"Although I didn't write this song, it spoke to me in a way that made me feel as if it was my own story,” Brandon said. “I found myself playing it over and over again in my bedroom, remembering situations that I've been through.”
Check out the video for yourself below.
office sat down with the rapper to talk about ego, his debut mixtape and how the struggle really is real.
Where are you from?
Bed Stuy—the old Bed Stuy when it was insane. It was a tough place in the ‘90s—crime was high, there were a lot of shootings and robberies, and my mother would work endless hours to support us. That isolation allowed me to gradually construct my own perspective of the world. Seeing a lot of violence and seeing my family struggle as I was growing up, I think that actually pushed me to dig deep and it pushed me to find a way out.
Were you always so creative?
Growing up in Brooklyn, you’re either a basketball or football player, you rap or you sell drugs. I was fascinated with music and word play. We grew up listening to hip-hop at family gatherings and cookouts. Me and my cousins would rap to Dipset and DMX. But after a while, I stopped writing music. I hit this low place and started writing poetry.
How do you differentiate between writing rap lyrics and writing poetry?
Rap lyrics are written so that they match a particular melody or sound, whereas poetry comes from a stream of emotions and thoughts. But for the most part, they’re considered to be the same.
What made you stop writing music?
I reached this place where my understanding of my worth didn’t match what I wanted to project into the world. I was lost and found myself searching for this profound placement in life, when in all actuality that place of validation comes from within, and has to be discovered over time.
When did you get back into music?
In like 2014, I met an engineer and we started working together on an album, but it didn’t go very well. We’d get into arguments. I’d work really fast and there was animosity because he’d keep wanting to add to new songs. So, it’d never get out—there’d always be some sort of delay. Through that frustration, I just left it alone.
With any creative project, it can be difficult to find partners whom you can collaborate with for a sustained amount of time.
Yeah, I think it’s easy to find people, but difficult to find people without ego and pride. I think those things shift communication. You’re no longer looking at the genuine quality of a body of work. I think you want people that are open and honest and want to make good music. From a deep place, I personally just want to make people happy and feel good. I went through a really difficult experience in my life and I know for a lot of people, going through times that are difficult, it’s hard to see the light. With my music, I want to give people something to believe in. I think a lot don’t push forward because they don’t know what happens on the other side. I want to be that example for them—this is what happens when you believe in something. Nothing can stop you.
Can I ask what the experience was?
In 2011, I had viral meningitis and I couldn’t walk or do much of anything. And there was a moment, maybe 20 seconds, where I actually lost my vision. Going through that really gave me a new perspective. It slowed everything down for me and I started appreciating the simple things, and music was the reason I was able to walk. I had a woman who would come visit me every day and help me try to stand up. After two weeks of trying, she brought over Fabolous’ S.O.U.L. tape, which had just come out. I got goosebumps listening to it and took my first steps.
Music can be such a powerful force. What is it about your music that you think is different?
The music I’m writing is an expression of release. Most people spend the majority of their lives trying to find ways to separate themselves, but really, we’re all connected. I think that if people spent more time believing in a feeling rather than in obsessing over perceptions, they’d be set free from all worries and pain.
Who did you end up working with on The Loft Blue Tape?
It was all me. I bought beats from various producers. It was a culmination of all of the music that I’d wanted to release over the years. There was a specific sound I wanted to make that wasn’t out there yet. And in order to master that, I needed time to understand who I was. I wanted to make something raw and organic for people. I’m really here to shake everything up. So, I wrote the lyrics and recorded it in a studio in Brooklyn.
What’s next for you?
Towards the end of November, I’m releasing my second recording, Old Brooklyn Tape, and Paradigm is hosting a special dinner to celebrate it. I’ll be performing songs from the tape and some spoken-word poetry. I’m truly grateful to work with the Paradigm family.
'The Loft Blue Tape' is out now.
It was a blessing and a curse. Before the craziness, MØ was just a fiery Danish girl making pop music that served as an outlet for her inexhaustibly youthful energy, and that went against the grain. Then she became the grain. Her new album Forever Neverland explores this dilemma.
The album's title (as well as her Instagram handle @momomoyouth) conjures up ideas of endless adolescence, a theme prevalent in all of MØ's work, even in the early years as part of ruthless punk duo Mor. This sort of Michael Jacksonian approach, though, was complicated by her abrupt mainstream success. Suddenly, there were expectations, and with the world at her fingertips, MØ didn't really know what to do. "Success is such a vague word," she tells me. It's true—whereas the general public may have seen her sudden ubiquity as success, MØ didn't feel successful unless she stayed true to herself.
With the help of producer Stint, Forever Neverland encapsulates a sonic balance between mainstream radio pop/EDM and the raw, gritty nature of MØ's roots. In the midst of all this, it seems that MØ has also found a new balance between eternal youth and adulthood—that to simply be yourself is to fight the looming suspense of getting older. When I ask what she was like in school, she replies: "A very distracted, energetic and noise-producing child." Fortunately for MØ, I don't think that will ever change.
Dress by Adam Selman, tights by Maison Soksi, pendant by Bijules, stylist's own shoes.
You occupy a space not many artists have occupied—being suddenly thrown into intense mainstream popularity and having to navigate that yet still stay true to yourself. What was the hardest part of it all?
The hardest part was navigating it. There was just so much noise, and so many opinions, and I am unfortunately very bad at multitasking. I need to digest my thoughts one-by-one, so I found it difficult at times—especially back in 2015 and 2016. At the same time, I was also super psyched and pumped up by the whole adventure so I didn't want to just shut the door until I had figured out exactly what I wanted. I wanted action, so I engaged in the action even if I wasn't 100% sure where I was going in the beginning. It was fun but also difficult because I wanted to experiment and "ride the wave," but I was also constantly scared of not being true to myself and to my music. Everything is a process though, and I'm glad that I had the chance to experience and learn from this phase in my life.
Coat and pants by Maryam Nassir Zadeh, stylist's own top and shoes.
What’s your favorite lyric or combination of lyrics on this album? Is there one that made you jump out of your seat when you came up with it?
I do really like the lyrics in the last song on the album, "Purple Like The Summer Rain." I like: "This is what I wanted all my life / No one can take it, no / Pour me all the wine and let me picture that I made it, oh!" because that was just really how I was feeling at the time. This thing about "making it"—what does it even mean? Success is such a vague word. I also like this line from the same song: "This is what a universal fairytale is made of / Sugar in my veins, purple like the summer rain." How no single feeling (and nothing in life, really) is one dimensional. There's always a bit of blue to the red.
What do you think makes Danish female pop artists stand out and be so bold? Sometimes I feel like Danish female pop could be its own genre.
Yeah, I agree with you. We have some great girls. I don't know what it is, though. In my personal opinion, I feel like Danes like to be a little bit different, we like to stand out a bit, but at the same time, we're ambitious and we don't take ourselves too seriously all the time, which I think is a good thing. Knowing what you’re worth, but at the same time, having a bit of self-irony.
Coat and pants by Adam Selman, shoes by Alexander Wang.
If your voice was an animal, what would it be?
A weasel. Cute, rough and a bit weird.
Describe the role Los Angeles played in the making of this album. Is it really the City of Angels?
It's the city of some angels. Los Angeles and the songwriter/music production community that there is out there introduced me to a whole new world and new way of making music. It is much more collaborative than what I had been used to making No Mythologies To Follow. To begin with, it was scary because I wasn't used to opening up to strangers in a songwriting situation like that, and you really have to open up if you want to write a good song. I was so socially aware all of the time, completely out of my comfort zone and couldn't focus on the song. But I grew with the experience, got more and more comfortable, and found a handful of people that I now write a lot with. So, I'm happy that I pulled through the challenge.
I still have a lot to learn, though. I also learned that it's great to work with others but it's also, for me at least, important to still write songs completely on my own from time to time.
Dress by Saint Laurent, shoes by Alexander Wang.
What were you like in school?
A very distracted, energetic and noise-producing child. Hungry for attention and activities. But also a creative little daydreamer.
What’s the biggest life lesson you’ve learned since the release of your last album and Forever Neverland?
That it's important to have faith in your own abilities. I know it might sound banal, but sometimes—in an ocean of opinions, possibilities and stress—you can forget that the reason why you're here is because of you. It's important to listen and evolve, but you also have to nurture and believe in your own creative fire and visions and know when to say "fuck no." Also—work hard and be kind to people.
How did you experiment with new sounds or methods in the studio with this album, if at all?
We did, and my executive producer Stint really helped me find my sound for this album. I'm honestly not super technical when it comes to defining sound. For me, it happens in a very organic and natural way—I know what I like when I hear it, you know? I always love a blend of modern trends, simplicity, something kind of dark, a weird twist and then a blast from the past of some sort. And then I hate if things get too boring or if something repeats itself for too long or if it feels forced.
Coat and pants by Adam Selman, shoes by Alexander Wang.
office is all Danish, and so are you. How did Denmark influence your sound growing up?
The music that I have been the most inspired by throughout my life actually wasn’t Danish music—it was from the US or UK, except Aqua and Kim Larsen, which I listened to a great deal. But I lived my whole life in Denmark and every important step on the road has obviously influenced me somehow, so my output will be some kind of product of that. I am all Danish as you say. So, even if my music is globally-focused and inspired by global music back then and now, there will still be a big chunk of my Danish upbringing in there somewhere.
What does MØ’s future look like?
Hopefully bright, and stuffed with music and adventures.
Photo assistant: Caroline Brown; Stylist assistant: Jalil Johnson; Lead photo: Jacket by Ganni, pendant by Bijules, tights by Maison Soksi, shoes by Alexander Wang.
Forever Neverland is out now.
office had the pleasure of sitting down with the rapper to discuss what it was like growing up in Japan, the power of believing your own destiny into existence and his almost two-year-old baby, True.
You grew up in Tokyo. Has that shaped your musical taste?
It made a super big impression on my taste with music, fashion—just my vibe—maybe even in the way I treat people.
In what way?
I feel like it’s a very helpful, very complimentary [city] with no filter. It feels organic; it feels real.
Well, whatever it is, it’s not very New York.
Yeah, I tend to like people who are the same type of way, too. Anyway, I stayed an hour away from Tokyo, in Yokosuka. So, I’d take the train into Tokyo and I would be in the mix on the weekends and I feel like that definitely added to my vibe. Those were the years I was growing up where I caught myself coming to school late, or not going to school, finding out what I really like to wear, what my style was, what music I liked—they were the years where I found out what I liked and it just so happened to be in Japan. So, all of my first times—like my first crush and first real girlfriend was in Japan. It was cool having those different moments. Like, I was listening to certain songs, like Lupe [Fiasco singing], 'Wake up in Tokyo,' and I was really out there with that whole vibe.
What other kinds of music were you listening to at that time? Any Japanese artists?
I knew about Japanese artists, but I didn’t start to work with them until later on. When I lived there, in terms of Japanese rap, it might have been the Teriyaki Boyz. Around the time that everyone was listening to J.Cole, Mac Miller, Wiz [Khalifa], Kendrick—all of the great hip-hop artists—that was the time I was probably listening to all of that too. My background music was the same as other kids, but my surrounding was different. I was listening to all the music that kids were listening to in the states with a mixture of hearing EDM coming out from all of the clubs around me. So, you hear all the top 50, pop, EDM, reggae. But I’ve always been the kid listening to everything and getting hip to listening to all of the mixtapes nobody is listening to just because I want to hear some different sounds, different verses.
Yeah, great music has a way of transcending all environments while appealing to a wide range of people, and still resonating with them.
Exactly, and it’s dope to listen to a song and hear what it reminds people of. They’ll tell you, ‘Oh I remember when this came out and I was listening to it on the train in New York.’ And I’m like, ‘I was in Tokyo eating ramen,’ or whatever—something different. It’s so dope that everybody has a moment with music and it might mean something to someone else or it might not. That’s what’s dope with music—location and vibes. So, I think it made me like music different. If I didn’t live there, it would’ve sparked my whole brain to something else.
Right.
It’s funny, I used to think I’d bump into Pharrell in Tokyo, running out of Bape stores because that was my vibe listening to the music and I know he [hangs out] in Tokyo. I think that was the vibe that I wanted—that was the stuff I reblogged on Tumblr. From the modern homes to the Takashi [Murakami] stuff, like plush animal shit. Then I started really believing it could happen. I love the fact that I could live in Japan for a time period because it’s really added to my taste. I’m glad that my pops put me in a position that made my story different. I used to want to be a kid that just grew up in Brooklyn. When I was a kid, I didn’t want to move away from my friends. Then there was a time where I was like, ‘Wait, I don’t have to be around you two years from now? Alright.’ So, I appreciate all the moving, I appreciate Japan. Now, when I go back to Japan, I really feel it. People show more love—it’s dope. Like, in the middle of Tokyo, someone stops me just to tell me that they’re a real fan and then somebody else skates by like ‘Chains on Skateboard P,’ and I’m just like, ‘Wow shit is crazy.’ It’s like, I used to live there and just run around Tokyo, being young at the clubs, and now, people stop and feel what I do, and on top of it, you’re in Tokyo, but you’re not Japanese. It’s so fire.
That sort of connection is incredible. You talked a bit about believing in yourself until you made it. Do you think you can manifest your own reality?
That’s scary. I just had this conversation the other day with my brother. I have a song where I talk about ‘cruising through Melrose, bad chick from France’—all of this stuff that I’m saying in the song—and all of that is happening now to the point where even in my songs I talk about, ‘My ex keep callin’, swear that she in the way’—all of that stuff that you say eventually happens. It’s sad to say this and so scary that we’ve been going through all of these past deaths, but I listen to certain songs and I’m like, ‘Yo, this was definitely a whole letter—why didn’t I listen to this?’ Certain vibes and energy are so powerful to the point where I never said that I don’t think it’ll happen for me. Honestly, I never said that. But there was a moment that I remember my mom told me, ‘You’re going to get your chance to do everything that you want to do, but it’s not right now and that’s okay. But one day, people are going to look at you the way that you want them to.’ At that moment, I was like—I mean, of course your mom is going to say that type of shit to you ‘cause it’s your mom, you know? And your pops is gonna say that too—but I started speaking everything into reality. I wasn’t making depressing music—I was making music that was happy, like, I was really doing that, and it made me feel cool ‘cause people were telling me that when they listened to my music, it made them feel cool.
Right now, I have this whole relationship where I feel like certain songs can come back and bite you in the ass. Lyrics like, ‘I got bored too quick,’ or like, ‘Had to get a brand new chick’—you be on stage and it’s so surreal it all runs back to you in your head being like, ‘When I recorded this I was in a full relationship.’ Life happens a certain way for a reason, but I feel like they’re subliminal things that God makes happen. You’re looking back like, ‘Why did I make this song?’ because subliminally in your head, that’s your vibe, and certain things you do attract certain behavior back. If you wake up in the morning like, ‘I look good, I feel good, I’m gonna go to the coffee shop and say, ‘Hi,’ and start two conversations and give off a good vibe today,’ I feel like you’ll be a step closer to whatever you wanna do.
Like, the energy you put out is what you get in return.
If you’re negative with it, it’s not gonna happen for you. ‘Cause you’ll meet a person so cocky, saying he’s gonna do it, and he’s the one who ends up doing it. Then everyone who’s really talented is like, ‘How the fuck did he end up making it?’ Because he manifested it and it came to the point where he believed it so much that other people started to believe it too. When Flacko was sittin’ here singing, 'I’m that pretty motherfucker,' and he really came through with that aura.
Yeah, he’s sexy.
Exactly! And if you put that vibe out there where you claim to be the best rapper and someone comes to test you, then guess what, you’re getting tested because you kept that vibe. And if you fye, you get to take that crown. And if you sit there saying you that pretty motherfucker, you gonna really have to be that jiggy all the time and it’s gonna be put to the test, and if you keep that vibe, you are that guy. He was saying it in his songs before people was saying it—before people was ubering everywhere.
I’ve definitely said I want a brand new house, a brand new whip, a brand new bitch and I got all of that shit in less than a year of me putting that song out. All that shit real quick. There were songs in past years where I was doing hip hop shit and I was just rapping about shit that just wasn’t working out. I listen to my old music and some of the shit was depressing. Then when I start to switch my topic is when I start getting more followers and people started fucking with me more because the vibe that I put out wasn’t sad—it was cool.
Putting out an image that people want to aspire to be.
So many people are depressed. It’s like, even the kids that are out now that are putting out depressed music are ‘depressed,’ but they aren’t depressed. There are kids even more depressed than them with no money, no nothing like that. The depressed kids are looking at artists for help, so I be looking at all of this. It’s funny, you manifest want you want.
The universe listens.
Yeah, everybody’s listening, everybody’s watching. Nobody is a nobody. Like, it can happen in the blink of an eye. If I didn’t even say I was gonna do this—that’s crazy—I don’t know where I’d be right now. I don’t even know how I’d be taking care of my son. I probably wouldn’t have even met my baby moms, because I probably wouldn’t have went to her show, people wouldn’t have tagged me ‘cause I wouldn’t have been poppin’ enough, whatever. There’s a lot of factors to this. Each moment is so important. That’s why I spread positivity and when I leave a room I say, ‘Take care of each other.’ I have to spread that.
What do you think is people’s biggest misconception about you?
There’s a lot—I see Tweets and different things. I don’t know, you could probably listen to my music and not get the same vibe from me in an interview. You listen to my music and it’s turnt, it’s a fun time, but you don’t get the smoke-a-blunt vibe with Tokyo having a conversation on the couch—because I’m not turnt all day. Sometimes I’m just chillin’, ordering Postmates, maybe watching my DJ play Fortnite because I haven’t started that yet. I don’t know, I guess with any rapper, the misconception is that we’re out here smashing all these chicks. So, to all the model chicks out there, I’m not really that type of guy. I can’t even explain it ‘cause I’m a whole dad.
How old is your son?
My son will be two is January. Yeah, I’m dad as fuck. But even before, I’ve never been that type of guy. My parents are still together—they’ve been together since before I was born. I really do believe in true love. I’m picky. I’m just like you. But I think I’m special and I think everybody should be their biggest fan.
Considering your musical style, concerts must get pretty insane. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen happen in the crowd?
At first, I used to think seeing some titties was wild, but you learn to just deal with it.
So, when you’re not performing, or creating music, what are you doing?
I’m with my son, True.
What do you and True do together?
I bought this ball pit—it’s like a mini Chuck-E-Cheese in my crib right now. He loves it. So, yeah, I’m either with him, skating, or shopping.
What’s your favorite brand?
That’s hard. I like a lot of vintage stuff, a lot of archived stuff. I like Japanese brands. Like these pants I’m wearing are LAD Musician, Japanese denim. Nike and Adidas too—I fuck with both of them. But overall, MadeinTYO likes a lot of Japanese brands. When I go shopping, I actually like to get stuff for my son too. I buy him Gucci. I like the stuff Gucci does for kids because it’s super animated and it actually looks like kid’s clothes, rather than dressing him like a little man. You know, I like taking photos of him in that stuff, but he’s not all day everyday like that. Let him wear Spiderman or Scooby-Doo stuff, you know, he’s a kid. I go to Uniqlo, get him a bunch of onesies, and he’s good. He doesn’t care about all of that. I learned my lesson buying him a white Gucci shirt, it’s the worst. I knew it was gonna happen—that shit was fire, though.
What does the future have in store for you?
Imma dab in different stuff. It’s a mixture with clothes and skating that I’m working on—it’s gonna be dope. You might see my son start modeling or something. And always pushing the good vibe, doing everything with love.
'Sincerely, Tokyo' drops October 26.
