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Childish Major

Childish Major

Photo: Al Pham

News
Childish Major On His Long-Awaited Project childish-major-george-floyd-thank-you-god-for-it-all-atlanta-hip-hop-interview

Childish Major On George Floyd, The Essence Of Atlanta Hip-Hop & His New Project 'Thank You, God. For It All.'

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Childish Major wanted to release new music for more than a year, but the pandemic and murder of George Floyd gave him pause. But now that the world's opening up, his new project 'Thank you, God. For it all.' feels perfectly timed
Morgan Enos
GRAMMYs
Aug 9, 2021 - 10:47 am

Every member of the COVID generation probably remembers the first day they stepped outside, met up with a friend and was finally seen by someone else—not their partner or pet. Childish Major is acutely aware of this. The Atlanta MC wanted to drop new music throughout the first wave of the pandemic, but it never felt right given its extroverted, block-party energy.

Especially after the murder of George Floyd, which left him—a Black man himself—devastated.

"It was pretty dark," he tells GRAMMY.com over Zoom from his parked ride. "It put me in a position where I was like, 'What do I do? What do I need to do? How can I help?'" While he briefly considered making some music in response, the idea felt flimsy. Instead, Major opted to band together with his friends, family and colleagues in the rap game to commiserate, vent and heal.

One year after George Floyd, the world is opening up in fits and starts amid the Delta variant setback. After a period of sitting back, thinking and listening, it feels like the perfect time for Thank you, God. For it all. Brief, incisive and fat-free, the EP, which dropped July 23, features potent collaborations with Yung Baby Tate ("Check"), ScHoolboy Q ("Disrespectful") and other modern greats.

Read More: Yung Baby Tate On Success, Working With Issa Rae & 'After The Rain Deluxe'

GRAMMY.com caught up with Childish Major about Thank you, God. For it all. and why it's a soundtrack to feeling yourself—in his words, "fly," "hot," and like "poppin' s***"—while cruising around the ATL.

How does it feel to have Thank you, God. For it all. dropping soon?

Man, we've been waiting for a minute to drop this project. I feel like I've made three projects, maybe, since COVID hit. We've been itching to drop something in general. This seemed like perfect timing. The music is for outside, and outside is kind of opening back up now. So, that's the energy.

Was it delayed due to the virus?

No, it wasn't pushed back due to the virus, really. In the beginning, it was more like I had music that was ready to drop. Then, COVID hit, and it was like, "OK, what do we do?" Then it's like, "OK, I'm ready to drop!" and then George Floyd happens. I'm messed up about that. I'm like, "I can't self-promote during this time." Then, I get past that to a certain extent and it's like, "Alright, now I'm ready." It just so happened to be the time that everything's opening up. It's the perfect time.

Read More: One Year After #TheShowMustBePaused, Where Do We Stand? Black Music Industry Leaders Discuss

What went through your head when you saw the news about Floyd?

Ah, man. I mean, it was the news, it was conversations, it was my grandparents, family. It was pretty dark. It put me in a position where I was like, "What do I do? What do I need to do? How can I help?"

Did you feel like you wanted to respond with music in some way? Or, perhaps, with silence?

I felt like I wanted to respond with music initially, but then I felt like, "Maybe a musical response is kind of corny right now. Maybe my silence is a little bit better." Yeah, man. I just remember having a lot of conversations during that time. It was very heavy.

After all, there were already a lot of songs with titles like "Say Their Names" out there.

Yeah, you don't want to play with moments like that. It's a very serious thing. Even right now, I'm thinking about it, and that's taking me to a place where I definitely don't want to go back to.

I mean, there are people like Anderson .Paak. [He] dropped his song ["Lockdown"] and seeing the visual, man, he executed it very well and in a very respectful way. For me, it wasn't important to be seen at that moment. I was just filling it with people, honestly.

Read More: George Floyd, Breonna Taylor And Elijah McClain Are Drifting From The National Discourse—These Musicians Remind Us To "Say Their Names"

Now, we're in a different space in time. What did you want to say with this project that differed from past ones?

Well, the title itself is Thank you, God. For it all. Before thinking about the title, when I was in the music process, having conversations with Don Cannon, who was the executive producer, I was sending him what I was working on prior to this project. It's more vibey, it's moodier. It's a storyline; it's strings and poetry. It's this world that I created.

He's like, "This is dope, but I feel like we need to cut through. You make music that cuts through and grabs the attention, and then you start taking people into a world." So, that was his mindset while coaching me through this project. He started sending me production. I don't know if you've ever been to Atlanta, but it's Atlanta energy. You've got to come down one time.

When we talk about Atlanta energy, it's young. It's hot. It's being in the streets. It's being at the strip clubs. It's fly. It's riding with your top down. It's that type of energy. That's what I feel people are going to take from it. These are records people are going to listen to on the weekends. "F Yah Job," that's going to be out on Friday. Everybody's Friday is like, "Man, I'm not trying to be here right now. I'm out of the office!" You know what I'm saying?

Childish Major

Childish Major. Photo: Al Pham 

That's the vibe of the project, but the title itself—Thank you, God. For it all.—especially from all of us coming off of COVID and the George Floyd thing, that's been my mindset and my personal mantra as far as what could get me to whatever this next step is in my life. I know a lot of people who are trying to figure out work or their living situations due to what COVID did.

Thank you, God. For it all. is like an agreement ahead of time. I'm grateful for where this is going to go, because I know it'll lead me somewhere I need to be.

Musically, what separates Atlanta hip-hop from other scenes?

Well, for one, Atlanta is a young city. It's a young Black city. And when I say "young Black city," I don't even just mean age. I feel like even older people in the city, we all talk alike. We all talk the same. There's a language. It's very Southern. It's very gritty. It's very raw.

It's suave, for lack of a better word. It's poppin' shit. When you put on a fly outfit and you look in the mirror and you're feeling yourself, that's the energy. But that's the energy of an average person in Atlanta, you know what I'm saying? Everybody is feeling themselves to a certain degree.

Especially with Instagram and all that, which usually gets a negative connotation as far as being narcissistic or conceited. But in real life, we all need confidence because that's what's going to get you to the next day.

What do you appreciate about your collaborators on this project?

Ah, man. Everybody has their own little niches, but Hollywood Cole is super diverse. He had the single "F Yah Job," which is probably the most top-down record we've got on here. But he also produced the title track, which is more boom-bap. That's what I love about Cole: That he has a lot of diversity.

Cannon is a coach, but he can play, too. You know what I'm saying? He oversaw the whole project, but then came through and gave us the record "Down South." Wavy Wallace, man, he has a lot of different styles, too, but he gave us a bop on here. DJ Mark B, well, he's a DJ, so he knows what needs to happen. He knows what's going on, so he gives us bangers every time.

I feel like some rap fans view boom-bap as being a little backward or antiquated, although it's the style I gravitate to the most.

You've got to have it. It's necessary. Even Drake without his boom-bap records, I feel like he doesn't become exactly who he is right now. I feel like it's necessary.

Sounds like it's the equivalent of the 12-bar blues in rock music. You can't stray too far from it.

Yeah, it's the core! You've got to feed the core.

"I'm grateful for where this is going to go, because I know it'll lead me somewhere I need to be."

What's the state of the rap game? Is it straying from sing-rap or mumble rap into a more traditional territory or the opposite?

Nah, it's always going to be a mixture. I feel like you always need diversity. It's necessary. Sometimes, it doesn't feel like [the deal], like "Damn, I don't like this." You just have s*** you don't like; excuse my language. But it's a necessary evil. You have to have that gauge or that range from super amazingly talented people to people who are just trying s*** and it just goes. 

There are flukes all the time, but are you going to turn it into what they call 15 minutes of fame, or are you going to stretch it? And the people who want to stretch it, they'll home in on their craft a little bit more and be like, "Oh, wow! I did that on a fluke! Well, let me try to get better!" Sometimes, they turn that 15 minutes into five years.

I'm primarily in the jazz world these days, but I feel like it's the same as all scenes: There are humble, talented people and then there are opportunists. Is the rap world like that, too?

Man, the rap world is completely like that. I'd say it's more like that than in jazz. In the rap world, I've got friends whose four-year-old daughters make rap songs. And they sound good! Or good to the extent of what kids are going for, especially with TikTok and all that stuff going on right now. It's the people's music.

Olamidé On The Ascent Of Afrobeats, Supporting Newer Artists & His Subdued New Album 'UY Scuti'

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Question

Question

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Don't Think Of Question As A Blind Rapper 2021-interview-blind-rapper-producer-question-accessibility

Meet Question, A Rapper/Producer Who Doesn't Want To Be Boxed In By Blindness

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People might read about Question and think of blindness as his chief attribute. Really, he's a rapper/producer coming in hot, full stop—even as he speaks out for improved accessibility in the music business
Morgan Enos
GRAMMYs
May 26, 2021 - 1:47 pm

Is blindness an obstacle? In one sense, it's indisputably true. To not be able to engage with the physical world in all its aesthetic vibrance is an incalculable loss. That said, is it only an obstacle? It doesn't have to be—and it only takes a quick Zoom call with Question to realize that sightlessness has opened up new channels of intuition and perception for him.

Despite being just 23, the rapper/producer born Isaac Malik Wilson possesses acute self-awareness. On being blind in a mostly sighted world: "Until you encounter something in the world, it's kind of hard to have knowledge on it," he tells GRAMMY.com. "I don't really fault people for that." He's been making waves in the accessibility sphere, designing audio games for the blind. To this end, he's "making the world more aware that there is a market for this type of accessibility."

But above all, Question doesn't want to be thought of as encumbered, but a musician, full stop. And he hopes his upcoming debut album—title and run date TBD—will speak for itself without the blindness tag. "A lot of times, people with disabilities can be put into a certain category," Question adds. "But we would just like a chance to communicate on the same playing field and platform equally with everybody else, and have our message received."

To lead up to National Disability Employment Awareness Month in October, GRAMMY.com caught up with Question about his experience of being blind from birth, how he mastered audio technology without the aid of vision, and what he hopes his debut album will impart to the world.

Question

Question. Photo: Jahi Gilkey

This conversation has been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.

Can you talk about your experiences as an artist with accessibility needs?

I have been blind since birth, and I've also been in love with music since birth. Basically, sound being the medium that I receive most of my information through, I just grew up having an affinity for music and things around me. So, pretty much from the time I was learning to talk and interact with my environment, I started making music then.

I used to learn on little toy keyboards to copy melodies off TV. I don't know if you're familiar with the See 'n Say [toy], with the little pictures of animals and things? I used to take that and DJ and make it into an instrument. So, I started with music as early as I could. By the time I was six years old, I was already freestyle rapping. By the time I was 12, I was making beats on my school laptop.

Are you currently promoting new music?

Right now, I'm in the process of getting some new music together. I'm in a transition period where I officially, finally got a team behind me. [My manager] David [Jackson] has been helping me so much with everything. So, right now, we're kind of in between me making a lot of music for people in my hometown and the fanbase I've acquired. We're getting ready for a commercial release on all platforms.

Congratulations! That must feel really great!

Yes! I can't lie—it feels awesome and gives me a lot of anxiety because I'm just so ready. I'm very curious to see how everybody reacts. I'm curious to see what the results are. I'm just so excited, so there's a lot of pent-up hyper-ness inside me because I've wanted this for literally my entire life. I've never pictured myself doing anything else. This has always been my dream and my aspiration.

What can you tell me about the project you're working on?

This album is an introduction to me. It's basically trying to let people into my life through the first glimpse into my story. Letting people know how it is coming up in Atlanta as a blind person and as a young kid through rap, you know? Giving as many different iterations through hip-hop as possible.

I study a lot of different music. I'm a big fan of several different genres. Being a music producer as well, I try to mold those together and pay homage to a lot of people who have inspired my sound and allowed me to create. So, this album is really about trying to launch me and introduce people to my sound while, at the same time, giving back to everything that's allowed me to be where I'm at.

You must have grown up loving words, then, if hip-hop has always been one of your primary vehicles.

Absolutely. English was definitely my favorite subject in school. I used to dislike math, but then, as I got deeper into music and music engineering, I found a love for math as well, because there's a way to check your work. Numbers don't lie. You can see the truth in formulas. But English was definitely the first subject I had an affinity for.

What challenges have you faced as a blind person in music?

I guess the most daunting challenge that I faced early on was accessibility, which basically means that a lot of things weren't available to me independently. I had to have people use the computer for me to work certain programs, or set certain things up in the studio. 

So, it took me a little bit to figure my way around these things, but as I got used to using the computer and learning more about the world and everything, I was able to find accessible software. There's things called screen readers which actually speak aloud all the words on the screen. That enabled me to use vastly more music programs. 

Even though some of them have graphical interfaces—I'm not sure if you make music as well—but you may know from some music programs that sometimes there's a lot of waves on the screen, and sometimes, you have to draw things in. Some of those weren't as easy for me to use, so that was the first big hurdle I had to get over—to find my own way to manipulate the software.

In which ways do we still have a long way to go in providing accessibility to artists?

I think the technology has definitely reached certain heights where many things can be made accessible. The information is out there. The ability is out there. Now, it's just about making the world more aware that there is a market for this type of accessibility. There are a lot of people out there with something to say. I guess the inclusion factor comes to mind.

For example, when Apple makes their iPhones, they come with something called VoiceOver, which is an accessibility assistant. They come with that right out of the box. You can hold down Siri and say, "Turn on VoiceOver," and then a blind person will be able to use your phone. I would just love to see more corporations and technology conglomerates factor blind people into what they're doing in that kind of way.

Question

Question. Photo: Jahi Gilkey

Do you consider yourself part of a community that shares your experience?

Yes, I definitely consider myself part of the blind community as well as the technological community.

I've actually had a hand in making a few different audio games for blind people. A lot of us like to game and chill out and have pastimes like everybody else, but we're not able to play some of the mainstream games like Call of Duty or Grand Theft Auto, so we make our own adapted versions. So, there's definitely a lot of people who are knowledgeable about increasing accessibility and working on these things.

A lot of people whose senses are intact might not think about it, but they should think about it.

Yeah, it can be overlooked. Until you encounter something in the world, it's kind of hard to have knowledge on it. 

I don't really fault people for that. I just hope people can be more open-minded when encountering someone with a disability, whether it be blindness or anything. I would love to also be a catalyst for allowing people to ask more questions and realize that we are willing and quite happy to have conversations on this subject, educate people and talk to people, just as someone else would.

It might also be helpful not to treat it as an obstacle, full stop. You're obviously a bright and intuitive guy. Blindness seems to have opened up parts of your mind that many sighted people don't have access to.

I'm passionate! Unfortunately, there is a quite significant unemployment rate in the blind community. I think that's largely because many people haven't been shown a pathway or opportunity to make something work for themselves. Sometimes, it's a confidence thing, but [other] times, it's a matter of not having a template to look at. I definitely want to show people that they can make things happen for themselves.

How can we interface with and support the blind musical community?

There are a few [organizations] I know of. [The] Andrea Bocelli [Foundation]. There are a few that are active. But also, it's just a matter of being willing to look at us as regular musicians who have something to say. A lot of times, people with disabilities can be put into a certain category. Like, "That's the blind rapper." 

But we would just like a chance to communicate on the same playing field and platform equally with everybody else, and have our message received. Because we do have a lot more in common than our differences. Everyone loves to laugh. Everybody has a favorite food. Everybody enjoys a conversation. Everyone's passionate about something. That's the goal here.

How The Music Industry Must Work To Close The Accessibility Gap: 4 Eye-Opening Takeaways

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Aminé

Aminé

Photo: Micaiah Carter

News
Aminé Talks New Album 'Limbo,' Black Lives Matter amine-limbo-interview-portland-protests-black-lives-matter

Aminé Talks New Album 'Limbo,' Portland Protests And Black Lives Matter

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GRAMMY.com spoke with the 26-year-old rapper about taking his time on his sophomore album, his love for Kobe Bryant and finding peace in not always knowing what's next
Victoria Moorwood
GRAMMYs
Aug 16, 2020 - 4:59 pm

As fans hungrily devour Limbo, his newly released sophomore album, Aminé can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Over two years in the making, the LP marks his official follow-up to his 2017 debut, Good For You. After generating a promising buzz, starting with his 2016 summer smash, "Caroline," Aminé released a placeholder mixtape, OnePointFive, in 2018. In between, he took his time to carefully craft Limbo.

"I couldn't have made the same album if I'd only had six months to make it," the 26-year-old rapper told GRAMMY.com just a few days after he released Limbo. "It meant a lot to me, so I gave every song the time and care that it deserved."

Limbo comes full circle for Aminé in several ways. The album is a mature sophomore project—it features tributes to his mother as well as his icon from his hoop-dream days, Kobe Bryant—yet pines for simpler days when he wasn't expected to have everything figured out. The album features familiar faces, including Charlie Wilson, Injury Reserve, J.I.D, Vince Staples, slowthai, Summer Walker and Young Thug.

Limbo also arrives as thousands of protestors have demonstrated in the streets of Aminé's hometown of Portland for more than two consecutive months in the wake of the police killing of George Floyd in May. Born to Ethiopian and Eritrean parents, the rapper shares his experience as a Black man who grew up in the predominantly white city, which was once a Northwestern epicenter for segregation and deep-seated racism. 

"For a city to be so liberal, it was so racist—the way I was brought up," he reflects. "It's the place where I grew up and I love it to death, but it's also a place that never made me feel like I was welcome."

GRAMMY.com spoke with Aminé about taking his time on Limbo, supporting the Black Lives Matter protests in Portland and finding peace in not always knowing what's next. 

Congratulations on releasing Limbo! You've been working on this album since before you dropped OnePointFive in 2018. How does it feel now that your new album is finally out?

It was a bit nerve-racking, 'cause it's like your baby. But it feels really, really good. It kind of feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. 

Why did this album take two years to release?

I think that's just where I was at in my life. The platinum plaques and gold albums are really cool, but I had certain artistic places that I knew I hadn't gone yet, and there were still certain things I wanted to achieve. And I knew I wanted to make a more mature album. Not to discredit my past work, but they are fairly different. I just feel like, I'm 26 now, I'm a bit older, and I'm trying to make an album that will last 20, 30 years from now.

Read: Aminé On Beyoncé, Prince & All Things 'Good For You'

There are several Kobe Bryant references on Limbo. Did you ever get to meet him? Or was he just a big role model for you?

No, I never even got to meet him. He was just somebody I looked up to. I didn't pursue music my whole life—I pursued basketball. He was just someone where, I never knew a life without him, which is what that ["Kobe"] skit is kind of about. 

There are also lots of references to Portland on the album. Being from Portland, are you surprised by how many people have showed up to support the Black Lives Matter movement there? Or do you think the protests have been a long time coming for the city? 

I'm generally not surprised because Portland is liberal. It's literally the definition [of] liberal. Everyone in that city has a Black Lives Matter post in front of their lawn; they support the movement, and they've said that for years. But the history of [Portland] is kind of hypocritical. 

For a city to be so liberal, it was so racist—the way I was brought up. So for me, Portland is just like the South. Growing up there, it never felt welcoming for anyone who was Black or any sort of minority or was an immigrant. Them [protesting] is a beautiful thing—I love the protesting. But it's also like, I'm not gonna send my Black family or Black friends out there to protest. Because if they're beating up white people, what do you think they're gonna do to us? 

Them protesting is what they should've done 20, 30 years ago. So I guess it is a long time coming. But the problem is, the people that are protesting are the same people that are moving the Black people out of Portland neighborhoods and gentrifying the hell out of the city. So my love for Portland is like a bittersweet relationship … It's the place where I grew up and I love it to death, but it's also a place that never made me feel like I was welcome. 

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Have you been involved in the Portland efforts at all, whether through protesting or donating?

In Portland, I've only really helped my friends and spread the word. For me, there's a lot of other places and Black people that I can support, whether it's feeding the Black people in Portland or supporting Black businesses; I've given money to Black businesses in Portland. 

I love your song "Mama" on Limbo. Does your mom like it? 

Yeah. [Laughs.] My mom loves it. She cried the first time she heard it, which was cool. 

What made you want to write a song for your mom?

I had been trying to write a song for my mother, to be honest with you, for years. I tried to put it on Good For You. I tried to put it on OnePointFive. But you only really get one shot at making that kind of song, so I cut those songs because I didn't feel like they were good enough. This was the first time I had made one that felt really perfect. The beat was so joyful and soulful, I was like, "We have to put this on this album."

Read: G Herbo Talks 'PTSD' And The Importance Of Mental Health: "People Need To Treat Mental Health More Seriously"

The features on Limbo seem very full circle. For example, you collaborate with Young Thug and team up with Injury Reserve and Charlie Wilson again. Was that intentional?

I didn't really plan them out, it was more so like I was a big fan of all of these features. Like J.I.D, he wanted me to send him the beat to "Roots" for a while, and I wouldn't text it to him because the music meant so much to me that I wanted him to record his verse in person. So seven months later, he pulled up and recorded his verse, just 'cause he's my homie and he knew how much this album meant to me. 

Were most of these collaborations recorded pre-quarantine then? 

Yeah, all of these songs were made like a year and a half ago. There's been like 50 different versions of them. I've treated this project like it's the highest of importance. It meant a lot to me, so I gave every song the time and care that it deserved … I couldn't have made the same album if I'd only had six months to make it. Songs like "Roots," there's a line that people really love right now where I say, "Eritrea, Ethiopia, Habesha utopia." I didn't add that line until a year later. Things like that, making the perfect verse, takes a lot of time. 

Where were some of the places you recorded Limbo? 

All over the place! We recorded with slowthai in London. We recorded with Vince [Staples] in L.A. We recorded "Easy" with Summer Walker in Jamaica. We recorded "Compensating" and "Can't Decide" and "My Reality" and "Shimmy" in Toronto. We recorded in Portland, too; we did "Pressure In My Palms" there. 

I know you direct most of your music videos, and I've read that you're interested in film. If your career were in "limbo" or you wanted to try another artistic outlet, what might that be?

Definitely movies and TV shows … I've had a couple ideas for a couple years now, so it's just about trying to maneuver it in the right way. I think being on "Insecure" this past year was a great start for my acting debut. I'm just trying to be selective with the things I do because I wanna do as well in film as I do in music. It just takes time, but hopefully we reach those levels in the next coming years. 

Where did the name Limbo come from?

It was just really where I've been at in my life. I think a lot of people expect rappers, artists and just anyone who's put on a pedestal to have all the answers. Limbo was a title that I felt was a perfect definition of where I'm at personally in my life and to let fans know that I'm literally in limbo—like, I don't know what the f**k I'm doing. I'm still growing up and I'm still just figuring it out. 

DaBaby Talks 'BLAME IT ON BABY (DELUXE),' Black Lives Matter Remix Of "ROCKSTAR" And Rap's Obsession With Deluxe Albums

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Common

Common

Photo: Brian Bowen Smith

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Common On New Album 'A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2' common-interview-new-album-a-beautiful-revolution-pt-2-social-justice-j-dilla-black-thought

Common Opens Up About 'A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2,' Social Justice In The Mainstream & The Unceasing Spirit Of J Dilla

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These days, Common is visible and praised for a variety of extramusical things, like acting, writing and philanthropy. But his new album, 'A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2' shows he's still as razor-sharp an MC as ever
Morgan Enos
GRAMMYs
Sep 13, 2021 - 1:45 pm

More than a year after the murder of George Floyd, social justice has perforated the mainstream like never before. It's on our bookshelves and shop windows; corporate America hires diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) officers; media representation has taken center stage. This might spark suspicion: Where was the POC hiring spree before an innocent man was murdered in public? 

But to Common—a three-time-GRAMMY-winning conscious rapper just as famous for his music as his rallying for social equity—we need not assume the worst of people; it's just human nature. Sure, those posting slogans so as not to get yelled at will always exist, but sometimes it takes gl​​obal trauma for people with busy schedules to open their eyes and take notice.

Read More: One Year After #TheShowMustBePaused, Where Do We Stand? Black Music Industry Leaders Discuss

"Everyone was going about their business, and I've been one who went out about my business," Common tells GRAMMY.com over the phone. "But when things get drastic, sometimes you pay attention to it: 'Man, this can't happen. This is not good. This is inhumane.' The inhumanity of what people saw last year has changed people's thoughts." You can't say we don't live in a different world now, and it all started from within—which Common's new album is all about.

A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2—which follows 2020's Pt. 1 and just arrived September 10—inverts the purview of its call-to-arms predecessor, homing in on how external change flows from within. This understanding permeates its best tunes, like "When We Move," "Set It Free" and "Star Of The Gang." 

When he recently performed the former song on "The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon" with Black Thought and Seun Kuti, an infectious sense of brotherhood radiated through the TV screen. And it's that spirit of conciliation, he says—not yelling and screaming—that will catalyze true change.

Read on for an in-depth interview with Common about how he learned to freestyle, the humanistic vision behind A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2 and how he keeps J Dilla's spirit aflame every day.

This interview has been lightly edited and condensed for clarity.

Nice to meet you, Common. How are you feeling?

I'm just really inspired and feeling happy and excited about the new album. I just did an L.A. Leakers freestyle on their station. You've got to check it out if you get a chance. It's these DJs and they call themselves the L.A. Leakers. They have a segment where they have people come through and do freestyles. It's getting a lot of buzz, so I'm happy. I'm getting a lot of good calls from friends at home. 

There's nothing like when your friends that you grew up with get inspired and sparked about what you're doing. It's a good feeling.

Do you remember when you learned to freestyle? How did you train your brain in that way?

I don't know if it was training. I guess there's a practice to it, but I really just dove into it and started doing it and realized it's something I love to do and fun in the way it made me and my friends feel—people that were around.

I was actually thinking about it the other day: "When did I start actually freestyling?" I don't know the actual time period, but I do remember being in gym class in high school—probably around my sophomore year—and freestyling with one of my classmates and friends who used to beatbox good. He would always have songs and ideas that were real vulgar. I would kick these other rhymes—and I would say some wild stuff too, sometimes—but it was just fun.

That's when I remember actually freestyling more and more. My name is Rashid, so they'd say, "Rashid, kick a freestyle!" I would get into it, and they'd freestyle with me. That's when I started working on the craft. I don't remember where and when it started.

I imagine it's like unlocking part of your brain, or stopping the overthinking part.

The word "free" is in it because you truly have to have a free mind and spirit to do it. I've been around people who aren't super-great rappers, but they're great freestylers because they're able to be spontaneous and say fun things and not take themselves too seriously. 

I think that was one of the things for me: Understanding that it's OK to mess up. It's OK that it's not perfect. It's OK to have a couple of bars that ain't as dope as the other ones. There's a freedom in letting go and letting your thoughts come out and express yourself in that raw [form]. You don't have a lot of time to think.

Honestly, the things we love about certain aspects of music: James Brown and those guys, some of that was just the feeling of the music. They were playing it and taking in what was in the moment. One of my favorite artists, John Coltrane—what he's doing is improvising in certain moments and just playing what comes to him and what he feels.

I think that's what great vocalists do. Ultimately, that's what freestyling is. It's a feeling.

Read More: ​​'Giant Steps' At 60: Why John Coltrane's Classic Hard Bop Album Is More Than A Jazz-School Worksheet

Now that you mention it, I imagine the roots of freestyling go back to early American folk and work songs—extemporaneous vocalizations.

Yeah! Now that we're talking about it, it's funny: You're making me want to think about "When did people start coming up with songs right on the spot?"

It is something you see artists in other genres of music do sometimes. PJ, who I worked with on this new album—she worked with me on A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 1—I've never seen a vocalist come up with so many songs in a moment. She basically could be a cypher, freestyling. She has that type of ability.

I definitely see people in other genres. I've seen Erykah Badu do it at a performance, but she also raps, too. Erykah can rap. I think PJ can, too. In this era, I think people who do it have some sort of hip-hop connection.

Read More: Didn't Cha Know?: 20 Years of Erykah Badu's 'Mama's Gun'

Before we dive into the new album, I've got to ask: Who do you think is the greatest freestyle rapper of all time?

[Considers the question carefully.] I actually think that Lupe Fiasco is up there.

Oh, wow.

Because I heard him freestyling and I was like, "Yo, this dude is incredible." It's really special what he was doing. I think he's one of the greatest freestylers I've ever heard.

Is the magic of a master freestyler the idea that they can spill out something that seems carefully written? Or does it have more to do with a raw, rough-and-tumble quality that can't be preconceived?

I think it's saying something where it's like "Man, did he write that?" The rawness is going to be there. 

And let's be clear: If we're talking about freestyling in front of a crowd, you want to keep it simple. You want to have something that people can hear. You don't want to go over their heads. But if you're doing it for a radio show or something, you want to have some lines in there because people are going to go back and listen. People that love hip-hop study lyrics. They listen to the lyrics and play it again and say, "What did he say here? What did he say there?"

To me, the highest level of freestyling is being able to not only have the raw element but be able to say something clever where they can feel like, "Damn! How did you come up with that with a nice simile or a good metaphor within the freestyle?" I've been around people who can kick a story in a freestyle, which is amazing.

Even though you've been doing this forever, do you feel like you have a ways to go as a freestyle rapper?

Bro, I definitely feel like I could get better. I have a ways to go. I know that I could get better. I want to evolve and grow and expand. I want to do that only as a freestyle rapper, but as a writer, as an artist, as a musician. I just want to grow.

Let's face it: No artist and musician—or human being, for that matter—has reached perfection. You might have some really divine moments where the song is just exceptional and incredible, but you still get better from there. That's what's inspiring me, to be honest, as a musician and artist: "I could do better." There are things I don't know in music, obviously. There are things that I'm learning and places I haven't gone musically.

Listen Up: From Aretha Franklin To Public Enemy, Here's How Artists Have Amplified Social Justice Movements Through Music

As I listened to the new album, I mulled over the word "revolution." We hear it all the time these days, as well as similar ones like "reckoning," but it's been commodified and commercialized over the decades. What does it connote to you right now?

I think it means radical change. That was a word that always stuck with me. It's a go-to saying for me: "It's a revolution."

I heard the song "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" when I was young. One of my best friends used to play it. Even though I didn't know everything Gil Scott-Heron was talking about, I heard the word. Basically, as I started to discover Bob Marley and KRS-One and Public Enemy, my interpretation of "revolution" began to expand and I started to discover what it meant to me at that time, or what they may have meant by it.

My definition of a revolution has now opened up even more because I used to think of the revolt aspect of revolution. The overthrowing of systems and things that have not been beneficial to people—the people. To Black people. To brown people. I thought about overthrowing and changing those systems. But the more I started to learn things about life, I started to understand that a revolution was even beyond that.

To be really clear with you, I even thought of using the title A Beautiful Revolution because one of my heroes, a woman named Assata Shakur who was a Black Panther and was exiled in Cuba, had a quote about how revolution is love and treating your partner well. Revolution is honoring yourself. She was saying all these beautiful things.

At one point, she said "Revolution has beauty in it." I was like, "Ah, yes! Yes! Yes!" It's still a radical change for me, but the radical change may be the way I treat myself. Changing the way I approach my mornings. Changing the ways that I talk to my daughter or listen to her. Changing the way I think about my diet.

I think about revolution now not only as "We've got to dethrone the system!" It's more like, "Man, how did that change happen within me, within myself? How do I issue that change to other people—people close to me and strangers?" That's what makes revolution palatable and valuable for me now. That's what my definition of it is right now.

You're interested in internal revolution first. Perhaps cleaning your yard before you offer to clean your neighbor's.

Yes. Within this project, A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2, I felt like that was the mission. The intention is to put out energy that's like, "What's love? What's self-empowerment? Where can we find joy? How do we create hope for ourselves in times where things have been difficult?"

There's been a lot of hurt out there. There's been a lot of loss and a lot of the unknown. A lot of change for us. But I still believe in the power of human beings and the power of God. We can be positive and put good things out there and create happier days and times.

It starts inside. There could be a lot of things going on outside and, depending on how I approach them and look at them and receive them, it'll determine the way I look at them and what my mind-state is. I'm talking about the internal revolution first and then looking outside and seeing what we could do to change them.

Can I get your opinion on how social justice has perforated the mainstream lately?

There's definitely a commercialization of social justice out there. A lot of companies we see are making it like that's what they're about and that wasn't what they were about two years ago, three years ago, or 10 years ago.

But you know what? I feel like it's OK. Because I would rather you start doing some things, even though it's not for the right reason at first. If you're helping some people, it's still healthy and you're benefiting some lives. In the course of that, you will feel like "Man, this is the right thing to do." Maybe it becomes more of a practice.

I don't know if you've ever heard the saying "Fake it 'til you make it"? People will tell you, "Man, just say you're great until you become great." I don't mean you don't put in the work until you get there, but I'm saying it's a great step if people are even putting it out there. I see Black women in a lot of commercials now. Or kids getting opportunities in Hollywood. Film studios are like, "We've got to get some Black creators in this, and brown creators and people of color and women."

Even if, at the beginning of it, it was just because they got forced to do it and there was a society-wide wave going on, it's still a good wave. This can actually benefit us. And the more we do it, it becomes who we are—a reality to us. You also, by doing it, are going to invite and attract people who are sincere about it. They can help change the real scope of it.

After George Floyd was killed, I had a director I worked with on a commercial call me. He said, "Man, listen: I own one of the biggest commercial studios in the country. Do you know any young Black directors that I can help develop? Even if they haven't directed commercials, do you know anybody?" And I gave him a list of some people. 

I don't know if he used the people I knew, but he found some directors and got them working. To me, that was a sincere thing. He used the platform that he had and really had been affected enough to say, "This is how I'm contributing to bettering the world and changing things. I have power and I have this privilege and I've been paying attention, so I'm going to do it now."

My long answer to that is: Yes, social justice has been commercialized, and giving Black people a fair shake, that's been part of the wave. But I think it's a great wave and it can become part of the DNA of our society at some point, the more we do it. I'm happy to see the opportunities coming.

While what your friend did is beautiful and commendable, stories like that can also invite cynical readings: "Why weren't those opportunities being extended back when an innocent man wasn't being slaughtered on the news?"

Well, listen, listen. Let's face it. I've been guilty of this too. There are certain things that go on in the world that we just don't pay attention to. Some of the struggles that Black people have been experiencing in this country, some people didn't pay attention to.

Man, the life of George Floyd is something special. To many, he was an average human being, but him losing his life in the way he did really opened a lot of people's eyes. It really changed things. Some people, by seeing that—years ago, like I said, they weren't on that. They weren't thinking. Everyone was going about their business, and I've been one who went about my business.

I was doing work for a lot of inner-city youth and Black people, but there were issues going on that I may not have paid attention to. But when things get drastic, sometimes you pay attention to it: "Man, this can't happen. This is not good. This is inhumane." The inhumanity of what people saw last year has changed people's thoughts.

That's a really compassionate take on it. It's just human nature: We're busy. We can't grasp all the ills in the world at the same time. What I'm getting from what you're saying is that it's OK to respond to a stimulus. It doesn't make you a bandwagon-jumper, necessarily.

It is. If you're doing it from the intention of "Listen, I've got to do this because it's for my business. This business has to work and if I don't say anything about Black people at this point, our business will fall," the truth will come out at some point and it won't last long what you're doing. It will be revealed at some point.

But it's OK to be like, "I didn't even know much about this struggle, but now I'm seeing this has changed me." To be honest, that's what life offers you. Life gives you that gift, in a way. People don't need to lose their lives for certain experiences to change us, but that's what happened, in many ways. If somebody says "Man, I didn't know anything about this and I didn't care and was just going about my business but now I do," I respect 'em because we're all human.

There was a time I was sitting there doing a documentary on Black America and this author was like, "Man, do you ever think about the plight of women?" I was like, "Man, I talk about it sometimes, but I haven't been involved in the fight in a way I could be!" It was a wake-up call.

So, my point is: We all sometimes need to be awakened to things going on with other peoples' struggles. There's somewhere in my humanity where I say "If there's something to contribute towards helping this cause, I'm going to do it."

Let's talk about the new album a little bit. What did you feel you wanted to say with A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2, that you didn't necessarily get to on Pt. 1? Or is it all kind of one thing, just divided in half?

I think, on Pt. 2, I got to look at the hopeful side of the struggle. Pt. 1 was written while we were dealing with the deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. The election was going on. There was a lot of dissension and conflict and hurt and angst and it was a charged era. I consider that music movement music.

But Pt. 2 is, "What is the next step in the revolution?" As you spoke to earlier, I said, "You know, we use that word a lot, but what's the next step in it? What's the progression in the revolution?" In Pt. 2, I felt like I was saying, "Man, having a good time is the revolution." That's part of the revolution, to find places where you enjoy life. Also, giving yourself self-love is a revolution.

That's why, in this song I've got called "Set it Free," I'm telling a woman, "Don't let anybody—this guy—determine your happiness. You create that and then you can bring your happiness to them. But don't let somebody else outside of you determine your happiness. You've got it in you."

Common

Common. Photo: Brian Bowen Smith

Is there a part in revolution where we may have to interact with or even dignify people whose views we find reprehensible? We're in the era of "distancing yourself" from others, but I have my doubts about that. You may have to have a heart-to-heart with them.

Man, you and I think alike in certain ways. I truly believe that people who think like me—or may think the total opposite—I still don't mind sitting down and dealing with them. I like to deal with them. And we might come out still not agreeing, but I heard you, you heard me. It gives you a better understanding, and hopefully gives room for me to be me and you to be you.

Now, if the person is consistently not going to listen or give you the time of day, at a certain point, you've got to make a choice. Like, "Man, this ain't going nowhere. I've sat down with this person five times. I've sat down with this organization five times." 

But otherwise, I remember being on the campaign trail doing some canvassing. We were in Jacksonville and there was this woman hollering out how she was basically pro-Trump. I went over there and talked to her. She was talking about abortion and how she'd never vote Democrat. I was just listening to her, and I didn't even try to convince her too much. I was just trying to be respectful and nice to her.

I think one of the things we overlook is just listening to the other side or somebody who doesn't think like you. Just listening to them is something. It's paying respect. It's necessary. I believe heart-to-hearts are necessary. That's where growth comes in. If I sit down with people who always think like me, I'm not even learning anything new!

And the change I want to see: I ain't changing them. The church members who need to hear the preacher are the people in the streets. Now, I'm using church as a metaphor, but I think the real messages should go out into the hoods and places where people don't want to hear what you're talking about. You hear them out and you give them [a new way] to think about things.

If you want to change people's hearts, the worst possible way is to insult them and call them names. They'll never listen to you after that.

That never works for anybody. It takes some work because we all have feelings. If our feelings are hurt and somebody says something or we feel emotional about something, we want to spew out what we feel. I'm saying that to say: You've got to be slow to anger. 

If you want to get a point across, you're never heard when you're yelling at someone. The person you're yelling at won't respond, "Oh, man, I actually hear you. That was powerful what you said. I receive your message," because they've been screamed at. How can they receive it if you're screaming at them? You're already attacking them. Anyone who's being attacked is going to defend themselves in some way.

On the topic of community and connection, tell me what you appreciate about your collaborators on A Beautiful Revolution Pt. 2—their individual artistic voices and what they brought to the table.

Well, Brittany Howard is one of the most gifted, individualistic, talented and true-to-her-artistic-tastes artists that I've been able to be around or even, honestly, listen to. She knows what her voice is and ain't going to let that be diluted.

She's so true to what she believes is quality. When we did the song "Saving Grace," she was like, "This is what grace is to me." We talked it through and worked through some more ideas. I was like, "I want to say something about grace," and she was talking to me about how grace is power. I was like, "Keep that part. Just make sure grace is in there. That's what I want the song to be about." Her perspective needed to be heard. I really appreciated it and think it's super dope.

Man, I love her. And then Marcus King is so soulful. What he brought to the song "Poetry" was grit. We wanted to feel like somebody was sitting on the porch singing, and he did that. I just love his music and think he's a really special vocalist.

PJ is featured on a lot of songs. As I mentioned earlier, she's one of the dopest songwriters and one of the most stylish vocalists I've been around. The way she styles with her vocals is just unique and fresh. She can do a lot of different things.

Then: Black Thought! Black Thought is one of the most prolific and incredible MCs to ever exist. He's been an inspiration for me forever. I've worked with him forever. But when I heard the song "When We Move," I was like, "I wanted something that sounds like a Fela Kuti kind of hook." Black Thought introduced me to Fela Kuti's music back in '96. 

So I was like, "Man, Tariq, can you give me a hook? I want to talk about how we move—the way we as Black people move. I want to celebrate our Blackness and the influence we've had on the planet." He came in with that hook and he brought Seun Kuti to the table, who is Fela's son. It tied everything together and also made it international to me. It made it a global-sounding song to me. I was geeked about it—excited!

And then the poets I have—Jessica Care Moore and Morgan Parker—I mean, they're incredible writers. The poem at the beginning, "Push Out the Noise," says so much. We had a conversation and I was telling her about how this album is about being still and what I've found in that stillness. What I found is the joy and happiness and power within me and different things that are positive for me in being quiet. She took that and wrote a beautiful piece.

Morgan Parker's the poet who ended the album. She's an inspiration to me because I read her poetry and then I want to go write. I love poets who do that for me, like James Baldwin, Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni or Dr. Maya Angelou.

Those are some of the collaborators, and I've got to give it up for the collaborators who produced it. Karriem Riggins produced this album and it's co-produced by Isaiah Sharkey, who plays guitar and other instruments and is one of the [greatest] cats around. He's from Chicago. Boom Bishop is the bass player, who also came up with some of the tunes. 

Collaborating with him, I feel like the music goes to so many places, and this album has taken me to places I've never been before musically. That feels incredible for me, because I've been making music professionally for some years now. I've never rhymed to a beat like "Get it Right" or "Set it Free" and I've definitely never rhymed to a beat like "Poetry."

I remember doing "When We Move" on "Jimmy Fallon" and Jimmy was like, "What sample is that?" I was like, "That's not a sample, man! Those cats are playing that!"

Read More: GRAMMY Rewind: Watch The Roots And Erykah Badu Gleefully Win Their First GRAMMY in 2000

Speaking of: How did it feel to play on "The Tonight Show"? That must have been like a family reunion since you've worked with the Roots and Soulquarians so much.

Dude, that was so much fun, man. I was so excited. The Roots are my family and Black Thought is my brother, man. I love him. We wanted to present something that was fresh. We videoed Seun Kuti in Nigeria. We also had a director work on some visuals for us.

I felt like we were rocking that joint. I felt excited to be there. I think you can see the excitement on my face. My mother was like, "Man, that song is incredible! You rocked that!" so it's always good to have a little love from Mom.

I've been revisiting Like Water For Chocolate, which turned 20 last year. When you think of those times, what immediately comes to mind?

Being around some of the greatest musicians and artists that the planet has ever seen. D'Angelo is timeless and incredible. Erykah Badu. Questlove is a genius. We see that not only with his music,  but the movie Summer of Soul is a masterpiece, man. Being able to go from one studio and work with Mos Def to working with Bilal, and then Jill Scott coming to rock with us. Talib [Kweli] had been around; Dave Chapelle came through the studio, just hanging out.

Read More: I Met Her In Philly: D'Angelo's 'Brown Sugar' Turns 25

Everybody loved J Dilla and wanted him [to participate]. He was in Detroit, so he would come out to work with us. Electric Lady was the place we worked, and then I just remember flying out to Detroit and creating with Dilla—really developing a sound that was inspired by Fela Kuti and Slum Village. I came up with my own thing, but these producers gave me the best music.

We were going to do a 20-year celebration, but things couldn't happen with that. So I'm grateful that that album exists. Some people come to me and be like, "Like Water For Chocolate is my favorite of your albums!" and a lot of musicians who play say, "Man, I was digging into that album."

And that's one of the things I want to say: I'm a hip-hop artist, but I'm also a musician. I don't really play any instrument at a professional level yet, but the point is, I love when musicians tell me they love my music.

Can you reflect on J Dilla a little bit? I'm sure he still feels like a presence in your life.

J Dilla will always have a presence in my life. He was the most gifted musician that I had worked with. His music hit people in ways I had never seen music influence. People reacted to him. I walked into a studio with J Dilla and Pharrell got down on his knees and was like, bowing down to him: "You the god!" James Poyser, Questlove and D'Angelo used to call him "the god": "That's the god right there!"

And his spirit: He was a good dude, man. He was dynamic, meaning he was a Detroit dude who entertained and drove around in a Range Rover. But he was sampling Gentle Giant and Herbie Hancock and Dave Brubeck. He was so, so musically gifted and just a wonderful friend in his soul.

I love him and will keep his presence. It's around. It's here. It will continue to impact me. At times, I feel that presence influencing and inspiring me and I'm grateful for it.

Do you feel that your best work is ahead of you?

Yes. Yes. I do feel my best work is ahead of me. I feel that I'm learning more and more about music and life, and that's allowing me to be my highest self and creative self.

Common Tells The Stories Behind 'Like Water For Chocolate' For Its 20th Anniversary

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DJ D-Nice On Headlining DC Jazz Fest dj-d-nice-on-headling-washington-dc-jazz-fest-2021

Why Hip-Hop Heavyweight D-Nice Is Headlining DC Jazz Fest 2021: "To Me, Jazz Is Infused In All Music"

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The DJ and rapper famous for "Call Me D-Nice" is about to headline DC Jazz Fest on September 5, sharing the stage with some of the genre's leading lights. What compels a hip-hop legend to headline the largest jazz festival in our nation's capital?
Morgan Enos
GRAMMYs
Sep 3, 2021 - 2:27 pm

Ask almost anybody in the burgeoning crossover jazz sphere about the barriers between jazz and rap, and they'll glow about how they're evaporating before our ears. Kassa Overall once called the two "from the same tree as far as where they come from, which is Black music in America." Jon Batiste recently opined to GRAMMY.com, "I don't even think genre exists." 

While D-Nice doesn't take the unity of the two genres quite that far, he can attest to their connections: He's headlining the biggest jazz festival in our nation's capital on Sunday, September 5.

"Growing up, we used to look for jazz records to sample, and jazz records always had the best grooves to them," the rapper, DJ and producer famous for solo hits like "Call Me D-Nice"—as well as hard-hitting works with KRS-One and DJ Scott La Rock as Boogie Down Productions—tells GRAMMY.com. "That's part of the way my set is: I'm blending in a lot of those kinds of records, but I'm also blending in songs that were inspired by jazz as well." 

During his headlining set—where he'll step on the same stage as bandleader Maria Schneider, pianist Orrin Evans, violinist Regina Carter and other cream-of-the-crop musicians—expect exactly what D-Nice promises. There will be hints of straight-ahead bebop—he namedrops Thelonious Monk and Dizzy GIllespie—but also music that bears those artists' inescapable influence.

Read on for an interview with D-Nice about what listeners can expect at his DC Jazz Fest appearance, the intersection of jazz and hip-hop and why he's making the most authentic music of his life right now.

How does it feel to be headlining DC Jazz Fest this weekend? It seems like a distinct honor.

To be honest with you, it's been an overwhelming experience just to play the music that I love and to have people receive it as well as they've been receiving it. Whether it was virtually or looking forward to this Sunday, obviously—D.C. is one of my favorite places to be—but just sharing music the way I was able to throughout the last two years, it's going to be great doing this live.

What's your connection to the jazz lineage? How does this music emotionally speak to you?

To me, jazz is infused in all music. Being a hip-hop artist, growing up, we used to look for jazz records to sample, and jazz records always had the best grooves to them. When you go back and listen to Thelonious Monk, we sampled those records. That's part of the way my set is: I'm blending in a lot of those kinds of records, but I'm also blending in songs that were inspired by jazz as well.

Whether it's A Tribe Called Quest or anything that DJ Premier produced, I'm kind of infusing that with songs that have heavy horns in them that were jazz-influenced, like Stevie Wonder. It should be a very interesting set.

Read More: "Loops Of Funk Over Hardcore Beats": 30 Years Of A Tribe Called Quest's Debut, 'People's Instinctive Travels And The Paths Of Rhythm'

The longer I work as a music journalist, the more genre distinctions seem blurry or even meaningless. Is there that much of a difference between jazz and hip-hop?

I mean, of course, there's a difference, but it just depends on the artist. I was looking at a video clip of Shock G from Digital Underground and he was breaking down the way certain rappers would rhyme. The way Biggie flowed—I can't remember exactly how he described it—but the way the flow was, it was like someone playing trumpet. 

To me, it was just brilliant, because we've all been inspired by jazz music. Like, Miles Davis' Bitches Brew—Heavy D sampled that. Those records that have that groove to them have always been an important part of hip-hop production. I do understand what you're saying that the lines have been blurred a bit, but the influence is what it is. It starts there.

You mentioned your musical output over the last two years. What has this period been like for you?

Obviously, I've been doing my Club Quarantine [Instagram Live series]. But going back even before [that], I was always traveling the road, DJing and playing big venues, whether I was in Vegas or Atlantic City or Miami. Private events for everyone from former president Barack [Obama] to GRAMMY events. When the world was forced to pause for a minute, we couldn't do any of those things. 

I feel like I found myself musically—being able to play what I wanted to hear and not what I thought people wanted to party to.

Was that a big motivator in the past? Making music that would make a crowd turn up above all?

Oh, yeah. Before, you're kind of promoter-driven. It just depends on the night. At times, I would have to play EDM because it was an EDM night. That high-energy, Vegas-style DJing. Or, if I played private events—whether it was a Spotify or GRAMMY event—I would have to play a lot of new music, [like] Billie Eilish. So, I knew all of those records.

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But over the last two years of this quarantine, I was able to just play the music that I loved. There was no audience in front of me, yet there was an audience listening to me. What I loved was what resonated with the world. So even on Sunday coming up in D.C., it's going to be heavy jazz, but I'm tying in songs that feel like when you have Dizzy Gillespie on a Stevie record. That's the jazz influence.

I learned to just play from my heart instead of what people wanted to hear, and it just makes my events that much more exciting.

White Dave On The Producers That Inspire Him, Why He's "Not A Rapper By Nature" & His New EP, 'Porch Sessions'

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Some of the content on this site expresses viewpoints and opinions that are not those of the Recording Academy and its Affiliates. Responsibility for the accuracy of information provided in stories not written by or specifically prepared for the Academy and its Affiliates lies with the story's original source or writer. Content on this site does not reflect an endorsement or recommendation of any artist or music by the Recording Academy and its Affiliates.