"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.
On getting discovered
I mean, I wasn’t inundated with offers, so I think it is still quite difficult. The amount of artists that are self-releasing on Spotify.. And then the label has to go through loads of stuff to find stuff they like. Or they just played Eeny, meeny, miny, mo, and I got the straw.
On Myspace and DIY
Now I’m showing my age, but I was really into Myspace and I remember burning CDs and sending them out to labels. But that was what you did. You sent stuff out into the ether, and no one ever got back to you. [Laughter] I used to make really bad music. Really bad, cheesy pop music. I went through a rapping stage, too. Thank God it was pre-internet, so you can’t find any of this shit online.
I think there’s a tendency to be programmed with this dream of, “I’m going to write a song in my bedroom, and all of a sudden this label is going to find me.” And then a few years back, I decided that, if you want a label to come to you, you need to act like a label yourself. You need to hire PR companies and promote yourself, and that’s what I started doing.
On Musical ADHD
I’ve got musical ADHD. I like to jump from one thing to another, so now I’ve decided that this is what I’m doing. It’s good for me because I get bored. To write a collection of songs that flows nicely together was kind of a challenge for me. If something’s not working out quite right, I’ll be like, “Oh, fuck it, I’m changing my name,” and start all over again.
It’s nice once or twice, but if you keep doing it, I think it can become too gimmicky or almost self-destructive. You put yourself back.
Now I won’t change it because I like my name. It feels stronger and more me. Before, I was Adam Near The Sea and The Adamski Kid. It didn’t fully resonate with me. Adam Prince King does. And this year I did three music videos for this project, so it’s a testament to how much I believe in it because it was a lot of work and I funded it all by myself.
On music video nostalgia
I grew up in the 80s when the music video was coming into true fruition—there was Kate Bush doing amazing videos, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Prince. I’m really influenced by that kind of old school artistry where the music video sold the song. We’ve lost that music video magic a little bit, I think.
I miss proper MTV, not this Kardashian shit. People have got the attention span of a squirrel nowadays. I meticulously make these music videos and make sure every frame is right in the edit, and then people will just watch 30 seconds of it or whatever. But if I think about that too much, I get a bit upset [Laughter].
“Run Up The Hill” by Kate Bush is my favorite music video. It’s a really simple, 80’s version of one of Sia’s music videos with the ballet and stuff, but Kate Bush is doing all the dancing, perfectly. She must’ve trained as a ballerina, I don’t know. And they didn’t have special effects in those days. They had to make the actual concept really strong.
Another one that comes to mind is “Toxic” by Britney Spears. Those really iconic music videos. That was by the director Joseph Kahn. He’s done a few good ones.
On a longing for deep voices
My voice doesn’t sound like other people on the radio, so I do go through phases of having a complex of, “I’m not selling records because I don’t sound like Justin Bieber." But who is a baritone or a bass on the radio? No one, really. Everyone is singing quite high in their range. Where’s the Elvis of today? People with strong, deep voices?
I don’t know why the radio favors higher voices. Even going back, pop music from the 90’s onwards has always been like that. There’s a sound. Look what they did to Britney Spears. They make you have this sound that appeals to a younger audience, I guess. Maybe a higher-pitched voice will psychologically appeal to teenager girls. Maybe I’m going too deep into it…
And for women, there’s not really someone with a deep voice, either—anymore. Who made this decision? The government has locked up all the deep voice people.
On staying creative
Drugs. No, I’m joking. I did used to smoke quite a lot of weed, but it doesn’t work for me anymore. Now, you’ll laugh, but I take 100% Cacao, and it helps with my creativity. I do yoga, and I meditate.
I do Kundalini yoga. It’s very LA, and they wear white turbans and stuff. It’s a lot of breath stuff. You’re basically hyperventilating while doing some repetitive movements. And you just feel high afterwards, a natural high. It’s on YouTube, man. There’s loads.
But inspiration just comes if I sit. It’s getting myself to sit, that’s the problem. I’m quite restless.
On duality
I work at a yoga center doing front of house, and I do some website stuff.
Listen, it’s in South Kensington. I don’t know if you know London at all, but this is like Money Land. I don’t know what the equivalent here would be. Where’s the Trump building? It’s lots of posh French and Arab women that come to my work. They’re nice as pie, but it’s not something I wanna do for the rest of my life. It pays the bills. I used to work for Apple repairing things, but I would go home and cry myself to sleep because it was such a horrible job. I had people throwing their phones at me, and yeah, I just quit one day. Then I found this job which gives me a bit of headspace. If you have a job that stresses you out and you want to be a creative full time as well, you can’t. Now I’ve found a balance. In an ideal world, I’d make money full time from my music. That’s my next step.
Directed by Nicole Della Costa
Make-up by Rachael Krutchkoff
Styling by Zoë Kiefl
Featuring Nicola Donà & Zoë Kiefl
Recorded at Pom Pom Studio in Rome, Italy
Produced by Luca Di Cataldo, Edoardo Castroni & Dizzyride
Mixed by Richard Formby
Mastered by Andrea Suriani
Additional recordings by Luca Di Cataldo, Edoardo Castroni
Filmed at Von in New York City by Nicole Della Costa
The day before, Dreamdoll was forced to unexpectedly cancel on the photoshoot we had planned, the reason being that Love & Hip Hop called her in last minute to shoot. Dream makes it a point to live stream during radio interviews, and she consistently posts lengthy Instagram stories of her day that sometimes take hundreds of taps to get through. If she’s not hosting parties in the wee hours of the night, she’s doing photoshoots or popping off in the studio. She says “days off” aren’t really a thing for her anymore—if she does have days off, they’re spent prepping for the days to come. Dream is living the fast-paced lifestyle that we’ve all lusted over at one point or another and has achieved it in a way that seemingly became possible only within recent years.
Having first been introduced to the public as the rowdy troublemaker who got kicked out early on Bad Girls Club: Season 16, Dream seems no stranger to going all out for the sake of entertainment. “When I was on Bad Girls Club, everybody was just super Kumbaya,” she says about her controversial time on the show, with a dignified sense of calmness. “At the end of the day, we’re there for people to watch a TV show, we’re there for the views.” And it’s this very understanding of outrageousness and attention-seeking as a calculated method for success that sets Dream apart from her season 16 peers and launches her into this ever-growing pool of “TV personality-turned-mogul,” whom the general public love to watch stir the pot yet feel guilty for taking a taste.
Although Dream's last minute cancellation was unfortunate and a bit frustrating, when she showed up the next day in her bubblegum pink Range Rover and walked through the door singing, “TALK TO ME NICE, OR DON’T TALK TO ME TWICE,” you couldn’t help but lean into the madness. Whether you fall in love with Dream’s charisma or you are simply just paying attention, she understands that in today’s age of celebrity, attention and love are pretty interchangeable.
There are definitely comparisons to be made, specifically to current it-girl Cardi B who also gained fame through Love & Hip Hop and has gone on to flourish within the music world. “God is definitely on her side,” Dream says about her fellow Bronx sister. “She opened a lot of doors for me.” For this new female archetype that celebrities like Cardi and Dream represent, it’s the overwhelming feeling of authenticity that the public seems to latch onto most, as well as the fact that these women built themselves up from nothing to some degree of ubiquity. “There’s money in the world for everybody,” she says, explaining her come-up with a delightful charm that makes it seem as easy as pressing “Share” on your new Insta pic. “Everybody can get record deals, everybody can do anything.”
She uses this openness as a means for attack, it seems. Whenever she drops a new song or has even the smallest announcement, it’s inevitable that she’ll blast it on every social media account she has, just in case someone might’ve missed it. “I take full advantage of my following, it’s very important.” And while she is currently focused on her music career, which seems to be going pretty well so far, it’s the utter willingness to excel within this openness that will push Dream to new heights. “I want to do movies, I want to be able to put on a Comme des Garçons runway piece and fit into the Japanese vibe.” Why not?
Towards the end of our interview, Dream harks up memories from her teenage years. “I was always on social media, and I was always fly,” she recalls. “You know how they say, ‘She got a Chanel bag with no money in it’? I was that. I was up in the labels.” Now she is working on expanding her horizons with a number of exciting music collaborations that go beyond the sometimes limiting female rap genre, and even has her own line of cosmetics dropping soon. “They’re going to call it The Dream Collection, and some of the lipstick names are ‘Wet Dream,’ ‘Nightmare’—it’s going to be super dope.”
She says that the origin of her moniker comes from her high school posse, in which all of the members would have “Doll” at the ends of their names. “I called myself ‘Dream’ because I would sell guys dreams,” she says with triumph. “I will sell you a dream if I’m dealing with you.” Fitting, then, that she’s living it, and taking names with every sale. "Checks is good," Dream says, munching on another finger's full of potato stix.
