Kid Acne has been a prominent figure on the UK art scene for almost as long as I’ve had an interest in art. On top of that, he’s been making rap records for over 20 years, including his most recent effort, Hauntology Codes, alongside blog favourite, Spectacular Diagnostics. We both live in the same city now and I’ve been fortunate enough to hang out with him a couple of times, so I thought it might be a good idea to turn one of our chats into an interview.
So in what is my most expansive interview to date, we spoke about a diverse range of topics, including the new album, his artistic origin story, his relationship with Lex Records, the perils of keeping art and music separate, and doing magic mushrooms while travelling through a hail storm in a car with Quelle Chris.
Hauntology Codes is out now via Lex.
Photos by Rob Searle.
So, let’s start with the new album, how’s it been going since the release?
It’s been going good, you know. I’m really happy to be back on Lex, because I’d said to Tom Brown, who runs the label, that I felt that it was my spiritual home. I was offered a deal with them when they first started, back in 2002. At one point he wanted to put out Council Pop, which was my second album. When I was halfway through that project, they put out their Lexoleum series, which had Edan, Peaches, Boom Bip – tons of people on. He told me he was starting the label and that he would love to get me on board, but I was halfway through this album for my own label that I’d just started as well. So in my mind I was like, I’ll do this album and you can have the next one, thinking that would only be a year later [laughs], but it was not the case. So, it’s been a long time coming. I’ve made three albums for Lex over the years, but I feel like it’s almost third time’s a charm. I’ve learned a lot from the process.
I did one in 2007, that got upstreamed through EMI and I really wasn’t happy with the end result. That was more about me second guessing what I thought I was supposed to do and being quite overwhelmed with the music industry.
No one was really telling me to do anything specific, but I was just really burnt out at the time and there was a long process that led to it. I was having to rebuild the album due to sampling issues and the guys who made the beats kinda lost interest, which meant working with a second producer, so it was really just an uphill struggle. And then when I started working with Spectacular Diagnostics on the Have A Word album – maybe 10 years later – that was just a walk in the park in comparison. But it was just before lockdown and so then lots of things changed. I made an album in between that went out on Lewis Recordings, then came back to this one. I really just studied how to structure an album from start to finish. Looked at what the highlights were from the last two that I made with Rob (Spec Diagnostics) and how we could refine that without it being too much of a departure. Making it more densely packed, but making that journey from the start to the end as enjoyable as possible, without it getting too bloated. We had always said we wanted to make a 10 track album and this time we were adamant we were going to do it. So anything that wasn’t needed, we didn’t put it on. That meant losing good material, but there are three or four songs that I feel are anchor points that define the album, then the other half dozen tracks have all got different roles. I really thought about the guests and what they contributed to the project.
What’s been good with this one is that it’s gone really well in the sense that my peers are getting in touch with me to say that they’ve listened to it and they like it. You don’t normally get that salute from hip hop heads, especially when I’m doing it so sporadically. I’m not full-time in the music world, because I’m doing my art as well. So each time I put out a release, I have to remind everyone that this is also something that I do. This time round it felt like people were gravitating towards it more, so for me it’s a success.
Yeah, I was going to say that obviously everyone wants to recoup their costs and at least break even, but would you say this is more of a measure of success for you?
100%. And what’s been good working with Tom – because I’ve known him for over 20 years – is that this time I felt like maybe I’m just doing a vanity project because I need to make a strong album, but he said it was more than that, I’ve made a good album. And because he’s got other successful artists on the roster, I didn’t need to worry about what it does in terms of numbers or financially.
I think that was my problem back in 2007. I paralysed myself by thinking oh it’s got to be this, it’s got to be that, and really that’s what led me to do that Mongrels project. That was a lot of the stuff that didn’t see the light of day on the Kid Acne album and it ended up coming out on the Mongrels album, but I just wish I’d had the self-confidence to make the music I wanted to make back then.
Prior to that I was making quite gritty, experimental stuff, which is what got me the label interest in the first place and then I almost went back on myself; I was not really happy with the music I was making at that time. Then I stopped making music for a number of years, so this almost feels like season two [laughs]. Like a Kid Acne reset. It’s the third album with the same producer, so we’ve nurtured a relationship and Tom’s given it his blessing, so in that sense I’ve finally been able to make the things that I want to make.
Well that’s going to make everything more enjoyable for you too, because you don’t want to take the enjoyment out of the craft itself, otherwise what have you got? You’re just working.
Yeah, that’s it – working under duress. And also when you do make music – or make anything creatively – that isn’t genuine, I think people see through it. I have done that and when it doesn’t land right, it’s even more disappointing. You know you didn’t make what you really wanted to make and you know that other people are seeing that too. So this time round the success is that I got it over the line and anything else is a bonus.
You mentioned Warp briefly there and I actually wanted to talk more about Sheffield’s music history. It seems like compared to the 90’s and 00’s, it’s less successful than perhaps it used to be. You’ve been here throughout so I was wondering what your thoughts are?
I think there is good stuff happening here, but it is hard to compete with that era of warp. When I moved to Sheffield in the late-90’s and I was going to art college, Warp wasn’t really on my radar because I was listening more to hip hop back then. But I’d say 90% of the other art students were there because of Warp. It was either Warp or rock climbing, that’s what seemed to bring people to Sheffield. Then I discovered them myself and I got to do some artwork for Plaid when I was in my second year at uni. I lived on the same street as Authecre, they used to photograph my graffiti pieces in the ball court. Squarepusher lived down the road, you’d see him DJ sometimes… All the staff at the label were great. They introduced me to The Designers Republic, who were like a dream team at the time – they were doing a lot of artwork for Warp. And then there was a big club night called NY Sushi, so some of the artists were playing there and at other club nights… so there was a vibe to it. But I try not to look back too much with rose-tinted glasses.
Labels like Bad Taste were a big deal here as well, with all the people they brought forward. But then there seemed to be waves of people migrating down to London. Sheffield is an incredible city, but it is like having your comfy slippers on and it is a place that you will outgrow if you have certain aspirations, because it hasn’t got everything to offer you.
My reasoning for being here over the years is because I spent so much time back-and-forth to London, I spent a lot of time in New York, I spent a lot of time in Paris; it’s just nice to have that home base. And my rent was so cheap for years that it was hard for me to justify moving. I did try it briefly, but then moving to London and taking on a part-job to pay the extra bills was not something I wanted to do. So you’re right, there are sort of generational waves of music here. But coming from Leicester, that was a big place in the rave days. They had some big DJs in the early era of jungle and drum & bass, but I don’t really know what’s happening there now. I guess it really depends on what your reference point for success is, but there have been individuals here that have been so consistent over the years, they’ve maintained a quality of sound and output. I’m thinking of people like Dean Honer and his various incarnations – I Monster, All Seeing I, The Eccentronic Research Council. Then there’s Ross Orton, who I’ve worked with over the years. Also, Parrot aka Crooked Man, putting stuff out on DFA. So there is a lot of talent here. Like, I went to a night that Morriarchi put on recently and there were half a dozen artists from Sheffield who I’d never heard of and they were all amazing!
Yeah I think we might have spoken about it before, where maybe there’s more a lack of events rather than a lack of artists. I mean I’m relatively new to the city and I’ve not really had the chance to experience much because of the baby, but if these artists are here why is there not more of an opportunity for them to perform?
Sheffield is a weird one because it’s the same in the art scene. There are a higher than average number of studio spaces here, but there are no contemporary galleries. There are a couple of places, but as gatekeepers they’ve got their in-house style of what they want to curate. There is not an outlet for the amount of art that is produced here. So there are a huge amount of successful artists and designers here, but their output is going to London or it’s going abroad. And I think it’s the same with the music here. There’s tons of stuff under the radar, which is also what’s partly cool about it because there’s not a lot of peacocking and shouting for attention. People are just quietly getting on with it and being massively successful. Like Self Esteem for example, who blew up in the last few years. I remember seeing her play at a really small gig a couple of years before all of that happened and you could see the seeds of it then. It was amazing.
So there’s this mentality of just getting on with it, but it is a shame that there aren’t more venues – whether that’s with art or music. Because I think that would also give people more reason to stay here. As I said, over the years I’ve seen tons and tons of people move to London because the things they wanted to do here, they can’t because there is no outlet for it.
So what do you think is stopping someone from opening a venue or a gallery? I mean I suppose there’s a lot more work involved with a venue, but a gallery might be easier.
Me and my ex opened a gallery for a few years and it was successful, but it was a full-time job and it took me away from my own work. Then a couple of things happened and I didn’t want to do it anymore. But it was amazing to see how easy it was. We just had to paint the walls white, hang the art and invite people, then we sold the work. It was like, why is no one else doing this? But you’ve got to be committed to it. And it was the same with the record label. Me and my old housemate lived in a flat on London Road where the spare room was our recording studio and stock room, with piles of records. We made a success of it for a number of years but none of us wanted to be a label manager, so we just let it disband. So you’ve got to be in these things for the long-haul.
Sheffield is a fiercely independent place – I think not too dissimilar to Bristol in a lot of ways. So any independents I see pop up, they’re always supported, but I don’t know what it is with the venue thing… I’m going to gigs in Nottingham, Leeds, Manchester, because those artists aren’t playing in Sheffield. So there’s obviously something missing here, whether it’s the venues or the promoters. Or maybe just the nightlife in general.
I think you could go really deep into why the layout of the town centre isn’t working. There’s definitely a sense of 9-5ers just coming home, having their tea and then watching telly. In other cities I’ve seen a lot more people going out after work and staying out. So there’s a whole infrastructure that has to be there to nurture that culture and then that leads into gigs and venues etc. There’s a different pace of life here but that’s also what I like about it.
This is all sounding like it’s not a very aspirational place to be [laughs]. But having that time to do things at your own pace creatively, there’s a reward and a benefit to that as well. And also it is quite nice to go under the radar here, to just have a normal life while putting your work out elsewhere. I think that appeals to a lot of artists. So Sheffield is a funny one but I just try not to get too caught up in it and also not to defend it too much either, because I’m aware there is stuff missing. Which is why over the years I’ve always travelled and had lifelines elsewhere. But then also, why is everything so London-centric in this country? It’s a small country, so I don’t understand it. Then it gets to a governmental level of why is money not being sent up north more? Or how much do the powers-at-be value culture? I don’t know what the answer is.
Yeah I don’t want any of this to sound like we’re slagging off Sheffield, that’s not what I was going for.
Yeah, I’m wary of picking faults in my hometown when I speak in interviews. But I think anyone who lives here knows that those faults are there.
It’s okay to be honest about it, I think it’s good to be honest about it. So, in terms of your own creativity, where was that spawned from? Was there much of an influence in your family?
My dad’s side of the family are definitely all creative. He made that chess set there out of nuts and bolts [laughs]. His brother is a graphic designer. He lives in London and so each summer my dad would take me and my brother down to visit. It was like a cheap holiday – you get to see the sights and do cultural stuff. I remember going to my uncle’s design studio in the 80’s and thinking it was really cool, which probably inspired me more than I realised at the time. My dad’s brother-in-law was an art teacher – at my school actually – my cousins are into drama and theatre, so I feel like that side of the family were all very creative. I got into drawing through my brother, I just sort of copied him.
I’ve been drawing my whole life and I remember people at primary school saying I was good at it, telling me I’m going to be a famous artist. All that pressure you get put under by teachers. But my dad basically gave me his blessing when I was quite young, by saying that he imagined that I probably wouldn’t have a normal job because it just didn’t suit me [laughs]. He could just imagine me doing my own thing and being happy, so there was no pressure from him to prove myself, and my mum has just supported me no matter what. So there was a lot of encouragement from them, even when I was doing graffiti. My dad was not that pleased about me doing illegal graffiti but at the same time, I didn’t live with him so I didn’t need to answer to him either. I could just do my own thing. My mum was very supportive because she saw the creative aspect of it, and then on her side of the family there were also musical and creative elements as well. I remember at primary school being asked if I wanted to be an artist when I was older and me saying, “I am an artist” [laughs]. Just being very adamant that I am an artist, “What do you mean when I’m older? This is what I am”.
I discovered graffiti in the early 90’s when someone brought in a copy of Subway Art into art class. I think I painted my first piece when I was 12 and then got really into it up until sort of GCSE age. There were a couple of older guys who were into it nearby, but like no one in my hometown was doing it, so it was a bit embarrassing in a way. The only people who got into it were my mates who I encouraged to come tagging with me. Then I gravitated more towards music because there were more guys in bands. And then taking acid was when I had that epiphany of why am I trying to emulate what kids did in New York, when I’m in a market town in the East Midlands? Why am I trying to do this thing in this very specific style? That allowed me to loosen up a bit and so then I was still influenced by it, but I was doing it my own way. Over the years you lose street credibility a bit for not doing it in the authentic way, but in a small market town, once you’ve done a lot of it and you’re the only person doing it, the repercussions start to come. Either close shaves with getting caught, or people know the owners of the property you painted, so it just didn’t really have the legs.
Then I got more into making zines, making records, screen printing… still painting pieces but I just kinda gave up on doing hardcore graffiti, even before I moved to Sheffield, and leaning more into the creativity I knew before I discovered hip hop and graffiti. And that style all stems back to how my brother used to draw when we were kids.
So you went back to the beginning, to what you knew best.
Yeah because there were a few years where I was just trying to do graffiti in the style of other people.
I think that’s pretty common. Like in writing when you’re trying to find your own voice at the start, or you think you’ve found it but in fact it’s influenced by the authors you read. I know when I’ve tried to experiment with short stories, it’s been obvious when I look back at it, that there was an unconscious effort to write like a particular person.
Yeah, definitely and it’s the same with lyrics. Although it’s taken me a lot longer to find my style of MCing. I was making records before I knew how to rap because I just loved the idea of it more than actually making good music [laughs].
So coming up with band names and logos, designing the sleeves, that was such a big part of the creative process that I just wanted to make records. But really I don’t know if they necessarily needed to have seen the light of day in vinyl. In other people’s eyes they probably would have been the demo years where I could have refined the process, before putting them out.
But at the same time, it’s there warts and all. It’s there when I was struggling to find my voice, or understanding how to rhyme on beat. There were bits where the accent sounded really forced, or it slipped into something that it’s not and then over time I’ve just become comfortable with being me on record.
Again, that in itself is quite common with rappers. I remember interviewing Evidence and he was telling me how he used to pitch down his vocals because essentially he didn’t like the way he sounded. And I think Kashmere had something similar, all the Strange U stuff was pretty heavily distorted. I remember speaking to him at a gig and he was telling me I might not hear him rap again because he didn’t feel confident in that regard. And that was 10+ years after I first heard him.
Yeah, Kashmere Is fascinating because he’s one of the best to do it and the fact that he agonises over these things goes to show how hard it can be. But also, I’ve grown up listening to Beastie Boys and I wanted all my vocals to sound as distorted and fucked up as that. It’s difficult because when I’m making a project, I can’t make Check Your Head, there’s just no way I can do it. So I need to stop thinking that if the vocals don’t sound like that then it’s shit. I need to accept that this is the project I’m making, in the era I’m making it, with the equipment I’ve got and the team of people I’m producing it with. But in an ideal world I’d want all my vocals to sound as distorted as that, because that’s what I grew up listening to and that’s what I gravitate towards.
So do you feel you’re now at a point where you feel okay with everything across the board?
To an extent. My thing is I just don’t want to add to mediocrity, but I feel I have done at certain points. I’ve got a number of projects I want to get out in art and music, to cancel out some of those things where I feel they’ve been a bit subpar. The reason I started making music again was because artists that I really looked up to started dying. Guru died, Rammellzee, MCA… so I really didn’t want the music I’d made to be this album I wasn’t happy with from 2007. That would just be really depressing if that was the last music I made.
So bit by bit I started making music again, and not to say I can die happy now [laughs], but it’s resonating with people more now and it’s definitely more me. That early stuff I made was authentic and it was raw, but I just kinda lost my way a little bit. And I think it’s the same with artwork. I produced stuff years ago that I stand behind and I produced stuff recently that I’m not really happy with. That whole idea that you’re only as good as the last thing you made, is not always the case; it depends what mindset you’re in. It’s all stuff I struggle with though, it doesn’t necessarily pour out. At times it does, but that’s about picking good people to collaborate with as well and I think going back to this album, the guests I chose were significant for that reason because they allow me to be me. With Cappo, Kashmere and Sonnyjim, they’re all so unique and they’re top tier MCs, so to put myself on the same track as these guys is a challenge in itself. How do I compete with their lyricism, with their voices, while still being me? And it’s a different approach for each of them, so it’s a good baptism of fire to have.
Who else is there that you would like to collaborate with?
Tons of people. The next thing I’m working on is sort of turning into an ‘And Friends’ compilation. I never wanted to be a solo rapper. I mentioned the Beastie Boys and if I could have been in my version of that growing up, I would have loved it. I love that back-and-forth with like three MCs, that would have been ideal. And in fact the early days of Mongrels was that, with three MCs, but it ended up just being me and Benjamin.
I’ve accumulated a bunch of guest tracks from making these albums with Rob, so I’m going to put out an album’s worth of material with me and a lot of different MCs on there, just as an experiment.
But in the UK there are tons of people I’d like to work with, and in America as well. A long list.
So you’re just going to try to work through it. Are they attainable?
Yeah, it’s interesting because people are more attainable than you realise. It’s not just down to having money to pay for verses. Like you need to be creative with who to work with if you don’t have much of a budget, but there are a lot of unique and dynamic voices out there.
I’ve set up a few collaborations over the years, where people from the UK have asked me to reach out to people who I know in the US, and what I’ve found is that when money is the main incentive, the end result is nowhere near as good as if the artists have a mutual respect for each other’s work.
I think it’s about nurturing relationships as well, because the idea of just picking someone who’s good at rapping and asking them to put a verse on your track, doesn’t appeal to me that much. I like to have a bit of rapport with people first.
With the Mongrels stuff, we had Sebash on there from New Kingdom and some of those songs were 10 years old before they came out on the album. But in that time I’d been to New York a lot, I met Sebash through some mutual friends and we hung out a lot. There’s a friendship that we made, so then the idea of putting him on something made sense. Rather than someone from a band you loved when you were a kid and you’d love to get a verse from them. So I was blessed enough to meet them in person and hang out. We did no music at all for years but then when we did, there was already that friendship there. Then from that, Nosaj (New Kingdom) was like “How come I’m not on this?!”, so then he was on the stuff that me and Rob started doing, which then opened the doors for him and Rob to work together. That track with Mike Ladd went back to a Scotty Hard gig that we did together, so I feel like there’s no rush with these things.
If you want to pick out whoever is hot this month and pay them a load of money to put a verse on your track, I think you can hear it can’t you? But then at the same time, doing everything on favours, sometimes you end up with someone just phoning it in. Whereas if you’ve paid them, they’re accountable so I’ve got more authority to go back and ask them to change something in their verse because it’s not landing quite right. So it depends. But it can be such a long-winded process that sometimes I just end up writing a second verse myself, rather than thinking someone else is going to make this better.
Yeah, do what’s best for the end result.
Exactly. But it’s surprising who’s more open to it. You just have to ignore certain preconceptions you might have and just take everyone on an individual basis.
I think I read in an old interview with you, that you kept your art and music separate.
Yeah, big mistake.
So what was the thinking behind that and what made you change?
I think it was a defence mechanism and I think looking back it was also some form of self-sabotage [laughs]. When I went to art college, the year before Mr Scruff had been there and so I think it might have been making a comparison with people like that. Like I didn’t want to be compared with Mr Scruff, just because he’s also drawing cute characters and making music. So there was just this sort of backwards mentality at the time.
But it was such a mistake because then what happened was I ended up making loads of record sleeves for other artists, other bands, other labels, that were a success in their own right because I put a lot of love and commitment into them. Then with my own ones it was almost like an afterthought. So I really did myself a disservice there, because now I want nothing more than to combine them.
There’s been something missing from both aspects for my whole career, because I’ve not really been putting myself forward. But also back then there wasn’t really anyone that I felt that I could point to as an artist-rapper. There wasn’t really art rap at the time, or not that I was aware of anyway. The closest I could think of was back in the 80’s with the Celluloid series, with FUTURA and The Clash, Phase 2 did a rap, Fab Five Freddy did a rap, so then I was leaning into this old skool tongue-in-cheek kinda thing. But nowadays there are so many art rappers out there and they’ve built a whole legacy.
That show I did in Denver last year, Visible Planets, was a revelation in that respect. Because of course there are people doing this shit. And even here, Juga-Naut is a great example, doing a lot of his own artwork. Jam Baxter, Onoe Caponoe… So I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to keep them separate in all honesty.
And also it’s a shame that some of my best record sleeves are for other people, rather than for myself. Even last year when I did the artwork for Kashmere’s album, I was like fuck that’s a good sleeve, why is that for another artist?! But there’s just something in me where I struggle to put myself forward in that way and when it’s for another artist, it’s just a bit easier.
I was about to say, do you hold something back when it comes to your own work?
I think so. I’m trying not to, but I think it’s just something that is deeply instilled in me. I’m not an all out for myself type of person and I wish I was at times, because there have been certain things that I’ve been on the forefront of but it’s not been documented, so now it’s not remembered.
Last year when I went to Beyond The Streets at the Saatchi Gallery, it was this huge exhibition and just seeing it all in one building, I felt like there have been times in my career where I’ve almost turned my back on the culture and I think that was a mistake as well. When I was growing up, there weren’t many people into graffiti and hip hop, so I just played it down as not being that important. But actually it’s been hugely important in my life, it changed my life. That’s how I discovered culture, that’s how I met other artists and musicians who went on to do great things and invited me to go with them. It’s how I got to travel the world. But I played it down and that’s probably why I made pretty self-deprecating hip hop for a while, because I could use it as a defence mechanism. Oh it’s not that serious, I’m just mucking about, and then you get put in the same category as Goldie Lookin’ Chain and it backfires. But with art and music, it’s not like being an athlete. You’ve got your whole life to do it and even now in my mid-40’s, there are still people older than me doing it, so there’s everything to play for.
I think that’s a good way of looking at it. Going back to Visible Planets, how did your involvement with that come about? Was it Homeboy Sandman who curated it?
He co-curated it with Dan Drossman, who’s based in Denver. So it was Dan’s idea and then he reached out to Homeboy Sandman.
Homeboy Sandman’s not on social media, but I just emailed him randomly one day to praise a video of his that I’d seen. Then he got back to me, said he’d checked out my artwork and that he was doing this project. He asked if I wanted to come and do it. It was the following summer in Denver, it was going to be artists and rappers. Then as we went forward, they said there were going to be live performances too and that they could pay for me to come over, pay for the hotel etc. So that was wicked.
But really that co-sign from Homeboy Sandman is what pushed me to finish the album. If we want a new album out by the end of the year then it’s got to be done by the summer and it means we can road test these songs in Denver. Then the artwork I painted for the exhibition informed the album sleeve. So it kinda gave me a deadline to work towards and it also made me double down on this idea of doing 10 tracks. I mean Rob’s been very patient with me, but when we’ve made an album’s worth of material that could’ve gone out a year earlier… I don’t know if it’s perfectionism, but I definitely make things hard for myself sometimes. So this time it was 10 tracks, summer’s the deadline. Get it done.
And then the experience of Denver was amazing. The exhibition was with Quelle Chris, Deca, Aesop Rock, then Blu and Homeboy Sandman performed as well. So again that was a baptism of fire, having to perform alongside all these incredible American MCs.
And in America.
In America. But it went down well, so it was just nothing but a positive experience. And then the next day we drove out to go to the Rocky Mountains.
Yeah, I saw a photo of you trekking with Quelle.
Quelle was fucking amazing, man. We probably hung out the most out of everyone, because his hotel room was across the corridor from mine. Then the next day we go on this walk and you can take mushrooms in Denver, so I thought it’d be a good idea, you know doing some mushrooms in nature. But I didn’t come up on them until on the way back in the car, in a hailstorm [laughs], while Quelle’s playing demos from his next album. It was a really intense moment, sitting in this car feeling like I was flying. With these crazy visuals, like Tron, and this big foam hand like you get at sports games, but it looked like a spaceship. Then the bass is really hitting my chest. It was an intense moment but I really enjoyed it. And yeah, Quelle is incredible. I saw him live three times last year, same with Homeboy Sandman, and they’re both so different but it’s a real experience seeing them perform. And obviously seeing Blu perform, he’s amazing. I wasn’t really up on his stuff before but I’d heard all the stuff he’s done with the Freestyle Fellowship guys and with Fatlip. Freestyle Fellowship were one of my favourite groups growing up, so Blu’s sort of connecting the dots between the different generations of the L.A. scene.
It was Below the Heavens, his album with Exile, that put me on to him and I think it’s still one of my favourites. He’s just got one of those consistent flows that makes something skilful look so effortless.
Yeah, there are some talented people out there. These kinds of guys, as inspiring as they are, it can also put you off [laughs].
Yeah, it’s intimidating.
Intimidating, absolutely. It’s like well what’s the point? But it was such a good experience. I’ve supported some great acts over the years, but you never really get to hang out. You just do a show and then you might or might not get to say hello at the end, depending on how the night runs. So to be able to hang out with everyone for a few days was wicked.
We spoke about art rap over here, is there scope for doing something similar in the UK?
I did say that to them, that they could definitely do a UK version. I don’t know how Dan wants to play it – if he wants to run it annually or bi-annually, if he wants to franchise it. But there’s so much mileage in the idea of visual artists who are also MCs, putting on an exhibition and performing live as well.
In all honesty I was asking myself why I hadn’t done it before? The amount of exhibitions I’ve done. People have asked me if I wanted to rap before, but I didn’t know if I wanted to do it at my opening. Looking back though, it wouldn’t have been a bad idea at certain points. I once did a show in Helsinki and ended up MCing at the afterparty – in a Chinese restaurant [laughs]. That was cool.
But I played Sonar Festival years ago and I used to go to Barcelona really frequently to paint, so why wasn’t that combined somehow? I was saying to Dan, the Visible Planets thing doesn’t necessarily need to be an exhibition. We could paint a stage and make it like Wild Style almost, where you’re making that the experience and the art is just the merch. So you’re going to this event that’s going to be a very immersive thing. Quelle does animation, so he could do something with that. And as he pointed out, it doesn’t have to be just rappers. There are artist-producers too.
It’s funny that you kept art and music separate for all those years, and then this was one of your best experiences.
I know! But what I would say though, is that when I was younger there was an era where I felt like I couldn’t put a foot wrong and I just got a whole wave of attention for both [art and music], I found it so overwhelming.
Also I think I just wanted to keep some of it for myself. I said before I wanted to be part of a crew, so maybe I wasn’t ready to go out on my own and tour the world painting and rapping. I was invited to do that numerous times, but I was also invited to do a lot of other shit, so I couldn’t see the wood for the trees in a lot of ways, so I just wanted to keep some of it for myself. I wanted to paint graffiti in abandoned places with my mates and maybe do some exhibitions, but I wasn’t really ready to go all in.
I don’t want to look at it too regretfully because that was then and this is now, but I do feel that there is a way for me to make it work now. And I know myself more now. I think back then I didn’t even really know my own opinion, because there were so many other opinions from labels and galleries and art agencies about what I should be doing. I just found it really overwhelming. But now I know what I want to do and I know from experience what I don’t want to do.
So with all that said, what are your plans for the future? You’ve hinted at more stuff with Rob.
Yeah, more music with Rob. I’ve just got a new studio in town, so I’m looking to get more paintings under my belt. I’d love to design more record sleeves for people. I did a couple last year, so I’ll be reaching out to artists and labels that I admire. Really just trying to marry these two worlds much much more, because I’ve realised how important they are to me. Focusing more on my self-directed art and music, and collaborating with more people whose work resonates with me. That’s ultimately what appeals to me and so anything else I’m going to try to not do it [laughs].
I’ve done so many projects over the years, just because I’ve found it hard to say no. I know I can do it and I know it’s going to be beneficial to someone else or it’ll help pay the bills, but when you stack them all up together it leaves less time for my own projects. I created so much admin for myself in the process that it’s taken me away from my career, unknowingly. So now I’m really going to try and hold my nerve and trust in the process.
gingerslim 