Drew Scott – Baltimore Magazine

The Big Baltimore Playlist: November 2018

Lydia Woolever — Thu, 29 Nov 2018 10:43:00 +0000

In the latest iteration of The Big Baltimore Playlist, we found five local songs ranging from barebones indie-rock and supergroup dream-pop to explosive, experimental hip-hop. Check back each month for new top songs of the moment, and follow our Spotify playlist as we continue to build a soundtrack for our city.

“Mirror Mirror” by Chaunter

Introducing Chaunter, the new Baltimore band you need to know now and the brainchild of art scene denizens Brooks Kossover and Jenghis Pettit. In the new year, the duo, with Kossover on vocals and flute and Pettit on guitar, will be releasing their debut album Dream Dynamics with an aspirational league of Baltimore heavyweights, from Dan Deacon to Sam Herring of Future Islands to Lower Dens’ Jana Hunter, as featured here on the record’s first single. Through this song and the rest of its idiosyncratic record, you drift through a mythical dream world. It unfurls in reverie—swirling in gauzy synth, smoldering with reverberating guitar, brimming with both Hunter’s haunting vocals and grand group harmonies—landing somewhere between the glory-days of Labyrinth-era David Bowie and the golden age of Baltimore DIY dream-pop.

“North Star” by Joy Postell

Okay, so by now you might be tired of us gushing over the new music of local neo-soul singer-songwriter Joy Postell, but too bad. We found the first singles, “Consciousness” and “Water,” off her full-length Diaspora debut to be moving portraits with true vision, which imbues the rest of the record. “North Star,” for example, could be seen as the album’s sleeper hit for its quiet disposition, sparse composition, and only minute-long length, but this breathtaking spiritual sets the stage for the entire record, transporting listeners to a midnight field beneath the big dark sky, perhaps in another era, perhaps right now, all the while preparing you to embark on a transformative journey. Postell’s vocals—exposed, ethereal, yet full of power—call for freedom and convey the strength within her music to find it.

“Pretn’d (Drew Scott Remix)” by RoVo Monty

In the 21st century, we can’t get enough songs about the misgivings of modern love, where lyrics help us make our way through the maze of dating in 2018. Take this slow-jam by R&B singer-songwriter RoVo Monty, in which the protagonist asserts his desires and demands in the face of the fair-weather relationship. Turning a common trope of unrequited love on its head, this track is about self-empowerment, through and through, with candid lyrics (“tired of knocking boots, how about you show me ’round town?”) calling it like it is. And calling out for a simple bit of chivalry. Founded in electronic melodies inspired by fashion, dance, and disco, Monty’s confident verses float over a lush, funky melody crafted by local beat master Drew Scott, featuring a fiery guest flow by no-holds-barred Baltimore rap favorite DDm.

“The 2nd Most Beautiful Girl in the World” by Snail Mail*

These days, no one does young heartache quite like Snail Mail’s Lindsey Jordan, the Ellicott City singer-songwriter who skyrocketed to indie stardom over the last year for her coming-of-age rock-and-roll. And with this cover of a 1990 song by the little-known Washington duo Courtney Love (no relation to the Hole frontwoman), Jordan might just have outdone herself. Compared to the original’s spunky post-punk beat, this stripped-down version features nothing more than a few reverberating strums of guitar and Jordan’s vulnerable vox, stretched out to its most elastic, emotive state, pushing and pulling at certain words like the tugs of memory at a broken heart. In the end, and especially on the live stage as we saw at the Parkway Theatre this summer, she reinvents the song as all her own.

“Play Hard” by Soul Cannon

We knew the long-awaited release of Soul Cannon’s self-titled album was going to bring the fire, and the experimental hip-hop quartet have more than delivered—on their new record, and especially in this potent time bomb of a track. As in all of the band’s music, “Play Hard”makes, breaks, and recreates its own rules from start to finish. The song is an urgent, unruly sprint, with frontman Eze Jackson speaking breakneck truth—a sort of poet-prophet—while the jazz-influenced instrumentation of his talented bandmates both keeps pace and inspires further pursuit. Rapping on the fleeting flicker of life, Jackson’s verses zig and zag, running uphill. At the song’s peak, with ascending runs of bass and an outright avalanche of drums, it’s as if they outrun death itself.

*Not on Spotify. We’ll add it to the playlist when it becomes available.

Source

Ratscape Returns After a Three-Year Hiatus on Artscape Weekend

Lydia Woolever — Fri, 06 Jul 2018 16:10:00 +0000

Over the years, Baltimore’s DIY scene has birthed a number of dynamic music festivals. Whartscape. Scapescape. Fields Festival. Ladyfest. Most have petered out—some losing their venues and others with founders who have moved on to bigger projects—while a small few still remain, like the punk-forward U+N Fest.

Now, after a three-year hiatus, the Ratscape music festival has announced its return to Station North with three days of underground music during Artscape weekend on July 20-22. Named for the city’s prolific rodent but also as a celebration of the scene’s underdog status, the event will feature more than 40 acts across multiple genres, playing for free or small covers outside at the Ynot Lot and inside at The Windup Space.

After the festival’s last event at the Ottobar in 2015, “we decided to take a break for a couple years because we wanted to move things into our own venue and do things by our own rules,” says Joshua Schleupner, who co-founded the festival with Mike Franklin at the now-defunct Hour Haus on North Avenue in 2012. Lack of sufficient space has long been a point of conversation and contention in the city’s various arts communities. In the wake of 2016’s Ghost Ship warehouse fire in Oakland, CA, the DIY Bell Foundry was shut down on North Calvert Street, and while Mayor Pugh’s Safe Art Space Task Force released recommendations for the creation of new safe and affordable arts spaces in December, there is still no timetable for their implementation.

But while the Ratscape founders have yet to open their own venue—they’re currently looking at buildings in Station North, Remington, Mt. Vernon, and the Bromo Arts District—Schleupner, Franklin, and fellow artist Caroline Devereaux recently founded the Baltimore Music Preservation with the long-term goal of creating a new, inclusive music space to help nurture the city’s artists.

“The current political climate can really contribute to the breaking down and separating of arts scenes, even further than they already were—and never should have been in the first place,” says Schleupner. “We just want to bring people together and let them realize that they’re appreciated.”

This year, the organizers hope that the festival, located within walking distance of Artscape, will have a community block-party atmosphere. In the tradition of their past lineups, which have included such revered local artists as Arbouretum, Celebration, Eze Jackson, Wet Brain, and Wing Dam, the bill features a diverse mix of both up-and-coming and national news-making acts.

On Friday, be sure to catch experimental rappers JPEGMAFIA and 83 Cutlass, followed by late-night sets from synth-pop singer Pale Spring and Giddeon Gallows, the new solo project by producer Drew Scott of electronic duo Blacksage. On Saturday, check out hardcore punk band Joe Biden, pictured, rising rapper Butch Dawson, and the Champion Sound 4 showcase, featuring some of the city’s top beat makers and emcees. On Sunday, wrap things up with garage “un-pop” group HexGirlfriends, R&B singer Bobbi Rush, rapper Dyyo Faccina, and experimental duo Wume, followed by late-night sets from drummer-producer Josh Stokes and electro-pop singer Gurl Crush.

“There’s this constantly evolving idea of what music is,” says Schleupner. “These young artists will keep pushing us forward and innovating, paving the way for more.”

Source

Al Rogers Jr. Discusses His New Album, Luvadocious.

Lydia Woolever — Thu, 12 Nov 2015 16:44:00 +0000

With his stylish swagger and contagious smile, Al Rogers Jr. has quickly become an artist to watch on the Baltimore music scene. From the Creative Alliance stage and Sowebo festival to The Sun’s top 10 under 30 and a packed album release party at The Crown this fall, the 25-year-old Baltimore native is spreading his positive vibes—or, as he affectionately calls them, swooz—and taking his hometown on a “love voyage” through his feel-good faith in passion, growth, and an open heart.

Upon the release of his second album, Luvadocious—a utopian storyline founded in his clever wordplay and Blacksage producer Drew Scott’s spellbinding beats—Rogers sits down with us at Red Emma’s to talk about his full-length follow-up, friendship with Scott, and how a little love can change the world.

Your Luvadocious listening party might have sold out the Red Room at The Crown.

Yo, it was packed. It was insane. I didn’t think I had that much support and seeing that was humbling. What was even more humbling, though, was that I had to go to work at the Light Rail the next morning.

Last night I was a super star and…

…and now I’m cleaning trains.

How do you balance all of that?

I have the perfect schedule. I work 9 to 5 on Saturdays and Sundays, and Monday through Friday, I’m off, but the catch is I work doubles. I work the overnight shift both nights and don’t get off until 6:30 Monday morning. It is what it is. I still gotta pay rent. But Monday through Friday? Straight-up music.

It’s great that you shared the spotlight with so many other artists that night, and even though this is only your second release, you shared the Luvadocious credit line with Drew Scott.

Yeah, it’s Al Rogers Jr. and Drew Scott. The producer is the most important. He created the environment for me to live in, you know what I mean? He laid the beats down and without that sound, it wouldn’t be a song. We just vibe. Drew’s like my brother. I call him “my brother man, from another man, from another land,” because he’s this white kid and I’m, you know, black, and we come from two totally different worlds. But when we come together, it’s all love.

How did you two meet?

About a year-and-a-half ago, we both were playing Ratscape at The Hour Haus and [Drew’s band with Josephine “Josie” Olivia] Blacksage was on. Everybody had been telling me, “Al, I think you’re going to like this band.” I played after them but before I perform, I’m super nervous. I’m like in and out, everywhere, like a chicken with his head cut off, so I couldn’t really pay attention. When I finally chilled, I was like, ‘Yo, this shit is really good—who is this?’ It was tight. I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself then, but when I got home, I made it my business to reach out. Drew was the one to respond and we were sending emails back and forth for a while. Then one day I was at my homie Lawrence’s house and I just so happened to see Drew and Josie walking down the street. I had never met them—we had just been talking through the web—and the only I reason I recognized them was because he had on this sick-ass Outkast shirt. We share this mutual love for Outkast. Andre 3000 is my hero, amongst other artists. So I called out [Drew’s] name, caught up with him, and we chopped it up. About three weeks later, I finally went past his house and we made the first song we ever recorded together. It was on his solo rap tape with Eze [Jackson] called ‘Allnighters.’ It wasn’t ’til Drew moved into his brother’s basement that we decided to work on an EP. By the time we finished it, though, we realized it wasn’t an EP—it was a full length.

Where did Luvadocious come from?

The idea came when I was on the train, cleaning, hating my job. We were already a couple of songs deep and I needed this tape to have a story and it just struck me. I’ve always believed that God was female, since a woman can bear a child. This world is extremely masculine and it seems like everything good in it is soft. And when I think of God, I think of everything good. And I was like, ‘I need to put this idea out there.’

Was Drew receptive to it?

When I told him the concept, he was like, ‘Hell yeah.’ Originally Luvadocious was going to be called ‘Scorpini’ cause I’m a Scorpio and he’s a Gemini and it was an ode to Outkast’s Aquemini, but we kind of wanted the tape to have its own identity.

It feels like something you call your girlfriend or boyfriend or lover.

[Laughs.] Yeah, yeah, yeah. For the title, I was thinking of the base word ‘lover’ and then the ‘docious’ came from that song ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,’ and when I finally came up with Luvadocious, it sounded like a place. Why not create this place for this God to be a part of?

Somewhere cosmic.

Yeah. I have something that’s part of my brand called ‘a love voyage.’ When we think of a voyage, we either think of space or the sea, and neither has been completely discovered yet. Like those voyages, a love voyage is a constant, never-ending journey for the things that we love. You’re going in blindfolded, with no idea what’s going to happen when you arrive, but you have an open heart.

Those themes underlie the somewhat heavier rap songs of your first album, Almost. What made them come out so full and optimistic in this project?

Because in that moment, I was in love. As human beings and as artists, we have to experience things. That was an experience I needed for my music to grow.

Did you have an easy time writing these songs?

When I’m in the house, I’d rather eat some pizza and watch a movie than write a song. I literally have to force myself to sit down. But during the process of recording this project, love was heavy on my mind, so it was extremely easy. Drew and me would get into his basement and knock all of that shit out.

What’s his set up like?

It’s extremely simple. It’s like a mic, his little keyboard, and an iPad. We recorded it and took it to Matt Bittman at WrightWay Studios who mixed it down and made it sound like it wasn’t recorded in . . . Drew’s basement. [Laughs.] I also think it was so natural for the simple fact that he and I like the same shit. We’re so different, but so similar. He put me down to a lot of music that I wasn’t aware of.

And probably vice-versa.

He has this extensive-ass audio collective of hip-hop vinyl, and if you come to my house, I have a huge chest full of like 300 funk, disco, soul, and R&B vinyls ranging from the ’50s to the ’80s. So we just bounced music back and forth and went for those sounds and made them ours.

Your sound together is unique and it embodies the music scene here, where everything is just melding into one another—different people, genres, disciplines.

I think Baltimore is on the edge of becoming the “it” city. More artists just need to understand our worth and value and continue to work together and push forward. You can ask anybody: I support other people’s shit here until I’m blue in the face. There are so many talents out there.

You definitely use more R&B and soul influences on this project, too. Unlike Almost, you sing now.

Honestly, I enjoy singing. I want to say more than rapping, but it’s just different. I’m blessed to be capable to be able to do both. When I come up with different flows and ways to rap, I’m stoked as hell, and when I come up with a melody, it’s like, ‘Oh wait ’til they hear this.’ But when I started pinning down lyrics to sing, it was like I was stepping into something else—something genre-blind. I just wanted the project to not be categorized.

But there is a cohesiveness.

I was afraid that certain songs were going to stick out but I’m so thankful everything flowed. I think my favorite song, though, is the only one that gives that old-school, hip-hop feel, which is “U>Me” with Joy. It was extremely easy to write because it felt like something from my first tape.

It’s a definitely a throwback love song that shows the line between both your albums.

I got [92Q’s] LaDawn Black on the tape. You gotta understand—my first breakup? I was in the eighth grade and I thought I was in love. I probably wasn’t, because I was like 13 years old and what the f*ck did I know about love? But I was a preteen listening to The Love Zone and LaDawn Black during my first breakup. [And] I grew up in the club. By the time I was going to the Paradox, Miss Tony was already gone—R.I.P.—but it was [Bmore club artist] Blaqstarr, and now he’s on my tape.

And he was at your show.

Yo, he’s a Baltimore legend. Both of those people are on my project. I never would’ve thought in a million years that I could pull that off. These are people I looked up to. Growing up here is not easy, and for them to get that platform is really amazing. When I came up, I was always fighting. I grew up in West Baltimore, went to Milford, then moved to the city—East Baltimore—in the ninth grade and went to Northern. I didn’t graduate, got my GED, and that’s probably my only regret in this world: not finishing high school. But I guess it worked out.

[But] when I moved to the city, it was a whole different world. I’ve seen a lot of shit. I’ve seen friends get stabbed. I’ve seen friends get shot. I went to friends’ funerals. So for me to be at this point now, making music about love and prosperity, it’s completely yin and yang. I strayed away from that path because of my brothers. One is locked up and he’s going to be gone for a long time. The other is staying on the straight path but was in and out of jail, too. I wasn’t trying to break my mother’s heart so I made a vow when I was 17 that I was going to straighten up and that’s when I started doing music. Music saved my life—literally.

That period of your life undoubtedly led to this part of it, too.

I’m going to put it this way: if you don’t know what the dark feels like, you won’t be able to appreciate the light.

I know you said Almost was necessary for you.

I was going through some serious shit during Almost. It was like a diary. I was scared to death because I had never told anybody that I got someone pregnant and that she got an abortion before. My mother’s first time hearing that was through the song. But it was definitely necessary. I think having both out now is going to give me more leeway for the third tape. As artists, we have to really experience, and I have a lot more to talk about now.

I had to ask myself: was I existing or was I living? And I didn’t like the answer I came up with. My next project is going to be all about living. I’m focusing on the things I need to do to better myself. I’m about to take a lot more risks. I want to help the lost souls, the misguided, the lovers, the youth. There’s always somebody who’s going to be able to relate to my story and take it with them.

It’s like you growing up listening to Blaqstarr and now having an album with him on it.

Our music is going to be here much longer than we will. I can die tomorrow and Luvadocious is still coming out and it’s going to be here until the world implodes and that’s amazing to think about . . . It’s a revolving door; people come, people go, but the experience and the music lives on. I might have grown past a certain stage, but whoever I was at that point in time—that energy that was inside of me—it’s still there, and somebody else out there is going through the exact same shit who can listen to it and grow. I want to make music that’s timeless, that will never go anywhere.

I assume it’s safe to say that’s the long-term goal: more music.

Oh yeah. I want to sell out Madison Square Garden. I’ve never been there, but I don’t want to go there till it’s my time. Either that or Coachella or some show that’s over like 10,000 people where the whole crowd is screaming “swooooz.” That’s how you know Al Rogers Jr. is in the motherf*cking building.

The love ship has landed.

Yo, the ship and the boat have sailed.

So you have to give me backstory of “swooz.”

Swooz was a term created by my cousins and me. This world is made for us to be so separated—class, gender, [sexual] preference, race—and I wanted to create something that everybody could be a part of. I wanted to make something for the average person who wakes up and feels insecure, to let them know they can conquer anything. I wanted to make something for people who feel alone, to let them know that even though we’re all connected, there’s still only one you, and you need to appreciate who you are first, and then help the person next to you appreciate who they are, and then grow together. I think when you have a network of people who are strong and independent, the world will grow. It has so much potential when people have open hearts and hope and faith. So that’s what the swooz is: joy, happiness, and free love. If you feel that way, you’re swoozy. At shows, I want people to scream swooz because I want them to be happy.

Do you think if that ever happened at the Garden, you’d still stick around Baltimore?

Oh yeah. I want to start a cat rescue here. I love cats.

You know it’s National Cat Day?

Oh, go to Twitter and pull up my two boys—Lou and Tommy [pulls out his phone and scrolls to a picture of his cats].

But yeah, everything is going to have swooz in the name. Swoozy Cat Rescue. The Swooz Room Rec Center. And I read that two of my favorite rappers, Styles P and Jadakiss, opened up natural juice bars in the hood in New York City for the people to stay healthy. We got liquor stores on every single corner here, but we don’t have anything fresh. I thought that was cool as hell, so I might have to borrow the idea.

Source