I just want to congratulate you The Last Days of Oakland; I think it’s phenomenal. Thank you very much.

I know your story, but in your own words, would you be able to share it for the readers who might now know who you are? Well, I was born in New England to a pretty big family of fourteen children. My parents moved us to Oakland when I was about twelve years old, and I hit the streets of Oakland and never really came back home. It was such a hotbed of culture and temptation and music and art, and I decided I didn’t want to come back home.

And then I became an artist myself, scored a huge record deal with Interscope Records, one of the biggest ever. Getting signed to Interscope really was the end creatively. I was in an environment that I didn’t know how to function under, in a corporate world.

About four years into it, I was involved in a car accident. I was in a coma for three weeks, and it destroyed my playing hand, my right hand. Upon that happening, I was finally released from my contract under Interscope and began the second phase of my life as a musician.

I became involved in music lessons, and getting my music into film. That was a way to make a living, and it was liberating that I could really create incarnations that could make a living.

I pretty much resigned from the idea of making music after about eight years. I moved back to Oakland in California, decided to become a farmer, grew a lot of weed… And other stuff, but mostly weed. I wanted to live the whole spectrum of being a human being. I wanted to see what it’s like to have a child, to try to create a family. And having a child returned me back to music.

For a few years, it was a slow walk back and it became my third life as a musician — Fantastic Negrito. And I decided to just keep playing in clubs and talking to labels. And a few years later, here I am. I’m in Baltimore — it’s pretty exciting.

I hope that sums it up in five minutes.

Yeah, that’s amazing, thanks. Back to your new record: The Last Days of Oakland is so great. I had trouble even describing it. To me, it’s genre-defying and a really eclectic brew of sounds. Can you share what inspired that? I think, really, what inspired it, is that I try to be truthful and not perform. I think that I was torn. I noticed there was a shift that was happening in every major city that I would go to. It seemed like the same thing was happening over and over again. The cities were unaffordable, black populations are leaving… It seemed that even people that grew up there, and the cities were their hometowns, now they’re facing the fact that, “Hey, this may be our hometown, but we can’t afford to live here.”

This is me focused — you don’t want to see me get eclectic!

And it felt like there was a huge disproportion, financially, between classes of people. It seemed bizarre. It seemed very acceptable to young people that worked multiple jobs just to pay the rent. I don’t think it’s very sustainable. I think that some of these cities had amazing things come out of them because of their accessibility for all people. And you had artists being able to live in the cities, and they were just shared, you know?

And I came up with The Last Days of Oakland because I grew up there, where this exact thing happened. It just made me delve into that as a songwriter, and that’s where I came up with the concept. It’s the last days of Oakland because it’s the last days of London, and Baltimore, and all these cities.

I think we’re witnessing a shift.

Do you think there’s a solution to that? Do you want people to take away from your record that there’s a solution to the problem? I think that, when you’re under attack, that you have to come together. And the way that I made The Last Days of Oakland was through a collective. I know that sounds like a real simple answer, but it’s actually good because you’re not taking all the risks, you’re not making all the decisions. Even the space that you’re creating music in, everyone is contributing — financially, creatively. It’s getting out of the “me” game. I used to be pretty big in it. I’m pretty self-absorbed too.

I’m a guy from the hip hop generation who just happens to be into black roots and blues.

It’s good to just give up control a little bit, and lean on other people, and let people lean on you. I feel like that’s the solution. I know it sounds really simple to people, but that’s exactly what I did and I’ve never felt better. When I went in and made the record, I even had to get past a few dudes… Even though I’m the producer, I’m writing songs like Hump Thru the Winter, or About a Bird, or Scary Woman, obviously. And I feel like you gotta get past a couple of them, in terms of sonically, where you’re going.

And it’s interesting, because I’m pretty eclectic. This is me focused — you don’t want to see me get eclectic! This is me trying to stay in this mode. I’m always picking from the garden of black roots music, and I’ve never wanted to do it the way that anybody else does it, and sound like anyone else. It was always my goal to try to sound as original as possible and take an approach that’s genuine and transparent.

That’s how I approached all the songwriting, and even the production. I was looking for space and rawness, and emptiness. You know, I’m a guy from the hip hop generation who just happens to be into black roots and blues. So I think I take that approach a little bit, but not too much. It’s a very fine line, and a multi-layered, interesting recipe, because you want to keep the general rawness of the Delta blues, which is really my biggest influence, but at the same time, you don’t want to do it the same way it’s been done before.

I think you did that really well. I get that from listening to the record. Oh, well, thanks! I tried. I had the collective to kick my ass when I didn’t stay true to it.

I wanted to ask you about your songwriting process, actually, because of your car accident, and how that damaged your playing hand. Did that change the way you play now? How does that shape the way you write? Well, I don’t think I was… I think I’m a pretty good writer, but I was never a great player. It’s funny because I could play, you know, “Oh look, I can play all those notes!” Especially on keyboard, which is really my instrument. I just started beating up on the guitar because I couldn’t walk around with a piano.

So I started playing the guitar more, and I had to adapt the way that I play, yes. But the concept of The Last Days of Oakland, and everything that I’ve tried to represent and talk about is, hey, if you’ve got bullshit, turn that into some good shit. Roll the good shit up and smoke it if you want. The point being that, yeah, that was some bullshit, and you have to adapt. In everything we do in this world, we’re going to have situations that aren’t favourable to us, and we have to learn to adapt just like the current situation with these major cities being so unaffordable to people. We’ve got to adapt. That’s how we’ll survive. I feel that way about songwriting and I feel that way about life.

That perspective — which is so evident in your music too — is that perspective all a result of the car accident? I think it’s just life. I was born, financially poor, with thirteen other siblings. From that day, I always learned to be positive about everything, and I know where I got it from. Just being the runaway, and streets, and surviving foster care. One thing led to another, and I always walked towards the light because I really had no choice.

If you’ve got bullshit, turn that into some good shit.

Well, you have a choice. But I always felt that way. The accident was just another hurdle to jump over. The record deal’s another hurdle to go over, and I’m happiest that now it’s useful to other people. And my failure is now music for the people, and I think that’s great. I’m happy to get out there every night, and lead all these enthusiastic people who are connected with the music.

I have two questions left for you. I usually ask about streaming services like Spotify, and Apple Music. I’ve been listening to your music for probably about two years — since your first EP came out as Fantastic Negrito. And I’ve listened to it on Rdio, Spotify, Apple Music, and your music kind of goes on and off those services from time to time. As an artist coming up in this streaming era, how do you feel about their business models? Ah, there’s no money in music. That’s a tough question because I haven’t made much money off downloads or streaming yet. I hear that it’s going to be amazing soon, but I didn’t get back into this to be famous or make a lot of money. I really did it for me, for the spirit, and for the health of the spirit, and for therapy — music is my therapy. I don’t know enough about streaming. There doesn’t seem to be that much money in it. The way I look at it is, this is the new model of the music business, and again, you just gotta find other ways.

But I’ve read articles that say streaming is going to bring the music business back. But I don’t know. I’m not well-versed enough. Maybe I should be.

It’s all speculation, right? Your answer is totally fair. I’ve heard people say it’s the future and I’ve heard people say it’s going to destroy them, so who knows? You know, it’s so good not to be thinking about that. In my view, I’m thinking about music. And there are ways to make money. Touring, and merch, people really support you on that. And licensing. I’ve done a lot of licensing. I did Empire, I did The Good Wife, I’ve done all these shows. Vampire Diaries. There are ways, man. There’s always a way. I don’t like thinking about how I can’t do things, so I never walk towards that. I just walk towards what can happen. Somebody try to stop me over here, and I just go to the other side. And again, maybe I need to know more about streaming, but I’ll tell you that there’s not much money at all in it.

I’d say your attitude is the healthiest out of everybody I’ve talked to. Well, good, I like that. It’s about the music man. I’ve learned so much about going out, taking my guitar, and letting people decide. When I did that, it changed my life. We debuted on Billboard at number four. You know, we’re not rocking with a record label, we’re just people who love music, and we want to make great music. We don’t care about hit records; we care about making great music. I think that’s where it’s at, and you can be really happy in that state.

Great. This is my last question for you, and then I’ll let you go. You’re on tour right now with Chris Cornell. Yeah!

What are you listening to on tour? What records do you have on rotation on the road? I got a chance to check out J Cole more. I remember hearing him in passing, and thinking, “Wow! That seems impressive.” But I finally got to really listen to him, and I really like what he’s doing.

I checked out a little bit of Chance the Rapper. Not much. I mean, I heard it passing, so I checked him out some. There’s another girl I just looked at from England. I just saw her on the Tiny Desk Concert. I didn’t catch her name, but she’s an English solo singer. We’ve been listening to some Nina Simone on the road, because how do you not listen to that?

Those are the spectrum right now. I’m rolling with the guys in the group, and they’ve got some stuff that, I don’t even know what it is, but it sounds really cool.

Well, thanks a lot for taking the time for this today, I appreciate it. And thanks for having me! Appreciate it, man.

Fantastic Negrito’s The Last Days of Oakland is available on Spotify, Apple Music, and iTunes.

The post An Interview With Fantastic Negrito appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Much of the record is surprisingly different from what we’ve heard so far from Fantastic Negrito’s EPs. The song that will likely be most familiar to you is Lost in a Crowd, which was his previous single and a song that epitomized the style he’s already become known for: working man old-school roots rock.

The rest of the album is surprising, though. Working Poor is a fantastic introduction: Fantastic Negrito has always felt like blues rock for the under-privileged, but throughout The Last Days of Oakland, he elevates himself to singing songs about the black man’s plight. Working Poor fits that description perfectly.

The style is epitomized with The N***a Song and its prelude, What Do You Do (Interlude 1). Not unlike Kendrick Lamar, Fantastic Negrito is making music that is unaware of the injustice and violence towards black men. It’s stark, striking music that is as difficult to listen to as it is easy to enjoy.

In that sense, Fantastic Negrito feels like the Kendrick of blues rock and soul. He’s a black man who’s incredibly aware of the role race plays in his life and his music. Consequently, his music feels more important, essential even — and I think it is. The Last Days of Oakland is smart, meaningful, and important.

That’s not to say that Fantastic Negrito doesn’t have fun with his music. Hump Thru the Winter and Scary Woman both feel like lively music perfect for performance, particularly with Scary Woman’s impressive piano solo. It’s a contrast to his more politically aware work, but Fantastic Negrito pulls it off.

Nothing Without You is the most clichéd R&B track on the whole record, and it appears as the last song. It feels like the closest thing to a love song on the record, and after an album that feels both politically aware and nearly violent, it doesn’t fit. It’s a beautiful, tender song, but it sticks out like a sore thumb.

Perhaps it should be telling that Fantastic Negrito can ape so many styles. I can’t decide if he’s blues rock, R&B, or soul rock. But I know that his version of In the Pines is one of the blackest songs I’ve ever heard. It feels like slave music.

On Fantastic Negrito’s website, he shares his phenomenal story about a major label deal, a near fatal car accident, and a mangled hand. But he also calls himself “a man’s truth told in the form of black roots music” and “uncut realness.” Whatever genre you want to label it as, that’s an approach I can get behind. The Last Days of Oakland is absolutely essential listening.

The post Fantastic Negrito: The Last Days of Oakland appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

2016 is going to be a great year filled with new talent. We can’t wait to see what surprises these artists will bring our way.

Cloves

Cloves is still a teenager, but she sounded so much older than that on her debut EP, released late in 2015. She has a beautiful voice, soaked in reverb and drenched in atmosphere on the EP, but she also has a keen sense of songwriting.

As a singer-songwriter, she’s nothing like Adelle or Taylor Swift (although she’s often compared to them), but fans of Lana Del Ray are going to find a lot to like. We’re hoping we get the chance to hear a debut feature-length from her sometime in 2016.

Francesco Yates

Justin Timberlake has anointed Francesco Yates the heir apparent to Timberlake’s particular brand of R&B-influenced pop music. We’d believe it. His first EP, dropped in 2015, was filled with soaring vocal work overtop of fantastic pop.

Yates is only twenty years old, so he has a lot of time to get some mentorship and hone his craft. We know he’s already signed, and the label will be hoping to cash in on that sometime soon, that might mean a feature-length sometime in 2016. We’d be first in line.

Lawrence Taylor

On the topic of heirs apparent, Lawrence Taylor feels like the first real genuine heir to old-school John Mayer we’ve had in a long time. His debut EP, Bang Bang, was a tremendous success in our books: catchy and approachable as pop, but his acoustic guitar strumming has a blues-y feel to it too.

Lawrence Taylor has everything John Mayer had going for him in his Heavier Things era: a killer falsetto, a great sense of writing, and the air of ego — even on tape, for some reason. But that confidence works.

Eryn Allen Kane

Eryn Allen Kane is a prodigy. Her powerhouse voice, lauded by genre leaders like Prince, felt unstoppable on Aviary: Act I, her biggest EP yet. She’s got a crazy amount of soul and, along with Fantastic Negrito, brings a tremendous amount of the genre’s original vibes back to the mic.

Eryn Allen Kane has all the passion and energy of her youth ahead of her, and a lot to say: her voice sounds unhinged and desperate to be free against every track she releases, making us eager to hear at least Act II of Aviary — and hopefully a full-fledged album soon.

Daniel Caesar

Daniel Caesar’s short EP, Pilgrim’s Paradise, really grabbed our attention in 2015. His record feels like a summation of everything happening in both the retro soul movement and the current R&B revival scene headlined by artists like FKA Twigs and BJ the Chicago Kid.

Pilgrim’s Paradise was a small platter that felt like a full serving. The question we have for Daniel Caesar is whether or not he can keep it up for a full album — which is what we’re hoping he’ll deliver this year.

Highs

Toronto natives Highs put out their last major EP in 2013 and have since been touring like crazy — recently with We The City. This April, their debut full-length, Dazzle Camouflage, is expected to drop on Indica Records, and we couldn’t be more excited.

Highs’ self-titled EP had a keen sense of indie rock and an aversion to cookie-cutter sounds, and we’re hoping that audacity continues with Dazzle Camouflage.

Fantastic Negrito

Fantastic Negrito sounds like he stepped out of a time capsule and joined us in 2015 to say hello. Armed with dark blues rock that sounds influenced by the greats, but with a cynicism that belies his 21st-century roots, Negrito has charmed us with two EPs so far and we can’t wait to hear a full-length record. We’re keeping an eye on him this year.

What separates Fantastic Negrito from a lot of the revival scenes happening is an awareness of his black roots. Out of all the new blues and soul players right now, and even the up-and-comers, Fantastic Negrito sounds the blackest, with an obvious respect for the greats that came before him and a desire to be the genre’s new every man. We think he can pull it off.

BJ the Chicago Kid

It’s been a long time coming for the Chicago native to release his first album on Motown, but we can’t wait to hear the results. BJ the Chicago Kid feels, much like Anderson .Paak, like one of the music industry’s worst-kept secrets: an upcoming talent just waiting to explode. In times like this, it never feels like we’re waiting for an album to come out — it always feel as if the album is ready for us, like we’re not prepared.

In short, we’re expecting BJ the Chicago Kid to surprise us.

Made of Oak

Nick Sanborn, one of half of Slyvan Esso, completely blew us away with his first EP release as Made of Oak. Penumbra was a beautiful electronic album. It wasn’t incredibly dissimilar from his work in Esso, but that’s a good thing: Sanborn is one of the few producers in electronic music who can make a synthesizer feel as organic as an acoustic instrument. It looks like Nick plans to spend the year working on a new Sylvan Esso record and touring his butt off, but we can dream about a feature-length, right?

Coleman Hell

The last we heard from Coleman Hell was when he released an EP last year that was, more or less, a collection of the singles we already knew really well. But all of it feels as if it’s gearing up to something.

Rest assured that when his debut feature-length record drops, you’ll know: Coleman’s singles last year were all high-energy dance tracks that could get stuck in your head for days. We’re excited to hear more from him.

Barcelona

The last time we heard from Barcelona, the indie rock band was experimenting with their three-part EP record called Melodrama in 2014. It feels high time for another release from them. Their experimentation with the EPs — called Love Me, Love You, and Know Love, respectively — was interesting and completely different from what came before. We want to know what direction the band will go in next.

The trio has been completely quiet since the Melodrama series dropped — we had to double-check to make sure they were still around, to be honest. None of this indicates a new record this year, but we’re keeping a close eye on them because we want it to happen.

The post Artists We’re Excited About in 2016 appeared first on Unsung Sundays.