers were expected to appeal to the patriarchal gaze and be side additions to their male counterparts, Missy not only stood as Timbo’s equal, she became a musical superstar all in her own separate context.

Sonically, she, Timbaland and the Blackground Records roster (Aaliyah, Ginuwine, Playa, et. al.) influenced the R&B landscape prior to 1999 (as Missy and Timbo proudly proclaimed on the opener "Beat Biters"). This time, in the face of adversity, Missy would come back even louder, sharper, and more unapologetic than before, earning her rightful title as the (other) Queen Bitch of Hip-Hop and R&B with Da Real World.

From its core sound to its overall tone, the album was an aggressive and non-compromising shift from Supa Dupa Fly. While Missy’s debut stood out a carefree, bouncy, and fun romp, Da Real World carried an increased and appropriately measured seriousness in its dark, futuristic and polished production, matured content, and overt political nature with her controversial and defying reclaiming of the word "bitch" without being too heavy-handed. Fans received Missy at her most unapologetic at the time while still having a fun, focused and eclectic body of work.

Reclaiming the word "bitch" wasn’t a new concept in pop or black music culture at the time: Evolving from Queen Latifah and Salt-N-Pepa’s lyrical stances against the word "bitch" and its derogatory context, female artists began to empower themselves and claim their own narrative by taking the word back.

Throughout the late '90s, rappers like Lil' Kim and Trina challenged the negative connotations and redefined it on Hardcore and Da Baddest Bitch, respectively, while Missy herself alluded to the theme on Supa Dupa Fly. That same year, in 1997, Meredith Brooks released the defiant radio anthem, "Bitch (Nothing In Between)," which went on to become one of the biggest smash hits of that decade, not to mention a defining song for a cultural revolution among women.

Upon its release, Da Real World expanded on Brooks' concept in a broad and direct fashion. Her lead single, "She’s A Bitch," where she raps, "She's a bitch/ When you say my name/ Talk mo' junk but won't look my way/ She's a bitch/ See I got more cheese/ So back on up while I roll up my sleeves,” shows Missy reclaiming the word for the sake of empowerment, rallying against the double standard of male hip-hop artists being allowed to be aggressive and assertive while female rappers were, even to this day, expected to err on the side of demure.

Missy was well aware of the double-standard at the time, telling Interview Magazine, "Women are not always taken as seriously as we should be, so sometimes we have to put our foot down. To other people that may come across as being a bitch, but it’s just knowing what we want and being confident. If I’m paying people and they’re not handling my business right, I have to check them."

"For a guy, though, it’s just considered aggressive," she continued. "You don’t hear people call males 'bitches.' But I’ve heard that people talk that way about Chaka Khan. And Aretha Franklin: If it was cold in the studio, she’d put the mike down and leave. Someone who sees her act like that may say, 'She’s a bitch,' but she just means business when she says, 'Yo, please have the heat up when I get here.' Of course, nobody’s gonna call her a bitch to her face. But I hear makeup artists all the time saying, 'Oh, I had to do such-and-such’s makeup. She’s a bitch.'"

Era contemporaries were likewise eager to join in the conversation. On the smooth "Throw Your Hands Up (Interlude)," Lil' Kim bluntly brought its significance home when she proclaimed, "Ya see 'bitch' is a strong word and only strong bitches can use that muthafuckin’ terminology. Bitch! I mean if u can't wear the name, then don’t try to use it."

From her music videos to her physical appearance and fashion, Missy re-invented the wheel she had already re-invented after shedding pounds due to a health scare while going for an edgier and space-age look which was inspired by her then-favorite film at the time and cultural juggernaut, The Matrix. The videos for Da Real World only amplified the album’s dynamite sound and themes by bringing the explosive songs to life.

Starting with the visuals for "She’s A Bitch,” Missy's one-of-a-kind, highly animated treatments (often directed by Hype Williams) were still as outlandish as they were with Supa Dupa Fly, but edgier without sacrificing any of the charm that drew the masses in the first place. For example, the two million-dollar video for "She’s A Bitch" was a more dynamic contrast to the mellow and trippy treatment for "I Can’t Stand The Rain." Instead of a "trash back," Missy donned a fearsome, all-black outfit and even painted her face the same color amid a semi-apocalyptic landscape.

Meanwhile, the electrifying “Hot Boyz (remix)” was given the hip-hop Evel Knievel treatment with Missy in her glitzy racing outfit amid a burning, exploding structure. Those visuals in particular made a lasting impression on young millennials who grew up watching the beloved 24-hour music video channel, The Box.

While the music itself did not step any further outside, well, the box, compared to Supa Dupa Fly (and one could argue that sonically, the ambition is a bit stagnant), Da Real World still displayed her extraordinary versatility as Missy travels seamlessly through between hip-hop and R&B. Deep cuts like the dancehall-driven "Mr. DJ," "Stickin’ Chickens," and its chart-topping single, "All In My Grill," sound as exciting, slick, and organic as Supa Dupa Fly’s "Best Friends" and "Sock It 2 Me." And lyrically, there’s a healthy array as broad as a Wingstop platter of intense flows and bars ("Beat Biters," "Hot Boyz"), immersive concepts, ("You Don’t Know"), honeyed melodies, and twerk-friendly bangers.

While veteran music critics like Touré made a valid point, that Missy comes off as "unfocused lyrically," as her own bars don't necessarily outshine any of her world-class hip-hop collaborators, her over-the-top delivery, flow, clever, and easily infectious songwriting made up for that. She even admitted her own weakness in her raps in the previously quoted piece with Interview.

"The rapping is cool, but my lines aren’t all that fly. People like Biggie Smalls or Jay-Z who say stuff that you have to rewind and listen to twice and be like, 'Wow, what made them say that?' or 'I would have never thought about saying that'—those are rappers I really look up to. As far as flows, I can give you flows all day," she explained.

Da Real World, on its 20th anniversary should be a cherished hip-hop and R&B album for not only its ultra-polished, futuristic sound, but in its strong collaborations. Besides the memorable battle-of-the-sexes features from the returning Lil' Kim, Da Brat, and Aaliyah, along with vets Lady Saw, Big Boi, MC Solaar, Nicole Wray, Nas, and Redman, Da Real World hosted some extremely rare collaborations with a handful of the hottest and soon-to-be impactful rookies, including Juvenile, B.G., Lil' Mo, Eminem, Eve, and an emerging solo Beyoncé (Nas and Eve were only guests on the Hot Boyz remix, released separately from the album).

The lineup of then-newcomers was—and still are—special on Da Real World due to few circumstances. As one could tell, Lil Mo, Eve, Bey were individually poised for stardom, as Mo had a scene-stealing presence throughout on songs like the single "Hot Boyz" and the compelling drama "You Don’t Know." Eve was featuring on the "Hot Boyz (remix)" and the (literally) explosive video a few months prior to her solo debut Let There Be Eve dropping, and the former Destiny’s Child lead joined Missy on the spellbinding duet "Crazy Blessings."

In Juve, B.G, and Eminem’s case, not only did it shine a brighter light on them, but "You Can’t Resist" and "Busa Rhyme" would have them flexing their most savage lyrical chops outside of their Mannie Fresh and Dr. Dre, (respectively) padded comfort zones as they were brought into Timbaland and Missy’s ultramodern soundscape.

Missy even recalls a story of how she ended up reaching out to Em in her 2014 interview with Billboard.

"[Eminem] hadn't even came out with 'My Name Is' yet. I heard something of his and instantly told Tim, 'I need this guy on my album.' Immediately when I heard him rap I thought, 'He's special.' I had the label reach out to [Dr.] Dre. He did it (his verse). I heard it and thought, 'Oh, he's going to blow up,'” Missy recalled.

Of course, for all of its progressivism, Da Real World is not without problematic moments. While Eminem deserves a ton of credit for his hungry performance on "Busa Rhyme," in hindsight, lyrics like, "Spit game to these hoes/ Like a soap opera episode/ And punch a bitch in the nose til her whole face explodes/ There's three things I hate/ Girls, women, and bitches" don't age well in 2019. (Remember, at the time such controversial lyrics were only seen as “artistic expression” within the community itself.)

Despite its rocky start, peaking at No. 10 in the Billboard 200, amid steep competition from mainstream pop blockbusters like Britney Spears' debut ...Baby One More Time, the Wild Wild West soundtrack, and albums from Ricky Martin, Backstreet Boys, and Limp Bizkit, Da Real World still went platinum, selling over one million units.

Whatever its response at the time, Da Real World should be recognized as a body of work that stood both on its own and apart from the pack of late-'90s production gloss that, all too often, masked artists' true talent. If anything, Missy's abilities as a storyteller, an unapologetic songbird, and a club maestro, combined with Timbaland’s world-breaking production, only helped set the stage for her third album, Miss E…So Addictive. 

Da Real World was and remains an important album from the '90s for its songs and visuals that continue to be adored and cherished by hip-hop fans everywhere. And while it was made at the end of the millennium, it was clearly built to last multiple eras through its sonics and overall theme of being the baddest "bitch" possible. And in that goal, it succeeded.

On 'Things Fall Apart,' The Roots Deepened Hip-Hop

Gov't Mule

Photo: Geoff Tischman

News

Warren Haynes Talks New Gov't Mule Doc, Writing With Gregg Allman & Growing Young

Facebook Twitter Email
Haynes opens up about Danny Clinch's new live-concert documentary 'Bring On The Music,' what he learned from writing songs with Gregg Allman and music's power to heal and rejuvenate artists and fans alike
Nate Hertweck
GRAMMYs
Jul 22, 2019 - 4:20 pm

Want to know what music can do to help us through life's challenges and the loss of loved ones? Just ask Warren Haynes, GRAMMY winner, guitar legend, prophetic songwriter, longtime Allman Brothers Band member and founder of Gov't Mule:

"You realize that sometimes music is not just a way of getting through the hardships, it goes beyond that. It turns the hardships into something beautiful and something positive."

Haynes speaks these transcendent words in the opening minutes of GRAMMY nominee Danny Clinch's imaginative new rock concert documentary Bring On The Music, which celebrates 25 years of Gov't Mule by capturing two nights of the band performing at the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, N.Y. In the film, Clinch boldly blends an omniscient nine-camera live-show capture with backstage interviews, stripped-down warm-up performances and man-on-the-street Mule-head testimonials, providing an enthralling look at life in the service of music from every angle, all with a visual verisimilitude that is quintessential Clinch.

The electricity and wonder Bring On The Music captures and creates is especially striking when you consider that, in the beginning, Gov't Mule almost never kicked their way out of the stall.

"For a band that didn't know we would do a second year or a second album, the fact that we've done 10 studio records and gone past the 20-year mark as a band is pretty mind-blowing for us," Hayes admits in the film.

But for all the history a quarter century contains, Bring On The Music exists in the now, shining a light on Gov't Mule's inexorable connection with their fans via soulful, psychedelic, mesmerizing live music. Haynes spoke with the Recording Academy recently about what the milestone means to him, working with Clinch, looking back at losing Gov't Mule's original bassist Allen Woody, what he learned from the late Gregg Allman and why these days he feels like a much younger man.

Congratulations on 25 years of Gov't Mule and on the new project. Were there any surprises for you on working on this live album and film considering it's a different creative process from what the band has explored before?

One of the great things about working with Danny Clinch was that we've known each other for so long, and I completely trust and respect what he does. And it allowed me to just concentrate on the performance part of it and just try to make it where it was just another night, or two nights, even though it wasn't just another two nights. The more we could relax and approach it that way, the better the results were going to be. So I put a lot of trust in Danny's hands, and for good reason.

Why do you think he's become the go-to music photographer and filmmaker?

Well, it's several things. I mean, you look at his work, and it speaks for itself. He's got a beautiful eye and a wonderful imagination and a wonderful concept of depth and contrast. But as a person, he's just so unassuming and someone that you want to be around. Danny and I would be friends if we didn't work together, and he has that kind of endearing quality that you feel from the very beginning... He loves music and art and photography for all the same reasons that I do, but it goes well beyond that, to being a sweet person, a cool person, and I think everyone you talk to would have a similar description.

There's a beautiful moment in the film where you're playing the intro to "Bring On The Music" backstage and then it opens up into the full-band performance. How did that cinematic idea come together and why did you choose that particular song as the title track of the film?

Well, that song, lyrically, deals with loss and the passing of time, and also with the relationship between the band and our audience. And that seemed to sum up a lot of what was in the front of our minds when we were embarking on our 25th anniversary. And it was Danny's idea to film that acoustic intro in the stairwell backstage, and it just seamlessly flows into the recorded version that we did. I think it's an appropriate title for a lot of reasons, because 25 years later, from Gov't Mule's perspective, it's all about the music. That's what's gotten us wherever we are.

We've had an interesting journey, and it's still continuing and still growing. And the audience is still growing, but all of our decisions that we've made throughout our career have just been based on what felt right to us. They've never been based what we thought people wanted from us, or expected from us, or what the marketplace or the industry wanted or expected from us. It was always been just doing what felt good. And 25 years later, we're all extremely grateful that we have an opportunity to do that, to do what we love exactly how we love to do it.

In the film, you talk about this concept of music being able to turn hardships into something beautiful and something positive. Looking back at the past 25 years, is there an era of the band, or an album, where you can recall that being especially true for you personally?

Well, when I look at the songs that I wrote before [2000's Life Before] Insanity, when I look back at that now, it was foreshadowing what we were about to go through unknowingly. And then after losing Woody in 2000, of course, the only way we knew to move forward was to do the deep end sessions with all the different bass players, who are all Allen Woody's favorite bass players and our favorite bass players. So each day, we would walk into the studio, and his rig would be set up where he used to stand. And a different legendary bass player, sometimes two different legendary bass players, would come in and plug into his rig and record with us. And that was a healing path. That was a very cathartic way of dealing with such a massive loss for us, and it was the only way I think we could have dealt with it.

So those times were extremely bittersweet. On one hand, we're playing music and recording, and in some cases, riding with Woody's heroes. But on the other hand, the reason they're there is because he's gone... Speaking for myself, and I think [Gov't Mule drummer] Matt [Abts] as well, in the beginning, we didn't even think it was a possibility to keep going. But once we did decide to keep going, that seemed to be the best path forward. And we got a lot of encouragement from our friends, many of which who had lost band members.

And so, here it is all these years later. The last two or three years have been filled with a lot of loss. In the Allman Brothers, we lost Butch [Trucks] and Gregg back-to-back. And so, it affects the way you live, it affects the way you think, it affects the way you write, it affects the way you play and sing. But there's a celebratory [nature] to it, which is we're all still here and lucky to do what it is that we love to do.

"Music becomes more and more important as time goes on. And I really believe that, that as important as music has always been in my life, it's even more important now." –Warren Haynes

Wow, that's a powerful notion. If I could ask you a follow up about Gregg: What did you learn from him as a songwriter, and then what do you personally remember most about Gregg Allman?

Well, Gregg and I met in 1980, or '81, and went around the world together several times, played so much music together. We wrote a lot of songs together, and of course, I was a really big fan before we ever met. I learned more from Gregg Allman before I ever met him than I did all the years that I knew him, just because of how much I loved and studied his music.

When we started writing songs together, some of things that made an impression on me beyond what I had learned from a distance were the way he tended to not rush things. I'm one of these people that when I'm writing, I'm caught up in the moment and I want to stay in the moment until it wears itself out. Gregg was always like, we would work for a little while, and he'd say, "Let's step away and take a break, and we'll come back in a little while and look at it from a different perspective." He was a never in a hurry to rush the creative process, and he was really good at simplifying.

He told me a long, long time ago that when you were writing a lyric, one of the most important things was how it's sung. And so, if you had a great line, but it didn't roll off the tongue so well, it was more important to find a different way of saying that, that did sing well.

And he was really good at doing that. He had told me at one time that sometimes when he got stumped, he would imagine Ray Charles, like, "How would Ray Charles sing that line?" And so, I found myself imagining the same thing about him, especially now that he's gone. Like, "How would Gregg sing this line, and how would he change it if it needed to be changed?"

But we wrote a lot together, especially the last 10 years or so that he was around. I think one of the things that might surprise people… A lot of people probably assume that I was writing the music and he was writing the lyrics, and in some cases, it was the exact opposite. There were times when he came up with music and I wound up writing the lyric, or maybe it was a combination, but it meant more that way. And we trusted each other in a way, that if he felt like something was complete, then I would bow to that, and vice versa. And also, if he felt like it was unfinished, then I would bow to that, and vice versa.

Also in the film you say once you sign on for music, you sign on for life, and you're a student for life. But I think a lot of musicians get this sense that there are these masters out there, and you're certainly one of them. So I'm curious, because you do have a fervor for learning, what are you excited about now and working on and exploring in terms of musical ideas or techniques?

Well, I'm right now, thinking a lot about what the next Gov't Mule record is going to sound like, what it's going to entail from a songwriting perspective. The first record on the other side of our 25th anniversary, I know in some ways we're going to revisit the beginning and comfortably explore some of our earliest roots and concepts, but I'm sure we're also going to go into some places we've never gone before. I've been writing some instrumental music for the first time in quite a while, and some of the stuff seems to be influenced differently than maybe instrumentals that I've written in the past. As far as playing, I'm just trying to always look at things with a little bit different perspective.

We're performing all the time, so it's a gradual process and a perpetual process, of trying to decide the parts of your playing that you want to concentrate less on and open yourself up to other ideas and other approaches. It's hard to put into words what I mean by that. But I'm thinking right now that there are some new doors opening for me that I'm going to travel through that in some ways just are based on the way you think about playing and the way you listen to music as an entity and the way you look at music as an entity.

You had said before about being a student, and there are all these wonderful guitar players that I learned from, and even the ones that I put into the absolute top of the heap, I think everyone walks off stage from time thinking, "I was terrible tonight." And that's just part of it. That's part of what being a student is. I can't imagine anyone that's achieved greatness who always thinks of themselves as being great and having no need or desire to get better.

Yeah, that's one thing I love most about the guitar: there's always something new for you to turn the page to and discover.

Yeah, and no matter who you listen to, even if it's someone who's just starting on the instrument, or someone who's been playing 50-plus years, someone in a completely different genre, you hear something that they do that you would never have thought of yourself. And that's inspiring.

Every time I hear someone else play, I get some sort of idea that triggers something in my own head, because that's one of the unique things about music is it comes from inside a person's brain and spirit and soul. And each person is different, so they have something different to offer that the rest of us would never think of.

That's a great point. Just one more question for you, Warren. There's a great quote in the movie where you say, "I feel like a much younger man." Why do you feel like a younger man now, 25 years into your time with this band?

Well, it's all flown by. It doesn't feel like 25 years since we started Gov't Mule. It doesn't feel like 30 years since I joined the Allman Brothers. I get reminded sometimes that I'm 59 years old, but I don't think of myself that way. I don't know if there's an age that I think of myself as, but it wouldn't be 59.

David Crosby On 'Remember My Name': "It's An Opportunity To Tell The Truth"

News

Lee Burridge Hopes His New Album With Lost Desert, 'Melt,' Helps You See Passion & Truth In Yourself

Facebook Twitter Email
"[My hope is] that people will listen from the beginning to the end…Because it's passion, it's honesty, it's truth and hopefully other people will find that in themselves," the All Day I Dream founder recently told the Recording Academy
Ana Yglesias
GRAMMYs
Jul 22, 2019 - 3:31 pm

If you've ever attended a transformational music festival (like Southern California's Lightning In A Bottle) or enjoyed the underground house scene in the last 36 years, you probably know Lee Burridge. The British DJ/producer is perhaps as well-known for his dreamy, expansive electronic music and the joyful All Day I Dream events and label that showcase those sounds, as he is for his ever-present smile.

Recently, on July 19, he released Melt, his debut full-length, produced collaboratively with Belgian labelmate Lost Desert, who Burridge explains has helped expand his own skills in the studio. The pair have released a handful of tracks and EPs together since 2016, including "Lingala" that year. It features evocative vocals from Junior, who sings on the track in native Congolese language, Lingala. A new version of the song appears on Melt, along with another Junior-powered track, "Mibale." Across ten songs in an hour and seven minutes, the LP is the perfect soundtrack to play as you soak in the magic feeling of enjoying a sunny day outside and watching the clouds pass by, as is encouraged at ADID.

Back in 2011, Burridge launched ADID on a Brooklyn rooftop. It has grown exponentially, into a label and a global event series that highlights a growing, talented crew of house and techno DJ/producers, like Öona Dahl, Lauren Ritter, Bedouin and YokoO.

As Burridge, the other artists and their loyal fan base helps bring the vibey parties to more cities, including Berlin, Ibiza, London and Los Angeles, ADID feels like a movement to create more mindfulness and joy in the dance music space. Sitting down with Burridge at an extra-sunny edition of San Francisco's June ADID, he explains that creating mindfulness is exactly what he set out to do.

"This is the soundtrack to collective engagement and community building. This is really important to me to bring people together, it always was. And also to make them smile. That was actually the first intention at the first party and it's never changed," Burridge said of the events.

Below, Burridge tells the Recording Academy more about the intention behind ADID, Melt and more. 

Junior performs live with Burridge at ADID SF | Photo: Roshanak Sariaslan

So you started the All Day I Dream events in Brooklyn about eight years ago? Was it at the Output rooftop?

In 2011, yes. No, I scouted a rooftop one year before. I basically moved into it. They did a job, set up some speakers and two tables, my equipment, a bar. It was baking hot, July 4th. And I just thought, "I can do this better." I'd been to Burning Man. I thought, "It's very gray, I'll hang up material, lanterns and fairy lights and make it look not like an industrial rooftop in Brooklyn. I'll create a world." And that was it. It was just an empty space with a really wonky, wobbly floor that was made of a sort of soft material. The hotter it got, the wonkier the floor got.

Was that the birth of All Day I Dream as it is today? Can you give us a bit more of the origin story?

I mean, it was the birth of the event, the origins came from not being content with where music was and wanting to add another layer or another option for people. Melody, harmony, emotion had kind of been drained by minimal. And that's cool because people are having a great time with minimal, but me personally, I was noticing it being a lot more men at events. Like 95% men at some events, all in black T-shirts.

I really wanted to rebalance that energy out in club land because there seemed to be less options that were attracting girls. And I think it's not only the music, because minimal was a good sound for girls and guys, but I think it was also the tipping point of too many men at a party becomes less comfortable. And it was in black, dirty warehouses with one toilet that had been overflowing for like nine hours.

So I was exploring and trying to find that music to try and play in a set, which became a mix that was released on Resident Advisor. Then I played a set like it at Lightning In A Bottle. Everybody else was playing banging [electronic music]. And it really worked, people really connected to it. Then I started playing it at Burning Man, BPM Festival and when 2010 came around, I played that kind of music on that rooftop and it seemed so perfect with the sun setting. But I just knew that I could do it better and add other things to it to create this world. That was the first step forward that I had hoped people would connect to the idea and then it would allow me to take it around the world, which, fast forward nine [ADID] seasons, and here we are.

Related: Jan Blomqvist Talks Playing Coachella, Berlin Techno & Covering The Rolling Stones

With the ADID events, it seems very intentional that mindfulness and just being present is at the forefront of the events. I think part of it is the music itself and your presence and the people that you bring together, but is this something that is important to you?

This is the soundtrack to collective engagement and community-building. This is really important to me to bring people together, it always was. And also to make them smile. That was actually the first intention at the first party, and it's never changed.

I think the music is a filter of sorts, it's not for everybody. Everybody's welcome of course, but you really kind of draw a line with some people, it's not enough energy for them or it's not focused enough on pumping your fist in the air. They don't come and then we get this amazing collection of people that we have ended up with. One of the proudest things is, I've said this a few times, is that I've had over 30 couples that have come up and said, "We met at your event and now we're married." That's amazing to me.

"This is the soundtrack to collective engagement and community building. This is really important to me to bring people together, it always was. And also to make them smile. That was actually the first intention at the first party and it's never changed."

You often open the events with yoga and meditation, which is really cool. Is there anything that you've learned along the way, or anything else that you do to make sure that vibe remains at all the events as you grow to more cities?

By not selling the event to people and letting it grow organically, letting people bring their friends. They are the best filters we have. We could get so many more people and make so much money, but it's not the drive. Of course, the event now makes money, but we put money back into the event to make the event better for people. I always wanted to do that, it never really was a financial project for me. It was a community building project for me.

And to leave it in the hands of everybody else, to not make it my party and make it everybody's party. Of course, we're not the first people to ever have yoga at an event, it's been existing for years, but we definitely want to keep building on other experiences people can have. But at the end of the day, as you just said in the previous question, about the music not being really the center of the experience, absolutely. Because people should come and sit on a blanket and literally look at the sky if they want and listen or hang out with their friends. A lot of people use it as a sort of social meeting point to either make new friends or to bring their friends all together at the same time. And there's not so many of those out there. People go to a festival with a group of friends, but sometimes you're so focused on I need to be here, I need to be there. It seems to be more relaxed it at this event.



View this post on Instagram


All Day I Downward Dog

A post shared by All Day I Dream (@alldayidreamintheclouds) on

Yeah. Less shoving.

Totally. You can dance your ass off, but also you can just wander around, look at how cool people look, you can enjoy the food. It's not really a pop in, schmooze, I was there. People sort of come and commit to it. I love that because I have the same energy.

You said ADID is not really about you, but you're still running it, making sure it happens. What's your favorite thing about being a part of it?

Actually getting to develop new artists now. I always wanted to help everybody along my way. You know, "come and DJ with me, we should do this together." A few years ago I tried to do it, but I wasn't really at that part of my career where it was easy. Sure, I got gigs for a few friends and it helped a bit.

But with this, I get to curate, explore, discover and then, sort of, impart advice. All the mistakes I made along the way, maybe I can expedite that younger artist's growth and experience within the industry. Because we didn't go to school for this, we just sort of fumbled forward and discovered and loved it, and went wholeheartedly into it. But that doesn't mean you're good at it. I see some people that are great business people and I see others that are just true artists. I feel like we should all be somewhere in the middle.

And those that have been successful shouldn't be paranoid about losing their position. They should totally be pushing, influencing and growing the industry. Because it's not about losing your place, it's about the industry getting bigger. That's been a joy for me to see the successes. It's almost like you're vicariously living other parts of your career through younger people. I'm not going to be doing this forever, but I'd like the scene, all this music, to be out there in the world as long as possible because it's positive for people. It's enjoyable. It allows them to have a group of friends that they can empathize with and experience things with.

I want to touch back to when you mentioned the underground scene was all minimal. Going into it were you like, "I want to see if I can create another lane here"?

100%. I found a few artists that had made some records that really blew my mind. Because I came from—I love saying this because it makes me sound so old—I am from a time where DJs used to play long sets and some of them had this innate ability to make you feel like you were on a roller coaster. It wasn't one specific thing. It wasn't this banging energy. I could do that 'til the cows come home and it works.

But there are other lanes, as you say, to really weave together music. If you go to a classical music symphony, it's not one thing, is it? It really has crescendos and it has drops in it and you're on an emotional roller coaster. So it really made sense to me, if I'm going to play music that has emotional elements to it, without being overly cheesy or obvious or overdramatic, that it made sense to actually think of a beginning, a middle and an end, and everything in between. So I integrated that into what the whole thing should feel like.

I also had anthems. Music moves so fast, you might come to a party and only hear a song once. In New York, it was four parties and I decided on about ten records that I would play every single party. They weren't particularly big records at the time, but people grew into them and then were crying because they loved them so much. Then they were asking for them, after they owned them at home or streamed them. I think it was coming back to how it used to be previously for me and seeing if it resonated with people still. It does.

Obviously, I can do that through the label now, but I also do it with any track I find. Every year I try to have a few that they're identifiable with that year at that party, everywhere you go and they're moments, you know? Not fleeting moments, they actually are moments you can build on and become bigger moments.

Yeah, so there was a lot of thought behind it on my part. One of the mistakes I made, but also of the things that worked, was the first ADID New Year's parties I played for the whole seven hours. I got to tell the whole story. And still to this day, it's hard to step away from the project because I'm so integral to it. I'd like to because I'd like the other artists to be more in the spotlight, which is why sometimes I'll put myself on in the middle set and let another artist close, because they deserve it. A lot of the time you don't get that opportunity.

So I was kind of shocked to realize that your album that's coming out soon is your first full-length, because you've put out tons of great music.

Yeah. Finally, right now, when it's not relevant to do albums anymore.

I think albums are coming back, honestly.

No, no, this is the point. We wanted to buck the trend a little bit because people tend to put a collection of tracks on an album in dance music and then there's just a bunch of singles. I really enjoyed listening to albums all the way through and just because it's out of vogue right now doesn't mean it won't find the right people. So, we decided to do an album.

I'm not really a producer, that's the thing. It's not my first skillset. I have to work with people and sort of guide the ship. Everybody I've worked with is super talented. I'm sure they do quite a load. I'm just giving them more ideas and taking them to different worlds. So Lost Desert really even didn't even exist, actually. I mean, he existed as a man, but he didn't exist as an artist then. He was in the middle of nowhere ghost writing, feeling he missed the wave. We became friends and I was like, "there's a new way to catch a ride," and here we are today.

It's one thing to make a track together, but with a full album I'm sure there's points where your visions differ. What was your favorite part about collaborating on that project and what was the hardest part about it?

I thought the differences are the best part because they pull left and right. If you eat a dish that has one ingredient, it doesn't taste the same as if you throw a couple in there. And his emotional journey through life and my emotional journey and our professional journeys led to a lot of conversations about who we are as people and what's happened to us in our lives. And then we've tapped into those experiences of ups and downs, of things that you wish you'd done, but then we say, "Why don't we do it?"

And I actually got to make a friend out of it which was important on a very deep level for me. Again, the music will stay out there in the world, and I have this friendship that was built by being really honest with somebody in the studio about how you feel and just learning from somebody, actually. Patrick [Bruyndonx]—Lost Desert—has so much talent, it's so raw and just gushes out. He could make a thousand tracks in a year. But you need another person to just sit and really focus on what's actually coming out and whether that resonates out in the world. As people, our moods change on a daily basis. If he's tapping into an angry day where somebody's turned up and shouted at him, perhaps that's not the message we want to put out there in the world right now to represent him.

My favorite bit was the learning. And growing as a producer for me, because if I'm compared to Patrick, I'm still in my infancy. He's teaching me the walk. I can articulate what I want, but I'm a one finger keyboard player. I used to be afraid to do that but he encouraged it and now at least I can, again, muddle forward and we can get to where I hear something in my head.

So now, when you're producing, do you prefer to do collaborative work?

I think I have to only do collaborative. I think I'm a long way off of even making a single on my own.

"It's never too late for anybody to make music. If you feel like you have any sort of creativeness inside you, why not?"

When you first started DJing, was producing something you were scared to try?

I just was busy being a DJ, I think. I was in Hong Kong and back in the day, when I used to party all the time, my days were being up all night and sleeping all day. I didn't put time in, which is my one regret, that I didn't allocate more time to learning then because it was time I could have started on the path. But it's never too late for anybody to make music. If you feel like you have any sort of creativeness inside you, why not? I mean, you don't have to release it. Sometimes you just make it for yourself.

Honestly, I could have just paid Patrick and this could be a Lee Burridge album, but I don't like artists that do that because it's not really a representation of who you are. And I want to always big up everybody I work with. I mean, we tried to put Patrick's name first on the album, because I think he deserves that, and everybody was saying, "No, you're the bigger artist." I understand why, but I'm definitely going to make sure he gets his credit for being the true talent behind the music. I guess I'm much like an executive producer.

When you've made a name for yourself and you're good at what you do, it can be easy to just keep doing that. But it sounds like it was a great experience for both of you.

It was. Fantastic!

Are you going to make more albums together?

Absolutely. I mean, we're already starting the new one. We're both hugging each other constantly going, "Thank you so much." From me for various things, but definitely in the case of making the album, Patrick's generosity, and from him for plucking him from obscurity, I guess, and giving him the opportunity.

How did you first meet?

The real version or the lie? I said I was hiking through a desert and I heard strange sounds coming from around the corner and found Lost Desert field recording in the Serengeti. It works. I wanted it to give it some mystique. You know, we didn't say his real name at the beginning and then people buy into things, and why not?

It could have been that, but we just played together in Belgium and luckily he had been on as the warmup DJ. I really liked him, I felt that "I want to get to know this guy." I never go to after parties anymore and he said, "Do you want to come to my house?" We went and sat and listened to music all night after we played and we just really got along. Then we started talking and then I just was like, "Can I come work in the studio with you?" I took the train from London and went to the studio and we started making music. "Lingala" actually came out of that. So it's magical. It's magical to still be able to have the drive to learn, not just be, as you say, stuck in a lane where everything's fine. I like learning, I have a thirst for it.

How are you feeling about sharing the project now, your first LP?

I'm really excited. I listened to it a lot and, ego free, it's a nice album. It's cohesive and it has some really nice moments. We worked with Junior who's going to sing today, he's got an amazing voice. I have no fear because I don't think we have any aspirations for it to be number one or anything, you know? We're putting some work out there and hopefully people will find it and enjoy it for a moment. Or it'll mark people's summertimes.

I gave it to a few friends who I knew would critique me, but the worst I got was, "It's kind of an album you'd hear in a restaurant in Ibiza all summer." I think that's amazing. People will have Shazam, I don't need to just be discovered at my own gig playing a record. I think it's really important to reach other worlds and that's a brilliant place to hear music. I've Shazamed plenty of things in restaurants, so it makes me happy to think that they said that.

I like that.

No, and also everything's always out of our control. So, 100% there'll be, "This is dull, it doesn't sound fresh," because the person who's listening, it's not their jam. And other people will be gushing. I think you learn more from criticism than you do from praise. So bring all of it on. I'm going to read everything that's said and it's not to fill my heart with joy that people love it or this might do well, I actually want to read what people didn't like. And then the next album, maybe somewhere in my subconscious that will sort of spike other ideas.

What was your biggest vision or hope for this project?

That people will listen from the beginning to the end is all, and realize it's one piece of work that is a journey. And maybe win some more people into committing to an album rather than three minutes of a track or just 30 seconds. Because it's passion, it's honesty, it's truth and hopefully other people will find that in themselves.

"[My hope is] that people will listen from the beginning to the end is all…Because it's passion, it's honesty, it's truth and hopefully other people will find that in themselves."

And then what about for All Day I Dream, what's your biggest hope and wish for—

All Weekend I Dream is the next cycle.

A festival?

Yes. But we want to approach it in a different way, that it's not just relentless music. There's a lot of talk of the mental health consciousness. So we're going to approach it in a different way and actually have things for people to do, it's not just party after party. Lots of quality things that people can connect to, but they can also go sit and have dinner with their friends or go have a nap, and just approach a weekend a bit differently.

You travel a lot with ADID events and other DJ gigs. Do you have any self-care musts to stay grounded when you're on the road?

Meditation, 100%. And stretching out after the gig. When I get back to the hotel, I'll always stretch for at least half an hour because I'm old. I throw my body around and forget I'm old because my spirit is exactly the same age it's always been.

How old is that?

And then I wake up. I'm 50 at the moment.

No, your spirit.

Oh, my spirit. Oh I don't know, like two and a half with the maturity of a 15-year-old. [Grins.] I forget and I'll wake up in the morning, [saying], "Oh my legs, my back." Ever since I started stretching, I don't really suffer from that anymore. So definitely meditation and stretching.

Agoria On Making His First Album In Eight Years, Playing Coachella & The Architecture Of Dance Music

CHAI

Photo by CHAI

News

CHAI On Redefining "Cute," Subverting Uniformity & Tasting American Ramen

Facebook Twitter Email
The Japanese quartet go deep on their debut album, 'PUNK,' playing their first Pitchfork Fest and why they want to "be looked at as more than just a band"
Jennifer Velez
GRAMMYs
Jul 22, 2019 - 2:01 pm

CHAI are determined to stand out. Hailing from Japan, a country whose culture praises uniformity, CHAI are making rock-influenced dance music for people who want to move to their own beat. But they're breaking more than one stereotype: Yuuki (bass), Kana (guitar), Mana (vocals) and Yuna (drums) are on a mission to change the ideals placed on women's bodies, specifically with the term "cute," or in Japanese, "kawaii." 

So CHAI came up with the term "Neo Kawaii," which means that all girls are pretty from the moment they are born. "There is not a single girl that is not kawaii," CHAI  state on their website. "You don't need to have big eyes or have skinny legs to be kawaii! Not everyone needs to follow the stereotypical  image of kawaii."

The message was heard loud and clear across the lawn at Union Park at their Pitchfork Fest set on Saturday. In matching outfits and ponies, CHAI energetically and enthusiastically took Chicagoans through songs from their punchy debut album, PUNK, which recalls dancefloor staples like Basement Jaxx, Gorillaz, CSS, and Tom Tom Club. The 10-track album, which is more inspired by the spirit of punk than the genre itself, showcases confident lyrics that proclaim with certainty: "I don’t know about the world, but I know me... What a cute girl I am!"

The Recording Academy spoke with the charming quartet about playing overseas, pushing back against the Japanese interpretation of "cute," covering ABBA's "Dancing Queen" and more. 

How's your time at Pitchfork Fest going?

Yuna: We were super exited. We're so happy to be here.

Yuuki: We're having a great time. It's actually our dream.

Kana: I also feel like this is our dream so we're super exited to be here and we're blessed.

Yuna: It's actually not just our dream to play America, but [to play] Pitchfork itself. We actually were written about in Pitchfork, which is amazing for us too. Also we just want to do everything, we wanna go to every country, we want to win a GRAMMY, we want so many things.

Yuuki: Yeah, we are super excited to be able to do anything in America. I think being able to tour in the States is our number one thing.

How is it singing exclusively in Japanese to an English-speaking audience? 

Kana: We don't even think about that at all.

Yuuki: Yeah, to be honest with you, we never thought about that at all. We don't think about whether the lyrics gonna be understood or not. For us it's more soul, music is universal, and I don't think you necessarily need a language for people to understand where you are coming from. We just love going out for the fact that the music, the sound is what gets the people and relates with people.

How did you all meet?

Mana: We were all friends, form the beginning. Myself, my twin sister Kana and Yuna, we went to the same high school. We were in the same music club together, so that's where we actually started jamming and doing the music thing. Yuuki we met later on in college.

I want to talk about your album, PUNK. What was the inspiration behind it?

Yuuki: This album PUNK, it wasn't based on the genre. It's actually based on the feelings, the mentality of being, the spirituality of being punk. Living in your truth, not letting anybody dictate how you wanna live your life. We were influenced by a lot of music, a lot of musicians: Superorganism, Justice and ERD. A lot of the musical inspirations have actually played a part in our songs in that PUNK album.

A lot of your music touches on body image and reclaiming the word "cute." What inspired you to make this album about that?

Yuuki: For us you know, doing not only this album but also our first album pretty much our theme is "Neo-Kawaii," which translates to "New Cute." I think in Japan at least, the word "cute" is a big compliment. It's sexy, beautiful, all those type of words are all intertwined with the word "cute." I notice in the States sometimes they might refer to people as cute when they are little or when they are shorter or like, "Oh you know you all, you so cute" like a little kid. But in Japan cute is actually considered more like a beautiful word. For us, because we didn't fit into those standards of cute in Japan, we decided to create this word, "Neo-Kawaii," which is the "New Cute" to represent everybody that doesn't fit into those standards that are set by society right now. For us, we wanted to create this word so that we can compliment one another for those who don't feel like they fit into the traditional 'Kawaii' or cute definition.

Is there anything you want U.S. audiences to know about you as a band?

Kana: We want you to see freedom when you see us.

Yuuki: We want you to see something you have never seen before.

Yuna: Something you never heard before.

Mana: Something you've never seen before. For us, we don't wanna just be just a band. We wanna be looked at as more than just a band.

Would you call your music empowering?

Yuuki: We're not really conscious about it when we're making the songs, as far as whether they are empowering or not. It's actually more so our personal experiences in Japan that we just write about, that just so happens to empower people. One of which is, because in Japan, everybody tends to be very uniform, everybody tends to do the same thing, dress the same way, and if you are that one person, the outsider, who does something a little bit different, you're automatically turned down or slapped down or told, "Hey, what are you doing, you're not supposed to be doing that," and we did not really like that. So for us it was more like, okay, what do we do to empower people who kinda feel like us who kinda feel like outsiders in this society where everyone is the same? I guess that's what translated into empowerment, naturally.

I loved your cover of ABBA's "Dancing Queen." What made you want to cover ABBA?

Yuna: We all love ABBA. That's particularly because it's like a very motherly type of vibe that ABBA gives, and we like that whole motherly type of vibe. We wanted to give that to everybody on the stage and make people feel wholesome, and we chose ABBA to cover for our last tour.

Is there a song on the album that you feel particularly close to?

Mana: For all of us, we really love the song "Curly Adventure." It was the first time that we worked with an outside engineer, not a Japanese engineer. We worked with an American engineer for that one, and also the sound was very different for us. That was the only one that was different. I think that's what we really like, that song particularly, it was totally different for us, as something very new for CHAI, something very fresh. 

What's been your greatest tool as artists?

Yuna: Food is number one. We love to eat, you know? Anything food-related. Particularly meat. Any type of meat is great with me.

What's your favorite part of American culture?

Yuuki: The friendliness. Everyone is super friendly. They talk to people they don't know. They embrace one another, they hug each other. People just naturally hold the door for one another. Just really simple things like that. It's totally different.

Kana: For me too, it's the same thing. I feel that people are just super loving and we just feel the love. America is totally different that way, people say goodnight to each other on the elevator.

You mentioned food... What do you think of Japanese food in the States? You can be honest.

Yuuki: I think ramen is the best thing here.

Mana: Yeah, ramen I think is really good here but everything else I don't know.

Kana: Yeah, I don't know of anything else besides ramen.

Yuna: California rolls and also salmon and avocado rolls are really good here. But everything else? Hmm. That's a question mark. 

Rico Nasty On Being Fearless & The Importance Of Highlighting Black Women's Emotions

JPEGMAFIA

Photo: Kalina Simone

News

JPEGMAFIA On 'Veteran,' "Call Me Maybe" & How He Wants To Disappoint You

Facebook Twitter Email
"It's 2019, and there's a certain amount of people who are excited for me to literally let them down. That's beautiful," the rapper told us backstage at Pitchfork Fest
Jennifer Velez
GRAMMYs
Jul 22, 2019 - 12:00 pm

There is a sense of liberation JPEGMAFIA  reserves for a live stage. At his Sunday set at Pitchfork Fest in Chicago’s Union Park that freedom involved letting out some rage. 

His energetic set included single “Vengeance | Vengeance,” and “I Cannot F***ing Wait Until Morrissey Dies” from his latest full-length album, the politically charged and pop culture opinionated Veteran.

But fans at the fest reminded the rapper that they’re waiting for his forthcoming latest album that has yet to be released. "Oh the disapointment is coming very soon," he answered back from stage the same way he’s been answering questions about it on social media.

 The self-proclaimed "self-hating millennial" and former Air Force veteran isn't a new artist. He's been working on music most of his life, and the success of Veteran isn't lost on him. 

"One consistent good thing I can say about the music industry is that at least I can make music freely now," he says, "and I don't have to do it when I'm off of a nine to five."

The Recording Academy spoke to the rapper after his Pitchfork set about Veteran, his popular "Call Me Maybe" cover, his latest single "The Who," his time serving in the Air Force and how he feels about and the impending dissappointment of his new project.

First off, I have to ask about your Twitter bio, which says you're a "self-hating millennial." Tell me more about that one. What does that mean?

I mean, it's self-explanatory, you know? At the time I wrote it, I was being cheeky, but it actually has meaning now because "millennial" is such a colloquialism. Am I using that word right? You know, millennial, people think, "Oh, millennial this and millennial that." So it's just like every millennial, I hate myself, I guess.

How are you liking this year's Pitchfork Fest? How is it paying for today's crowd?

I loved it. The crowd was really- there's a lot of f***ing people you know. I'm always [surprised] when it happens 'cause I come from not a lot of people coming out. It was really good. There was a lot of people.

You're very honest about how you feel surprised by your success, especially with Veteran. Why are you so surprised?

I just been making music for a long time. You know, it wasn't working for so long that when it started working, it was just kind of surprising, you know? It's still kind of, but you know, I'm not going to be like Taylor Swift and being surprised like 10 years later and s***.

What has kept you going? What has motivated you?

Always wanting to make music. I enjoy making music more than anything in the world. It's the only thing that it's felt the same since I was like 15. Everything else changes, but that s*** never changes, so I just want to keep doing that.

You were serving in the Air Force before finding success in music. Did that interest in music come after the Air Force?

Oh no. Way before. It was just halted by [serving in the Air Force]. But no, [music came] way before. I've been loving music since I was real young.

Did you stop making music or creating music while you were serving?

No, I just couldn't do it because I had a Dad that had a tough schedule, so there was no way for me to really pursue a career, so that's why I say "halted." I feel like if I wasn't in, I would have been pursuing that anyway, but it is what it is.

I want to talk about your album, last album, Veteran. You threw a lot into it. Was there something specific you wanted to achieve with it?

I just wanted to level myself up from whatever I did before. I always try to live outside of my comfort zone, and I was just trying to step outside again with that. It's always what I do. That was really the main point. There wasn't really any other point. Any other point is just made up by other people. There is nothing. The art is just out there. I don't tell people what to think about it.

Is there a song that you're most proud of at the moment?

My "Call Me Maybe" cover. It's a proud moment. People keep yelling it at me on stage and I'm just like, "y'all really want to hear that? That song is so depressing."

What's depressing about it?

Just listen to it. Just listen to my cover of "Call Me Maybe," and you'll see. You'll be like, "why would anyone want to hear this Live?" It's funny.

You had a completely different life before making music for a living. How is it being able to work on music? Getting that second chance?

Feels f***ing great. It's nice to be able to make money from something that you actually like doing. I feel really lucky. I don't really have any other reviews about it. It's just really good. One consistent good thing I can say about the music industry is that at least I can make music freely now, and I don't have to do it when I'm off of a nine to five shift or something.

I want to touch on something that I spoke with Rico Nasty about. Pitchfork wrote a piece about her reclaiming the angry black woman stereotype with her music. I wanted to ask you about this more generally, because I feel like you let a lot of energy out. Do you have any thoughts on how music works as a vehicle to destroy stereotypes?

Music and media are the vehicle because, unfortunately, this is just true, pretty much all people's opinions are formed about everything from media, movies, music. I feel that's a great responsibility. But I don't feel like anyone's obligated to do anything about it. No one has to acknowledge it and do anything. I do because I just recognize the power it has, you know? We can pretend like music and movies and shit don't really matter because it's all fiction, but unfortunately, this is the s*** that makes people form their opinions. Yeah. I think it's not only is it a vehicle, but it's actually one of the strongest vehicles low key.

You've lived in a whole bunch of different parts of the country. You grew up in the South. You've lived in Baltimore, and now you're in LA. Is there any city that has influenced you the most?

Baltimore. Baltimore has the hardest work ethic out of all cities. It makes you want to work harder.

Do you feel like you represent Baltimore in some sort of way?

I think I represent Baltimore in a certain way. I think I represent a subsection of Baltimore. But for me, I'm not like I wasn't born and raised in Baltimore. I came there later. I get, I don't think I could ever truly represent somewhere where I didn't go to high school and s*** like that. But I think for some people, they see me as a symbol for Baltimore, and I'll carry that torch if I have to. But I think that mantle deserves to be [applied] if I get more popular or whatever. It'll bring more eyes to Baltimore, and then somebody from there can rise up. Then they can be like the real mantle. Me, I see myself as a stepping stone for just the stuff I witnessed in Baltimore, all the great artists that don't get any shot.

Let's talk about "The Who," your latest single. What was the inspiration behind that?

I made that song so long ago. I was trying to make a Pop song, and I was like, "I'm going to make a Pop song 'cause I feel like it," and that was really the inspiration for it. Then I got my homegirl Eyas to sing on the hook. Beautiful voice, great, formidable producer, too. She's great.

It wasn't really much thought into it, you know. It was just like something I just kind of did. That's why I was like, when I put it out, I let people know. Look, this is something that was on Veteran, and I took it off. I made this years ago. This is not new music. It's just something I wanted y'all to hear 'cause, I don't know.

You're teasing your new album a lot of social media, and on stage. What can we expect on this next one?

What album? What you mean? Ain't no album yo. Look.

Project?

There's nothing going on here but disappointment, okay? That's what's coming next. I don't know what that's going to sound like specifically, but when the disappointment comes, it comes. That s*** may sound like Oreo cookies or something. You never know what might happen. Just stay on your toes, man. There's no album. I don't- what? What? What?

You've got this thing with your fans where you keep talking about how this disappointment is going to come. What is behind all this?

It's just really whack shit. You know, when you get your hopes up for something, and it doesn't fall through? I just want to recreate that feeling.

People are excited about the disappointment coming up.

Yeah. Think about that. It's 2019, and there's a certain amount of people who are excited for me to literally let them down. That's beautiful.

Any collabs you want to do in the future?

Yeah. Björk for sure. Definitely, I would like to do like something with Tommy Genesis, too. There's a lot of people actually. I don't know, we'll see. Who else? George Bush. See what he's doing. Get that George Bush feature. You know he'd be painting. He probably be rapping on the side, too.

After Pitchfork Fest, what's next for you?

I'm going to go home and just, you know, put the finishing touches on this whack ass disappointing s***, and that's it. That's all I got going on.

Do you know when we can expect a disappointment to come out?

I have no clue. I don't even know what you're talking about.