Nico Sarbanes

Nico Sarbanes: Live in Baltimore (self-released)

When we think of Baltimore jazz, we think of a bygone era, filled with small nightclubs, three-piece suits, and plenty of cigarette smoke. But local jazz is alive and well, thanks to a number of surviving legends, as well as the next generation of stars, like the Dunbar Alumni Jazz Band and Nico Sarbanes. Professionally trained, Sarbanes is one of the city’s most talented (and under-the-radar) performers, playing a mean trumpet and confidently crooning in a style associated with the Great American Songbook. At 23 years old, the Baltimore native has just released his debut album, a set of live recordings from the acclaimed Mount Vernon music venue, An die Musik, that features some of his hometown heroes, including saxophonists Antonio Hart and Tim Green, vibraphonist Warren Wolf, and drummer Winard Harper. Across five accomplished jazz jams and standards—like a feel-good Baltimore original dedicated to a local Union Square barber, or an up-tempo, twinkling rendition of Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn’s smoky “Ishafan”—Sarbanes connects and celebrates our city’s vibrant jazz community, and honors its rich history.

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Bond St. District

A Church On Vulcan (Friends Records)

In the summer of 2014, a young black rapper from West Baltimore met a young white percussionist from Montgomery County. In an unlikely twist of fate, the two instantly clicked, and by fall had released their first EP as the hip-hop duo Bond St. District, one of the city’s most animated, vivacious acts. MC DDm spits fire with his sharp, confident lyrics—at times clever and humorous, at others candid and poignant. Like a pastor pushing the gospel, DDm engages crowds with bona fide swagger, and his bodacious presence is only amplified by his right-hand man, producer Paul Hutson, who mixes in his masterful, multi-layered beats. Together, these distinct halves make a seamless whole, founded in a mutual respect for each other’s talent, and at live shows, their genuine chemistry is clear as soon as they hit the stage. But the strength of their bond is never more apparent than now, on their first full-length album, out exactly two years after their debut. From the rattling, energetic knocks of “Show Me Your Hands” to the lush, dreamy melodies of “How Come” and the sunny funk of “Yesterdays,” their infectious songs—and synergy—make you a forever fan.

See our full interview with DDm and Paul Hutson from Bond St. District.

It seems as if Emmanuel Williams has been working towards this album all his life. Born and raised in Baltimore, Williams, aka DDm, cut his chops on the local battle rap circuit before forming his beloved hip-hop duo, Bond St. District, honing his talented rhymes, charismatic stage presence, and bonafide swagger along the way.

Now, he’s set to release his full-length debut record, Soundtrack To A Shopping Mall—a smart rumination on the dreams he was promised as a child of the ’80s, growing up in a black working-class city, and the actual realities that emerged as he grew into a man in the post-recession era of Donald Trump. On the eve of the album’s epic release party at the Baltimore Soundstage on August 4, we spoke with Williams about social commentary, making spectacles, and spreading his wings.

Growing up in Baltimore, what was your connection to the shopping mall?
Going to the shopping mall was an event, honey. You had to dress to go to Security Square. You wore your good clothes to Westview. We hung out at the mall. The mall was like the club. I got a love for Mondawmin that is unrivaled because to me it represents ghetto fabulousness—the height of street fashion before street fashion had a name. They were selling labels. You’d see the dope boys going there and buying up those lambskin leathers.

And that’s when music was doing good because you had three record shops in one mall. It wasn’t like streaming. The Internet has made the discovery of music easier for the casual listener and it exposes artists to more potential fans, the flip side is that music doesn’t feel as special anymore. You pay your $9.99 a month and type in my name. To me, the shopping mall represents when you’d wait all week to go to Sam Goody. I remember buying Gwen Stefani’s Love Angel Music Baby and Fantasia’s Free Yourself on the same day because they both came out and I had just gotten paid.

You’ve said that this record is a celebration of the height of American capitalism, greed, and celebrity, and its ultimate deterioration.
I have a lot of political views, but I didn’t want to beat people in the head with them because I feel like that’s what everybody’s doing now. Literal isn’t fun. Literal is kind of dull. Eventually if you keep saying F Trump, F Trump, F Trump, people become numb to it. You gotta sneak in that social commentary. I can’t not have any nutritional value. I want to make a statement, but I still want people to dance. This album is not dystopian, apocalyptic kind of vibes. It’s very bright, very shiny, very brilliant. It’s cinematic. It’s hip-hop Broadway. Lin-Manuel, you need to call me, because Soundtrack To A Shopping Mall could be a play.

But when you listen to “Rude” or “Burfday Bitch” or “Try Me On,” it’s about all of the excess, because that’s what got us here, and at the same time, it’s about me coming to the understanding that that’s not necessarily the life that we’re going to get. My generation got to see the world when it was really good, and we’re starting to see it when it goes down. For that, it’s even more heartbreaking for us. We were sold a dream. We were sold a lifestyle. There’s a lot of pressure to make it. But what is making it? That’s why the album cover is a store that’s closed. It’s me looking at the past, at what was, and realizing that that’s not what it is anymore. We’re trying to hold onto whatever is left.

You’re releasing the album with a big show at Baltimore Soundstage. Why is the performance aspect so important to you?
You have to make it a spectacle. People want to feel a part of the process. The show is keeping me motivated. It’s keeping my mind dancing. There have been bumps in the road making this record, especially being self-financed. But I work like a fashion designer; once I get my inspiration, I start working on my centerpieces—my anchor pieces—and then I work outwards from there. I pull from all different types of music.

About 10 years ago, I started listening to Stereolab and discovering foreign music outside of R&B, rap, funk, and soul, and my palette is so vivid now. In “Forever 21,” I wanted to make something like Rod Stewart or Cyndi Lauper that you would hear on The Breakfast Club or any John Hughes film. “All My Life” is inspired by Duran Duran, but over a trap beat. Also, the Mary Jane Girls, the Thompson Twins Rick James, David Bowie. “Rude” and “Burfday Bitch” are definitely pulling from my Baltimore roots and Baltimore Club. “Closed” is probably the most honest song. That’s about me looking at myself as an individual, not feeling pretty or handsome, because I struggle with that—self-image—a lot.

Is it hard to balance that on-stage persona and off-stage, real-life?
It is. Right now, I’m in the season of my life where I’m struggling to figure out: is this really going to happen? Do you really have the look for this? Do you really have what it takes? I think I’m talented. I never really question my talent. I know I can perform. But being talented doesn’t always translate into being successful. The superstar of yesteryear is not a thing anymore.

That being said, at the end of the year, you’ll be moving to New York.
Baltimore was the training ground. That’s where you figure it out, and I figured it out. I’ve done Pier Six. I’ve done Rams Head. I’ve played Artscape. I’ve played the Baltimore Museum of Art. What are we going to do next, perform via satellite on the rooftop of The Walters? No—now, Emmanuel, either you’re going to die in your silo, or you’re going to elevate. I’ve been ready for the big city and those big arenas, but I’ve been scared, too. It’s gonna be tough, but I know I have to do it. The world hasn’t seen me yet. I constantly have to remind myself of that.

What do you hope listeners will take away from this album?
I hope listeners have a good time. I hope they’re entertained, I hope they feel inspired. This record is so bombastic that I want them to feel great and alive and energetic and optimistic toward the future. But it’s also a reflection. I hope it leaves them thinking, so where do we leave this? Where do we go next?

Catch DDm at Baltimore Soundstage on August 4 featuring Abdu Ali as host and guests such as TT The Artist, Kotic Couture, and his own hip-hop duo, Bond St. District.

Although Baltimore isn’t known for a professional basketball team, the city has groomed some of the best in the NBA—Mugsy Bogues, Will Barton, Reggie Lewis, and Carmelo Anthony, to name a few. Under Armour (UA) Basketball’s new YouTube series Home Court that launched on July 12 features some of Baltimore’s rising stars in basketball and focuses on the culture surrounding the sport.

“We wanted to create this series to start a conversation around the intersection between basketball and culture and how that cross-section varies between different cities,” said Justin Brown, brand manager for UA Basketball. “We chose Baltimore to launch the series not only because it’s home to UA, but also because the spirit of the city is so unique and powerful, and we are excited to spotlight it for those outside of the city.”

The first season of this inaugural series spotlights Baltimore by exploring the cultural impact that basketball, style, food, and music has on the city. The audience goes on a journey with Sarunas Jackson from HBO’s Insecure as he visits local basketball courts, goes to iconic establishments, and meets with local players.

“We looked for key players that were local or had a strong tie to the community while embodying the same tough yet charming attitude for which Baltimore is known,” said Brown. “There were so many triumphant stories of how each individual took their own experience with their resilient and resourceful nature to hustle harder than the rest and ultimately give back to the city, which was very inspiring for us to showcase.”

The first episode features local Baltimore legends Aquille Carr and Terry Hosley discussing the cross-town rivalry between East and West Baltimore ballers. The St. Frances Academy girls’ basketball team is featured, as well as NBA guard and Baltimore native Will Barton and his youth basketball squad, Team Thrill, which he founded to keep kids off the streets.

“It makes them want to do something good and it makes them feel better knowing that they are representing something other than themselves,” Barton says in the episode. “They are representing the city.”

In the episodes that follow, Jackson visits the East Baltimore hotspot Sunny’s Subs with rapper A$AP Ant from West Baltimore as they discuss the unique cuisine that is the chicken box. Jackson also meets up with Nacho Bangers owner Eric Williams in McElderry Park to talk about his love for food and giving back to the city that raised him.

“The high school kids, the athletes there, when they bring their energy to Nacho Bangers, we share our energy with them,” Williams said. “It’s to help them build. Baltimore inspired me to show you not only what we go through in our city, but how great we can be.”

In the final episode of the series, Jackson sits down with local musicians TT The Artist and Bond St. District to discuss the connections between music and sports in Baltimore.

“I think that the two worlds are so intersecting right now with hip-hop being such a big genre right now and sports being something that’s very much involved in the community,” TT said. “I think it’s just a natural intersection.”

According to UA Basketball, this series is the first of many. The ultimate goal is to show that “ball is life” for some in cities like Baltimore, and that it helps to shape the communities where the game is played.

“We wanted to explore how it specifically impacts these subcultures,” said Brown. “We know the influence of the game transcends the court.”

Five things to eat, drink, see, hear, and do with your Charm City weekend.

 EAT

Sept. 9-10: Baltimore Ukrainian Festival

St. Michael Ukrainian Catholic Church, 2401 Eastern Ave. 12-6 p.m. Free.

Baltimore is the home to one of the Mid-Atlantic’s largest Ukrainian community, and this weekend, there will be a celebration of that rich Eastern European heritage during this 42nd annual festival near Patterson Park. For two days, celebrate beneath the golden domes of the St. Michael church, with live music, folk dancing, arts and crafts, a Ukrainian beer garden, and a hefty dose of traditional cuisine, such as kielbasa, latkes, borscht soup, homemade breads, and, of course, sweet and savory pierogis. On Saturday, even watch in awe or test yourself during the much-loved, highly competitive pierogi-eating contest. 

 DRINK

Sept. 9: Mommies & Mimosas

Dovecote Cafe, 2501 Madison Ave. 12-4 p.m. $35.

When you become a new mom, it can be hard to get out and socialize, let alone find time to eat a warm meal. But this Saturday, thanks to the Mommy Up meet-up and Best of Baltimore-winner Dovecote Cafe, local mothers can gather together for a three-course brunch featuring fellow inspiring women. Over Dovecote’s home-cooked fare and a few rounds of much-needed fresh mimosas, you can network and talk about the joys and challenges of motherhood. Bring your babes or come solo, but biggest of all, sit back, relax, and soak up some you time.  

 SEE

Sept. 8-10: Little Italy Madonnari Arts Festival

Little Italy. Fri. 5-10 p.m., Sat.-Sun. 11 a.m.-10 p.m. Free.

Madonnari art is an age-old practice of street painting, still found commonly along the cobblestones of Italy and, for one weekend, alongside the byways of Baltimore’s Little Italy. This weekend, watch master Madonnari artists from around the world—and right here at home—set up shop in the heart of the Italian neighborhood, where they’ll create beautiful works of chalk art on the city streets. With a sunny forecast, things look brighter than last year’s rainy weather. Stroll the streets to listen to live music, indulge in carbs at neighborhoods enotecas, and kick things off early during a cabaret dinner on Thursday at Germano’s Piattini.

 HEAR

Sept. 8: Underground Dance Party

The Ottobar, 2549 N. Howard St. 9 p.m.-2 a.m. $6.

This month marks the 20th anniversary of Baltimore’s beloved Ottobar (see our September issue, on stands now, for more), and to ring in the two decades, the Remington rock club has brought back some of its old favorites. J. Roddy Walston recently performed a few rabblerousing sets, and later this month, Candy Machine and Roads to Space Travel will be perfomring a throwback combo, as both bands performed during the Ottobar’s first month downtown on Davis Street in September 1997. This weekend, the venue is also reviving its “Underground” dance party, featuring classic Brit-pop, indie, and new wave anthems on the ones and twos all night. Think James, Blur, Oasis, Daft Punk, Depeche Mode—with drink specials to boot. A regular favorite for the last 10 years, this former monthly ritual is sure to pack the house. We only have one request: “Age of Consent” by New Order. 

 DO

Sept. 9: Hampdenfest

The Avenue, W. 36th St. 11 a.m.-7 p.m. Free. 

There are few neighborhoods in the city more quintessentially-quirky Baltimore than that of Hampden. On Saturday, head north and celebrate the hons and Hampdenites of its eclectic avenue with an end-of-summer block party, full of fun for the whole family. As you wander 36th Street, dig into eats from local restaurants, including slices by Paulie Gee’s, shucks by The Local Oyster, scoops from The Charmery, and a pie-eating contest with Dangerously Delicious, and sip on local beer, including the special Brewer’s Art/Union Craft Hampdenfest collab, Hampden On Rye. With three stages for live music, you can catch more than 20 homegrown bands, such as Snakes, Wume, Raindeer, and the inimitable headliner, Bond St. District. Just don’t miss the annual toilet bowl races, as porcelain flies past the colorful rowhomes of Chestnut Avenue.

Five things to eat, drink, see, hear, and do with your Charm City weekend.

 EAT

June 3: Taste of 3 Cities

Patterson Park, 2806 Eastern Ave. 12-9 p.m. $15-65

If you consider yourself indecisive, prepare to be put to the test this weekend on the hills of Patterson Park. The grassy knoll will transform into a glutton’s paradise as a hoard of food trucks parks along the edge of Highlandtown. Dig into more than 40 mobile munchies hailing from Philly, D.C., and Baltimore, including hometown favorites Kommie Pig, Grr Che, Gypsy Queen, and the one-and-only Miss Twist, with beer, wine, margaritas, and crushes on tap as well. Whatever your pick and poison, set up shop at one of three stages to catch regional dance performances and, best of all, to hear live local music like headlining act Bond St. District.

 DRINK

June 2: Station North Tool Library Happy Hour

Station North Tool Library, 417 E. Oliver St. 5-8 p.m. Free.

If you’re looking to meet fellow creatives or just start your weekend with a cold beer, throw away the workweek and throw back a Union Craft this First Friday at the Station North Tool Library. The mixed-use makerspace is a community hub for everyone from amateur builders to accomplished woodworkers, with classes ranging from home repair to knife-, cutting board-, and coffee table-making. Sip a UCB can, sign up for some workshops, and scramble down the street into the warm late-spring night.

 SEE

June 2-3: Nights on the Fringe

Baltimore Theatre Project, 45 W. Preston St. 7:30 p.m. $20-35.

Charm City Fringe—best known for its 10-day fall festival celebrating untraditional, independent performance—is taking the stage early this season during its third annual Nights on the Fringe. For two nights, immerse yourself in a medley of artistic acts in the vein of vaudeville with hosts Aaron Henkin of WYPR, Umar Khan of Gin & Jokes, and Josh Kuderna of BIG Improv. On Friday, catch performances of spoken word by Baltimore’s 2015 youth poet laureate Derick Ebert, aerial stunts by In The Dark Circus Arts, and shadow puppetry by the Lantern Sister. On Saturday, stop by for hip-hop dance moves by Bmore Than Dance, slam poetry by Grim Jackson, and live music by Afro House’s Astronaut Symphony. Whether you come for one show or all, it will be an unexpected weekend to remember.

 HEAR

June 2: Natural Velvet

Ottobar, 2549 N. Howard St. 8 p.m. $10-12. 

We can’t give away how much we love the new Natural Velvet record (you’ll have to check out our July issue to find out more), but let’s just say: You don’t want to miss this local post-punk quartet. They’re one of the best young acts in town, with a fearless flair and ball-of-fire energy thanks to the wiry guitars of Kim Te and Spike Arreaga, guttural drums of Greg Hatem, and amorphous howl of captivating frontwoman Corynne Ostermann. This new album (their second with local label Friends Records) is their most fierce release to date, so see it live alongside fellow local opening acts, electronic R&B duo Blacksage, beatmaker Infinity Knives, and trance-noise group Halloween Tres. 

 DO

June 2: Good Fridays Baltimore

EMP Collective, 307 W. Baltimore St. 9 p.m. $10. 

Almost seven months ago, Baltimore arts and culture editor Gabriella Souza was on the phone with John Waters when she got an idea. The local auteur had mentioned how The Buddy Deane Show, a teen dance show that aired on WJZ in the late 1950s and early 1960s, had inspired his most mainstream film, Hairspray! Over the years, similar variety shows and dance programs, like The Shakedown, had all but disappeared. Wouldn’t it be great, mused Waters and Souza, if people could just get together today—regardless of race, class, age—and dance? With the help of PipeDreamz’s Ansar “AC” Miller-Abdullah and City Paper and Baltimore contributor Cassandra Miller, Good Fridays Baltimore was born. This Friday night, don’t miss its inaugural dance party, be it live at E.M.P. Collective in the Bromo Arts District or live-streamed on YouTube from your own home, to hear live music by rapper Al Rogers Jr., see local art by Shan Wallace, and a throwback video countdown to the main event. Best of all, be sure to get down—even abashedly in front of your computer or TV screen—during the two-hour dance party by DJ JaySwann.

Baltimore’s most dynamic duo has just dropped their first full-length album, A Church On Vulcan (out now via Friends Records), and it’s as energetic and ambitious as only Bond St. District can be. In the days surrounding the release, we talked with MC Manny Williams, aka DDm, and producer Paul Hutson about the new record, their musical upbringings, and the importance of storytelling.

Manny, you grew up in Park Heights, and Paul, you grew up near Gaithersburg. How did the two of you meet?
Manny Williams, aka DDm, rapper: We met at The Crown, summer 2014. I was DJing a party there, and he came to take some pictures and said he did beats. We exchanged numbers and then I met him down at his place on Bond Street in Fells Point.

Paul Hutson, producer: I’d seen his name around town but that night was really the first time I had ever seen him perform. Prior to that, I was really just making beats for myself. I hadn’t done any production before.

How’d you get into music?
P: I started off really, really young, just banging on things. Then my parents got me my first snare drum, then a year later, a drum set, and I just kind of taught myself how to play. It wasn’t until high school that they forced me into taking lessons, which was actually great because I started to learn different instruments. I eventually went to college at Towson with a music scholarship in percussion.

Did you know where you wanted to take it at that point?
P: I didn’t have a clear idea. I knew from an early age that I wanted to always perform and play music with other people. When I was younger, I was always trying to be involved with my older brother’s bands in any way possible. I’d played in a couple of bands myself but none of them really went anywhere.

Manny, what about you—how did you get into music?
M: We didn’t have any music programs in my school, so you just watched TV, saw who you liked, and wanted to be famous. How you were going to get famous, you had to figure that out your damn self. But I saw Lil Kim’s “No Time” video when I was about 10 and I was like ‘Ooh.’ I couldn’t sing, so I started rapping around 14. I did little blacktop battles in high school then gradually started doing local battles in the club, won a few crowns, and then I started learning how to actually record music. You learn a lot through osmosis. My mother is a real soul funk fan, so she played a lot of Earth Wind & Fire, Chaka Khan, Diana Ross, Motown when I was growing up. That’s how I learned rhythm and feeling. Just through living.

You’re known for having an epic stage presence. How did you master that?
M: Trial and error. Breath control, how to talk to your crowd, how to pace your songs, which songs should be played first, which songs should be played last—those are things you learn by actually doing shows. You also have to actually sit and study people you admire. I’ve watched a million Diana Ross performances, a million Tina Turner performances, a million Heavy D performances, a million Marvin Gaye performances, a million Biggie performances, a million Millie Jackson performances, because those are the artists who shape how I perform. It’s like being a standup comedian.

What was it like coming up in the Baltimore clubs?
M: I used to be very timid, very meek when I first started out, but rap battles help you become fearless. At that time, rappers wasn’t soft. I was battling convicts, drug dealers, stickup boys. I wasn’t battling some random kid who made music in his living room with his little set up. That’s not how it worked, especially in Baltimore City. The element was real street.

Which must have made you a smarter rapper.
M: It made you a smarter rapper but also helped you in so many other ways. To this day, my projection and diction is a lot better than some of the people who are just starting out because they’re Internet raised to make music they can share with their friends on Hypebeast or Soundcloud. When I started, we were raised to be actual performers in venues on stages. We had to have more volume and be more robust because we had to control the crowd. A lot of these rappers now sound like Mickey Mouse when its time to be live.

Paul, what were some of your inspirations growing up?
P: It was a lot of the music my older brother listened to. A lot of Radiohead. Rock, ska, punk, some metal stuff. I started listening to hip-hop a lot more towards the end of high school—The Roots, J Dilla, Flying Lotus—and then later a good friend of mine turned me onto soul and funk. It was different from what I had been listening to but the same in many respects, because a lot of those hip-hop songs were sampled from those albums. That’s when I became fascinated with how to make it myself. Before that, I was really just a fan and a consumer, and being a drummer, I connected with rhythms from an early age but the hard part was all of the melodies and bigger sounds and samples. But that was a light bulb moment. Getting a look behind the curtain, I realized there was this entire world I hadn’t tapped into before. Then a lot of stuff started making sense.

Coming up through such different musical paths, what do you think it is that connected you two?
P: It just kind of clicked from the start. From the time we met each other to the time we put out the first EP was only about two months, max. It all happened really fast.

M: One of the benefits of starting this with Paul was that I didn’t really go into it with any kind of expectations. I was like the music sounds good, I like these beats, let’s see what we can do. I didn’t go into it thinking it would become what it’s becoming. I’m grateful for that. But when you’ve been trying to pursue a dream for so long, you don’t really get attached to a lot of things. You just never know how things are going to pan out in life. It’s been a nice surprise.

So far, so good.
M: When you’re in a group, there’s a honeymoon period, but when certain things ain’t cute no more—when you have to actually get up and work and email those people and talk to that person and work with this engineer and beg this person for press—that’s when you find out if it’s going to work or not. It’s hard being in a group! Whether it’s two people or five people, it is work. It’s a job. It’s a relationship. It’s like a marriage. The key is being able to accept people for who they are, not who you want them to be.

Tell me about A Church on Vulcan.
M: Paul was playing a record and I said, ‘This sounds like a church on Vulcan.’ I had been watching old Star Trek episodes and was just so inspired by Nichelle Nichols, and it just rolled off the tongue. I grew up going to Baptist Church, and a lot of my passion comes from watching preachers, so when you see me talking to crowds, its like I’m a pastor.

A Church on Vulcan has a lot of messages—a lot of political and social commentary—but ultimately it’s a screen shot. I kind of look at this album [as if I’m] Fareed Zakaria from CNN. It’s like being a reporter; there’s always a story. Some of these stories are not directly mine at all. It might be about a friend. It might be about a person I talked to who really touched me. I might have been watching Anderson Cooper and seen some crazy shit going on in the world and was just like, ‘Oh my god, I need to address this!’

“Yesterdays” is a beautiful Baltimore anthem. You really paint the city. It feels like riding in a cab, watching the streets go by.
M: I love Baltimore City. I’m a son of the city. I didn’t just go to college here and decide to stay on a couple years. I am a born and raised in West Baltimorean my whole life. I remember my mother watching reruns of Oprah on WJZ.

I think a lot of times the true spirit of Baltimore gets lost in sensationalism or propaganda. I loved The Wire, but people really looked at a whole city as that one section. Yes, that is a very real part, but you don’t understand the context. Baltimore is such a multi-layered city and a lot of the citizens are so beaten down that they’re too tired to tell the story. But I’m not tired. And I’m not going to stop until the real story is told.