Charlamagne tha God is done with the small talk

For millions of morning radio show listeners, Charlamagne tha God has evolved into one of the leading voices in pop culture.

From his days at Z93 Jamz in Charleston, S.C. to his current post as the host of Power 105.1′s The Breakfast Club, the former morning show host of Philly’s 100.3 the Beat says he has lived by an unspoken oath: to think and speak freely.

His social critiques, polarizing political stances, and unpredictable interview moments have stunned listeners, led to national headlines, and turned hour-long interviews into bite-sized viral clips.

His infamously comedic and often vicious interviews with artists like Lil Mama, Kanye West, and Post Malone have generated millions of YouTube views, and his recent observations of President Donald Trump and President Joe Biden’s electoral campaigns have taken him to The Daily Show

In his third book, Get Honest Or Die Lying: Why Small Talk Sucks, he is asking America to stop lying to itself.

In the book, set to release on May 21, Charlamagne writes from the belief that the world’s imbalances stem from a lack of meaningful conversation among people, be it our neighbors or politicians. This, he says, leads to the oversaturation of “small talk.”

“I’m not talking about the pointless chitchat people try to make when you’re at the airport or randomly standing in line somewhere. I’m talking about the small conversations people have on social media every day,” Charlamagne said. “You know it’s micro because it only lasts 12 hours. This book is a way to open up conversation with people.”

The Inquirer talked to the self-proclaimed “prince of pissing people off” about the dangers of unimaginative conversations, the balance between righteousness and “ratchetness,” and hip-hop’s role in freeing America’s intellectual chains ahead of his book release and tour stop at Green Street Friends School on May 23.

The interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity

This is another big achievement for you. How do you feel?

I feel good. It was an effortless process because what I decided to write about in this book is where my mind has been for the past few years. I just think we’re in a society where everybody likes to focus on the micros instead of the macros. And because we spend so much time talking about the micros, we have so much small talk in the world.

Is this a conclusion you arrived at recently?

I’ve never liked small talk. I’ve always wanted to have big macro conversations and discuss big ideas, even when the conversation starts with individuals. I don’t want to discuss people, I want to discuss the ideas these people are presenting. Even on the radio, you may [hear] a headline about something, but I want to talk about the broader deep dive into what it is. Like the Kendrick Lamar and Drake rap beef, I don’t just want to talk about the beef. Let’s talk about the psychological aspect of all this. Let’s talk about where this will lead people or the culture of hip-hop.

Do you think your voice is big enough to steer these kinds of conversations?

I don’t sit around thinking, ‘Oh, my voice is big.’ I just think we need to start having more macro conversations. We have to start discussing things that benefit us and help us grow as humans. I’ve been like that my whole life. I always say I’m the perfect balance between ‘ratchetness’ and righteousness, or at least that’s what I strive to be. There’s never been a time in my radio career, no matter where I’ve worked, that I didn’t have voices we could learn from on my platform. From spiritual leaders to political leaders, it doesn’t matter. I’ve always had people you could learn from.

What about people who say you’re incapable of leading ‘macro’ conversations?

That’s their opinion, and they’re entitled to their opinion. You see that a lot with the conversations we’ve been having in politics [on The Breakfast Club]. This ain’t new. The first political guest to come on The Breakfast Club was Bakari Sellers in 2014. He was running for lieutenant governor of South Carolina, so he came on to talk about his campaign. From that moment on, the ball was rolling and everyone and their mother was coming on.

When it was 2020, all the Democratic candidates were coming through. Even back then, people said, ‘Charlamagne you went too hard on Kamala Harris,’ and ‘Charlamagne you went too hard on President Biden.’ The flip side of that: ‘Charlamagne you’re too easy on Democrats. Y’all are a bunch of Democratic shills and never ask Democrats the hard questions.’

Fast forward to 2024, when it’s a large Republican field and those candidates decide they want to come up to The Breakfast Club. They’re choosing to come to our platform, and all of a sudden people have a problem with us talking about politics. You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t. And to be honest, neither one bothers me because it’s all a part of the larger conversation. It’s not going to stop me from having the conversations I want to have.

Moving on to hip-hop, is the genre and culture ready to have these ‘macro’ conversations?

Of course, and that’s why I wrote this book. One aspect of small talk is that we confine ourselves to these small echo chambers for no reason. Hip-hop has always been able to talk about these things. We used to say N.W.A was the CNN of the Hood. So the notion that hip-hop is not mature enough to listen. Says who? I guess that’s why it’s so easy for people to tell us to shut up and do what they say regarding politics. It’s probably so easy simply because maybe some of us aren’t sophisticated enough to know what’s going on politically. But I think that’s a bald-faced lie.

Was there a topic or chapter you second-guessed writing about?

Hell no. This book is about big conversations and focusing on the macros. I want [readers] to have conversations about the things I’m talking about. I’m not saying I’m right or the end all be all. I’m just sharing my experiences with the readers, and I’m hoping they get something from it.

I know your time in Philly was short, but what are some of your fondest memories of the city?

I love Philly because it’s one of the realest places on the planet. Almost everyone you meet will tell you the truth. The brothers and sisters in Philly are very honest, and I think that’s why they appreciated me while I was there. And any time I come back to Philly, it’s always love. I don’t take any of the support for granted.

At last year’s Roots Picnic, you named your top five Philly MCs. Who fills out the ranking?

I have to be objective here, so I won’t give a personal top five. I have to put Black Thought at No. 1 and Beanie Sigel at No. 2. You have to put the Fresh Prince at No. 3 — not Will Smith, the Fresh Prince. Then I’ll put Freeway at No. 4. My No. 5 coming out of Philly all-time, I want to salute the OG Schoolly D, but I feel like I got to put Young Chris at No. 5. He didn’t get his just due but Chris was very nice, and if you’re so nice that you’re influencing people like Jay-Z, that’s big.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Black-owned businesses are finding a home in Chestnut Hill

In Chestnut Hill, newly opened storefronts like Multiverse, NoName Gallery, Serenity Aesthetics & Wellness Medical Spa, and others have breathed new life into the historically affluent neighborhood known for 18th-century architecture, and a bustling commercial corridor. These businesses, owned by people of color, are servicing an evolving and increasingly diverse Chestnut Hill.

“We’ve had more than 24 businesses open in the last two years,” said Courtney O’Neill, executive director of the Chestnut Hill Business District. “The majority were African American owners, young couples, or women — and sometimes all the above.”

While 70% of Chestnut Hill residents are white, the neighborhood has seen a 7% increase in Black residents over the past decade, according to data from the U.S. Census Bureau. Black Philadelphians now make up 19% of the community, and there’s an increasing number of multicultural businesses attracting them to the Hill.

Fitness trainer Kim Harari, who moved to Chestnut Hill a year ago, said she relocated for a “homier” feel, and to find a deeper sense of community as a first-generation immigrant and queer resident.

For Harari, the growing diversity of Chestnut Hill is one of its best qualities. “If I could put a blueprint for what I wanted it to be, it’s here,” said Harari, a trainer at the Balance Chestnut Hill gym. “I never felt in place [in Center City], but [here] it’s diverse, queer-friendly, and a lot of Black-owned businesses. I love it.”

The speculative fiction bookstore Multiverse, which is owned by Sara Zia Ebrahimi-Hughes and Gralin Hughes, hosts monthly showcases for modular synthesizer artists. DanceFit studio owner Megan Kizer has led Beyoncé- and Lil John-inspired after-dark dance sessions. And NoName Gallery’s Jonene Lee has put on First Friday celebrations on the Hill.

Lee has welcomed graffiti artists, local musicians, and hip-hop DJs to her First Friday events, and said the presence of BIPOC-owned spaces and programs like hers has added much-need vibrance to the area. She feels more late-night, block party-style events is something the community has been wanting for some time.

“I’m happy that we’re bringing more color and culture here,” Lee said. “Even little old white women say they love what I’m doing, and that makes me happy.”

Lee says she knows no community is perfect. She’s dealt with “silent racism” all her life — the kind that’s felt through glaring eyes and disturbed faces rather than insults or derogatory statements. But she’s certain there’s real opportunity to grow in Chestnut Hill.

“It’s known for old money, and when you have old money, it’s white and it’s racist, I get that. But it’s not like that here. [Residents are] really open to art and culture, so I found a good spot.”

Tensions over change

While BIPOC business owners have been welcomed into Chestnut Hill in recent years, TC Unlimited Boutique owner Keia Chesson says that wasn’t always the case.

When she first opened her boutique eight years ago, Chesson was attracted to the “quaint” and walkable district, and the general ritziness of the area. At the time, there were only a few Black-owned storefronts in Chestnut Hill, and Chesson said moments of resistance from longtime residents occasionally surfaced.

“When Barack and Michelle Obama were in office, I highlighted purses and other items [with the Obamas’ faces on them] in my window, and some people didn’t like it,” said Chesson, who previously served on the board of directors for the Chestnut Hill Business Association. “Being a Black owner and supporting a Black president may not have been liked among some people [here], but for the most part, people embraced it.”

The increased diversity, O’Neill said, has brought a welcomed and organic change to the area, which has been largely “homogenous” for decades.

“It’s not just the business corridor, it’s just Chestnut Hill overall,” O’Neill said. “It’s an affluent neighborhood, but there’s a lot of affluent African Americans who have found their way here and made homes.”

Emerging unity

Beyond the rise in BIPOC-owned spaces, Will Brown of the Duke Barber Co. said there’s a real sense of unity that’s present throughout the commercial corridor. That’s why he’s kept his business in the area for 15 years, and why other entrepreneurs have gravitated there.

“We all go into each others’ businesses and support each other,” he said.

Brown said the growing diversity doesn’t mitigate the challenges businesses still face. Newly-established entrepreneurs can’t serve just one demographic to be successful — it has to be all of Chestnut Hill.

Owners like Gina Charles are up for the challenge.

Charles, the founder and medical director at Serenity Aesthetics & Wellness Medical Spa, moved her practice from Mt. Airy to Chestnut Hill in November. She wanted to find a ground-level location with greater visibility and easier access to its doors, and a space on the 8100 block of Germantown Avenue was a perfect match.

Charles is excited to see what the future holds, and for Chestnut Hill’s evolution to lead to more job opportunities, business collaborations, and networking events among all residents and patrons. “That’s a win for everyone,” Charles said.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

N.Y. State of Mind: Nas’ ‘Illmatic’ at 30

Few hip-hop albums transcend eras or withstand the disposal of one sound for another. But one body of work that’s weathered the ever-evolving terrain is Nas’ landmark debut, Illmatic.

Opening to the cascading sounds of subway train cars, screeching from one New York City rail line to the next, Illmatic draws listeners into the world of the chipped-tooth, Queens-bred MC. 

Anticipation for Nas’ debut was high. At age 20, he was three years removed from his legendary verse on the Main Source posse-cut “Live at the Barbeque,” which attracted label execs wanting to ink a deal with the promising lyricist. 

Through a connection with former 3rd Bass rapper MC Search, Sony Music’s Columbia Records managed to strike a deal with Nas in 1992. And on April 19, 1994, the poetic rhymer was crowned a prophetic child of hip-hop, one in a position to restore New York’s musical dominance.

With Dr. Dre’s The Chronic and Snoop Dogg’s 1993 classic, Doggystyle, the hip-hop mecca fell to the background for the first time. The G-funk sound was the sound of the era, and alternative acts like Souls of Mischief and the Pharcyde were strengthening the West Coast’s grip. 

New York needed a new legion of artists to spark its reemergence, and Nas’ Illmatic swung the momentum back to the East Coast. It also restored the reputation of Queensbridge, home of the fearsome Juice Crew (featuring such pioneers as MC Shan and Marley Marl), who fell to South Bronx’s KRS-One and Boogie Down Productions during the legendary “Bridge Wars” in the late ‘80s. 

Nas, inspired by the classic battle, was driven to enliven the housing project that shaped him. “I had to represent,” Nas said in a 2019 interview with Drink Champs. “The pressure was on the borough and my project. And just getting into the game, you had to have something to say, so I definitely had to push the pen hard because, if not, it would’ve never [flown].”

The 10-song LP was a memoir that chronicled Nas’ days on hardened street corners, witnessing the perils of drug abuse and street violence from a bird’s eye view. Nas’ vocal command, silk-smooth delivery, and the potency of his poetic rhymes elevated each track. 

The timeless boom-bap soundscape laid the ground for Nas, who unloaded vibrant tales of street life, declarations of lyrical supremacy, and prophecies on “It Ain’t Hard to Tell,” “Represent,” and the nostalgia-fueled “Memory Lane (Sittin’ in da Park).”

“One Love” is a soul-stirring tale of incarceration, and “Life’s a Bitch” is a celebration of life through the growing pains of adolescence. “N.Y. State of Mind” quickly became a Tri-State anthem. Nas said in the 2014 documentary Time Is Illmatic that it was strategically placed near the top of the tracklist to “bring [listeners] to hell and back.” 

The architects behind Illmatic’s sound were legendary producers like DJ Premier, Large Professor, Pete Rock, Q-Tip, and L.E.S. And while their avant-garde jazz templates, reverberating drum patterns, and mesmerizing loops were top of the line, Large Professor said they wouldn’t have the same effect without Nas’ masterful touch.

“The beats were cool,” the producer told HipHopDX in 2014. “They were good backdrops, but just the lyrics and the experience that he was putting down over those beats is why that album is heralded the way it is today.”

Following the release of Illmatic, Nas was championed as the second coming of Rakim, and the album received sweeping praise from fans and critics. The project scored a five-mic review from The Source, which was dubbed the “Bible of Hip-Hop” in the early ‘90s.

Former Hot 97 radio personality Minya Oh, who worked at The Source as an intern, was the one who penned the review under the moniker “Shortie.” In a 2014 interview with NPR, Oh talked about how the album’s vivid stories and production inspired her to award Illmatic with the rare distinction.

“Everything that I tried to analyze, I just couldn’t get away from the fact that I couldn’t find anything wrong, and that I also didn’t think it was ever gonna go away,” Oh said. “Or that I was never gonna not want to listen to this.”

The praises didn’t immediately translate to album sales. Illmatic reportedly debuted at No. 12 on the Billboard 200, only selling around 60,000 in its first week. The LP’s iconic singles also failed to scratch the charts. 

The underwhelming numbers were partly due to the album’s pre-Internet bootleg leak, which led to the album’s premature circulation. “Columbia was tripping,” Nas told Clash. “It was everywhere, months even before it was released.” 

But 30 years after its release, the album has finally earned its due. According to the Recording Industry Association fo America, Ilmmatic has sold more than two million copies, and it’s still heralded as one of the best albums of all time, regardless of genre. (Rolling Stone ranked Illmatic no. 44 on its list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time in 2020.) “I think it’s a perfect record,” Nas told Fuse in 2012. “I couldn’t say that before, but there’s so many different dynamics to it.”

Nas’ debut propelled the Grammy-winning artist to a spot he’s comfortably occupied for decades—atop the pantheon of all-time great MCs. It also helped reignite East Coast rap and set the stage for other New York artists to rise to stardom. And with each passing anniversary, Nas proves that time is truly Illmatic. 

While Nas told Billboard he no longer listens to his debut, the continued support and admiration for his work proves the immortality of classic records, no matter how much time elapses. “It means hip-hop is here to stay,” he said. “I said hip-hop was dead, and of course, the shit died, but the core of it was never touched. You can’t erase what happened.”

– SPIN Magazine

Philadelphia’s growing number of listening rooms and record bars is music to vinyl lovers’ ears

The concept behind the bar is plainly stated in a mission statement: “To Get People Together To Listen To Records.” The new cocktail lounge and vinyl listening room in Old City, the bar is modeled after Japanese bars and coffee shops known as jazz kissas, where audiophiles gather for deep listening to LPs.

“That means as many kinds of records as we can and as many kinds of people as we can,” says Joey Sweeney, the creative director of 48 Record Bar, the cozy 35-seat space above storied bar Sassafras.

The listening bar concept has been making its way around the world. It arrived in Philly in 2022 with the Listening Room, a speakeasy-like back room space at Stephen Starr’s restaurant, LMNO on the border between Kensington and Fishtown.

In Philadelphia, record stores have survived and thrived in the streaming age. Vinyl signifies an authentic, curated experience in an algorithmic culture.

WXPN-FM (88.5) brands itself as vinyl at heart. There’s a club in Center City called Vinyl that doesn’t even play vinyl — it books cover bands. Philadelphia Record Exchange in Fishtown, Upper Darby’s R&B Records, Cratediggaz Records in Queen Village, and Main Street Music in Manayunk, among others, keep the spirit of vinyl alive.

Bars like Fountain Porter and Solar Myth keep turntables spinning behind the bar, and vinyl is the focus with DJ nights at the International and the Trestle Inn, where Women’s History Month is being celebrated with a lineup of all female DJs, many drawn from the Vinyl Tap 215 collective.

And coming up on April 27 and 28, vinyl lovers can celebrate spring at Vinylcon!, a weekend-long marketplace at the 23rd Street Armory that promises “a zillion records, tons of vendors, vinyl DJs, full bar, food trucks, and more.”

Adam Porter owns Milkcrate Cafe, a record store that offers “coffee, food, booze, and wax” with locations in Fishtown and West Philly. Porter, too, has experimented with a “record bar.”

“This is a major metropolitan city, so there have to be purveyors of good taste and champions crusading for good music that people haven’t heard,” Porter said.

He stopped doing record bar nights in January, but has future plans for pop-up events. “We’re a city filled with amazing selectors and record collections, but we’re underserved as an artistic community.”

48 Record Bar opened in December after a long gestation period. Sweeney, a musician and creator of the blog Philebrity began kicking ideas around six years ago with Donal McCoy, who co-owns Sassafras and formerly the Tin Angel, the Old City folk club just down the street that closed in 2017.

The idea was to convert the upstairs storage room “into a listening room not unlike you would find in Japan but with our own take on it, that combines the legacy of cocktail culture that Sassafras represents with a really amazing sound system and well curated music. It would be unlike any other space in the city.”

Sweeney and McCoy tested the concept in pop-ups at various locations last year, and have succeeded in creating that unique space, down to the surprise sight of a comfy couch in the bathroom.

On a recent Thursday night, every seat and padded banquette was taken in the intimate room during an evening themed around British folk music of the 1960s and 1970s. Sweeney cued up LPs by Iain Matthews, John Martyn, and Richard and Linda Thompson.

In a special event, there was live music as well, with Hannah Taylor and James Everhart of the Philly band Cosmic Guilt singing Sandy Denny, Nick Drake, and Shirley Collins songs.

48 Record Bar club members can pay $12 a month, where on Wednesday nights they can bring their own LPs to play, as well as getting first crack at ticketed events. For $40, they get that plus an LP of the month to take home. This month’s selection is Eccentric Boogie, a collection of rare funk from the highly regarded Numero Group label.

Deep listening events are also part of the 48 Record Bar experience. Last month, two $15sittings on a Sunday morning sold-out, with vinyl lovers listening to OutKast rapper André 3000′s instrumental flute music album, New Blue Sun. Coffee and pastries from Center City cafe Thank You Thank You were included in the price of admission.

“That was an amazing sight,” says Sweeney. “And the music was almost creating a sound bath over folks. People were meditating, or writing, or drawing, or passing notes to one another. And as people were leaving, they were saying, ‘I’ve never been to anything like this before. Please keep doing this.’”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Philly couple who went viral for living in a storage unit wants to prove ‘homelessness is a flex’

Like many Gen Zers, Lansdale couple Leland Brown Jr. and Breanna Hubbard gave TikTok viewers a tour of their new home, hours after they moved in.

The space was just large enough to fit a twin-size mattress, a small couch, a dresser, and a wall of storage boxes. But no windows, bathroom, or kitchen. It also happened to be located inside a storage unit in North Wales.

The container was an upgrade from their previous digs, a tent in the woods of Montgomery County. Brown and Hubbard, who spent most of their days creating videos, live a “minimal lifestyle” to avoid what they call the stresses of employment and costly housing.

According to a 2022 survey conducted by Freddie Mac, a government-sponsored finance company, adults between the ages of 18 and 25 have mostly positive thoughts about homeownership. But over one-third of them say it’s outside of financial reach.

“We think it’s more beneficial for us in the long run,” Hubbard said of living outdoors. “We’re not looking at how much we make now, we’re looking to build up our businesses and to work for ourselves. We want to make our own money by sharing our life, which we’re having success with.”

A mutual friend introduced the pair in March 2022, and they have shaped their online presence and living situation in tandem ever since.

It wasn’t always meant to be so “minimal.”

Brown and Hubbard were among the 31% of Gen Z who were living at home due to high housing costs. After continued disagreements with his father, who wanted the 28-year-old TikToker to pursue a more sustainable career, Brown was kicked out of his parents’ home in Montgomery County in May 2022.

“He told me I was grown and have a son, so I needed to figure it out,” said Brown, whose 7-year-old son lives with his mother.

Brown then moved in with Hubbard, 22, who was living with her family in Hatfield. That didn’t work out, so they packed up their bags and moved to the woods in September 2022.

Brown, who had never been camping before, was excited to adopt the new lifestyle. But he quickly learned how difficult it was living outdoors. “It was a lot once we got everything settled,” Brown said. “It was crazy dealing with the animals and the cold.”

After six months, Brown and Hubbard adapted to the new living situation and decided to chronicle their journey.

In December of 2023 he posted videos that showed him taking leftover food from his job at a nearby hotel to the tent. Brown lost his job soon after — but the videos generated millions of views on TikTok and YouTube.

Around the same time, Hubbard’s mom encouraged the couple to visit a nearby U-Haul store for an occasional break from the cold, and for a place where they could edit their videos and do other “office work.” The couple saw the storage units there as an opportunity to have a low-cost home of their own, at least while they saved money for a more permanent space.

They started by taking naps inside the U-Haul store, then moved their belongings into one unit. Over time, they organized furniture and made it into a small housing quarter. They posted the three-part series on TikTok, which generated over 22 million views and made national news, with outlets like CBS News, Complex, and Yahoo News reporting on their move into the climate-controlled space.

Within days, U-Haul management asked the couple to leave.

“Residing in a self-storage unit is a violation of state and federal housing laws,” Jeff Lockridge, a spokesperson for U-Haul International wrote in an email to The Inquirer.

“I was always prepared to get kicked out because of the video,” Brown said. “I didn’t expect it to become as viral as it was, but when it did, I knew I couldn’t delete it. I was making money off of it, so we had to run with it.”

The couple stayed in a U-Haul truck for a night before moving their stuff back to the Lansdale woods.

Brown and Hubbard currently live inside a large camping tent, filled with bundled blankets, an air mattress, and a power bank to charge their electronics.

Brown, who prefers the term “house-lessness,” said tent life is less than ideal. But the independence that comes with the low-cost lifestyle, he feels, is a sacrifice worth enduring.

“I’m very educated and intelligent, and so is [Hubbard], but people tell us how to live because their perspective in life is different,” Brown said.

While Brown had asked to move back in with his parents in the past, he said he and his father have now come to an understanding. “My dad is saying [I] have to stay in the woods and make it work,” he said. “He’s trying to teach me to be strong and survive.”

His father, Leland Brown Sr., a principal engineer and director of a military and aerospace communications company, said he had his concerns, especially when Brown and Hubbard moved into the storage container. Still, “I believe Leland has been very clear this is a choice he has made and he stands on his choice,” Brown wrote in an email. “If no harm is caused to anyone, content development is a good method to share his approaches on how he wants to live his life, while allowing others to follow his journey.”

While Hubbard’s parents have invited her back home, she’s continued to say no. “I had to leave to be the best version of myself,” she said.

Since last year, the couple has monetized videos of their daily exploits. They clean up in hotel bathrooms, use rented vehicles to run DoorDash deliveries, make food in a portable grill placed in the trunk of an electric car. All the while defending their house-free lifestyle against the naysayers who comment under their posts.

The couple is enrolled in the YouTube Partner Program and TikTok’s Creator Fund, which allow certain users to monetize their videos based on views, engagements, and other metrics. Brown said they pull in roughly $750 a week from their videos.

In a February video, titled “When You’re Homeless & Not Getting a Job #genz,” Brown talked about his desire to be an entrepreneur rather than working for someone else. “I’m not getting no job,” he said in the TikTok video. “I’ve had jobs in the past, and I’ve got fired at 90% of those jobs. It’s not for me. I’m an entrepreneur, self-made, and so is [Hubbard].”

In response to the video, one TikTok user commented “if you can’t handle a 9-5, you most definitely cannot handle entrepreneurship.”

Brown and Hubbard admit negative comments often get under their skin, especially when people suggest they are faking their lifestyle or meaninglessly avoiding employment.

“I’ve been saying homelessness is a flex, and I believe that with my heart and soul because of the challenges homeless people endure,” Brown said. “People don’t understand that.”

Still, Brown says he recognizes his and Hubbard’s living situation is a lot different from many unhoused people. They are located in a relatively quiet suburb and can earn a steady flow of income from their videos. “We got very lucky,” he said. “I grew up here half of my life, so that’s a privilege.”

Tyler Greene, who has known Brown since they were in elementary school, is happy his friend is garnering attention online, but “I want him to get out of that tent,” he said.

The couple will continue living in the woods for now, but Hubbard said they intend to save money and eventually buy a tiny home before starting a family together. They currently want to purchase an RV and document van life. (A recent social media trend focuses on #vanlife, where people live out of modified vans. It’s often promoted as a bohemian way to travel and save money, but critics say it’s really “glorified homelessness.”)

Their only hurdle is a lack of payment and credit history.

In the 2022 Freddie Mac survey on homeownership, insufficient credit history and unstable employment were two of the top five obstacles preventing young adults from purchasing a home.

“We have to be more patient, live out in the woods for three or six more months, and just be more financially intelligent,” Brown said. “We’re just waiting for the right time while we live in the wilderness.”

As they continue to chase their entrepreneurial dreams, which include starting a clothing and pottery business, Hubbard said they want to change the negative perception of unhoused people through their content.

“It’s not the end of the world to be homeless or live minimally,” she said. “It’s an opportunity we have to work on ourselves.”

Erick The Architect Steps Into A New World On 'I’ve Never Been Here Before'

Rapper/producer Erick The Architect is no stranger to reinvention. 

The Brooklyn-bred MC cut his teeth over alt-East Coast beats as Erick Arc Elliot before forming psychedelic rap trio Flatbush Zombies with childhood friends Meechy Darko and Zombie Juice. But after multiple mixtapes and two albums with the group, Erick is returning to solo form and venturing into new creative ground. 

Following 2021’s Future Proof EP, Erick is embarking on new musical travels with the release of his official debut album, I’ve Never Been Here Before. Out Feb. 23, the double album explores Erick’s flowy instrumentation, poeticism, and artistry at full scale. The project is fueled by singles "Shook Up" featuring FARR and Joey Bada$$, "Ezekiel’s Wheel" with funk forefather George Clinton, and the breezy "Instincts" with Westside Boogie.

Erick says I’ve Never Been Here Before is more than a collection of catchy introspections, melodic monologues, and '90s-inspired jams. It’s the shedding of one persona — and sound — and the beginning of a new: the Mandevillain. 

"This album is an identity of a new person," Erick the Architect tells GRAMMY.com, noting that the moniker is an ode to his father’s hometown of Mandeville, Jamaica. "A lot of people may have thought there was a ceiling to what I’m capable of, but I think this album will showcase a brand new artist and identity, which is really hard to do when people think they already know you. But I really think this is unique." 

The switch isn’t just in name — he’s taken on a new approach to music, too. For the first time in years, Erick says he’s prioritizing himself and his specific musical world. "It’s the first time I have created with the headspace that I’m free," he says. "I find that other artists don’t listen to other people’s music when they’re in a creative space, but this is the most locked off I’ve been from things."

As much as I’ve Never Been Here Before signals new creative ground for Erick to fertilize, it also represents his collective efforts to limit distractions and break free of any barriers — personally and sonically. 

While it was difficult to stay so focused and inward-looking while creating his debut album, turning to some of his legendary collaborators provided some clarity. After having conversations with James Blake, George Clinton, and other artists as part of the project, Erick no longer feels forced to fit a mold or address outside criticism. 

"This album is about sacrifice, and I’ve Never Been Here Before is me being okay with losing things," he says. "I think that losing has always a negative connotation because nobody wants to lose, everybody wants to win. But it's the first time I'm losing stuff and it’s better being lost. Whether it's a habit or a person in your life, you don't need to hold everything."

I’ve Never Been Here Before lives up to its title in both theme and creation. Where Erick previously wrote songs in moments of vulnerability, the rapper says he "doesn’t feel that way anymore." 

Citing the work of Keith Haring, Miles Davis and Pablo Picasso as inspiration, Erick says he was driven to write more high-spirited songs, rather than ones tethered to struggle and hardship. As a result, the album is more accessible than some of his previous work.

"I’m tired of writing from a perspective of just being like, 'I’m sad today, bro,'" he says. "I haven’t made a project that I feel like you can just put that joint on and just play it, don’t even think about anything else because it’s commanding an energy that we all need." 

In transforming the project, the "Die 4 U" artist pieced together a blend of new and older songs he recorded five years ago. And while a double album is a "death sentence" in the eyes of most rap fans, Erick says he’s prepared for both heaps of praise and hurls of "he’s overrated" from listeners. He would feel more anxiety only if the music never came out.

"I’ve always believed that I had another special part of me that I think people didn’t witness because I didn’t put it out in the forefront," he says.

While getting a new release across the finish line can be a heavy weight to bear, Erick says he’s determined to prove his doubters wrong and own his legitimacy as a solo act. "I didn’t get lucky or sneak in here and steal beats from somebody’s laptop," Erick says. "This project is great to defeat people who have perceptions about me that are incorrect."

With the momentum of I’ve Never Been Here Before, Erick is set to test his new music and moniker on the road during his upcoming Mandevillain Tour, which kicks off in Austin on March 25.

Now that he’s fulfilling his ambitions as a solo act, the artist has a few more mediums he plans to explore – TV and film. After being a rapper/producer for more than a decade, Erick says he’s ready to take grander creative leaps.  "I’m just trying to take this to the highest caliber," he says.

– Grammy.com

The Philly artist who gets mistaken for Banksy

Susan Ferrence was in a rush on a December morning as she passed by Jefferson Plaza at 12th and Chestnut Streets. She was late for a workout session when an image stopped her in her tracks.

It was a stenciled mural of a young child, screaming while wrapped tightly in a straitjacket.

Ferrence, an art historian and director of publications at INSTAP Academic Press, took pictures of the freshly stenciled work with darkened shadows and etched grooves. She told her friends she had just spotted a Banksy.

The “Banksy” turned out to be the work of a Southwest Philly artist who goes by Bad Luck. The 33-year-old, who opts to conceal his identity, had stenciled the sketch of the screaming child on a wood-paneled wall hours before Ferrence walked by it.

The idea for the mural, he says, stemmed from a feeling of restriction, like being bound in a straitjacket. Bad Luck wanted to break free of his thoughts, like the child he drew screaming in enraged silence.

That’s how he’s always envisioned his artwork — as a cleansing of thought and emotion. But the comparison to Banksy is something he says he never imagined or wanted.

“I hate it, man,” he said. “He’s so big, talented, and clever. But if you try to do stencil work, then somehow you’re automatically biting off of Banksy. That’s how people view it.”

Philly artist Bleak, who shares an Instagram page with Bad Luck and assists him on select projects, said the comparisons are “wild.” “We admire Banksy’s work obviously, but we’re trying to be our own thing.”

Bad Luck started out as a graffiti writer before transitioning to stenciling after seeing Banksy’s work, but he wants to avoid being labeled a copycat.

“I’m inspired by him for sure, but not as much as people would like to think,” he said. “He showed me a new way to be able to create things years ago, but I try to find my own style. I try to send different messages, which is why my work can be darker.”

Since long before catching Ferrence’s attention, Bad Luck has been fascinated with the art world, but was forced to admire it from afar.

Growing up in foster care, and bouncing around group homes as a teen, the self-taught artist never attended a traditional art school. In time, Bad Luck said, art became his emotional refuge. He embraced the pain of his challenging upbringing and called himself “Bad Luck.”

If it were up to Bad Luck, he would spend most of his nights drawing on street corners and highway overpasses. But with a full-time job and a separate life as a husband and father, it can be a difficult balancing act for both him and Bleak.

“My wife has definitely expressed concern about cops and safety,” Bleak said. Thankfully, there haven’t been any real run-ins with law enforcement. The only real conflict, he says, has been between stencil and graffiti artists.

“For any art form, Philly is all about being respectful and true to yourself, but [Bad Luck and I] have received a lot of love and a lot of hate,” Bleak said. “Stencil artists don’t mix well with graffiti writers. We’ve heard some good things too, so it’s not completely sour.”

Bad Luck said he’s had graffiti artists spray over his artwork, and he has covered theirs in retaliation.

Despite the criticism and infuriating comments — including being called “Fake Banksy” — Bad Luck said his respect for graffiti artists and other Philly creatives has never wavered.

“The art in the city is unreal man,” he said. “The people here are talented with brushes and paint cans. I feel like that’s real art.” But when it comes to stenciling, he doesn’t see anyone else doing it on a large scale.

Conrad Benner, who’s covered the arts for years under his Streets Dept banner, says there are plenty of stencil artists in Philadelphia. But like many trends in the industry, some rise in popularity or grow more obscure over time. While Philly’s street art generally doesn’t have a recognizable Banksy influence, Benner said, there are definitely stenciling artists in the city other than Bad Luck and Bleak.

West Philly resident Tyquaan Bardlavens is surprised by the Banksy comparison.

Bad Luck’s ability to convey his emotions through his work is what drew in Bardlavens. And as they have become friends, he’s encouraged him to take his street art to wider audiences.

Bad Luck said he next plans to place his work in gallery spaces. He’s still figuring out how to navigate commercial art space, but above all, he wants to deliver positive messages through his creations and be known as “the stencil man.”

“It’s not about the money — I don’t want to get paid,” Bad Luck said. “I want normal people that are in the art world to see my s— on a wall and in an exhibit, and for me to get recognition. Oh, and to not get caught by the police.”

Inside The Metro-Verse: How Metro Boomin Went From Behind-The-Scenes Mastermind To Rap's Most In-Demand Producer

Metro Boomin isn’t your ordinary hero. Instead of scaling walls and flying over cityscapes, he possesses the rare ability to generate hits across a myriad of genres while remaining true to form. Like heroes in the Marvel and DC universes, the often withdrawn producer has played a not-so-quiet role in hip-hop for a decade.

For his superpowers, Metro has become one of the most in-demand sonic architects in the game. His collaborations with Future, Travis Scott, 21 Savage, Big Sean, and other big-name artists defied convention, turning Southern trap into high-performance art. Despite his reserved demeanor, Metro Boomin has been behind the board of more than 100 Billboard Hot 100 songs, including top 10 hits like the Migos’ "Bad and Boujee" and 21 Savage’s "Mr. Right Now" with Drake. 

Metro spread his heroics even further last year. He produced standout tracks on Young Thug’s Business is Business ("Oh U Went), Lil Durk’s Almost Healed (War Bout It") and other major releases, while cranking out his own viral hits – "Am I Dreaming" featuring A$AP Rocky and Roisee and "Superhero" with Chris Brown and Future. His contributions led to his nomination for Producer of the Year, Non-Classical at the 2024 GRAMMYs, and showcased his versatility as an artist. 

Thanks to Metro, and his unmistakable calling card — "If young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you" — trap's appeal has grown outside of the rap community, influencing pop and R&B. And his string of hits with the likes of The Weeknd, James Blake and Solange further proves Metro's musical wizardry. 

But on his second album, Heroes & Villains, which is nominated for Best Rap Album at the 66th GRAMMY Awards, the St. Louis native proves that he's as strong a solo act as he is an engineer of others' hits. Driven by lead single "Creepin’" featuring  21 Savage and The Weeknd, the 2022 album topped  the Billboard 200 charts and became Metro’s third project to land at No. 1 

It’s the second installment of an ongoing album trilogy, which follows 2018’s Not All Heroes Wear Capes. 

Boasting features from John Legend, Future, Chris Brown, Travis Scott, Don Toliver, and Young Thug, Heroes & Villains is the second installment of an ongoing album trilogy, which follows 2018’s Not All Heroes Wear Capes.  

According to Luminate, Heroes & Villains netted Metro his biggest opening week to date, with an estimated 185,000 equivalent albums sold in the U.S. "I didn’t see that coming," Metro told DJ Drama in January 2023. "A lot of times my stuff will grow slowly because I’ll put my time into it and people will realize, Oh, this is dope. I thought it was going to be one of those usual things … But it definitely caught me off guard." 

In a recent renaissance of soundtrack projects, the multi-platinum producer also created the soundtrack to the animated blockbuster Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Metro flexed his versatility on the 13-song project, which combined sonorous trap beats, reggaeton and Afrobeat-inspired jams, and lush pop ballads. 

Metro's success and recent GRAMMY nominations have been the result of years of Herculean feats.  Never content to follow a single sonic thread, Metro has continually expanded his reach to other genres and mediums. He’s dabbled in film and TV, producing songs for the short-lived and The Weeknd-starring HBO series "The Idol," and embraced live orchestration both in song and performance. On songs like "On Time" with John Legend, the producer amplified the grandiose record with stringed instruments, then performed the song with a live orchestra at the Dolby Theater for the Red Bull Symphonic back in November 2023.

Despite his vast production credits, Metro says he’s been unfairly labeled a "trap producer." He’s conjured pop and R&B hits, too. "I love R&B music, I love making this, love making that," he told GQ in 2022. "Why would I wanna do something that I did?" Along with producing The Weeknd’s No. 1 song "Heartless," Metro laid his hands to tracks on James Blake’s Assume Form and Solange’s When I Get Home, then later produced Coldplay’s "Let Somebody Go" featuring Selena Gomez in 2019.

Metro’s venture into solo stardom shouldn’t be a surprise either; the 30-year-old producer told Billboard he wanted to be a rapper as a teenager. "In order to do that, I needed some beats, so I started to make my own beats." At age 13, Metro took notice of artists like Soulja Boy, who also made his own beats. "It was like … it’s possible." 

Now, after years of playing the background, the man behind the blistering trap beats and rattling hi-hats is finally unmasked and fully embracing his solo artistry. There were flashes of his genre-bending genius on Not All Heroes Wear Capes, with the Offset, WizKid, and J Balvin-assisted "Only You" melding trap, Afrobeats, and reggaeton in euphoric form, but Across the Spider-Verse fully showcases Metro's musical dexterity both behind the board and in front of the mic. 

On the film’s soundtrack, the roaring orchestral sounds of "Am I Dreaming" form a transcendent exchange between A$AP Rocky and eclectic vocalist Roisee. Songs like "Hummingbird" see Metro return to his trap roots, but James Blake’s harmonious croons breathe mists of pop magic into the track. 

The hip-swaying "Silk & Cologne" and "Link Up" fuse reggaeton and Afrobeats, but "Nas Morales" is a complete step in unfamiliar territory for Metro. The unlikely collaboration between him and Nas closes out the 13-song project — Metro’s most experimental to date. 

The album Heroes & Villains is more in line with Metro’s roots, with songs like "Superhero (Heroes & Villains)" and "Niagra Falls" highlighting the producer’s darker, more mystifying trap wizardry. He also, for the first time, conjured a rollout for the project. 

Before the album’s release, Metro dropped a short film that featured cameos from Gunna, Young Thug, and actors LaKeith Stanfield and Morgan Freeman. The video, directed by Gibson Hazard, shows TV journalists (Gunna and Thug) reporting on a firetruck driver (Stanfield) setting flames to a city’s streets. Metro, overlooking the destruction alongside Morgan Freeman, decides to take action and stop the arsonist. 

Last year was a big one for Metro, but the producer isn't driven by accolades.  He wants fans to know that no amount of fame or hardware can take him away from his calling. "More than any accolades, sales, and everything, I just want people to know at the end that I cared the whole time. Every ounce of effort that I possibly could put into the art, I did," Metro told Complex.  

With a new year in full swing, Metro has already hinted at a possible hat trick in 2024. While interacting with a fan on X, formerly known as Twitter, Metro wrote, "2023 was great but just watch what I do 2024!!!!!." The fan then asked how many albums to expect, with Metro responding, "3 at the very least." 

– GRAMMY.com