“I know he’s on Wi-Fi if the message goes green,” says Bakar’s manager, while sitting in a swanky Australian restaurant in London’s proto-hipster enclave, Shoreditch. She’s on and off her iPhone, helplessly trying to figure out where her artist could be after he texted her an hour ago saying he was leaving, only to be incognito since. The issue is Bakar doesn’t have a phone, so when he isn’t connected to the Internet, he’s off the grid.
“It shouldn’t be taking him this long,” she keeps saying. “I’m trying to convince him to get a phone. A burner might have to do for days like today,” she continues, now looking up from her phone, still befuddled as to where in London Bakar could be.
When he finally does arrive, he walks in with an all black ‘fit: black hoodie, black Nike Off-White blazers, and a black beanie. He takes a seat, puts down his cracked red iPod, and orders a tea. Someone recognizes him at a table behind us. It’s hard to tell if the recognition is mutual, but Bakar nods to him.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he says as he adjusts his chair and explains his absence. He was in Paris until late the night before wrapping up a shoot for “Sober,” his new track with French producer Sebastian. He couldn't find the cafe after he took the public transport here instead of an Uber. “I gotta remain underground,” he says. “It’s where everything happens for me.”
Before he drifts back away into the London abyss, office had the opportunity to have some coffee with Bakar and chat about his balancing act.
It can be hard to find time for yourself in such a fast city like London. What are some things you do besides making music to really focus on yourself?
Maaan, that’s a really good question. Sometimes I don't. It’s that simple, but I always have an understanding that I need to.
Sometimes, you might never be alone in this city. It’s good to find time for yourself, find shit to do, but what do I do? I go to football games. I use Arsenal as almost like a therapy tank. I go to all the games for the most part, and just that ritual of going there and being with normal ass people—that’s one of my ways. And also just sitting at home or like the Tube, just being one—it sounds so Zenny. I’m on public transport, and it’s one of the last things I can hold onto and just be on there on my own.
People are always using their phones on the Tube. You don't have one so what do you do?
I just got this iPod. I’ll just listen to audiobooks and shit, or maybe I won't and just listen to myself.
What are some audiobooks you like?
Yo, I'm listening to one right now—it’s game changing: When Things Fall Apart by this lady Pema Chödrön. She’s a Buddhist and has the craziest story, and she gives these chapter teachings on mindfulness and being aware. I love all that, you know what I mean? Some of it goes over my head, but a lot of it really sticks with me.
I’ve been digging your new project, Will You Be My Yellow? It’s definitely more mellow than your first project Badkid. How are you feeling about it, and what’s the reception been like?
Oh yeah, it’s more mellow than Badkid for sure, but there are those parts on Badkid too. It’s just a different time of my life. I might have been a bit more angry, but I think Yellow is just as angsty. It’s just channeled in different ways.
But yeah, the reception has been great. In 2019, it's especially hard to gauge. I feel like people are afraid to say if they don’t like it, so you get a bunch of praise which you're grateful for, but it's just water off a duck's back. I have a core group of people whose opinions matter to me, not to say my fans’ opinions don’t matter. I just can't really read into it that much. I always want more, and it's a Catch-22.
It’s different than the kind of energy on some of your older tracks off Badkid like “4am,” that kind of coming down energy that can suddenly change by a person or a moment that makes you like your coming up again.
Well, it’s funny because “Badlands” and “4am” are like brother and sister—they’re basically meant to be set in the same club called The Box. It’s a place we would always go. The introspective part of “Badlands” is like the same world as “4am.”
It’s just that feeling of like, I’m at a party or whatever, and I’ve hit that stage of being fucked up, and I’m just like looking at it from a bird’s eye view. I don’t want to get as dramatic as saying out of body, but you have that moment when you’re just so fucked up and everyone’s having fun or whatever, or maybe not, but you just get that freeze frame moment when you’re looking at everything. You’re either like, “Fuck this is fire” or you’re like, “This is shit, what’s going on?” It’s that kind of moment, and then a flick of a switch later, it can just go crazy.
You captured that feeling well in the “Badlands” video.
I honestly thought I could’ve done that video better, but you live and you learn.
Why do you say that?
I just think I could’ve articulated that feeling a bit better.
Well, whenever I show friends your music, I show them that video...
You show ‘em that one? That track was almost the title track of the whole project. The first four bars of that song to me sum up the whole of Badkid…
“It's grim all day, we're down in the dungeons
Livin' in a town of hard times called London
Looking for a job cause your job's redundant
Fuck it all off and go to the function”
That sums up the project, and in four bars, I really think I summed up me and my friends’ reality, maybe even my generation in London: Reality is grim, it’s hard, it’s cold, you lost a job, because it’s fucked up. But you know what? Who cares? Let's go party, and forget about it.
