The EP gets its name from a line in a song about how when the music you’re making comes from your soul, you’re “future proof.” But creatively, using the pieces of his life as raw material for the music presented a riddle: “Taking a concept that may have taken hours and hours or days or years, how can you put that in this two-and-a-half-minute song?” Evolving from primarily working with samples to writing original music on pianos and guitars has provided a set of tools to help with the process. It also speaks to his vision for the future: “I always saw myself as being multifaceted, and it wasn’t enough for me to just know and find dope samples. I wanted to be sample-able. I want people to listen to my stuff one day and send me an email, asking me to approve using a sample.”
He rattled off a partial list of artists he considers to be major influences (Herbie Hancock, Quincy Jones, and Miles Davis), and while none of them are closely associated with hip-hop, there is a common thread in that they all revolutionized their respective genres. “Sometimes music is not about how much you want it, it’s about making the right decisions and always doing what you want,” he said. “It’s your own individual understanding of what it means to be successful.”
Image via J.O. Applegate
When I asked him whether he feels pressured to lean into some of the common hip-hop tropes, like chasing women or bragging about luxury goods, he was quick to give me a firm no, before recounting sitting in on a writing camp with other big names in the genre. “There was so much of the same shit, how can my shit be good? How could you think mine is good when people like the same thing over and over again?” he asked. “It made me feel, for a split second, Like do I just… no. I’m not going to do that, dude. Because the albums that inspired me are eclectic as hell, man. That shit didn’t fit in. And we’re still here talking about them.”
There is an underlying faith in the way he stays true to himself. “I have instances and thoughts of giving up or changing, but you have to remind yourself that who you are is probably why you’re still kicking around,” he said. “Once you change that, you might eliminate yourself from the music industry.”
He reveres artists that have broken out of their initial genre. “There may just be a judgment that someone has on a whole entire genre, which is silly, but people do say I don’t like this kind of music. So once you take it out of the genre that it is and put it somewhere else, it gives that opportunity for somebody to give it a second chance,” he said. “That’s what I thrive off of.”
Image via Erick the Architect
With that in mind, deliberate, nuanced shifts in composition came up a few times in our conversation. Erick loves to draw inspiration from movies, specifically how time can be distorted for effect. “In a slasher movie, they would just come up and hit you with a machete,” he said. But a director he admires, like Quentin Tarantino, would treat the scene differently. “He’d raise his hand up, before it comes down with the machete, they’d show shots of everyone’s face. That shot that would have taken two seconds is now strung out to three minutes.”
From there, you can draw a line from admiring subtleties in film directly to Erick talking about how he uses music theory while composing: “There is something special about dictating what genre a song is after the melody is established,” he explains. “Even if you don’t know music, when I play a certain chord, you know that this song is about happiness or triumph and this other song is about sadness. I think that the genre that a song lives in is determined by the drums. They actually make the song.”
Sifting through the details and figuring out how to take hold of them to build his own lane got Erick to where he is today. He knows who he is and remains true to himself. And that’s true of his pursuits outside of music too.
Before the end of our call, he mentions one other pandemic lockdown hobby that he picked up: scouring the internet to buy the things he missed out on when he was younger. “All the things that I wanted to have as a kid that I could never afford, whether it’s toys or video games, I tried to go back and tap into my imagination when I first started to fall in love with these things,” Erick says. Because sometimes following your own path means glancing back, and stopping to play for a bit before you move forward once again.
What’s the atmosphere like on the east coast?
I built a little system for myself in Cali, as far as friends. Strictly no industry types. I feel like in New York, I don’t have that just yet. So it’s really just all working, but that’s cool. I still do want to develop that same little system here. It’s just way better to have people you can bounce stuff off. So to try and get that, that’s what I’ve been on.
Your material has been out for a couple years now. Where’s your favorite place you’ve heard a reggie song so far?
Lowkey, probably in Bel Air. I really liked how they used that. That’s my favorite so far because they really chopped the song up, they didn’t just play a song. I also caught “AIN’T GON STOP ME” on a Subway ad on Instagram. And it seemed so fake. I followed the page. It was really on Subway. We still talking to them about that, but that’s probably the weirdest. Like what?! That was random as hell.
Also on socials, Kenny Beats replied to that whole next-superstar-in-rap thread with your name. Would you consider yourself a budding superstar?
I’m just chillin’, man. It’s cool that he thinks that, but y’all ain’t even heard no music yet for me to even be able to say that.
You posted a picture to Twitter of some real superstars on 36 different issues of Jet Magazine. On the covers were the Jacksons, the ‘90s Chicago Bulls. Do you take inspiration from reading old magazines?
I’m just weird so I’ll be collecting all that shit. I remember seeing these at my parents’ crib when I was a kid. So I got all excited. I got hella records, I still collect CDs like crazy, any forms of music, and then I just got into magazines right now. I’ve been collecting weird, weird stuff but if anything, I’m just taking inspiration from music. I’ll be real honest with you. I don’t even be reading them. They look good. But I saw them on eBay for cheap. I never sat down and read them.
What’s the rarest record in your collection?
I got an original Stevie Wonder record. I got a lot. It’s not really hard to find, it just takes time. But the Stevie Wonder one, I got the original pamphlet and they just don’t be making pamphlets [any more], so that means a lot to me.
Whenever I do a project, I’ll for sure try to bring back the pamphlet and really try to bring it back in a different format, other than just DSPs. I made this “Southside Fade” journal. It just felt real crazy to hold something tangible in my hand, and not just be listening to it. So I feel like if I make something music-wise, people want to be able to hold and be able to see.
You’re big on older music obviously. Quincy Jones, Smokey Robinson. You mention Stevie. A lot of old-school soul and gospel, too. How important is it to make those influences come through in all that you do?
I’m not going to lie. If anything, it’s important for me to not be cool on a track. On my songs, I wear my heart on my sleeve. It’s not a lot of people doing that right now. If anything, I’ll take that because I feel like back in the day, n***as was putting real feelings into this shit. That’s why people used to really feel it.
It’d be dangerous to drive to some music because you fuck around and get to closing your eyes, the song is so good. They ain’t doing that with some of today’s music, which I still love. That’s what I took from the old music, not being too cool. Putting your guard down. And I don’t do that in real life, so it’s way easier to do that in the music, which kind of throws people off.
I heard you’ve started singing lessons?
I’ve had some people teach me how to warm up but man, [lessons] ain’t never really excited me. But now that I’m really about to start putting music out, stop being weird, and do shows, I gotta really tighten up and go crazy with the vocals. One thing I ain’t going to do is embarrass myself. If I hit a bad note, I’ll walk off stage. I know myself, so I’m about to go crazy so that shit don’t happen.
Is there a specific moment you can point to, where you just decided to put more trust in yourself and your music taste, when creating?
I would say right now. This moment is the most confident I’ve ever been in dropping music I like. In the real world, I don’t rap. I don’t rap no more. If I turn on the beat, first thing I’m going to do is probably sing. N***s be like, ‘Damn this is a rapping beat.’ No, I’m gonna sing. I’m at the point where I’m about to drop this shit and it’s different. It ain’t “Southside Fade,” for sure not “AIN’T GON STOP ME.” It ain’t nothing else. It’s just me.
You’ve said in the past that Houston made you but the energy in California saved you. What’s the biggest lesson you learned growing up in Houston?
You just have to really go hard for yourself. You can’t wait around for no opportunity because they don’t come around that often. The biggest lesson I learned in Houston is to be ready. Because when your time comes, your time is gon’ come. If you are not ready, time is going to keep moving.
What is it about Houston that inspires the way it does?
It’s really just the way I move. I stand on my business, regardless of what’s going on. When I’m in these rooms, in LA, in New York, I definitely bring that business side about me. Houston definitely taught me that for sure. When I was in LA, I was just trying my best to be as free as I possibly could be. I find that that’s what LA taught me. That’s why I said that it saved me because it really taught me to be free. But mix that with that business side…
And you’ve been executive producing for Maxo Kream, too. How fun is it to work behind the scenes and get that type of experience?
I love it. Not gonna lie. I put out music and then kind of chilled. I was working with my manager just writing songs, writing songs, writing songs. To be honest, I strictly wanted to be a writer. It took me damn near a little over 10 years to drop a song. I was cooking that whole time, nonstop. But behind the scenes is really where I feel like I thrive. I’m about to play this in-front-of-the-sceen role until I can comfortably stay behind the scenes. Because that’s what I really, really, really like to do and want to do: Produce and write for people.
Who do you look to as the producers or writers who’ve guided you to where you are today or inspired you?
I always say James Brown, just because he was the most sampled. I want to be sampled like that. As far as writing goes: Prince. I got a whole bunch of weird writing people that I look up to. James Fauntleroy, that’s a current one. He’s really on some other shit.
I know you’ve got some directing under your belt, too. I watched the “TRAFFIC” video.
The day before, I shot a whole-nother video for “TRAFFIC.” At a parking lot, I had slabs, it was people out. But then I went to sleep, everybody went to the club, I went to bed. I was thinking, “Damn that video sucked.” We woke up in the morning and the dude who operates the camera had a flight. His girlfriend, it was about to be her first time being in America, they both from Russia. He had a flight at 4 pm, so we shot the whole “TRAFFIC” video that day.
Do you find yourself redoing projects like that often?
Hell yeah. “Southside Fade,” we redid that. As far as editing goes, when I get into the editing room, I get really crazy. Like, we figure out what the video is in the room right there, so it always changes. But I’m focusing on the music, and that’s it right now. I’ve been very hands on, and that’s all I can do, I’m not signed, none of that. I’m so hands on, I can’t help it. So I’m still gonna have to be in that room, we gonna grind that shit out together. But I’d rather work off of somebody else who is really in that world, and I only do music.
What’s been the biggest boundary you feel you’ve broken in the last two years?
[Thinking that you have] to really sign to a label in order to function and move through the industry. The labels have radio, booking, all that. There’s some good business models out there right now. But I for sure really want to get it to where people are valuing the artist again like how they do any other artform. I don’t know what it is with music, but people just be getting [played].
I want to be in a bigger system than just me where I can plug in and work with a label, but on some real-deal partnership shit. At the same time man, fuck all that. If I can plug into every avenue that they plug into, then that’s not the dream anymore. The dream is to just keep going. I have no boundaries with this shit, I can’t lie to you. I just be expressing myself and taking life as it goes. Making sure I’m a good steward of what God has blessed me with. That’s why I stand on business. You ain’t about to play with me, it ain’t really my talent to play with. I ain’t create this.
So what’s your vision for this project?
I’m about to be 100% honest. Even with genres, I’m about to really express myself and not just what I think will necessarily work.
Does this project feel like a lifetime in the making?
For sure. Because this is the hardest one for me to even put out. The ones that come after this? Done, ready to go. Throw some interludes and transitions on them, all the songs are there. But this one, I’ve scrapped it, I’ve redone this project at least 20 times. But I feel very confident in what the hell I have now. It’s looking like it’s going to be two-sided. I can’t even hold back no music no more. I gotta get out a certain amount of songs. After I drop, I’m gonna drop again.
Do you think it’ll take some time for fans to catch on?
There is one song on each side, that I ain’t never seen somebody not lose they mind like that. I feel like that shit is so crazy, that the tape will get accepted. People will start to understand. I ain’t never heard nothing like it, whereas “Southside Fade,” that’s D’Angelo. “I Don’t Wanna Feel No More,” any sad kid. “AIN’T GON STOP ME,” Chance the Rapper, whoever the fuck. These songs, it’s not a lot of people you can compare to this. It’s one accesible song on each side, and the rest is like, ‘Oh what the fuck?’
In years to come, people will [start to get it]. I don’t feel like it’s very digestible for the first time and I don’t give a fuck. That’s what it is. But I’m tired of being scared. I’m going to be the guinea pig, I’m going to see if that shit works, being straight yourself. Or I’m going to see if you really gotta plan and be calculated.
What do you hope this upcoming output says about you as an artist?
I’m human. Every single song, it’s not on-the-head. Like “I Don’t Wanna Feel No More” is on-the-head, like ‘This guy is depressed.’ The ones I’m about to come out with, they feel way better. I just want people to know they’re not alone. I just want people to feel me on the writing side. I don’t care if this doesn’t get the world’s recognition. Hopefully it does, hopefully I can tour off this, hopefully I can do all that stuff. I really just wanna be free as hell and I want people to feel that. Either way, it’s gonna pay off, because you free and that’s just what you have to give.
2Pac and The Notorious B.I.G. spit a legendary freestyle together at a 1993 Madison Square Garden concert.
Years before they succumbed to the infamous East Coast/West Coast rivalry, Tupac Shakur was often heard playing The Notorious B.I.G.’s early single “Party and Bullshit” on the set of Poetic Justice. Now both etched into pop culture, the fallen rappers not only shared a mutual respect for each other, but also surprisingly shared the MSG stage with R&B veteran Patti LaBelle and Fat Joe.
Big Daddy Kane cohort DJ Mister Cee reminisced about the historic night with MTV. “It was a concert me and Kane did back in 1993 at Madison Square Garden,” he stated. “We were the only rap group on the show. I think Patti LaBelle was on the show, Tony! Toni! Toné!.
Hyping up the crowd over thundering bass, Biggie Smalls delivered his classic “Where Brooklyn at?” freestyle before Pac followed with an equally razor-sharp verse. “[The freestyle] just came about backstage. ‘Pac, Big, the Rugged Child Shyheim. We just brought all of them onstage, and the magic happened,” Cee continued.
In an interview with HipHopDX, the DJ also revealed that he made it a priority to capture the momentous occasion on a 120-minute cassette, though it did take some coaxing. “I always had a habit of recording me and Kane’s live performances, especially when I knew different rappers were gonna come on,” he said. “The sound guy, I begged and pleaded with him to let me record. He was like, ‘Nah, it’s a union thing,’ but he finally let me record.”
Mister Cee went on to divulge a list of other MCs who rocked the crowd within a brief period of time. “The funny thing about that day is that when you hear the performance, you hear Biggie, you hear 2pac, but we also brought out Fat Joe that night,” he continued. “Positive K came out. Shyheim came out—that’s when he had ‘On and On’ out. We only had 10 minutes. So we brought all those rappers out, got them on and off and was able to do our hits within a 10-minute time frame.”
The freestyle was eventually transferred to vinyl and continues to be heralded as one of the greatest nights in hip-hop history. Shyheim still fondly remembers the once-in-a-lifetime performance by the rap demigods.
“They say that’s the greatest freestyle ever. It was really just having fun. Just out there having fun, having a good time,” he stated. “We always had ciphers and rapped with each other, so it was very natural. Rest in peace to 2pac, rest in peace to Biggie.”
Photo via Richard E. Aaron / Getty
Prince performs at one of the largest deaf universities in the country during his Purple Rain tour.
Like Oscar-winning films The Sound of Metal and CODA, late legend Prince also proved the transcendent power of music. As he soared among the pop stratosphere with Purple Rain boasting nearly $70 million at the box office and a chart-topping soundtrack, the unparalleled artist made a 1984 tour stop at one of the largest deaf institutions in the country, Gallaudet University.
“It was just one quiet afternoon in November,” Hlibrok told WUSA9 via an interpreter. “All the sudden everybody started chattering and saying ‘Go! Go to the field house! There’s going to be a concert there.’ I had no idea who was performing. I just thought, ‘You know – I should go.’”
When Hlibrok arrived, he was shocked to find a large stage draped in black along with giant, towering speakers. Playing a surprise, free show for 2,500 deaf and special needs students in the D.C. area, Prince electrified the building with renditions of his less racy material including “When Doves Cry,” “Little Red Corvette,” and “1999.” Blind students delighted in the aural experience while interpreters translated his lyrics for the deaf atop podiums.
“I had a lot of fun. I felt his music,” audience member Angela Maxey, 18, told The Washington Post. “I couldn’t hear the words, but I could feel the vibrations. Deaf people really appreciate and love loud music.”
According to interpreter and attendee Joyce Doblmier, “some deaf students have dim hearing ability“ when music permeates their eardrums. “They can’t feel the notes, but they can feel the rhythms.” The crowd expressed their gratitude with “I love you” gestures in sign language and presented him with gifts before he returned to the stage for a heartfelt encore of “Purple Rain.”
“I never seen so many hardcore road [crew] guys start crying,” renowned concert promoter Darryll Brooks shared in a retrospective interview. “I think even Prince broke a tear. It was one of those moments that those kids would never forget. And Prince wrote the check for the whole thing.”
Just two days prior to the unforgettable concert, Prince was also a featured guest at a fundraising reception for nonprofit mentorship organization Big Brothers of America. “He started doing more philanthropic things. We started playing at schools or doing food drives,” his guitarist Lisa Coleman told Rolling Stone.
Before his untimely demise, His Royal Badness went on to play several other shows for special needs children including a concert for disabled L.A. students that he didn’t want covered by the press.
Image via Jason Koerner/Getty Images
Flying Lotus reveals his identity as mysterious rapper Captain Murphy while performing with Earl Sweatshirt at The Low End Theory.
Rapping behind a cartoon image and a distorted voice, Murphy dropped a 35-minute album and accompanying visual entitled Duality later that fall. Backed by quirky and kaleidoscopic NSFW imagery, the vintage piece had social media platforms abuzz. With beats crafted by first-rate producers Madlib, Flying Lotus, Just Blaze, and TNGHT, fans theorized Captain Murphy to be either Earl, Tyler, The Creator, Flying Lotus or a combination of the three.
When the enigmatic lyricist announced a show at Los Angeles’ long-running music series The Low End Theory (where Odd Future made their performance debut), anticipation ran so high that concertgoers lined up outside The Airliner earlier that day. Crammed into the small venue filled with regulars and curious newcomers, host Nocando and DJ King Henry warmed up the crowd before the mystery man of the hour appeared. Donned in a ski mask and sequined gold cape, Captain Murphy grabbed the mic and proceeded to perform Duality.
The crowd erupted when Earl Sweatshirt stepped out on to the stage to perform alongside Murphy. After a performance of “The Prisoner,” the moment of truth finally arrived. “Just between us,” Murphy said, before he revealed himself to be genre-bending producer Flying Lotus. Met with fervent cheers, FlyLo basked in glory before L.A. rap crew Pac Div closed out the night.
In 2013, Flying Lotus told XXL why he created the alter ego. “I just wanted to pay dues in the way that I feel rappers should. Earn that shit. That was really the only reason why I was going with the mystery thing and trying to not tell people who I was out of the gate. I wanted people to take me seriously,” he explained.
“None of this is planned, man. I’m still kind of freaked out,” he said. “Then my buddy at Adult Swim heard the track. And this guy is one of my good friends. He really supported a lot of it. He was like, ‘You gotta put it out.’ So I put it out and at the same time I leaked this ‘Mighty Morphin’ Foreskin’ song.”
Years later, Flying Lotus shared that his work helped formulate Kendrick Lamar’s revolutionary To Pimp a Butterfly LP during an encounter on The Yeezus Tour. “I played him a folder of beats that I was keeping close for my next Captain Murphy project. Gave him all the beats …Later that night he told me he had the concept for the album,” he wrote on Twitter.
