Make Yourself At Home: Reginald Helms Jr
“I’m screaming/HOW DOES IT FEEL?/How does it feel/My city so big it feel like you on top of the world if you on it/My city so big it feel like you on top of the world if you on it/My city so big it feel like you on top of the world if you on it.”
The word that comes to mind at once when listening to Reggie’s music, and talking to him, is ‘authenticity.’ The young artist doesn’t seem fazed by his budding success: “I’m just taking it as it comes,” he said. When asked about career highlights, he doesn’t point to praise from Rolling Stone or the New York Times, but mentions a small write-up in Essence magazine. “My mom knows Essence, to her that’s huge,” he added. “So, that’s big to me.”
Though his hometown is always held close through his work, Reggie made the move to Los Angeles, and hasn’t lost steam this year, in spite of the challenging climate—not only should his creative prowess be to blame, but having left home at a young age, the artist got accustomed to taking care of himself. About the move out of his childhood home, he’s said in previous interviews, “I could have been did this on my own all along. I started making a lot of money after getting out of the house and it made me wonder why I had been putting up with my parents’ rules my whole life. It taught me I could literally do anything and acquire anything i wanted.” And he’s proven this by putting out singles with Smino and Kenny Beats, scoring a print feature in i-D, and writing and executive producing Maxo Kream’s new album. He recently announced a fellowship with Cash App Studios, a new initiative from the mobile payment service to help fund independent artists. And now, he’s working on his full-length debut for 2022. Reggie, though fairly fresh in the business, is making it obvious his time is valuable.
His croon and laidback beats boast a Southern charm, and his flow bears shades of D’Angelo and André 3000 as he sings about his upbringing and his future, depression and blessings. Reggie’s process matches the tone of his music, vulnerable introspection sprinkled with lighthearted observations, and fragmented memories of growing up around religion.
“The streets said ‘You don’t need meds’/My mama said ‘You just need prayer’/I need what they give you at the dentist/I don’t wanna feel no more (no more).” “I disappear into my room when I’m writing,” he said. “Or sometimes I’ll be out when I get an idea and I’ll have to borrow a friend’s phone to record a voice memo. I get ideas everywhere and they’ll be weird as hell.”
He paints a picture of life in Houston with girls who think they’re “above giving money to pastors.” When prayer doesn’t cut it, he asks for “what they give you at the dentist.” Reggie feels it all. “I put my life into the music, the lessons I learn, my stories,” he explained. “All my songs have a message. It’s whatever I have on my heart at that time.”
