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Nicholas Britell

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Nicholas Britell On Scoring 'Succession' And 'The King' & Learning From Steve McQueen

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The Emmy-winning composer talks to the Recording Academy about moving between film and television, working with auteurs like Adam McKay and Barry Jenkins and more
GRAMMYs
Sep 18, 2019 - 10:58 am

It's safe to say that Nicholas Britell is living the dream—his dream, at least. "Ever since I was five years old, I loved movies and I loved music," the 38-year-old film and TV composer tells the Recording Academy over the phone. "As a composer, the dream is that you can write things and that people can feel the things that you're feeling."

That's exactly what Britell’s work does: It stirs up feelings, whether it’s the bittersweet strings that adorn director Barry Jenkins' 2018 tragic romance If Beale Street Could Talk, or the cascading pianos that usher viewers into the rareified air of the Roy family, the dysfunctional super-wealthy clan at the hardened heart of HBO's Succession. Britell's ear and knack for translating emotion have helped him build quite an impressive IMDb page over the past few years. He's collaborated with some of the most respected filmmakers active today—Jenkins, Steve McQueen, Adam McKay—which means his songs have appeared in two of this decade’s Best Picture winners (McQueen's 12 Years A Slave and Jenkins' Moonlight). Britell has earned some awards attention of his own, as well; he's been nominated for two Oscars for Best Original Score (for Moonlight and Beale Street, respectively) and, more recently, took home a Creative Arts Emmy for Outstanding Original Main Title Theme Music (for Succession, naturally). Odds are, if you have any friends who spend too much time on Film Twitter, they're fans of his.

The Recording Academy chatted with Britell about working alongside a series of auteurs, his score for the second season of Succession (which is presently dominating the TV discourse online), and his compositions for the upcoming Henry V-centric film The King, set to hit theaters on Oct. 11 before debuting on Netflix on Nov. 1. This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity. 

To start at the beginning of your recent run: What was it like being a young composer, working on a film as heavy and sobering as 12 Years A Slave and working with a master like Steve McQueen? 

Steve is incredible. It was truly inspiring and really a life-changing experience for me, to work closely with an artist like Steve, and to learn from him and just to see the way that he approaches things, his decision-making process, the way that he thinks about artistic choices. I often think back on that experience and I’ve stayed in close touch with Steve, and he’s been a very dear friend as well, since then. 

On IMDb, it says "Additional music" for your credit on 12 Years A Slave. Can you clarify: What was your level of involvement? You didn't handle all of the scoring, but you did some of it? 

Actually, I wasn't involved in the score of 12 Years A Slave. I wrote and researched and arranged all of the music that appears on-camera in the film. 

All of the diegetic music.

Exactly, all of the diegetic music. Everything from working with Chiwetel [Ejiofor] and coordinating, researching the type of fiddle tunes that an African-American violinst in 1841 in New York state might have played. Everything from that to exploring the field songs and dances in the South and collaborating with Steve on figuring out the best way to execute those performances. It was actually a huge research endeavor to figure out what's possible to be known about those types of performances and music, and also what are the limits of our knowledge on that. 

You've also collaborated with Barry Jenkins, who has such a distinct visual style, obviously, and favors a lot of close-ups of his characters, a lot of eye contact. What's it like composing for sequences and shots that are so direct, where the audience and the performer are both so vulnerable? 

One of the things about Barry's filmmaking style is that he creates a very full, rich aesthetic experience for the films that he makes. What you’re talking about, that sort of directness, is really emblematic of the way that he approaches all of the departments of the films: the colors, the cinematography, the music, the sound. There is a directness and a boldness with his choices, but it’s all in service of the feeling. A lot of what we’re trying to do, from my perspective, it’s about finding musical landscapes that can convey those feelings and the fullness of those feelings. 

And every film is different. There's no right score for something, there's just the score that you craft in collaboration with the director, at that moment in time. There are lots of possible scores, but I think one of the beautiful things about scoring is that it's so dependent on the process, and how it comes together, and that's what makes it unique to that film. Above all, it’s about finding a sound that feels like—for you and for the director—that it’s really woven into the fabric of the movie somehow. Some things just feel connected, in a way, and some don't. We ourselves don't really know, and the process is us experimenting together. 

You've also worked on two films with Adam McKay, who's an executive produer on Succession. Can you talk about how you got invovled with the show specifically? 

Well, actually, Succession was a result of those two films. I first worked with Adam on The Big Short, and it was after we finished The Big Short that we talked about Succession, and he told me about the premise and the ideas behind the show and asked if I wanted to be a part of the pilot, and of course I said yes. It was quite a few years ago, actually. My mental calendar is sort of a blur—but we did the pilot and I worked on that and then it was after the pilot, after some time, we then did the rest of the series and put it all together. 

I started talking to Adam about it before they shot the pilot and was able to go to set and be there for when they were shooting the pilot, which, it’s always a great experience because you get to see things up close. So, it directly came out of that experience of first working with Adam on The Big Short. I finished scoring Succession, the first season, while we were making Vice, actually, so I was doing those in parallel to some extent. 

The goal for me musically was that it had both this kind of gravitas to the seriousness of that world, which is—it’s a real issue in the world, that there are these increasing concentrations of wealth and power amongst fewer and fewer people. There's a darkness there, but there’s also this absurdity and I think that finding a tone that could balance both of those things was really the key. And it was very interesting, actually, working on Vice at the same time, because I feel working with Adam has been so crucial for me as a learning experience, too, and thinking about that interplay between drama and comedy.

How has the Succession score changed or developed from season one to season two? 

Season one really laid the groundwork for the thematic ideas and for the tone. Season two, I think it was really important for me that as the story evolved, I definitely wanted the music to continue its own evolution. I remember talking to Jesse [Armstrong, creator and showrunner of Succession] about this idea of, "Imagine a symphony that is Succession, what's the second movement sound like? What do we do?"

Also, you never want to overstay your welcome with certain musical ideas. There's definitely a sort of dark, maniacal streak to some of the music, and I want to make sure that when we’re using certain ideas, that we know exactly where and they have a power still. There’s certain new elements for Kendall, there are certain elements that are Shiv-focused. It’s the same Succession universe, but hopefully a bit more. 

How does working on a TV show compare to working on a feature-length film? 

The difference between film and TV is pretty large, actually. There's just so much more real estate in TV. Certainly, there's the micro-level approach, which is thinking episode to episode. But I really try to think about it as one entire piece, in a way. So, you're always thinking about, "Where do certain ideas get seeded, where do certain ideas come back? How does what we hear in episode one impact what we hear in episode 10?" It's actually quite challenging to think about that. 

That's something that I really love about film music, is thinking about the architecture of the ideas, like, where you start one idea and then how does it evolve, how does it change, where does it come back? And also, importantly, where do you not have music? That’s always really important, too. Each film has its own musical logic, and you’re trying to have the film tell you where it needs music and where it doesn't want music. 

You just won a Creative Arts Emmy for the Succession theme. There's always so much talk about awards campaigning, mostly about the Oscars. What does campaigning look like for a film composer? And how does it differ between the Oscars and the Emmys? 

I’m new to the TV world a bit. The film awards season and that process is very linked with the release of those films, so I view it very much as you're participating in helping bringing the film into the world. I remember last year, with Beale Street for example, it wasn’t even so much necessarily campaigning as it was, we would do a lot of Q&As at movie theaters, and really be there sharing what the story of the film is. 

With TV, actually, I haven’t done quite as much, I guess. In the sense that that kind of natural, going to movie theaters and doing Q&As and stuff, there really isn't as much of that. And I think that’s partly also just the nature of the medium. Which, I would actually add to that and say that I've been really awed by the level of audience that is possible from television. I love movies, and I love the movie theater experience, but I also think it is a wonderful thing that television is actually able to get out to more people, and more people, on a weekly basis, can participate in the stuff that you’re making. That’s been something of a new experience that I’ve had with working on a TV show. 

You worked on a film that's coming out in October, The King. Did you have to get into a dramatically different headspace as a composer, working on something that’s set that far back in the past? 

I definitely did not change my process. When I approach a new project, I try to have a blank slate in a way, where you’re trying to be open to feeling what that film or that series need in the way of music, and seeing what that is. Obviously, you don’t figure that out without talking to the director, and having that conversation: What are they feeling and what are they looking for? 

I remember with The King, the first thought that I had when I saw a rough cut of the movie was, "What would it be like if I imagined that the 1400s was actually like the 2500s?" You say to yourself, "What is that sort of sense of distance and time mean?" So I tried to create sounds early on that felt like they could be linked with the world that we were witnessing, but that also felt like they weren’t necessarily "period." I was very specifically not trying to say, "All of these instruments are from 1413."

So, the sound that I settled on, working with David [Michôd, director of The King], was this sound where it's a mixture of these bass clarinets that I pitched through this sort of tape filter that created a very strange texture. And then there’s the sound of a boys' choir, which emerges over the course of the film, and there's definitely some symbolism there, emotionally and musically, with the fact that this is a young man who is becoming king. And there were a lot of musical experiments that we did, too, with morphing some brass and morphing these sort of metallic sounds. I think it's about creating something that makes you lean into this world, to want to explore it—but at the same time, you need something that feels like it connects with you.        

I've seen a lot of people tweeting about your music, saying things like, "Just working all day to the Beale Street soundtrack." I imagine that if you're a film composer, it'd be rewarding to put your music out, but there would maybe be this fear that your work would be entombed with the movie it's for, just inseprarable from it. But it seems like people are more than happy to associate your compositions with the films, but also to break them out and use them in their own lives. 

Well, thank you. I definitely feel like when I’m writing, it's very important that the music for film can exist both inside and outside the project. I think that's maybe a little bit of an aesthetic criteria for me, of whether something works. For any piece that I’m writing for a movie, the music has to be able to exist on its own, hopefully, as an idea. So, I do think about its ability to exist outside of the project, but certainly, the number one goal is that it's right for the project. That's its only reason for being there. 

Music Is Coming: Composer Ramin Djawadi Looks Back On Eight Epic Seasons Of 'Game Of Thrones'

Leiomy Maldonado on the set of HBO Max's "Legendary"

Leiomy Maldonado on the set of HBO Max's "Legendary"

Photo: Barbara Nitke/HBO Max

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Leiomy Maldonado On How Her HBO Max Show "Legendary" Is Giving The Masses A "Real Ballroom Experience"

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As a judge on the hit voguing competition TV series, the hard-working trans dancer, model and activist is once again mainstreaming modern-day ball culture and shining a light on the fierce art of voguing
Susan L. Hornik
GRAMMYs
Jul 11, 2020 - 2:04 pm

Leiomy Maldonado eats, sleeps and drinks voguing, a highly stylized type of dance originating in New York City's LGBTQ+ Black and Latinx underground ballroom scene between the '60s and '80s.

Known as the "Wonder Woman Of Vogue," the hard-working trans dancer, model and activist is known for her work in mainstreaming voguing and ballroom culture. In addition to being the first openly trans contestant on MTV's "America's Best Dance Crew," she choreographs the ball scenes on FX's Emmy-winning drama, "POSE." She's also worked with celebrities like Beyoncé, Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Janet Jackson, Willow Smith and Icona Pop.  

With her latest project, serving as one of the judges on HBO Max's hit voguing competition TV series, "Legendary," Maldonado is once again pushing modern-day ball culture to the masses. 

During each episode of "Legendary," individual teams, known as "houses," compete in themed "balls," which feature a variety of creative categories like fashion and dance challenges, including voguing, posing and walking—all while wearing incredible costumes and outfits. As the show progresses, houses are eliminated until one team is left "slaying." The winning house achieves "Legendary" status and takes home a $100,000 grand prize.

"The world got to see ballroom culture via 'POSE,' and the struggles of the community," Maldonado tells GRAMMY.com. "It opened doors for a show like 'Legendary,' where now you get to see the real deal. It's raw and authentic, not scripted, not made up: a real ballroom experience."

"Legendary," which is hosted by "King Of Vogue" and actor/MC Dashaun Wesley, sees Maldonado offering the houses sage advice on what it takes to win ballroom competitions each week. Celebrity judges Law Roach, who has styled stars like Zendaya, Ariana Grande and Celine Dion; actress/host Jameela Jamil; and breakthrough rapper Megan Thee Stallion round out the judges cast.

Following the breakout success of "Legendary," which just wrapped its debut season Thursday (July 9), HBO Max has renewed the series for a second season, which will film in Los Angeles and will feature all the original judges and host. (Online, the show has taken a second life: The “Legendary" TikTok dance challenge has received over 2.6 billion views, surpassing Megan Thee Stallion's own viral challenge for her track "Savage," which has over 30 million videos.)

GRAMMY.com spoke with Maldonado about music's important role in voguing and ball culture, the dire situation trans women are facing today and the 30th anniversaries of the iconic ball culture documentary, Paris Is Burning, and Madonna's epic song, "Vogue."

What drew you to voguing and the underground ballroom scene?

I fell in love with voguing back in 2003. This was a way for me to find myself through dancing; I could express all this emotion and frustration I was going through as a young teen transitioning. When I became part of the ballroom scene, that's when I really started educating myself on the importance of the culture [and] why it plays such a big role for our community. I just knew this was the place for me.

This year marks the 30th anniversary of Paris Is Burning, the definitive documentary on underground LGBTQ+ ballroom culture. How has the film impacted you?

Paris Is Burning was one of the most important films that showcased our culture to the world. It touched on the immense struggles the trans women were dealing with. Listening to them speak was incredible. That movie really inspired me to do something with my talent and bring ballroom to the forefront.

2020 is also the 30th anniversary of Madonna's song, "Vogue," which brought voguing to mainstream culture. 

In a good way, it was amazing for voguing to have been given a spotlight. That song put voguing on the map; we would have never had that chance otherwise. It was, of course, groundbreaking; it paved the way for voguing to be seen and accepted. 

Still, I feel like it should have been more than just one situation. A lot of times, people just use something for the moment, instead of understanding the bigger picture of it. Honestly, when that song came out, it wasn't about the voguing or the community. As opposed to now, when you are seeing voguing [and] ballroom, it's about the community. I feel like that is a huge difference. It's a different type of celebration.

Leiomy Maldonado on the set of HBO Max's "Legendary"

Leiomy Maldonado on the set of HBO Max's "Legendary" | Courtesy Photo: HBO Max

"Legendary" stands upon the shoulders of "POSE."

Yes, "POSE" highlights voguing culture, showcasing moments that happened in real ballroom history. While it is a scripted show, some of the things that have happened on "POSE" have happened in ballroom. The fact that these stories are being told [is] so important. 

The world got to see ballroom culture via "POSE," and the struggles of the community. It opened doors for a show like "Legendary," where now you get to see the real deal. It's raw and authentic, not scripted, not made up: a real ballroom experience.

How has music played a role in voguing?

Music has been very important to ballroom and voguing. For every category [competition], there is a style of music that gets played, so the people can be [and] feel in that theme or character. With ballroom, it changes so much; there is a lot of variety, artistry [and] talent. Things are going to change; you are not just going to be stuck with one DJ, with one commentator on the mic. You are going to get different flavors and styles. That is so beautiful. Without music, the world would kinda suck! Music makes the world go round! Now you get to see how ballroom culture inspires the world.

As one of the show's celebrity judges, what does Megan Thee Stallion bring to the table? 

Megan brings a lot of love and inspiration. She wants to make sure each team is comfortable in their skin doing what they are doing and are engaging with the audience. As a performer, she understands being onstage and what it takes to command that attention, showing that you are confident.

Read: How Black Trans Artists Are Fighting To Achieve Racial Justice & Amplify Queer Voices

While "Legendary" celebrates trans culture, we are living in a world where countless trans women of color have been killed. What's it going to take to change this? 

People forget that trans folks are human. I truly don't understand what the struggle is. As humans, we have feelings, we have compassion. But when it comes to trans women of color being killed, you don't really see much of that.

A lot of the frustration nowadays comes from the fact that our own people of color are not fighting for us. That's hurtful and heartbreaking, because when men and women of color are being taken from us, we are out there fighting on the frontlines with them because we are all fighting together as people of color. 

But when it comes to trans people being killed, it's like, "Oh no, their lives don't matter." What's important is for allies, people in the community, etc., to be visible, loud and protecting us to the utmost, not only when it's your friend. 

A few weeks ago, I put up a fake obituary on my Instagram just to alarm people, like, "Hey, this could be me." For many of the responses, it was an awakening call for them, like, "Wow, I never thought about that." People need to understand that this shouldn't only be important if it happens to someone close to you. We are all one community, and are all in this together. 

There is a lot of solidarity between the LGBTQ+ community and Black Lives Matter movement. Let's talk about their intersectionality.

The Black Lives Matters movement was started by two women of color, and they are part of the (LGBTQ+) community. That alone is mind-boggling to me. We need to be vocal about the protection that we deserve and are in need of.

That needs to trickle down within the community as well. A lot of times, we deal with transphobia, misunderstanding, miscommunication from people who are gay, lesbian and bisexual. That to me is equally mind-boggling. We need to put the work in and understand how important it is for us to be together.

How do you see the music of ballroom evolving?

I would love to see the hip-hop community be more accepting of ballroom, even to have collaboration. I feel like a lot of these barriers that are being held onto should be broken down. We need to start appreciating people for their talent and what they bring to the table. Forget about gender and labels. 

Want To Support Protesters And Black Lives Matter Groups? Here's How

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Terence Blanchard

Terence Blanchard

Photo: Henry Adebonojo

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Terence Blanchard On The Music Behind 'Da 5 Bloods,' Working With Spike Lee And The Lasting Impact Of Marvin Gaye

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The six-time GRAMMY-winning composer and trumpeter discusses how Marvin Gaye's iconic 1971 album, 'What's Going On,' shaped the film and his own life
Susan L. Hornik
GRAMMYs
Jun 27, 2020 - 2:04 pm

It's no wonder film director/writer Spike Lee and six-time GRAMMY-winning composer/trumpeter Terence Blanchard are lifelong collaborators—their level of mastery together makes for exquisite storytelling.  

Blanchard first worked with the director in the late '80s when he performed on the soundtrack for Lee's 1989 breakthrough film, Do The Right Thing. The two have since worked together on more than 15 films including Jungle Fever (1991), Malcolm X (1992) and Summer of Sam (1999). Lee's 2018 film, BlacKkKlansman, which earned him an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay, garnered Blanchard his first Oscar nomination for Best Original Score. 

Blanchard now returns to the scoring seat on Lee's newly released Netflix film Da 5 Bloods, yet another gut-wrenching drama from the socially conscious filmmaker.

The epic war drama tells the story of four African-American Vietnam War veterans who return to the country in search of the remains of their fallen Squad Leader and the buried treasure they left behind decades ago. 

The film's score, for which Blanchard utilized a 90-piece orchestra, features several songs from Marvin Gaye's iconic 1971 album What's Going On, which largely provides the movie's musical and thematic backbone.

"His music shapes the film in an immense way," Blanchard tells GRAMMY.com in a recent interview. "The lyrics are very powerful. I remember when Spike told me he was going to use it, it automatically just sent me down a direction, musically, where I wanted the score to have a grand feel to it. I wanted it to have more of a universal theme. I knew that Gaye's music was going to cover a certain aspect of the emotion of dealing with social injustice in this country."

GRAMMY.com spoke with Terence Blanchard about the musical vision behind Da 5 Bloods and how Marvin Gaye's quintessential album shaped the film and his own life.

With the recent Black Lives Matter protests, Da 5 Bloods seems even more timely. 

Sadly, I kinda felt the film was timely even without those events because we are still dealing with those same issues. With the [tragedies] of George Floyd, Rayshard Brooks and Breonna Taylor, it's just amplified what we have been talking about for decades.  

Spike has been known to constantly produce films that not only entertain, but make you reflect on the state of our social consciousness right now. I feel blessed that the movie is sparking debate, just like BlacKkKlansman did. But now, we have to go beyond debate and create legislation, change hearts and minds and really look for substantive change.

The opening montage of Da 5 Bloods, which illustrated the racially charged anguish of the Vietnam era in the 1960s, is heartbreaking to watch. 

It speaks to the whole nature of … people of color [having] been screaming about injustice for decades. If people were really listening in places of power, then that portion of the movie would be irrelevant, you know? But the sad truth of it is, we haven't moved the needle as much as we'd like to think that we have. The mere fact that we have a president who is willing to have a rally on Juneteenth in Tulsa, [Okla.], a place where Black Wall Street was dismantled—that says a lot about racism in this country and how people are still trying to justify those actions. So when I see a montage like that, it's heart-wrenching. 

But I know there are so many other stories to be told from our culture … Finally, it feels like people are starting to wake up to what is really going on and not constantly [falling] back into a position of defending. I think Spike has always been great at pushing that envelope, trying to make people reflect on what's been happening.

Speaking of "what's going on," let's talk about how Marvin Gaye's music served as the backbone of this film.

His music shapes the film in an immense way. The lyrics are very powerful. I remember when Spike told me he was going to use it, it automatically just sent me down a direction, musically, where I wanted the score to have a grand feel to it. I wanted it to have more of a universal theme. I knew that Gaye's music was going to cover a certain aspect of the emotion of dealing with social injustice in this country.

I wanted the score to partner with that in such a way to broaden the experience to hopefully draw more people to the film. One of the things we all know is that complacency is the enemy of change. We can't sit on the sidelines anymore. We have to become active and really do our part to effect change.

Read: Fight The Power: 11 Powerful Protest Songs Advocating For Racial Justice

What was Gaye's influence on your own life?

"What's Going On"—I remember when I first heard that, it was an impactful thing. As a kid, obviously we didn't have social media back then. That song made me feel like I wasn't by myself, that I wasn't crazy [for] feeling the things that I was feeling. 

Marvin's music, along with James Brown's "Say It Loud – I'm Black and I'm Proud," were things that started to shape my thinking in terms of being proud of who I am, what I could accomplish in my life and hopefully what I could give back to the world.

If you chronicle what has happened in the music industry, Gaye was a heterosexual male who was socially conscious—a strong male figure in the '70s who was a R&B singer. He broke through to other areas of the music world; back then, we used to call it "crossover." 

It's hard to find singers that have crossed over like that today. He wasn't afraid to talk about certain things or deal with issues. When you look at Sam Cooke, who was a balladeer, he sang a lot of beautiful songs. It wasn't until he sang “A Change Is Gonna Come" did people really start to understand that he was socially conscious.

With Marvin Gaye, we knew that; we got a sense of that. It felt he was out there speaking for us and to us at the same time.

Spike Lee (L) and Terence Blanchard (R) at a scoring session for 'Da 5 Bloods'

Spike Lee (L) and Terence Blanchard (R) at a scoring session for Da 5 Bloods | Photo: Matt Sayles | © 2020 Netlfix Inc.  All rights Reserved.

Working with Spike for the past 30 years, what has he taught you?

He's taught me a lot about how to follow your heart. One of the things I have always loved about Spike is that he is a film historian. He loves film and knows it backwards and forwards. He doesn't allow that knowledge of history to totally shape what it is that he does. He still has his own vision about what's possible and what could be done. 

That is something that has always inspired me because I am the same way, being a jazz musician. You want to know your history, in terms of the music, but you don't want to be bound by it. You still want to use it as a springboard to move further and further into the future.

How do you use music to speak for you?

It's an interesting thing. I know it speaks for me, but I think a lot of it is me healing myself. With the types of films that Spike has done and my relationship with him, we have done topics that have been dear to my heart as well. In the process of dealing with that, you are trying to find some resolution. Hopefully, you are creating something that most people can relate to. 

I tend to think there are more people going through exactly what I am going through. Witnessing the depth of George Floyd on national television breaks my heart, angers me and enrages me in such a way that I know there are a lot of other Americans out there that are going through the same thing. Being an artist, you cannot turn away from those feelings, those issues, that passion. You have to utilize that and allow it to help create the music. Not the intellect; that's how we study and know how to make things work. It's that combination of passion and brains that allow you to come up with the ideas for these projects.

Read: The Impressions' "People Get Ready" At 55: How Curtis Mayfield Created A Musical Balm For Black America

What do you love more, performing your jazz music or composing?

I love performing, there's no doubt! But right now, due to the [coronavirus] pandemic, I love composing! I am a little nervous about being out in public; I have had friends and mentors succumb to COVID-19. It's just all too much at one time. It made me understand how real this issue is and how seriously we have to take it. It's unfortunate that the virus has been used for political gain. It potentially has put lives in danger. 

Terence Blanchard at a scoring session for 'Da 5 Bloods'

Terence Blanchard at a scoring session for Da 5 Bloods | Photo: Matt Sayles | © 2020 Netlfix Inc.  All rights Reserved.

It seems like you have a love for and commitment to socially conscious projects. 

One of the things that has always drawn me to certain artists in the jazz world is their ability to chronicle what has been going on in their environment. Look at John Coltrane's [civil rights elegy] "Alabama" for the four little girls—[Editor's Note: In 1963, Ku Klux Klan members killed four young Black girls in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Ala.]—and Max Roach's Freedom Now Suite ... I have always tried to be an artist that is always socially conscious. This is something that is a part of who I am. I feel like if I have a small, little platform, I should use it to try to raise people's consciousness.  

In an interview with Variety, you talked about the racism you had encountered as a Black composer. Do you see this changing?

Of course it's changing. Like anything else, people always say the wheels of change grind slowly … We need more women and people of color to have opportunities to play. We all know they are out there. It's not a vacuum of talent; there's talent all over the place. Opportunities need to happen for a lot of folks.  

What's next on your bucket list?

You know, it's that striving to write the perfect melody and the perfect piece of music, whatever that is. That's always been my passion: trying to strike the perfect tone between the intellect and the heart that will best represent any given moment of time in honor of our environmental experience—something that speaks truth to power.

You also scored the music for HBO's new crime noir TV series, "Perry Mason." What was your vision for that project?

My vision was to create something fresh that would be inviting for new viewers, but still harken to the period. Creating music for that genre is to allow the story to inform you. In any film, there will be gaps in the storytelling process, which is the reason why you have a score. The score can help push those emotional moments that help tell the story.

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Dua Saleh

Dua Saleh

Photo: Grant Spanier

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Dua Saleh & Psymun Talk Minneapolis Community Building, 'ROSETTA' & Music For Social Change

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The Sudan-born, Twin Cities-based artist released their second EP, 'ROSETTA,' executive produced by Psymun, on June 12
Ana Monroy Yglesias
GRAMMYs
Jun 25, 2020 - 10:58 am

Meet Dua Saleh. They are a non-binary artist born in Sudan and based in Minneapolis, creating haunting alt-pop from another dimension. Their second EP, ROSETTA, whose name was inspired by rock and roll pioneer Sister Rosetta Tharpe, just came out on June 12 on indie label Against Giants. On the expansive six-track project Dua explores facets of their identity, using the power of their vocals with an effortless fluidity, enhanced by beats from producer Psymun.

In response to the killing of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police, Saleh released "body cast" on May 31, a powerful song condemning police brutality, created with Psymun in 2019, originally set for a future project. They donated 100% of proceeds to Women for Political Change, a local nonprofit actively investing "in the leadership and political power of young women and trans and non-binary folks." 

We recently caught up with Saleh and Psymun (born Simon Christensen), calling in from Minneapolis over Zoom to learn more about ROSETTA, the current situation in Minneapolis, supporting Black and Queer artists, and more.

Psymun

Psymun | Photo: Zoe Pizarro​

I want to start by checking in and see how you're feeling right now, and how you've been coping with these difficult times.

Saleh: I'm feeling pretty anxious. Anxiety and fear have been the streamline that's been running through my system. But I've also been feeling activated and feeling ready to put in as many resources and as much love and care into my community as possible, because everybody's dealing with a lot, both from the uprising and from the COVID-19 shut down and financial ruin. And just a lot of personal things that are happening to people within the Black trans community, and just across all communities that I've been attached to personally.

Christensen: I've been also pretty anxious, but overall fine. I haven't really been making music much; it's just hard to focus, I guess. Have you been feeling that, Dua?

Saleh: Yeah. I feel like I've also been sick for a long time and, even now, I'm anxious about interviews that I'm doing. So I haven't been able to even focus on music because my voice is not capable of even talking for long periods of time. I don't know if that's because that anxiety is also adding to that, but I think that's just been on my mind.

I felt like I was having a lot of the same symptoms that were COVID-related for a lot of people. A lot of chest pains, I couldn't breathe during times. I had to intake a lot of vitamin C, otherwise, I would literally be gasping for air and my heart would be palpitating immensely. Also, my voice hurt for a long time. I couldn't speak for like two weeks, legitimately.

Christensen: Did you get tested?

Saleh: Yeah, I tested negative, but I didn't get my antibodies tested, which I should check that out.

Christensen: I think the antibody test is expensive. I got tested [for COVID-19] and it came back negative. I'm getting tested again today because it's free, just to make sure.

Coping For The Best: How To Manage Mental Health During Social Unrest & A Global Pandemic

I want to get your pulse on how things are feeling right now in Minnesota. How would you describe the current situation we're in here in the U.S., through the lens of the activism and uprising in Minneapolis?

Christensen: Well, the feeling of it, it's a lot. It's really beautiful for a lot of reasons, but it's also really, really tense for a lot of reasons. Currently, things haven't stopped. There's still plenty of protesting, but from what I've noticed, rioting and stuff has slowed down. I think people can literally only handle so much. And also I think it came to a point where a lot of people [and] protesters were afraid for their lives.

It's not like things have stopped and I don't think they're going to. I hope not. But there is a weird part that feels like things have almost gone back to normal in the city. I think the media doesn't cover a lot of what's still going on, so it's hard. It does feel like things are back to normal in a way, but they're not actually.

Saleh: I feel like for me, I've been seeing a lot of community care infrastructure being put in place by community members, like mutual aid efforts and sanctuaries. People have been signing up to be security and medics at the sanctuaries and offering food and medical supplies for people, tents for displacement and homelessness. And people being there for GoFundMe efforts for people who have been harmed or their businesses and their homes have been completely destroyed by non-local agitators, as well as some local agitators.

I've just been seeing a lot of community efforts of love and care. And I feel like that energy is what makes people feel like things are going back to normal, because it's not really about the urgency of immediate fear of death and pain because there aren't weapons with live ammunition being pointed in the faces of people, but they are still afraid of being harmed by police officers.

One of the sanctuaries that was set in place by community members had to move a few times because police officers were called and they literally displaced all these people. So in my mind, I feel like the urgency is still there, just the narrative around it has shifted and people aren't as interested or intrigued by talking about sanctuaries or mutual aid because it's not as tantalizing as, I guess in a pornographic way, as protests and as tear gas grenades and other things that are thrown at people. It's more about institutional violence and ways to help people who are in urgent need in that way.

It's so inspiring to see the outpouring of support for different orgs, like the Minnesota Freedom Fund that got so many donations they asked people to choose other local institutions to help. It just shows how, like you said, people have to bring the attention in all the right places, because I think many people want to help and offer what they can.

Saleh: Definitely. And there are a lot of different organizations and arts-based orgs that are doing healing programming for people to try to figure things out that way and also need immediate funding. Like Mercado Colegio, who are working with Latinx community members, or Free Black Dirt is helping with healing efforts and food redistribution, and also Women for Political Change, which me and Psymun are donating all of our proceeds from "body cast" to directly. They've been doing a lot of immediate on-the-ground work with medics, medical aid and security. As well as with redistributing funds to Black youth, specifically Black women and Black trans and non-binary people who are in immediate need, especially after all the events that occurred with the uprising and with COVID-19. People are very vulnerable and need support, so organizations like those are very helpful.

I would love to talk a bit more about "body cast." At what point did you feel called to release the song early?

Saleh: Psymun, do you remember—I feel like I've just been talking out my ass for most of these interviews, because I don't really remember how the songwriting process started. I know I had some random lyrics written down in my Notes app and I think you sent me some chords or something and the title of it was called body cast, and that spiraled me into something. Or were we in the studio?

Christensen: I was in L.A. when I sent it to you. It was when I sent you that grip of ideas and that one actually wasn't just chords, that was like one of the two that I sent with drums. It was called body cast, I just named it something random.

One thing I really like about working with Dua is, a lot of the time, whenever I send them anything, it's just named something random and they typically write a song based off of what I titled it. Which is really funny, because most people don't do that.

Saleh: I don't know. I get lazy with titles. So I'm like, yes. Also, it's really good inspiration. I appreciate your titles. Actually, "windhymn" which is on the EP, was called yah originally. I miss that name, to be honest.

Christensen: [Laughs.] Also, "bankrupt" was called bankrupt when I sent it to you and then same with "cat scratch." [For "body cast"] I remember you sent me two videos; you specifically wanted a sample of Black women telling off cops. You sent me, the one we sampled, was from Angela Whitehead. You also sent the Sandra Bland one, which I think, I don't know if it was just me, so I'm not trying to speak for you, but I remember feeling like, man, this is really sad.

Saleh: Yeah. Triggering, probably. I'm glad that you chose the other one. I think the first one I sent was the Angela Whitehead one, because I think in myself, I was like maybe the Sandra Bland one is intense. I've been very cognizant of the way that auto-played videos of Black people in distress have been triggering Black people who follow me on social media. So I haven't re-posted any of those videos.

I think back then, I wasn't thinking about that. It was a year ago. And I didn't even think that we were going to release the song now, I thought it was going to be in a future project. But I definitely now, upon reflection, appreciate the fact that the Angela Whitehead video was chosen, because that video is such an energizing and activating video because people see it as reasserting their right to be aggressive and loud and to live in the comfort of her home without fear of invasion.

Read: Rapper Niko Brim And Activist Opal Lee On The Importance Of Juneteenth: "It Represents Freedom"

And once you released "body cast," what did it feel like to share that message, standing up to police brutality, at this time? It is really powerful and I saw it get covered in quite a few places.

Saleh: I feel like people resonated with it. I've been getting a lot of DMs and messages and just a lot of articles being published about it from GRAMMYs, Hypebeast, Rolling Stone, other publications that I was not expecting and didn't solicit. They just either posted on their own or they reached out to us directly.

It's been invigorating specifically because we've been trying to build narrative about giving back to community through the song. Seeing Minnesota Women for Political Change being tagged on different articles and seeing people being linked to their work and having people accredit them for the very essential movement-building that they've been doing, that has been very fulfilling for me personally.

And in what other ways have you been advocating for justice and engaging with everything right now?

Saleh: Well, I've been helping with a Twitter page that's specific to Minneapolis, just re-posting different things that I've been talking about. So, mutual aid efforts, GoFundMes for people who have been displaced, people's medical transition needs, people's immediate donation needs at sites and sanctuaries. And that's been the way that I've been trying to help navigate this, especially because I've been careful about organizing spaces, considering my personal triggers. With previously being in organizing, I have some concerns about safety for myself and younger Black people, Black youth and Black trans people, and how they're not always held by larger orgs in the ways that they need to be held. So, I've been trying to navigate space in that way, and also trying to help with arts initiatives and healing initiatives.

I also got trained to be a medic, but I still haven't utilized it because I was so sick for so long, and I didn't get my COVID-19 test back until near the end of the uprising pretty much. So I was only out there once and I didn't need to do anything or apply anything to anybody medically. But yeah, those are the small ways that I've been contributing.

Explore: Beyoncé Celebrates Juneteenth With "BLACK PARADE" & Epic Black-Owned Businesses Directory

It sounds like a lot.

Saleh: Psymun's been doing a lot. Mutual aid efforts, I think. Right?

Christensen: I have a car, which is helpful too for a lot of people right now, so I've been helping with transportation. North Minneapolis got hit really bad when there was those weird specific few days of attacks from white supremacist groups and stuff. So I've been letting a couple stay at my studio in Northeast Minneapolis because they were being terrorized where they live. I guess I've doing a lot of food and medicine supplies delivery. I was at some of the protests.  

I'm not trying to sound like I've done a ton or anything because I haven't done as much as I could, I'm sure. I guess my point is that having a car has been a way for me to be helpful because transportation is huge and being able to deliver stuff to people is really huge.

Read More: Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Isaac Hayes, John Prine & More To Be Honored With 2020 Lifetime Achievement Award

Saleh: I think it might encourage other people to do it or to help people who need emergency safety stuff like that couple does. Everything's so heightened and everybody's tensions and personal entrenched violence has been lifted to the top, everything's lifting up, so I think community being there for each other and being able to have spaces for people to be safe are vital. To have spaces and resources for people to sit and rest or to get rides, all of those are very essential and seeing one person do it will motivate another person to do it.

Christensen: Yeah, I feel that. And yeah, that's a huge part of, when you were talking earlier Dua, about how it almost feels like things have gone back to normal but are still so different. Because I feel like the community has come together in so many different places that it really never existed before and among different people. It's definitely interesting and great to see the community almost just running things and it feels like people aren't relying on authority. Especially law enforcement, obviously, but any higher ups—it feels like less people are relying on or trusting those systems and we are looking to each other more now because of the uprising. And I imagine it's like that elsewhere, not just here in Minneapolis.

I want to make sure that we talk about ROSETTA. Dua, how did it feel to release your second project out into the world? And I'm also curious of what inspiration Sister Rosetta Tharpe had with it, based on the title.

Saleh: It feels—I don't know. I feel like there's a huge amalgamation of feelings that I'm experiencing just because I released it at such a sensitive time. Usually there's time for everybody who works on the project—I guess I've only released two EPs now—but usually there's time for us to talk about it, celebrate together. Because of the urgency of the times COVID-19 safety measures, there have only been group chat celebrations. I haven't seen Psymun in a long time and I haven't seen Alec [Ness], who mixed and mastered the project, in a long time.

It's felt odd, but it feels good to have it out now because I feel like people needed a reminder to re-center, and a reminder to sit with art and to let that flow through their body. Especially with all of the death and turmoil that's surrounding us, with George Floyd's murder specifically in Minneapolis, but also the many other murders of people, like Tony McDade, and Riah Milton and Dominique Fells, who were two trans women murdered within their communities.

Read: The Curious Career Of The Legendary Sister Rosetta Tharpe

But there's just been so much death and turmoil that I think people needed a source of healing. Sister Rosetta Tharpe is a huge source of healing for me personally—the person that music historians' credit as the inventor of rock and roll is a Black queer woman. Finding her music was a huge source of my personal healing in my journey towards lifting the burdens of life off of my own shoulders. And I wanted to use the narrative of her legacy to entrench into this project.

It happened naturally though. I wasn't thinking about Sister Rosetta Tharpe when I made all of this music, but obviously all music that is rock inspired or that's indie-inspired has a root. And for us, I think the root is Sister Rosetta Tharpe and rock and the origins of rock and roll music.

 

I agree that music and art, and this project specifically, is definitely something that is needed right now. The whole EP has a lot of interesting sonic elements, so I'd love to look at the different elements of "smut," which I was really drawn to, and you sing in Arabic on it.

Saleh: The song was produced by Psymun and Sir Dylan. I wrote the song acapella and then they put production over it, and then we added Velvet Negroni's vocals on it and Psymun manipulated that. The song was primarily written in English, about sexual escapades, primarily about my ex, but there's a portion of the song inspired by the Sudani Revolution that happened. I use the term Kundaka, which was inspired by Kandake which means queen in Nubian text, but I queered it to mean gender nonspecific royalty.

The song is one of my favorite songs off the project as well. Psymun, you can talk about the sonic elements of the production, if you want to.

Christensen: Yeah, that song, me and Dylan, I remember we were making a lot of the percussion out of crazy noise samples that we both had. It was really fun. I remember Jeremy, Velvet Negroni, came back to record his part another day and his throat was all f**ked up. But he was so in love with the song that he still pushed through for it.

How can the music community at large better support Black and queer artists?

Dua: The best way to support Black and queer artists is by offering them direct financial support and listening to their concerns. I've curated a Spotify playlist called DO IT LIKE DUA featuring mostly Black trans and queer artists [the playlist includes Mykki Blanco, Noname, booboo, Kehlani, Frank Ocean and others]. Please listen to these talented artists and donate directly via Spotify's COVID-19 Relief fund on their profiles or find them on Bandcamp. 

Also, consider following them on social media. The artists I've highlighted are very knowledgeable about ways to give back to the community. In addition, they all have very humorous, engaging and critical content! Please show them love.

How Black Trans Artists Are Fighting To Achieve Racial Justice & Amplify Queer Voices

Fantastic Negrito

Fantastic Negrito

 

Photo: Lyle Owerko

 
News

Fantastic Negrito On How His New Album, 'Have You Lost Your Mind Yet?', Is A Timely Commentary On American Society

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The two-time GRAMMY-winning singer-songwriter tells GRAMMY.com how he tackles the many forms of mental illness, including racism, on his latest release and how he continues to use his music and art as a form of protest
Joshua M. Miller
GRAMMYs
Jun 25, 2020 - 5:41 am

"Focusing on what can be done not what cannot be done." 
 

Two-time GRAMMY-winning artist Fantastic Negrito, the moniker of Oakland, Calif.-based singer-songwriter Xavier Dphrepaulezz, tweeted out those words earlier this month while reflecting on the ongoing injustices he sees in American society. For the past five years, he's used Fantastic Negrito as an outlet to speak out musically against social issues like gun violence, opioid addiction and homelessness—parts of what he considers a broken political and social system. But as a lifelong optimist, he feels there's a solution to each problem if we work together to solve it.

On his new album, Have You Lost Your Mind Yet?, out August 14 via Cooking Vinyl/Blackball Universe, he scales down the scope of his songwriting to ground level, writing about mental health in America and reflecting on specific people he knew growing up who have impacted his life. That includes "I'm So Happy I Cry," a collaboration with Tarriona "Tank" Ball of New Orleans-based Tank And The Bangas, which the artist premiered today (June 25). 

The song was inspired by the death of rising rapper Juice WRLD in late 2019 due to an opioid overdose. Dphrepaulezz feels too many young artists fall victim to overmedication, especially recently due to stress from coronavirus-induced social distancing and the fear of dying unjustly at the hands of the police.

"There's something very sick and wrong with a state-sanctioned police force that arbitrarily murders people disproportionately," Dphrepaulezz tells GRAMMY.com in a recent interview. "I feel that there has to be a significant movement against this and something that's tangible that people will be able to hold onto after this is all said and done and quiets down. I think Have You Lost Your Mind Yet? is completely in step with our current situation because people—yes, they have lost their mind. They expressed it in the streets, and as Martin Luther King Jr. once said, 'Rioting is the voice of the unheard.'"

Have You Lost Your Mind Yet? sees Dphrepaulezz voicing encouragement for those struggling with their form of mental illness. Sometimes it's found in untraditional places, such as "How Long?" where he pleads for the shooter to stop their violence. The album also features collaborations with E-40 via "Searching For Captain Save A Hoe," a remake of the rapper's 1993 hit, as well as Masa Kohama on "Your Sex Is Overrated."

Much like his previous releases, including his pair of GRAMMY-winning albums, The Last Days Of Oakland (2016) and Please Don't Be Dead (2018), Have You Lost Your Mind Yet? continues Dphrepaulezz's timely commentary on American culture and the nation's most urgent issues.

"My music is just my social commentary as a human being and an artist living on the planet, and there's such a wide spectrum of issues," he says. "I just try to feel the pulse. It's exciting to feel the pulse, make an assessment and then write material and create art around that pulse. It's what inspired me to come back as a musician after years of layoff and become Fantastic Negrito. It's OK to write about injustices and inequalities. This is a great position to be in as an artist."

GRAMMY.com chatted with Dphrepaulezz about his new album as Fantastic Negrito and how he's combating the various forms of mental illness, including racism, through his music.

How are you doing today?

Well, I'm better than some. I'm not as good as others, but I still like my chances as a human being.

You've been using social media as a way to start conversations about everything, from rappers getting back to political and social commentary in their music to your thoughts on the fight for equality. Why are these real-time conversations important to you?

Twitter is like a nice, warm, safe place for me. I like that I can really just express a million views. My view is, if you have a platform, use it. If you're living in the world and society, be a contributor. That's just something I believe in philosophically. I see Twitter and Instagram and all these [platforms] as a way to contribute. You could get up on your platform and scream out stupid things, or you could get on your platform and try to connect and engage. Be a contributor, a positive force in the world. Be a voice of reason. Be in that tribe, the voice of reasonable people. I like that tribe.

On your first two albums as Fantastic Negrito, The Last Days of Oakland (2016) and Please Don't Be Dead (2018), you took a bigger-picture approach in talking about issues plaguing the country such as gun violence and homelessness. Why is it meaningful to write about those topics?

My music is just my social commentary as a human being and an artist living on the planet, and there's such a wide spectrum of issues. I just try to feel the pulse. It's exciting to feel the pulse, make an assessment and then write material and create art around that pulse. It's what inspired me to come back as a musician after years of layoff and become Fantastic Negrito. It's OK to write about injustices and inequalities. This is a great position to be in as an artist.

On your new album, Have You Lost Your Mind Yet?, you scale things down a little bit to a more personal level, with songs about people you know. Why did you take this approach?

I think it's important because if you really want to change the world, we got to start with ourselves. If we want to effect change and make really positive and good things, then we have to start with the people in our circle. Community is a word that people like to throw around, but it really starts with ourselves: It starts with our brothers and our sisters and our cousins and our co-workers, and we have to build coalitions with these people. I thought it was interesting to just write [about] the state of people around me. There seems to be so much [of] what I call just an attack on the brain, this mental illness that we're all living with. We're functioning people in the society every day, but we're living with this disease—whether it's depression, the proliferation of too much information, racism, slogan-isms ...

I thought just the dependence on social media and the internet—man, it's a mental illness. And so it was interesting to write an album from that perspective and talk about real-life people. Because, of course, the people walking down the street talking to themselves, that's the easy part, like, "Wow, they're mentally ill." But what about your friend in the cubicle? What about your brother or your cousin? How are they coping with the challenges of modern society? 

[Our society] is so technologically advanced and yet it's so far-removed from the emotional context of a one-on-one [conversation] with a person and looking into their eyes rather than staring into our so-called smartphones and looking to get validation—likes and followers. That's our value system, when in fact, you can buy likes and followers. So what does that say about our value system?

For me, this is a mental illness. I've been doing social commentary now for three albums. I'm happy and proud to know that my fingers are on the pulse. We're in the midst of [the] COVID-19 [pandemic] and everyone is stuck inside; this is interesting. They keep knowing what's going on and being right there.

Do you find it's important to put a face to an issue when you're writing a song?

I think on this record, I did particularly put a face to each song and that's what made it probably the hardest record that I've ever done, to be that transparent, like in [album tracks] "Chocolate Samurai" and "How Long?" 

[On] "How Long?" I was really writing about the shooter, the perpetrator of violence. I was writing about the guy who lost his humanity so much that he chokes out a Black man in Minnesota on the street. I was writing about the kid who went into a church and shot up nine Black people. I was writing about the Las Vegas shooting. I was writing about Sandy Hook still. I mean, where do we go and where do we lose it mentally to where we feel like that, that we can justify murdering children?

Something is very wrong in our society where we take it as, "Hey, it's rainy today and there [were] 25 people killed in Las Vegas. Hey, so what are you guys doing later?" I mean, it's just become so casual. And again, I felt like, "Wow, this is more mental illness." So I wrote that song from the perspective of not the victim, surprisingly. I'm saying, "How Long?" But it's the perpetrator of violence, the shooter.

How do you think the album relates to the recent nationwide protests against police brutality and racial injustice?

I think it relates 1,000 percent because there's no other mental illness that destroys, decapitates and deconstructs communities as much as racism. It's perhaps the greatest mental illness of them all. I feel like on "Chocolate Samurai," I ask and I say, "The whole world is watching, get free tonight, my people, my teachers, my soldiers." It's like a rallying cry … in my view that we seek freedom. Freedom and peace go hand in hand, like brothers and sisters; they need each other because you can't really have one without the other.

"I'm So Happy I Cry," which I did with ["Tank" Ball from] Tank and The Bangas … "Searching For Captain Save A Hoe," which I portray myself as the whore with E-40, who's one of my favorite rappers of all time. But songs like "King Frustration," because people are frustrated and I wanted to write about that. 

All of this tied together to me with this proliferation again of a mental illness that seems unchecked. There's something very sick and wrong with a state-sanctioned police force that arbitrarily murders people disproportionately. I feel that there has to be a significant movement against this and something that's tangible that people will be able to hold onto after this is all said and done and quiets down. I think Have You Lost Your Mind Yet? is completely in step with our current situation because people—yes, they have lost their mind. They expressed it in the streets, and as Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "Rioting is the voice of the unheard."

Read: Fantastic Negrito On Studio Magic, Chris Cornell, "Dark Windows" & More

Despite the tough subject matter, you often are able to find a glimmer of hope in your songs and provide encouragement that people aren't alone facing these various issues.

I've always been an optimist. I'm the eighth of 14 children. For whatever reason, it made me an optimist. I had to be a survivor from day one, like, "Hey, will you get that glass of milk or water? Will you get a clean pair of socks? Will you even get some acknowledgement from a parent with so many children?" It turned me into an optimist, and I've always walked towards the light. I lost my playing hand in [a car] accident. I was in a coma for three weeks and I lost my playing hand. But you know what? I just always walk towards the light and I try to write from a very positive place. There's enough destruction in the world.

I've watched a few interviews recently of African American celebrities and politicians who have talked about how their celebrity or status has impacted how people viewed them. As a GRAMMY winner, how has that applied to you?

As a two-time GRAMMY winner, I just don't live in that world. I live on a small farm. Oakland is a small town. I don't live in L.A. or New York, and I just don't really have any interest in that, so I don't pay attention to that. I'm really focused on growing food, being part of a community and creating albums, making contributions to the world that I live in. 

I don't live my life like a celebrity or any of that; I'm not looking for that. I guess you are what you think you are. I'm just a regular guy. I'm one of us, but that's my honest opinion, that I live in small media markets. It's wonderful. Small-town mentality, big aspirations.

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Do you have any personal stories regarding the recent protests?

In this current phase of protesting, I'm a person that believes that we can all protest, but that doesn't mean that they have to be in the streets necessarily. I'm only speaking for myself, personally. That's something that you may have done at one time. But then as you get older, you evolve from the streets and you can start your protests in other ways, or it can turn into a photo op. I'm not really interested in doing that. The greatest protest against tyranny, oppression, police brutality is to make sure you have the tools to fight against them. If you have the tools, make sure that you're sharing those tools and teaching people younger than you how to use and apply those tools.

I really love that form of protest. Having a platform and just writing and creating music that means something and that is a contributing factor—to me, it's all protest. The news, the cameras will all go away. I'm not into being someone's flavor of the month. What I can do is support and encourage peace and justice and try to be the voice of reason. 

I'm not getting out to the streets at 52 years old and taking on the cops; that's not my thing. You got to evolve past that. You want to boycott some stuff? I love that idea. It's got to be organized. We just can't scream out slogans over and over again. I mean, what do you do after that? What do you do the day after that?

Obviously, through my music, I'm not one to follow trends. I'm here to support meaningful, long-lasting reform. That is interesting to me. The first opponent I get to face is me every day. You have to let these young people speak, too, man; I've done my damage. Let these 20-year-olds speak, let them have the mic for a change, let them rally in the streets. It's their time. 

I'm going to write music. I'm going to use my art. I'm going to use my platform as I have in my last three albums, The Last Days Of Oakland, Please Don't Be Dead and now Have You Lost Your Mind Yet? I've been doing it very quietly in a small town in Oakland, and the GRAMMYS have recognized it, [for] which I'm very grateful.

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