PopCulturePirates Gives Raw Perspective on Music, “The Creative Scene,” and Growth as an Artist

by Dustin

pcp

It’s impossible to not feel excited when meeting an artist with a clear passion for music. No lust for popularity, just a burning desire to be the best they can be. PopCulturePirates is one of those people, and a candid human to speak with. Pulling no punches with his perspective, it was a thrill to be able to interview PCP.  We won’t hold you up on introductions, though, as this interview has been delayed enough as it is. Let’s jump straight to the meat.


EN: First and foremost, thank you for being a part of this! We have a bit of a tradition in interviews. We always start with asking the artist to write a little about themselves, because it’s always more genuine than anything I could ever write. So, if you don’t mind, that’s what I’m going to ask of you to kick things off.

PopCulturePirates: About myself? Hmm… I don’t tend to talk about myself often. Let’s see… I was born in South America. I currently reside in Dallas, Texas. I picked up guitar after graduating high school. I don’t really know what else to say without guided questions [laughs].

EN: [Laughs] We’ll just jump into it then! You mentioned to me prior to the interview that you are a part of a band as well, but what made you interested in starting the Pop Culture Pirates side project? Was it just a desire to explore different avenues?

PCP: Actually PopCulturePirates has always been my project since I began learning to write music. My band came together fairly recently, in relation to my solo project. If anything, you could probably get away with saying my other band is my side project (but not really). My writing started to be more directed towards what I would want to see live. Which is where the band came in. I wanted to be in a band all my life (even when I was still too lazy to even dedicate time to learning guitar). However, I started to learn to do everything on my own because when I actually wanted to join friends and other people’s bands, I would get rejected because of my lack of talent.

So, it was sort of a “I’ll show them, they’ll see. l can make music too.” Kind of thing. But the actual band, being part of a group of tight friends and playing music and hanging out afterwards, that was always sort of the dream. But with more people, more bodies and hearts, come more voices, more opinions, and more bullshit. So any writing that wasn’t generally accepted, or didn’t follow the band’s sound, I would keep in the backseat and develop those ideas whenever I had time.

EN: Do you feel that having the PopCulturePirates project in your back pocket from the very beginning helped your development a lot as an artist? Because it sounds like, since you were never forced to prematurely abandon an idea, that you were able to grow a lot more naturally and freely.

PCP: Even though PCP is my “solo” project, that really is just the identifying label I slap on anything I make that is somewhat guitar driven. So, to answer that question, yes, I think being Solo from the beginning allowed me to really explore anything I wanted and absorb everything I came in contact with, and make it my own instead of trying to mold it to fit any limiting “project” I could’ve been a part of.

EN: Right. So, instead of being like some side projects that have a clean cut distinct sound removed from the artists other works (like The ILYs are to Death Grips), PCP is more of a sonic scrapbook of ideas you didn’t want to throw away? I say side projects very loosely at this point, since you clarified earlier. I just can’t think of a better word.

PCP: I would flip the table and say PCP is my music and the band is my “group” project. But for the sake of not sounding pretentious, let’s just keep referring to PCP as my solo project. Also, I really enjoy Death Grips. There’s a couple bands that just ignite inspiration in me, and that’s one of them.

Anyway, I am constantly writing music, like all the time, not even joking. Some people might think I’m trying to sound like “oh look at me I got music coming out of my hands, and feet, and kisses” (Julian Casablancas reference, by the way) and some people might think, “that’s just sad, mediocre music is all this guy can do? Pathetic.” But whatever the people’s thoughts are, the fact it I am always constantly writing melodies and lyrics and stuff. I’ve got over 11GB of demos and snippets I’ve recorded and have backed up. So it’s not really like a scrapbook, it’s more like I’m sort of rationing out my creative output.

At one point the band was all that I was writing for, but the progress of four people learning songs and getting them tighter can only go so fast and agreeing on changes and ideas. I became frustrated (not in a bad way, i just felt like I had to keep going) so I went back to writing for myself (PCP).

Oh, man, it’s really not my intention to sound like a pretentious piece of shit. I want everyone that might read this to know what I aware of my creative capabilities, I know I’m not that good making music. Or, I don’t think I am, but I am constantly getting better and one day I will be great. And then maybe I will be a pretentious asshole, when I have the skills and discography to back it up [jokingly anxious laughter]!

EN: [Laughs] don’t sell yourself short either. On that note though, do you think the current DIY scene is the perfect sort of environment for an artist like yourself? There’s such a fascination with eclectic, homemade, music. And the stuff you release under the PCP banner definitely fits that. Whereas I think some time ago, it may have been harder to have that freedom.

PCP: I think for the laymen, or just casual listeners, it’s great. There’s so much variety, so much content, they’re happy to be thrown all this cool music. Today everybody is a musician and everybody is a producer. Like the lyrics on my single Everything Is Forever say: “…Everyone with a pen is a poet, and everyone with a canvas is an artist…” Anybody with a laptop can make a shitty recording and people go wild. I don’t know if I’m happy to fit in there, to be honest. If I could make way better sounding music I would. I would love to be writing for or working with huge bands like the 1975 (I’m not a big fan of them) or Arctic Monkeys, but instead I’m making weird Lofi diy indie pop goodness. But I’m hoping to get better. I do think my material gets more and more refined the more I do it. Maybe I’m just a slow learner.

But nonetheless, i am grateful and blessed to have received the attention I have. I am very thankful to people like you, taking the time to actually listen and recognize the work I put into what I do. And yes, now that that Lofi sound is what’s sort of “in” I am able to receive such positive response. In the past it would’ve probably been met with, “you sound like you just recorded through an 8-track, what are you doing with your life? Making the wrong choices obviously.” But I recognize I do have to thank the current DIY Lofi global phenomenon for even making it possible for me to reach as far as I have. I might not even be making music today if it wasn’t for it, i probably would’ve given up long, long, ago.

EN: I definitely understand what you mean, and unfortunately I think there is a crowd that uses that LoFi sound as a crutch. That being said, I think my interest in it is less as an aesthetic and more with the people in your sort of situation. Where it’s not LoFi for the sake of being LoFi, but it’s that way for the sake of actually being able to release music. I think there’s something beautifully genuine about that sort of never quit attitude. You know what I mean? Like, I would argue even acts like The Voidz carry that sort of spirit into more refined places. It’s not limited to LoFi.

PCP: I think Julian’s work has always carried that sort of grittiness, aside from his first solo and his Daft Punk collab. He has always tried to push that outlier music to the forefront. I guess Lofi can translate in many cases to rawness, which that in itself can translate to pure emotion through various states of sonic synthesis haha. I don’t know. I think you’re right. I think Lofi is a phase and it’s more important when it becomes forgotten and moved away from. It makes it so much more important. If you’re a lofi artist and all you do is lofi, i think that’s kind of dumb and takes away from it. Lofi is like the birth sound of one’s musicianship. It defines your beginnings, but if you’re doing Lofi because that’s what’s popular now, I feel it blurs the lines of what Lofi could mean in a musicians career.

I don’t know. I think I might be contradicting myself and talking out my butt. I think Lofi, like indie, shouldn’t be recognized as a genre.

EN: You think it’s more of a state of being? Like how you wouldn’t consider “clean studio recording,” a genre. It’s a trait of the music but not a genre.

PCP: That’s pretty much it. But I’m not mad about it, I just feel like that’s what it is to me. It’s all subjective I suppose.

EN: But, you would prefer if people took the nature of your sound as a reflection of where your career is and less as a reflection of what kind of music you’re trying to make. Would that be accurate? Say, in ten years. You’d rather look back on it like “these demos showed a lot of promise even though I didn’t have full studio access,” than “I used to be a lofi artist.”

PCP: Yes. But they would be demos really, they were final products that reflected my mental state, my physical skills, my financial level, etc. For everybody else it’s just a song but I guess for my it would be like “diary.” They would **not** be demos really. Like if you keep a diary, and you started when you were little and wrote on a crappy notebook; when you look back, it wouldn’t just be about what you wrote,It would also be the feel of that sheet of paper to the touch, the smell of it, the way it crumpled up, the teardrops, or blood stains, or food droplets, or anything and everything on it, it brings you back to that moment. You can “digitize” it and copy it into Microsoft word to save it forever and it would have the same legible content, but it loses the importance of what that original object was.

EN: I’m kind of understand more what you said earlier now. When you make LoFi a genre, it strips a bit of the intimacy the artist has with those older projects away. Right?

PCP: I think so, but pop culture takes anything it wants whenever it wants it. And this is not only evident with the topic we’re on but a lot of other things going on in the world that I’d rather not delve into.

EN: Is that sort of sentiment where the name PopCulturePirates came from?

PCP: Yeah, sort of. It’s like going against pop culture, being an outsider… Culture is so much bigger than just music and fashion. But that’s the theory, not the practice. I wish I would’ve been more strict with the ethos the moniker carries with it, but I ended up making music that could be considered “pop” right now anyway. Now I’m going against myself, and what my moniker stood for. I was younger and wanted to make something that would be huge, bigger than myself. Something that could mean something philosophically, politically, socially, that people could relate to. But it never got to that, I was never able to get to that point. I think I was simply limited by my most basic musician skills. And I just couldn’t create something that big. But I’m not mad nor disappointed, it’s just a little embarrassing admitting that, but beyond that, it’s whatever.

EN: I think the name is one of those things that’s vague enough to move past your original intentions though. Don’t you think there’s a lot of potential there for listeners to interpret it in various ways?

PCP: There is, but people don’t really pay any attention to the names. I feel even musicians at this point don’t even care about the names either. Porches? Bleachers? Quilt? Even Car Seat Headrest (I’ve read the reason behind the name, but still). Those are all stupid-ass names in my honest opinion, but I love all those bands. Except Bleachers… Bleachers is “meh” to me. But Porches is amazing. Car Seat’s song “Vincent” is my latest favorite song. Quilt blew my mind the first time I heard them. But people might think that of PCP too, it has 3 very “evoking” words. I’ve been trying to push my single to a few people, and some reactions to just the name have been “that name really turned me off, I almost didn’t listen to it because of the name.” At the same time some others say that it was a great name choice, as it makes you guess what direction it’s going to go, as opposed to naming the project something mundane like “Chair.” I have no fucking idea what that means, nothing comes to mind if someone would mention a band called “Chair,” you know? But with PCP I feel like those 3 words in different combinations call to mind very different things. I realize that the “pirates” could make people think of hard punk or gypsy folk. But nonetheless, I like the name, it meant something at one point, it’s catchy, and interesting. A bit original. At least I think so.

Though, now that I think about it. “Chair” would be a very interesting name. Poking fun at all the stupid names out there right now. Might make it an album name at some point.

EN: At the end of the day though, you want the music to speak for itself, yeah?

PCP: I’m sure everyone would agree to that, yes.

EN: We touched a bit on a few acts that inspired you, but who else did you listen to that really made you want to be involved in creating music? Inspirations, so to speak.

PCP: I hate to jump on the bandwagon, but The Strokes were the ones that made me go, “hmm… that’s cool. I wanna try doing that.” I hate admitting that because I feel they inspired pretty much everyone who listened to them, sort of what they say about The Velvet Underground. They might’ve not been as commercially successful, but every single person that heard them went home and started a band. They were very influential. That’s where the “dream” of starting a band came from, after watching their first tour documentary, “In Transit.” They looked like they really loved one another and they were brothers and best friends conquering the world together. That shit was beautiful to me. That’s what I wanted. But finding a band was very hard so I ended up just honing in on “solo” songwriting, because that’s all I could do and wanted to do, at that point.

Other than The Strokes, I would say John Mayer really got me into exploring more complex guitar playing and into a little bit of blues. Blues is cool and all, and I respect it for what it is, but you can play any combination of notes in a blues scale and it will sound good. That makes it too easy and dull to me. There’s many obvious musicians and bands that made a career out of the blues, but I feel like now it’s just a learning phase. “Okay I learned to play bars, chords, and all. Now I will learn the blues scale, and then proceed to jazz music theory, and so on.” You know what I mean? I feel like I totally deviated to talk shit about the blues, but no disrespect, blues is the foundation. I love it, but I want more.

Other than that… I had a big Dave Matthews Band phase. That would be all I would listen to for like 6 months straight. His guitar playing was pretty influential. I still warm up by playing the “Satellite” riff which really makes your fingers stretch. Another band that really influenced me was an Argentinian band called Soda Stereo. I grew up with their album playing in the background pretty much 24/7.

EN: We’ve had Julian Casablancas come up a few times now, and reflecting on what you said, I have even had people in other genres mention him to me before. Aside from the brotherhood element of watching The Strokes, do you think his magnetic artistry just pulls people into music? Like for myself, I always looked up to him as someone unrestrained. It was refreshing.

PCP: I really dislike talking about The Strokes because it’s so unoriginal to do so. It feels like everyone is just in on the Strokes band wagon. I know that’s not the case, they are in fact THAT influential. They all have that rock and roll swagger. And Albert Hammond Jr., his first two albums are amazing, he is a great songwriter. But I feel like he kind of fell off with his third releases up until this last one. His last album, Francis Trouble, it’s really, really, good. And I just saw him live about a month ago. I was blown away at his stage presence, the sound, and the songs. But I could talk about them for days, but I’d rather not. Citing them as inspiration is overdone and uninteresting in my opinion. I’d rather say something like… Grimes totally inspired me to be a little weirder with my music. I actually have had a crush on grimes for a bit. And now she’s dating Elon musk. That blows my mind. I can’t compete with that. That was the whole reason I really started doing music. So I would seem cool to her and we could hang out and stuff, y’know? Now I can’t do that. How do you top Elon musk? You don’t. You can’t.

EN: So, you’d totally support a Grimes song being the national anthem of the first Mars settlement, even if she doesn’t notice you and fall in love? [Laughs].

PCP: I’m 100% on board with that. But I’d rather, you know, be noticed? Maybe co-write the anthem? With Elon’s approval obviously, I wouldn’t do anyone dirty like that. ‘Specially my boy, Elon. By that point in history he might already have developed a personal travel size death ray and is willing to use it on anyone who opposes him or gives his girl the googly eyes (for example: me).

EN: Let’s talk about Everything is Forever for a minute, because to me that song feels like you really took a massive leap in all artistic facets. Like, don’t get me wrong, I adore Death, The Kid. There’s just something about Everything is Forever that feels so complete… How do you feel about that track? Do you think it marks a new step forward in your songwriting?

PCP: To be honest, “Death, The Kid.” Is a step down from “Kanye” because “Death” was just a collection of demos going as far back as 2010 that I uploaded because it hadn’t been a productive year for my music. I didn’t really have much to show, so I decided to just upload this collection of old tracks. Aside from the two new songs I wrote that year which were Bad Luck and Kirito’s Dream. You can probably see more of a relation between those two and Everything Is Forever.

But I do like Everything Is Forever very much. I don’t think it’s too much of a leap for my style. But I do love the clash I was able to manage between very refined, Hi-fi guitars and cymbals against the lo-fi kick, snare, and vocals. The repetitive ending I initially intended on extending it for over a minute longer to emphasize the “Forever.” As in to make people say “damn, this part lasts forever” and then recognize that and the relation to the title of the song and be like “oh shit! I get it!” But then I thought to myself, nobody would probably pay that much attention to it. So I kept it shorter, but still kind of long and repetitive. But I don’t think it’s necessarily a new step, I think if anything I might’ve kept the songwriting on a leash a bit. I’ve been slowly finding out that, as cliche as it sounds, less is more. But then I went in and threw shit on its head by keeping that out-of-left-field outro.
There’s a song on the album coming out called “Where Is The Destruction,” and another called “Medallion City,” I feel like both of those challenged my songwriting a little more than EIF, each in its own way. Though, Everything Is Forever is a very emotional song, nostalgic summer vibe, sad crushing lyrics, the energy gets carried through in a very flowing fashion with its arrangement. It’s interesting. I like it. I’m proud of it.

EN: Apart from the other couple of songs you mentioned, does your new album carry that nostalgic vibe throughout? Or is it more varied?

PCP: It definitely has more variation.

EN: Does your musical process change at all when you know that you’re working on songs intended to be released on an album? I ask because I tend to get mixed answers to this, and it’s interesting. Some seem to feel their process becomes more intensive, others say it doesn’t change at all.

PCP: Not really. Usually I just write and write songs, when I have about… I don’t know, 7-11 good songs (which are usually picked from maybe 20 or so) I then “package” them as an album. For this last album though, I was approached by Breakwood Records (sweethearts) and they heard Everything Is Forever and decided to help me put out the next album. We sort of agreed on an imaginary deadline for me to provide all the songs for the LP. I ended up writing about 6 of the songs from it in like three months maybe. I did think it was going to become more intensive as I had never had any sort of “pressure” to finish songs but all that changed was me making more time in my day to day life to write music. That was it really, other than that it was sort of the same.

EN: How do you feel about doing something with a label? That’s super cool. And also, I should say, congratulations! Even with the internet, getting noticed like that is no small feat.

PCP: They’re a small independent label from Canada that just began, they’re the coolest and sweetest. But to be honest the coolest thing about it is not really being able to say “oh look at me, I’m on a label,” but instead having people that really, really, listen to my material and are critical, and honest, and interested in my music. They believe in what I do, and that honestly is a beautiful feeling.

EN: I can understand that, that’s a great attitude to carry into it. Nobody will show you more support than an independent label that loves you, and I truly believe that. On a funnier note, I am also from Canada. How does it feel to have a strange destiny bond with the Canadian music scene? [Laughs].

PCP: Dudeeeee, to be honest it’s awesome. I’m starting to feel like Toronto is replacing New York as the music city to be in, in my mind. Plus, some of my favorite musicians are from there: Dirty Beaches, Crystal Castles, Broken Social scene, Metric, and so on. And of course, who can forget, Grimes.

EN: If you had the chance to form a band composed of any living musician, who would you have in there?

PCP: If I could I would clone myself and play in a band with 4 or 5 me’s. Because anybody I would pick is probably going to be way more skilled than me, to the point where I would be the weakest link. But with 5 me’s, we all would be on the same level of everything and on the same page, plus no egos because it’s really just me, you know?

EN: You’re smart. You’re really smart. You avoided Meg White-ing yourself entirely with one of the most unconventional answers I’ve ever received. Good man [laughs]. But actually, that’s got me thinking. You said earlier that you started by learning guitar, but what was the process like learning other instruments in order to complete full songs? It’s not easy to learn multiple instruments, never mind learning how to properly work them into a piece of music.

PCP: In high school everybody had to pick an instrument, I picked drums. The instructors said all the drummer spots were taken, so I chose saxophone, they said those were taken too so they put me with trumpet. I hated trumpet then. I appreciate it now. But I don’t play it anymore. Guitar… it’s a weird story. My mother was in a band and she always had a guitar in the house I would pick it up for 3 days every 3 months and decide I wanted to learn. I never did. I got instructors that I’d go to once and never again because they would send homework and I’d rather just play The Legend of Zelda. It wasn’t until my senior year of high school where I was like, “alright, let’s do this.”

On bass I get by with just what I know on guitar. And drums I learned because one of my roommates in the college dorms mentioned he used to play drums and had an electronic drum kit. I showed a song i had done and tried to convince him that we could totally start a band so that he would bring the kit to our dorm. He eventually did and that’s where I started learning how to drum. I would often skip classes if he had already left just so I could play. Since they were electronic drums nobody would complain. It was awesome. Drums are the funnest instrument but also the hardest to learn in my opinion. I have good timing but syncing your movements, that was tough. I learned by playing along to LCD Soundsystem songs. Because the drumming isn’t overly complicated but it goes, it goes, it goes, guillotineeeee [laughs]. The drummer on LCD just keeps the beat for all the 7 plus minute songs. I love LCD, man, one of. My favorites. James’ urban poetry destroys me emotionally.

EN: Are there any others you want to add to your arsenal in the future? Maybe throw a flute solo on a PCP track in the future? Or…like, bassoon?

PCP: I have a deep fascination for sampling and the way hip hop music is and has been constructed. I will incorporate that probably into my upcoming songwriting. So instead of learning an instrument, I would most likely sample it and make it weird. But if I definitely had to choose an instrument to learn. I’d probably say violin. That instrument is so beautiful and versatile.

EN: Have you ever watched some of the artists who do live sampling on stage with an MPC, or whatever? Some of those dudes turn that into an extremely delicate art. How’d you pick up an interest in the art of the sample?

PCP: I have another project where I make experimental “beats” that I lease to small rappers. A lot of my money for gear has come from that. My love for sampling came from having an obsession with New York producer, Blockhead. He is one of my all time favorite producers. Dan the Automator too.

Aarabmuzik is a freakin’ god using an MPC live. His finger drumming is almost mathematically quantized. He’s crazy.

EN: Is there anything you fear musically? For yourself, I mean. A direction or attitude that you hope you never start to take on.

PCP: I fear running out of ideas. Of good ideas. Sometimes when I don’t write music for a while, when I come back to it it’s as if I forgot how to write songs, so I go through a couple ideas which end up in the trash because they sound terrible and I get a little fearful thinking “maybe that’s it, maybe I’ll never write anything decent again, I’m all washed up.” It sounds dumb, but that’s something crosses my mind often.

EN: What sort of advice would you give to others who’ve felt that way? I know when I’m working on my music projects, it’s a regular fear of my own too. Hell, Rajin (my other writer) has watched me have near meltdowns thinking I’ve lost my touch. What do you do to move past that worry? Just keep grinding?

PCP: As cliche as it sounds, yeah. Just keep doing it until you either find your next good idea or until you truly can’t find anything else and give up. But the latter should be if you’ve been going at it for like a year maybe? And nothing comes out, then maybe then you’re all dried. Or maybe not. I don’t know [laughs].

EN: In all seriousness though, do you find breaks from writing music to be essential to the creative process?

PCP: I think sometimes you do need breaks physically, specially after hours and hours of writing, or mixing. Your ears get shot and you stop hearing things as they actually are. Your ears get tired. But maybe you do need to let that “creativity bank” refill every now and then. So I guess short answer: yes.

Also, if anybody has any other advice as to how to deal with the fear of drying up, hit me up. There should be a better way to deal with that which I haven’t yet learned.

EN: Is there anything that you have learned along the way that you wish you had known when you first started writing music?

PCP: The actual process of learning all I know, however long it took, that’s part of the whole artist thing. If I knew then what I knew now, the journey of becoming a musician would not be as exciting and accomplishing. I honestly hate referring to myself as a musician or an artist, I feel it is very pretentious. Not to give a smart ass answer, but truly looking back, I wouldn’t share any information with myself. I would watch myself go through all of it all over again. Over the same mistakes I went through and through the same victories I had.

Although maybe having the contact information of a few people earlier on would have helped [laughs].

EN: So you’d leave a little book of phone numbers and emails, but still let yourself experience those natural growing pains? [Laughs]. I don’t think that’s smartass at all. Every struggle, every misstep, everything makes you who you are as an artist now.

PCP: Yeah, I guess. Not to get philosophical or anything, but yeah, every pain you experience makes you who you are today. So every hassle and hurdle with respect to music would make you the music maker you are today.

EN: What should people expect from you as an artist in the future in terms of releases? I know you said you were working on an album to come out under the PCP handle. Any plans for a band album release sometime?

PCP: With the band we’re actually recording at the moment. When you asked me if there was anything I had learned that I wish I would’ve know. In the beginning, I was tracking vocals at that exact time. I remember pulling my phone out and seeing your question while singing. I don’t think people shouldn’t expect anything from me. But I hope to be able to just improve and put out better and better material.

EN: And is that how you would like people to think of you? An artist with humility, but also a burning desire to continue improving every day?

PCP: Not really. Maybe in the long run, after I die, it would be cool if I don’t get remembered as a piece of shit. I honestly think my humility can easily come off as pretentiousness, somehow. But, I would just like for people to really like what I do. That’s pretty much it. Hopefully someone can see beyond the surface of the music and really get the substance of whatever I’m trying to say in that specific piece. But, as long as people just like it, I guess I’m ok with that. But my main, main, goal would be to cause in someone what other great artists caused in me.

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Album Review: Prof – Pookie Baby

by Dustin

pookiebaby

3.75/10

A few years ago, Rhymesayers associated themselves with an artist well outside of their usual dynamic. As an addition to their roster he stuck out like a sore thumb, yet his chaotic energy charmed the fanbase quickly. This artist was Prof. The other side of the coin to Rhymesayers Entertainment’s introspective conscious rap signature. He came in boasting an arrogantly brazen offering of hyperactive shenanigans within his music. He was a debauchery driven scumbag but possessed a degree of self-awareness that broke through on moments of emotional reflection. His label debut, Liability, came in 2015 and offered an excellent helping of his range. It was a mess, but so genuinely fun that it was impossible not to love. It felt like a jumping off point into something bigger for Prof. He took time away from the studio to tour but recently returned with his new album. Pookie Baby, the record which would push the sound and success of Liability forward and prove that Prof was a true powerhouse on the label.

Except, it didn’t happen that way. Not even close.

Pookie Baby missed the mark in most ways, but the biggest element of failure was Prof’s writing. His wild, party addict, white boy shtick, which normally seems natural, came across as eye-rollingly forced. The lyrics began to be more of a nuisance than a pleasure to sit through by the thirtieth time he reminded anyone listening of how often he has sex. It was funny at first, particularly on “Send Nudes,” but at a point, Prof started to sound like a meme of himself. A broken record with no range. It was hard to listen without feeling like he had phoned the writing portion for the vast majority of the release. The wit and tongue in cheek braggadocio of past releases were hard to see. Instead, there was an appeal to the lowest common denominator with empty, repetitive lyrics. It was a letdown. Prof is capable of a lot more than he showed on Pookie Baby, but the steps backwards were too blatant to be pushed aside. Given the length of time between Liability and now, it’s reasonable to say that more could have been expected.

There’s also the aspect of vocal delivery. Prof has never been a technically talented singer, but in small doses, his voice can be a lot of fun and add a unique flair of versatility that many lack. Small doses being the key. In the case of Pookie Baby, though, the singing was far too frequent and hit a point of being completely abrasive. One or two songs featuring his trademark warbling would have been welcomed with open arms; however, when it feels like half the album is an artist overusing an already spotty singing voice to avoid having to write lyrics with more depth, there is a problem. Pookie Baby had this problem. When he opted to rap, Prof’s delivery did compensate for some of the weaker writing to a degree. It still wasn’t his best work by any means, but it was passable enough for songs like “Time Bomb” and “Action” to sound genuinely engaging. Sadly, these moments were very much the minority. Prof misused his vocal tools to the point that it hurt the record severely. It’s a shame because there were a few glimpses of that bombastic skill on the album. He just decided, for whatever reason, to put a minuscule amount of it on display.

In addition to Prof delivering vocals well below his capabilities on Pookie Baby, he received little help from the instrumentals. It was more cohesive than Liability musically but lacked the eclectic charm and character of that album’s production. It felt like a binary. Either he was rapping on top of a bouncy, upbeat trap flavored beat, or he was crooning on top of something more wavy and slow. While none of the instrumentals were inherently bad, they were generic and grew dull quickly. Prof normally has enough energy to carry weaker beats, but his complacency on Pookie Baby enabled them to stand out as mediocre. Tracks were screaming for more intricacy to help carry his performance, and it just was not there. It was another unfortunate reflection of the regression Prof displayed as an artist. His production choices were that of an individual who misunderstood his strengths and appeal, resulting in a bitterly inferior product from top to bottom.

In spite of Pookie Baby’s quality issues, it doesn’t seem fair to count Prof out entirely. As much as this was a rather significant misstep, it wasn’t bad due to deteriorated ability. It felt more like he was lost musically, and leaned heavily on his crutches to be able to flesh out an album. This has happened to many an artist over the years, and a future return to form is more than possible. Regardless this is a review, and the reality is that Pookie Baby offered little of value or interest. A couple of songs were quite amusing and might be worth spinning again, but the overall product was underwhelming at best. It just didn’t click. He’s worth keeping an eye on going forward as there’s plenty of untapped potential, but this is a project better to be left forgotten.

Album Review: CURTA – End of Future Park

by Dustin

endoffuture

8/10

Life as an independent artist is one heavy with fraught uncertainty. Finding footing amongst industry giants and a never-ending feed of new music is challenging enough without frequent shutdowns of the few venues which cater to the scene. Many feel nomadic, resulting in a strong urge to return to a fleeting musical home. It was no different emotionally for two CUTRA and 4Digit, so they took these feelings and concentrated them into a project of musical venting. The result, End of Future Park, ended up equal parts mournful and celebratory. It served as a sort of “homage to [a] place which doesn’t exist anymore; never existed; or will maybe exist at some point in the future.” Quite honestly, it was done extremely tastefully.

As with Click-Bait, 4Digit handled the production in its entirety on this release; however, End of Future Park was gloomier and significantly more experimental in nature. The project had an unsettling dystopian vibe, cultivated within the instrumentation by selective use of glitch and electronic elements. In some ways, the production followed a similar formula to some of clipping.’s earlier material by taking the foundations of hip-hop and twisting them with blowed out noise and synthetic heaviness. That’s not to say that it was derivative though, as the production was still noticeably his own flavor. The final track was also created using a curated mix of his left-over production prior to relocating. It may not have been the headliner on the album, but it was a lovely bonus to the total package.

On the vocal end of things CURTA wasted no time in proving he and 4Digit’s chemistry as a team. His exasperated, hyper-observant style complimented the glitchy and dark production wonderfully. He displayed the ability to inspire a painful hopelessness with his lyrics and delivery, similar to an artist such as Joe Horton of No Bird Sing. He isn’t the flashiest or most technically advanced of emcees, yet he always seemed to bring exactly what a track was calling for. His vocals also had an almost live-show quality to them, which was the perfect organic contrast to the heavily computerized instrumentation.

To keep it short and sweet, End of Future Park sounded like a rap concert happening atop a busted motherboard…that’s being said in the most positive way possible, because it truly was a fun experience.

Featured artists were kept to a minimum on this release. There was however a single guest, and he was a rather interesting one. This was of course Milwaukee-based WC Tank, perhaps most notable for his involvement in the production of music videos for Busdriver. He appeared on the track “I’m So Cool” – one of the weirder cuts on the album – and was a fantastically placed feature. While guest artists can feel pointless sometimes, WC Tank was absolutely not one of those cases. He added a pleasant sense of variation that made the full listen all that much better.

End of Future Park was an album that might not be a perfect fit for everyone’s tastes. It felt more niche than the majority of indie hip-hop releases; however, through that process CURTA put together something fully realized and true to itself. Ultimately the narrowed focus allowed for a concise, very enjoyable project. There were a lot of things here that haven’t been explored sonically by many, if any, artists in the past and that alone was quite admirable. The fact that CURTA and 4Digit managed to adventure into uncharted territory and leave with music that very genuinely sounded great was the cherry on top. For someone actively engaged in the experimental and alternative rap scene, this was certainly an album worth giving some extended attention. For those less familiar, it remained accessible enough to not be an intimidating first step into the world of weird. It also certainly posed the question of where exactly CURTA will take his sound in the future. A question that should be met with excitement and anticipation, taking everything into consideration.

Album Review: Walter Gross – The Fra Mauro Highlands

by Dustin

FMH

8.5/10

On January 31st, 1971 NASA would launch the eighth manned mission to the moon, Apollo 14. The three person crew kicked off the 9 day mission from Kennedy Space Center’s Launch Complex 39, before travelling to the Fra Mauro Highlands on the near side of the lunar surface. This would serve as the last of NASA’s simplistic (relatively speaking) H-Type missions to the moon, as they upgraded to the longer J-Type with Apollo 15. While this particular Apollo mission was relatively understated, its legacy lives on as a success during the booming age of space exploration. An era that had a particular vibe of wonder, and captured the imagination of individuals even outside the realm of science.

One may now be asking how this is relevant to music, and Walter Gross is the answer to that question. Though he may not have been an astronaut on the Apollo 14 mission (or even much of a space enthusiast, for that matter), his love of ambient concentrative music lead him to an interesting place of inspiration: the Voyager recordings. Finding himself endeared to the organic beauty of these pieces, he began work on his own out of this world experimentation. Quickly reaching full realization with a 23 minute (50 counting the Stray Signals Cassette Mix) long tape of atmospheric allure, The Fra Mauro Highlands. An album which would suitably see release on the 47th anniversary of Apollo 14.

Though it bares his name, The Fra Mauro Highlands was not the type of project one has come to expect from Walter Gross. It abandoned a lot of the crunchier, abrasive noise elements he’s become known for in the past, opting to try something a little more ambient instead. Once expectations were subverted however, this was a wonderful listening experience. It hit the flavor of desolate space music perfectly, and managed to feel cold while also inspiring a sense of adventure. There was a particular hint of retro-futurism to the tape, to the same vein as a movie like 2001: A Space Odyssey. This was due primarily to brilliant sound contrast constructed by Walter Gross. The entirety of The Fra Mauro Highlands had an underlying subtle ambiance of whooshing and swirling sounds that were distinctly galactic and harrowing. Atop of this there were moments of gorgeously vintage sounding synthetic instrumentation, used sparsely enough to maintain a sense of mechanical exploration through an all encompassing emptiness. It didn’t mess around with precisely divide tracks. Rather, this album was one continuous piece of music that built upon itself, evolving in a natural and off-the-cuff manner.

With all that in mind, there were aspects of The Fra Mauro Highlands carrying Walter’s signature touch. It was an immensely unsettling selection of work, with the emptiness and overall tone having created a strong sense of urgency and apprehensiveness of the unknown. With artistic anxiety being such a mainstay in his music, this familiarity was oddly comforting. It provided reassurance that this is exactly how the project was supposed to make one feel, and not an emotion to be avoided. The “Stray Signals Cassette Mix” which followed the conclusion of The Fra Mauro Highlands rewound things back a little further stylistically, while having maintained the same overall vibe. It wasn’t the star of the show by any means, but it was very good and really provided a feeling of returning home to the established fan of Walter Gross. A return after a fantastic journey.

Much like the Apollo 14 mission itself, The Fra Mauro Highlands will likely go down as one of Walter Gross’ most under-the-radar releases. While it was absolutely excellent, it appealed to a listener base even more niche than his signature barrage of noise. Which is unfortunate, because it was a stunningly beautiful, and somewhat anxious, ambient album. It wore its inspirations on its sleeve, and the ambition was undeniable. Do-it-Yourself music is about pushing limits, catching waves of inspiration, and trying things outside of the box just to see what will happen. Walter Gross did all of these things with The Fra Mauro Highlands. It embodied the spirit of the scene entirely, and should find itself respected as such.

S. Reidy Discusses Until the Darkness Comes, Mental Health Concerns, and Putting in Work

by Dustin

sreidy

Not long ago, we were approached by an artist with an album – a regular occurrence as a music blog. Something was different this time though…the music had a different feel to it. It was genuine, unique, and encapsulated the alternative hip-hop vibe without derivation. After a few weeks (or a month, sorry Shawn) of sitting on the album, it became apparent that a review simply would not be enough. When an up and coming musician drops something as fully realized as Until the Darkness Comes, the most important things that can be said will only come from the artist in question. That’s why we’re here today. To discuss a project, among other things, with an emcee following their own vibe and nobody else’s.

Ladies and gentlemen, S. Reidy:


EN: First and foremost, I’d like to invite you to introduce yourself a little bit. A bit of a self-bio for readers who might be unaware of you as a person. Who is S. Reidy?

S. Reidy: S. Reidy is a rapper from Norman, Oklahoma. He likes to blend hip hop, emo, and indie music, and has opened up for acts like The Palmer Squares, Milo, Open Mike Eagle, and even bands like Walter Etc. He’s also remarkably handsome and has held hands with females on many occasions.

EN: Before we jump into discussing your album, I did want to ask something about coming from Oklahoma. It’s not a state really known for its hip-hop scene. When you were growing up and being exposed to music, what sort of rap was it that you were hearing most predominantly?

S. Reidy: When I was in 7th grade that’s when Soulja Boy was popping off, and man I hated it. I was way more into My Chemical Romance and Senses Fail and stuff like that. But around 10th grade Lil Wayne dropped the song 6 foot 7, and that was the game changer [laughs]. That song was so full of jokes, and personality. Subconsciously I think when I started discovering that, I was destined to become a hip hop artist.

But you know, to answer the question, I was just exposed to all the really popular music. Some dumb study was made recently saying “Rap just took over Rock as the most popular music”, but I honestly feel like it’s been that way for almost 10 years. Especially when that’s what a 16 year old boy from Oklahoma was most exposed to.

EN: You were exposed to popular rap, but do you feel like the other genres you were into really helped shape your sound too? You mentioned My Chemical Romance and Senses Fail, and I know guys like Open Mike Eagle consider their outside influences (They Might Be Giants in his case) to be like, equally as important as the rap they grew up on.

S. Reidy: Oh yeah, absolutely. You can definitely hear a similar brand of white kid angst in my music as those bands [laughs]; however, my sound was really shaped by other genres I listened to once I graduated high school and started listening to more wordy and nerdy artists like Neutral Milk Hotel, Sufjan Stevens, Walter Etc., and stuff like that. Oh, and definitely Pedro the Lion too.

EN: With that in mind, do you feel like coming from somewhere without an established hip-hop sound gives you a bit more of a blank canvas when approaching your own music? Because to me it seems as if you’d be pretty removed from influences and pressures to sound a certain way to fit with the scene.

S. Reidy: It definitely was a strange advantage, but honestly I feel like I’d be making this music no matter where I came from. I’ve always been the kind of guy to do something different just for the sake of balancing out what the norm is.

EN: When I was listening to your album I noticed that – but it also felt very natural to you. Some people seem to really force trying to be “different” just for the sake of it. How important is being genuine in music to you?

S. Reidy: Its everything to me. It’s cliche, but when you take time to really mediate on who you are, and what makes you yourself, everything starts to fall in line, because at the end of it all it’s very clear that you’re the only person who can be you. I didn’t mean to turn the interview into an after school special there… but what are you gonna do [laughs]?

EN: So, when someone gets a chance to listen to Until the Darkness Comes, there’s no playing. It’s just an honest to goodness part of Shawn Reidy being put on display?

S. Reidy: Oh yes. It might not be exactly who I am as person at this very moment, but it’s all feelings, stories and emotions I’ve dealt with the past 2 years or so.

EN: Almost like reflecting on a diary?

S. Reidy: Man… I’ve never thought of it that way, but that is exactly what it is. Someone on YouTube reviewed my album and called it musical meandering, which I though was also super accurate [laughs].

EN: Did you set out with the intention of having the record be an open book about yourself, and experiences, or is that what comes naturally to you when writing lyrics?

S. Reidy: You’re nailing all of these questions right on the head [laughs]. I absolutely do, and that goes into what I was saying earlier about how if you can truly sit down and block out all the worlds expectations of you, and just be yourself, you’ll never have a problem trying to be unique.

EN: Is there a particular aspect of the album that you’re most proud of as an artist?

S. Reidy: Oh dude, by far what I’m most proud of is the distinct sound I was able to come up with on this record. All my other projects sound so scattered as far as a cohesive sound goes. This project is my first that really feels like an album.

EN: Do you feel that being hands on with all stages of the album allowed you to achieve that cohesion? Was that the reason you sought to be the driving force behind all stages of its development, from production to lyrics?

S. Reidy: Oh for sure. I recommend it to everyone. Don’t wait for other people and influences to come and change your sound up. Listen to everything, and engulf yourself in it. Find identity in the music you listen to, and don’t just listen to one or two genres. If you love music, then love music, you know? And then you don’t have to rely on a producer or another musician to help you craft a sound. At least that’s what’s worked for me [laughs].

Just also make sure you get hella opinions from your friends and family, because you don’t wanna get too inside yourself either. Find a happy medium. That’s what I’d recommend.

EN: I’m curious about what your construction process was like for this album. Did you approach creating beats with topical ideas already in mind, or did you produce first, and then figure out what would fit?

S. Reidy: Most of these songs I wrote the best first, and based it on a feeling. After the beat was done I wrote all the lyrics to the song in like 10 minutes or so just to get my rawest response I could from the track, and I would clean it up from there. I’ve been writing songs that way for awhile now.

Guess I kind of just gave away my secret recipe [laughs].

EN: Now, obviously we can’t tell people how to enjoy art – but would you encourage people to approach your album as a full listen rather than just picking and choosing songs to play?

S. Reidy: I don’t know if I would encourage people to, but if you like digging into albums there is more than enough here to really sink your teeth into. If you just wanna hear my popular songs you can do that too though [laughs]. But you’re not gonna get the most out of the album that way.

EN: Popular songs aside, what’s your top three songs off the album, and why?

S. Reidy: Woah, jeez that’s hard…I’m sure this answer would change in thirty minutes too [laughs]. For now though, I wanna say: “Galavanting” because of visceral production and the cool lyrics, “Blackout” just because I feel like it’s uplifting without being corny, and probably “Nobody Nose” because of the guitar and the sweet hook.

EN: Is there a particular lyric you’re most fond of on this record? One that maybe stands out to you as some of your best work.

S. Reidy: That’s also so remarkably hard…when I think about it long enough, I think maybe the line “bagged eyes screaming in your pillows till they drip/ Till you find one day you weren’t crazy to begin with.” I think if you had to describe the album in one line it would be that one.

EN: It’s lyrics like that which made it feel to me like you had a lot to say, particularly in the realm of mental health. We spoke about it a bit beforehand, but just how much does it mean to you to be able to speak freely and candidly about those issues?

S. Reidy: You know I was thinking the other day about how almost every song on the album is about mental health one way or another. Depression is something I had to deal with for two years a couple of years ago. As best as I can I like to open up discussions on mental health and try to help people work out whatever they’re going through, as artfully and carefully as I can.

EN: When including mental health as a topic artistically, do you feel it important to actively attempt to not sound as if you’re glamorizing the “tortured artist” mindset?

I ask because having gone through depression myself, some of the music this newer generation of artists produces can be scary. Like, depression has almost become a brand. But then I see artists like you who approach it more candidly (as mentioned), and I wonder if that’s a conscious effort.

S. Reidy: It’s not conscious as much as it is just a reflection of my reality that depression is really ugly. It’s dark, deep, and numbing, at least it was for me.

As far as acts on the other end tend to sway, I never want to be a person to tell someone how to live their life. This zeitgeist of Instagram depression, is worrisome in the sense that if I had seen more of this stuff when I was depressed, I would have felt very belittled. It’s also dangerous because when people who genuinely are depressed might find some hollow fulfillment in stepping into the more glamorous side of depression, and the lines start to blur between what’s real, and what’s the act you’re putting on.
Once again, I’m not trying to tell anyone how to deal with their depression, everyone does differently. But artist and fans need to start approaching these things with a different attitude, because we’re seeing the repercussions of not taking depression seriously right before our eyes.

EN: I think the Lil Peep death in general exposed that blurred line between reality and act, that you just mentioned. People close to him are saying he was “performing like people in the WWE,” and that it was a character. But at the same time, you would have to be suffering from something mentally to be abusing drugs and thinking it’s okay to put on a depression act. The glitz and glamour that a lot of people put behind it, I think, distracts from taking it seriously. Which is a shame because a lot of people are losing their battles with these issues. And even someone like Eyedea who was very blunt about his mental state and addiction issues ended up succumbing to it.

How do you think musicians as a collective can approach things different to help mental illness be taken more seriously?

S. Reidy: That’s a really really good question, and I don’t believe that there is one answer to it.

I think the best catch all solution you’ll find here, is to make music honest to yourself. Don’t compromise hard to digest topics for music that’s easy to listen to. And do what artists are put on this earth to do. Be vulnerable.

And as listeners we need to actively pay attention to the struggle of these artists and open up discussions on how we can put all of ourselves in a better situation.

EN: Do you think that the vulnerability could also inspire others to open up to their family and friends about issues they’re experiencing? Given that even underground musicians can be huge role models to their fan base. Especially to younger teens and kids.

S. Reidy: One can only hope man… I just do what I can to the best of my ability and hope that it’s enough. Hopefully our best really is good enough when it comes down to it.

EN: Sort of touching on something topical right now, what are your thoughts on the idea (presented by DJBooth originally) that underground hip-hop is dead due to the accessibility of artists online?

S. Reidy: [Laughs]. Oh that thing huh? You know I don’t have much of an opinion about it honestly. I think I understand what they think they were saying, but if you think there’s no difference between an artist like Drake and WIKI I think your opinions are a little misguided.

But I mean, I can’t change that writers definition of mainstream and underground. It is what it is.

EN: Do you ever worry about a music writer stumbling upon your music and misconstruing things you say? Media coverage can be big, but I imagine it could be frustrating if something was read into entirely incorrectly.

S. Reidy: That’s happened to me before in a super minor way. But honestly I’m not that worried about that kind of stuff, I know in my heart that I’m a good person and if anyone every tries to challenge that based on something I’ve said or did, I have no problem confronting that.

It’s a weird hobby folks have now, attempt to twist things any which way just to ruin someone. It’s pretty lame to be honest. It’s almost of a matter of when they’re gonna come for you rather than if. But I’m 100% prepared for that kind of thing, because once again, I know my intentions, and I never mean any form of harm on anyone or anything.

EN: So you try to be genuine not only in your music and candidness with difficult subjects (such as mental illness), but also in your approach to tour music career?

S. Reidy: I mean, I don’t see any better way of approaching it. I truly believe if you’re a good person, you have nothing to hide. And if people try to chastise you for the life you’re living, just continue being the best person you can be, and the universe always has a way of paying you back.

EN: Does it ever get intimidating opening for more established acts than yourself? I imagine it’s an amazing opportunity, but if I was in that position I would be terrified.

S. Reidy: [Laughs]. Honestly, performing is the easy part. The hard part is being backstage with these artists and acting like I don’t want to take a million pictures, ask them about all their albums, and see if they wanna do a mixtape together. I’m a music dork just as much as I am an artist, so the scary part when performing with these acts is attempting to not look like a dingus in front of my heroes…

EN: Do you ever get the opportunity to soak up any wisdom from them during the process though?

S. Reidy: I mean… I started writing this album after me and milo had an hour long conversation in my garage [laughs]. I wish I could record all the conversation I’ve had with these other artists, because when I talk to them I’m always thinking “these are the words of a person with the mindset it takes to get where they are.”

EN: Do you find that these established guys have a different outlook on things than your average indie emcee who hasn’t quite figured themselves out yet? As in, I guess I mean… Do they speak about things differently?

S. Reidy: I don’t think it’s a different outlook, I think it’s just knowledge.

What I’m learning more about the people I look up to the closer I get to them, is the fact that these are people who have made a thousands of mistakes. But mistakes don’t discourage them, and they’re super happy to make them, because all that means is that they know exactly how not to do what they’re wanting to do. The confidence in yourself to remember what it was that got you where you are. That’s the kind of wisdom I’m working towards.

EN: Say a young artist approached you tomorrow, and they were extremely frustrated with their own music due to making mistakes and not hitting the mark they’ve set for themselves – what sort of advice would you pass on to them?

S. Reidy: [Laughs]… Dude unfortunately I’m terrible at motivational speeches.

My whole thing is, do you love music? Can you not picture your life without creating? Then you don’t need motivation from me. I hate when people tell me they want to make music but they never feel inspired. Like, dude, you’re never inspired? Nothing inspires you? You need to either broaden your horizons, or just admit that music isn’t what you’re supposed to do. I know that sounds harsh [laughs], but being an artist is work, if you aren’t willing to clock in to your job, then quit. You know?

EN: Plus like…do you even think inspiration is necessary to get started in art? For me anyway, in my music production side project, there are times when I’m totally not inspired, but I can still sit any play around with things and try something new. Then when I’m feeling it emotionally, I can really sit down and apply those things. There’s something to be said for just messing around and learning too, don’t you agree?

S. Reidy: Or just listening to different guitar tones for an hour and seeing which one you like more, or trying ever single drum groove you can think of that might compliment the melody of the song. Studio time and creative space isn’t always fireworks and magic, and I think that’s a big misconception among new artists.

EN: Do you think they only see end results from their favorite artists and maybe assume that just happens, without considering all the foundations that are laid first?

S. Reidy: That’s absolutely the problem, or people are just to caught up in wanting to be rockstars that’s they don’t understand that 80% of it isn’t even fun. Not that work isn’t fun, but you have to love it.

EN: Word. I think that’s a valuable lesson that everyone making music needs to learn eventually. So, I do gotta ask, what’s next for you now that you’ve released this album? What steps do you take to keep advancing your music career?

S. Reidy: I’m gonna just keep recording music, videos, do tour, interviews, tweet Anthony Fantano 43 times a day to review my album, and do the DIY thing with it man.

Album Review: milo – who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​!

by Dustin

whotoldyoutothink

9/10

At times it feels as if no independent hip-hop artist’s stock has risen as much in the past three years as milo. A protege of sorts to Busdriver and Open Mike Eagle, milo’s rise in the alternative scene was met with some speed-bumps; however, after the collapse of Hellfyre Club, he’s seemingly risen from the ashes as one of the best young emcees in rap, period. With the release of 2015’s so the flies don’t come, milo showed that he had the ability to truly reach his potential as an artist. Following this, he would slip into the shadows to work on his next project, while also sharing a couple of short releases under his highly experimental Scallops Hotel alter-ego. Two years later milo has reemerged with his latest piece of work, who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​!.

who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​! is an album with a sound entirely unique to itself. While it does clearly keep one foot in the roops of hip-hop and rap, there’s also a very clear effort on milo’s end to be his own artist. There’s an impishly playful (and sometimes coy) nature to the way milo rattles off bar after bar; moreover, it’s the type of album where the humor and poignancy is not made overwhelmingly apparent. This sort of subtlety makes who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​! an incredibly addictive listen. milo kept his writing as sharp as ever though, bringing a unique wit and thoughtfulness to each song. Each verse listens as if milo is beside the listener spilling everything he feels. Happiness, sadness, love, you name it.

If there’s a weak point to note on this album it’s milo’s hooks (or lack thereof), but honestly this seems like an aesthetic choice and didn’t really detract from the listening experience at all. Just don’t be surprised if a hook is a single phrased repeated for a break in the song. Fortunately it works well with his style, and his selection of live vocal effects keep things interesting.

Perhaps one of the main reasons who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​! is so enchanting is that it’s as complex of a listen as one wants it to be. The evolution of milo’s style has taken him to a place where his music is lyrically challenging, yet soothing and easy to consume. Compared to some of milo’s earlier works, who taught you to think is easy to vibe out to if the listener doesn’t feel like focusing too heavily on the content; however, there’s more than enough going on to feed the lyric obsessed on many subsequent listens. These seem like contradictory statements, but milo did an excellent job of balancing these aspects.

The features on who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​! were a lovely assortment of frequent milo collaborators. Of note are Busdriver, Elucid, and Deathbomb Arc associated Signor Benedick the Moor. Though Busdriver stole the show as far as feature go with his hyperactive energy, everyone brought their best. There’s not much else that can be said, aside from the fact that the features really added a great extra dimensions to the songs on which they appeared.

The production is absolutely fantastic. Handled by a variety of different producers easily recognizable by fans of milo and his close peers (such as DJ Nobody and Kenny Segal), who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​! is a close knit collection of Los Angeles beat-scene inspired glory. The blending of jazz and soulful easy listening samples boast an impressive soundtrack behind milo’s vocals. There’s also a wonderful usage of negative space on this record instrumentally. Nothing is overwhelmingly busy or dense, but at the same time it manages to be strong enough that it could stand on its own. This album hits that rare equilibrium of the artist and the production complementing and elevating each other, rather than one stealing the show all on their own.

Regardless of if you are a fan of milo currently, who told you to think​?​?​!​!​?​!​?​!​?​! is an album worth investing some time into. He’s an excellent young artist armed with one of the most unique sounds in hip-hop currently. Between this and so the flies don’t come, it is quickly becoming apparently that he’s come into his own and realized the potential that many fans saw in his earlier releases during the Hellfyre era. If you really like the release, be sure to support the artist. milo is independent in every sense of the word, and every cent counts.

Put your money on the green horse for rap.

Tyler and Ryan of Poor English Discuss The Band and its Beginnings

by Dustin

poorenglish

You learn things really quickly while sitting down and speaking with Porland’s Poor English. First and foremost, their English is actually really good. Shocker, right? Secondly, Tyler is the talkative one. He probably could have conducted this interview single-handedly and had it finished sooner than we did.

Most importantly however, is that it became very clear that this project is a labor of love filled with extremely passionate musicians. For as much as we loved Poor English when we reviewed their debut EP, it wasn’t clear yet just how open ended and fun this band was as a whole. Fortunately, Tyler and Ryan took a little time out of their first half of 2017 (yeah, this interview took a while) to discuss the group with us.

We think you’ll come to find that they are the biggest little band you’ll ever see.


EN: How did the Poor English band come together? I know there were some other projects with band member involvement such as Sunbather, so how did this lineup end up meeting?

Tyler: Good question! A few years back, I moved to Portland from Indiana where I was involved with some other projects. One was called Cool Dad, which Joe was also a part of. That was more a college, dance, house party type band, but I digress…I was super bummed to leave that project, but more importantly my band called Mid-American. So I put an ad on Craigslist that essentially said “I want to make a band. But I don’t have a drum kit or a place to play.”

Somehow Ryan thought that was fine and decided to email me back. So we met in October of 2014 and jammed a lil bit and then just kinda stopped playing together. Fast-forward like 5 months and we decided to give it another go. We started gelling big time. So we tried out a bunch of different musicians and vocalists. None of them quite worked out. And Sunbather had just released their album Braneworld, which Ryan and I couldn’t get enough of. We thought Joe’s math-rock-esque background and unique vocal style is exactly what we were looking for. So I reached out to him and he was super onboard. Over the course of a long time we had sent him scratch tracks of the 5 songs you hear on the Ep and he would crank out some vox and guitar licks and send it back. Pretty much an instant perfect fit. That’s pretty much it.

EN: There’s a lot I could say about such a refreshing band forming out of Tyler being a music freeloader – but I wont for the sake of professionalism haha. With that in mind, was there a conscious goal to have somewhat of a pop-punk revivalist sound when you guys were starting out? I mean, you guys have such a unique blend of throwback and forward thinking that it feels like it has to have been planned.

TYLER: I’ll definitely let the other dudes chime in, but honestly, nope. I must say, I have been somewhat confused.. or maybe surprised by all the folks pegging us as pop-punk. Because to me, pop-punk is Four Year Strong, Blink 182, Bowling for Soup, and the like. Be that as it may, the people have spoken.

I think we all have a taste for technical music and atypical sounds that play well off of each member’s unique sound. In other words, I think the three of us fit like a glove. Definitely not planned, but it ended up working out very well.

I’m really interested to see how our new members’ sounds will mold any upcoming tunes we write. Joe being Georgia, we have adopted two new members to play live and are finally getting around to starting on the writing process.

Also, isn’t there a quote out there about the best artists stealing work as their own? Something like that? Yeah well, I like to steal the actual musicians.

EN: The “pop-punk” sound I’m thinking of is more of an alternative thing rather than the Bowling for Soup and Blink 182 era of commercial skate punk; I suppose that’s all semantics though. Genre definitions are stupid.

Tyler: Indeed they are!

Ryan: I definitely agree with Tyler in that the sound wasn’t planned at all. It definitely just came together based upon having similar backgrounds and taste, but also as individuals trying to find our own sound, which was luckily pleasing to the ear when it all combined into the creation of this EP.

EN: How did you guys end up releasing the EP through Darling Recordings? I actually found your tunes through being a member of the Sweetheart Record Club that Nick does for the label.

Tyler: Oh hell yeah. His record club is awesome. I didn’t realize that’s how you first heard us.

I am actually originally from Indiana. Nick and I met when we were in college. We didn’t attend the same school, but we had a lot of mutual friends. Drew (Goodmorning Players) and Ben (FLANCH) were both in Cool Dad as well. And they’re both good friends of Nick. So that’s how we got hooked up. I was really digging what Darling was doing at the time. We had chatted while Ryan and I were first writing and I would just bounce early demos off of him. And it just seemed to moved forward pretty organically from there.

EN: I actually bought the record club subscription because I already owned the FLANCH and Hales Corner projects, and then I heard a song off Poor English and thought the album art was cool. So really, you guys having good taste in art suckered me into the club. It was a good decision.

I’m assuming the working relationship between you guys and Darling is pretty solid then, given your history with Nick and company?

Tyler: Oh yeah absolutely. It’s been smooth because he is willing to be as hands-on or as hands-off as the artists want him to be. Oh, and thanks for the kind words man!

EN: No worries! I’m very much a fan of the band, it’s awesome to have been there from the first release. Speaking of which, were you guys surprised at how Everlaster caught on? I saw it getting TV spots, it also has a ton of streams on Spotify. That cut is such a breath of fresh air that even from the sidelines, seeing it blow up was amazing.

Tyler: Ha, yes! It was wild. It seemed like we were watching it all happen from the sidelines as well. So much stuff was happening around us (and it) for a while there, without us even really doing anything. [We’re] so thankful that it ended up on Fresh Finds. That was huge. And as far as the TV spot? No idea how that happened. The dude who runs social media for the Trailblazers somehow found it and just decided he was going to use it as the “local music spotlight”. I don’t watch basketball, so I’m not sure how that works, but I assume they have a local music spotlight every so often. Should we have gotten paid for that? Nick? Wanna help us out here? [Laughs]

EN: Does seeing one of your songs catch like that make you feel pressure on yourselves to make something that clicks with listeners in the same type of way?

Tyler: Eh, I would say initially it does. But really in the long-run it doesn’t. It would be cool if our tunes did click with folks in that way, but that’s not why we wrote this music in the first. So I try not to let myself get into that headspace, because that can be dangerous. Plus, if you really think about it, it is still a very small thing in the grand scheme of things.

Ryan: Yeah, I don’t really worry about it at all. It’s cool that it did catch on a little bit, but writing for someone else’s wants or needs never carries as much weight as writing for yourself. I think people will connect more with the music your write if you approach writing this way.

EN: The vibe I’m picking up, and always have, from you guys with those sort of responses is that the artistry is more important than anything else when approaching your music. With that in mind, how important do you think it is to routinely push the boundaries of the Poor English sound going forward?

Tyler: I’d say it’s huge. Speaking for myself – and bare with me here, really not trying to sound pretentious – I have found recently that I don’t really fall in love with an artist or a record unless they’re pushing themselves, and creating sounds that I haven’t really ever heard before. I find that my Spotify library has become extremely diverse for this reason. So as far as writing goes, I am always looking to create new sounds and rhythms. Atypical sounds and the like. A big inspiration for me here is Chris Hainey from Maps & Atlases. He is the reason I am starting to build out my kit with more than just your regular drum shells and cymbals. And the 5 of us are constantly sending each other new tunes in our group chat. Finding that next piece of inspiration is huge, too.

EN: This is something that I don’t think enough artists discuss, so to expand on that, do you think it’s inevitable that your sound will evolve as your tastes in music outside your own change?

Tyler: I think it’s inevitable for sure. It’s important to note though, that there is a huge difference between inspiration and influence. A lot of greener bands or musicians may end up sounding a lot like a certain band or bands, because they are pulling so heavily from said groups and you can really hear the influence. I think it’s very important to be aware of that difference as you write, as to not lean too heavily into an influence, but rather take inspiration and learn to form your own sound.

EN: Do you find that a lot of smaller bands struggle to establish their own sound?

Tyler: I think newer bands often struggle, maybe not smaller bands as we are super small. But yeah, it all comes back to being able to distinguish between influence and inspiration, in my honest opinion. Also not focusing too much on what they think they should sound like, and focusing more on whatever the hell comes out of your own mind.

And by newer bands, I mean a band made of up of musicians who don’t have tons of experience playing and writing. I was in a band once when I was young and we sounded like a straight up blend of 3 of my favorite bands. You could pick out which songs were influenced by which band. No bueno.

EN: Since you guys have added a couple of others for live shows and such, I have to ask, will they be actively involved in the writing and recording process going forward?

Tyler: That’s actually a discussion that’s been ongoing for some time now. The way we’re working on this one is that Ryan and I are writing songs and if anyone has ideas they want to try out or throw into the song, then by all means. So for example, we’re working on a song right now – working title is Bonfire – and have it up on Google Drive that we, Darling, Joe, and the other dudes who play live with us, have access to. So if anyone wants to grab it and write a part for it then we want them to do so. Joe has taken a liking to this tune and immediately started writing for it. Matt and Michael are certainly welcome to add to it. But if they don’t want to or aren’t inspired, then no sweat. I don’t know if that makes sense.

We’re sort of just making it an open process to whoever feels inspired. Obviously Ryan and I are writing on every tune though.

EN: Would you say that you’re aiming for a sort of…Broken Social Scene approach? Where anyone contribute if they feel like it, but that you and Ryan will almost always be the core band members involved in every song?

Tyler: It seems to be that that is how it has worked out. Not necessarily intentionally, but yeah it’s looking to be that way. Kinda cool.

EN: What’s the experience like, playing proper gigs for the first time? I know a lot of young musicians who, going into their first performances, had near anxious breakdowns.

Ryan: I don’t feel that we get very nervous playing shows as we all have experience playing live. Most of our shows are very intimate and we’re playing for people we know for the most part, so there’s really nothing for us to be nervous about. Playing our songs off the EP live has let me see how people physically react to the music, whether or not they’re dancing, just spectating, etc. Those experiences, I feel, are in some way shaping the new music we’re working on (at least it’s affecting me and my contributions) as we hope to take our live performances and energy to a whole new level.

Tyler: I agree. It’s been fun to gauge reactions and talk to folks afterwards. And having been playing the same set for so long makes it that much more comfortable, but it also motivates me to push our sound even further so we can create the best experience possible for our fans.

Also, I’ve been playing shows since 8th grade so I’m past the nerves for the most part. The first few times I had to sing some shit on stage with Poor English was a little nerve racking because that’s a new thing for me, but I love doing it now.