The Art of Becoming: O'baekey's Next Chapter

Over the past few years, O'baekey has quietly developed into one of the underground's most thoughtful voices. Since releasing Portraits while studying music production in New Orleans, the Brooklyn-based artist has approached every project less like a collection of songs and more like another chapter in an ongoing search for meaning. Drawing from Southern trap, boom bap, blog-era hip-hop, early 2000s R&B and countless other influences, O'baekey has crafted a sound that's as technically versatile as it is emotionally grounded.

His latest album, The Apple Doesn't Fall Far, is his most fully realized work to date—a record that reflects not only his evolution as a rapper, producer, and songwriter, but also his continued pursuit of understanding himself through music. We sat down with O'baekey to talk about artistic growth, moving from New Orleans to Brooklyn, the ideas behind his latest project, and what comes next.

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You’ve described your music as a way of searching for deeper meaning through sound and language. When did music start feeling like more than just expression for you, and more like exploration?

To me, music and art in general are the most powerful tools humans have for self-discovery and reflection. A good song is like a therapy session for me. When I made my first album in 2021, I had this grandiose delusion that I was the greatest rapper of all time, which I feel like you need to have as a rapper. But that album was more about me proving that I could rap than it was about exploring deeper themes about life. That changed a bit in my second album, and even more so in this new project.

Your journey from New Orleans to Brooklyn feels like a major shift both personally and creatively. How has that move influenced The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far?

I was born and raised in Connecticut, so moving back east has been a homecoming for me in a way. But after spending five to six years in New Orleans, that city started to feel more like home than anywhere else.

So moving was bittersweet. I became a man in that city, learned about myself, and made some of my longest-lasting friendships. I owe so much to New Orleans. The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far is like my last ode to the South. On “Crystal” the hook is literally “I’m in love with the filthy south”, and I interpolate Big K.R.I.T. on the verses. On “Momma” the hook is “Momma, I’m coming home; I’m not the same anymore”.

Despite coming back east, I feel like New Orleans forever changed my trajectory, and I’m eternally grateful.

Your sound pulls from so many worlds—Southern trap, boom bap, blog era rap, early R&B. How do you decide what influences belong in a track without it feeling scattered?

Honestly, I’ve always struggled with deciding what my shit should sound like and what creative direction I should go in. Because I like so many different kinds of music, I go through intense periods of wanting to make completely different things. Sometimes I feel like I don’t really have a definitive sound.

The first album was super east coast hip hop, the second one I feel like had a ton of Kanye influence, and The Apple is like the most southern thing I’ve ever done. I love all that music, so I try to make it. Sometimes it comes together cohesively and sometimes it doesn’t.

The stuff that does gets released and the other stuff sits in my hard drive until I know what to do with it.

Since Portraits in 2021, how do you feel your relationship with production has evolved as you’ve grown as an artist and studied music more deeply?

Portraits was my first project ever working directly with a producer, my friend Wyatt Pinto who I met in college. That process really showed me the beauty of locking in on an idea with someone and building a partnership. I’ll always be grateful to him for taking that on with me. After that, I wanted to diversify a little bit, so with that second album, I had a bunch of other producers on there. That process taught me how incredible it can be working with a community, and getting all kinds of different input and ideas.

But with this last project, I wanted that feeling of partnership again. I reached out to my friend and producer Kobe Holmes and told him I wanted to make one last album while I was in New Orleans, and I wanted him to fully produce it so we could make something sonically and thematically cohesive. We made TADFF together in my bedroom studio in New Orleans. The process was so gratifying, and he’s an incredible musician. The next step for me is to make a self produced tape, which is already in the works.

There’s a strong sense of intention in your work, almost like every project is asking a bigger question. What question were you trying to answer with this new album?

This album is an exploration of some hard truths I’ve had to deal with as I’ve gotten older. Everyone has heard the phrase “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” It basically means that people are prone to end up just like their parents.

My whole life growing up with my parents, and my Dad specifically, my goal was to go as far in the opposite direction that he went as I could. Not because he’s a bad guy at all, but because I saw the mistakes he made and how they affected his happiness, and I tried to learn from that. He chose financial security, but never seemed to find true happiness in his work. I chose to chase a dream, even if it meant being broke.

He dealt with a lot of unhappiness, something I never wanted to be my reality. But throughout making this album, I realized I’m so much more similar to him than I ever knew. We’re both stubborn and hard working. We’re both prone to being unhappy. We have similar vices. And I had to learn to accept that reality and work through it instead of denying it like I’d been doing. You should learn from your parents, including their mistakes.

Your writing often feels reflective and layered. Do you usually start with a concept, or do those deeper themes reveal themselves after the music comes together?

Everything starts with the first line, and goes from there. My songs are often just a manifestation of what I’m feeling at that moment, and then as I keep writing, sometimes they almost turn into like philosophical discourse. Not all the songs obviously, some are just bangers for the sake of being bangers, and those are fun too. But even those are like manifestations of me feeling like I’m the shit at that moment. I’m not great at communicating my feelings outside of music if I’m honest, so these songs become my therapy sessions. 

Brooklyn has such a rich musical history. Has being in that environment changed how you approach your craft or your expectations for yourself?

Being in Brooklyn has lit a fire under my ass. I wake up literally anxious to make shit happen, because of how fast this city moves and how great all the artists here are. I’ve met a lot of great people and am still working on making myself a staple of the amazing community that is this underground music scene.

It’s hard because I work a day job so I can’t always be at all the events, but I just want to build genuine relationships with like-minded people here. It’s amazing being around creatives.

I’ve been to SOB’s a bunch and it’s wild to think so many artists I look up to have performed there. It’s on my list for sure.

You’ve mentioned being inspired by artists like Isaiah Rashad and Mac Miller. What specifically about their approach to music resonates with you the most?

I think with Mac and Zay I fell in love with them at a young age, and so I became heavily influenced by them. I used to watch every Mac interview, the documentaries, and listen to every tape a million times. He was a ridiculous lyricist and put into words a lot of feelings I couldn’t articulate at that age. His positivity as a person, along with his introspection and honesty about his vices, was and still is so inspiring to me.

He was genuine and authentic and beloved by the community, things I really strive for. As for Zay, the way he’s able to match his lyricism to his production just has a stranglehold on me. He creates these moods with his songs that I just fall into.

His ability to capture the feeling of nostalgia perfectly is insane. I also think they’re both just super introspective, and their music makes you think, something I always want with my music.

As someone who treats music almost like research or self-discovery, what’s something you learned about yourself while making this album that surprised you?

As I said before, this album taught me that I’m a lot more like my Dad than I thought I was, for better and worse and everything in between. I also learned that I don’t have as much control over my vices and flaws as I thought I did. I turn 25 next week, and I still have a ton of growing and learning to do. I guess that’s how life goes. You figure out who you are more and more every day.

Now that The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far is out, what does “success” look like for you in this next chapter—creatively, personally, or professionally?

Success to me is just making something that people can relate to, and then getting them to hear it. I’m a cook, and I love making food. I think of music a lot like cooking. You can make a plate and eat it yourself and be like “Fuck yeah, I made that plate and it was delicious and I enjoyed it.” But it will never be as fulfilling as cooking for a group of people and sharing what you made.

Music is the same way. I can make a song and love it and be proud of it myself, but I want to share the feeling it gives me with as many other people as I can. Hopefully by the end of this year I’ve played a lot of shows, put out another project, and reached more people.

I feel like this shit is good and good for you, and I want to share that with as many people as I can.


Huge thank you to O’baekey for the interview opportunity and inviting us into his mind and the process behind his latest work. Make sure you’re following O’baekey on Instagram @obaekey to stay locked in with the next release. And if you’re an artist interested in being featured, follow Nefarious Supply on Instagram (@nefarioussupply) and submit your music here.

Who’s Next: Six Artists Nefarious Supply Is Watching Right Now - June 2026

Who’s Next is our quick monthly check in: six artists we’re actively watching right now, picked from real listening, not internet temperature checks. It is less about declaring who is next up and more about keeping a record of who keeps earning our attention in real time.

It’s also our running shortlist: a place to document the names we keep coming back to before the story gets explained for us. Not a forecast. Not a co sign. Not a trend report. Just six artists who’ve been holding weight in our rotation and feel like they’re building toward something real.

Different sounds, different scenes, same throughline: identity, discipline, and worlds that feel authored instead of assembled. The kind of work that reads like a catalog in progress, not a moment, and gives us enough to keep watching without pretending the whole story has already been written.

 

Photo courtesy of ihateyouALX.

ihateyouALX

ihateyouALX makes music like somebody who’s already in control of the room. The bounce is immediate, but it’s not careless the records are engineered. Rap instincts, dance posture, house swing, alt textures, all moving under one name stamp that keeps getting cleaner with each release. The biggest tell is intent. A lot of artists can make “fun” records; fewer can make them feel built. ALX’s best songs carry structure: a hook that does real work, a tempo that stays disciplined, and production choices that feel like decisions instead of presets. The music reads like someone who understands that energy isn’t just volume, it’s pacing.

The other signal is how hands on the world is. The looschnge. ecosystem doesn’t read like branding layered on after the fact; it reads like a small world around the music, a place where visuals, streams, project links, and short-form philosophy all sit under the same identity. ALX has said the video is “the final word” the thing that locks the feeling into your memory so you can’t hear the song again without seeing the scene. That kind of thinking is rare at this level, and it shows: the releases feel authored, not posted.

And looschnge. isn’t positioned like a merch tag. It reads like a studio in progress: a broader universe (run with family) where music, film, and design are meant to sit next to each other. ALX’s version of “world building” is literal: a colorful space where creativity is treated like a rule breaking exercise, and the philosophy is simple don’t take yourself too serious, even when the work is.

That philosophy is sitting inside the music too. The last checkpoint before the “KTPL.” EP is the new single, “keep the party lit.” a record built on contrast: a beat that moves like celebration, with lyrics that are basically instruction. The hook isn’t about the party; it’s about momentum. Keep going. Keep the dream alive. The record started the unglamorous way a lot of real songs start: ALX and Nick Reed digging through a beat pack from their Spain based producer, then ALX getting pulled in even when they weren’t planning to record.

Even the details reinforce the point. ALX’s favorite moment is the intro: the open mic, the laughter, the real time figuring it out because it sets the tone: light on the surface, serious underneath, and human all the way through.

What we’re watching for next is the “KTPL.” EP era to land publicly with full clarity release date, visual cadence, and the moment the wider conversation catches up to what the catalog’s already been telegraphing.

 

Photo courtesy of Burgundy / No Diploma Records.

Burgundy

Burgundy’s best records live in the in between: soft edged, melodic, and constantly shifting without losing the emotional center. The writing stays restrained on purpose. Atmosphere does the heavy lifting, and the details are what keep you coming back. Their own definition is blunt: music “in between genres,” free to expand in any direction and the only thing they don’t want people to assume is that the sound will stay the same.

Part of what’s made the run feel credible is the real world motion around it. Burgundy has been framed by No Diploma Records as a warm summer single artist Jordan Ward / Dijon / Roy Blair adjacency but the catalog holds up beyond a reference list. There’s press side validation too (SOCAN “Five Rising Stars of Quebec R&B & Soul to Watch in 2025”), plus the kind of offline traction that matters: rooms, festivals, and a community that shows up.

The core is Montreal, but the real influence is pace. Burgundy talks about writing with the seasons: winter pulls the songs inward, summer pushes the energy up. And the arc has been steady: early guitar “skeletons” turned into real releases once the feedback hit, then a sequence of “this is real” moments (a first single popping off, a management deal in LA, the first real video) that eventually became something more stable a team with a long term plan.

If you want the thesis in one record, it’s “Marathon.” Written in the middle of a long distance relationship, 70 hour work weeks, and a rollout happening at the same time, the song’s motion comes from a real life sprint. The melody landed mid shift at a Thai restaurant, got saved as a bathroom voice note, then got refined across cities (Montreal → Melbourne → back home) with Oclair and Mathias Clerc. They describe the goal as “textures and dynamics” acoustic warmth married to electronic space and it plays like that: hopeful, slightly frantic, and built for the moment where life starts looking up.

What we’re watching for next is the single to EP runway specifically the softer, more accessible side they’ve hinted at on the next release, and how that opens the door into the Asterisk EP without sanding down what makes Burgundy feel precise.

 

Photo courtesy of Chris Chand.

Chris Chand

Chris Chand’s “FOREVER’S A PLACE” is the kind of record that tells you a lot without trying to. Classic touch, modern frame an 80s alt R&B sensibility in the DNA, but not as nostalgia, more like craft. The hook lands clean, the emotion is direct, and the whole thing feels like the start of a catalog, not a one off.

On Spotify, it reads like an artist in a quiet streak: “FOREVER’S A PLACE” sits as the current artist pick and latest release, following a run of singles that keep the tone consistent while widening the color palette “INSIDE THE MOMENT” (2026), “SLOW BLOOM” (2026), and “LOWTIDE” (2026), with earlier signals like “TRUMAN SHOW” (2025) and “dancing like no one’s watching” (2025) showing the same patience in the writing.

The foundation is songwriting first. “If forever is a place, I’ll meet you there” is a simple line, but it lands like someone who understands restraint how to say the whole thing without over explaining. And it fits the larger Chand pattern we’ve seen on the platform: an artist who’s never moved like a trend chaser. The throughline has been feeling, then craft letting the sound widen over time without losing the emotional center.

Chris is also not new to Nefarious Supply. We first tapped in back in 2021, when he talked about growing up in a musical household in Pickering, cutting his teeth in Toronto’s independent scene, and learning to produce and record from his bedroom. Since then, we’ve watched the work stretch across different eras and identities including him stepping into our world as a host (NS Radio Episode 008, 2023). That history matters: it’s proof of intent and patience, not a random spike.

That continuity is part of why “FOREVER’S A PLACE” lands. It doesn’t sound like a pivot; it sounds like an artist tightening the same instinct. Even when Chris moves across genres and textures, the decision making is consistent: he follows a feeling first, then builds the song around it no rush to box it in.

What we’re watching for next is consistency and identity: more releases that deepen the palette beyond this single, and a clearer visual + narrative language around the voice and the world the songs are meant to live in.

 

Photo courtesy of Pat Williams.

Pat Williams

Pat Williams is operating at album scale even when the release is one track at a time. The production is meticulous “math to create the magic” but the bigger tell is intention: everything is built to document specific, intimate moments, and he keeps the frame wide enough to hold the chaos and the line that cuts through it. He referenced Everything Everywhere All at Once as a blueprint: a story that uses “everything” to set up one small sentence that people carry with them. That’s the Pat approach lush environments and detailed construction, in service of a human moment that lands clean.

When he says the work is “unbound by classification,” it’s not branding it’s a boundary. He’s clear that the games aren’t for him, and that anything that waters down expression gets cut off quickly. The process is fluid on purpose: sometimes the music sparks the feeling, sometimes the feeling dictates the music but either way the goal is to challenge both himself and the listener, not just deliver another verse. The heavy lifting happens in the rebuild: strip it down, piece it back together, and keep reshaping until the record equates to the right message.

That obsession with duality is the engine. Pat wants to show ego and sensitivity in the same song; braggadocio can sit beside gentleness without canceling it out. He even writes from angles he doesn’t fully agree with when it tells a fuller truth he pointed to “PRIDE” (from IN CASE I DON’T SEE YOU) as a moment of absorbing someone else’s perspective to widen the story. On “Tongue Tied,” the tension is two people entering something new, both guarded; the song’s turning point came when LOR’s vocals added the missing softness, not just an accessory, but the second side of the narrative. From there, he spent a day arranging dozens of takes while the production team added keys and detail.

The next chapter is the debut album, THE KIDS WILL BE FINE, a relationship with the inner child, the world, and shedding old skin. He describes it as a “melting pot” of influences: live instrumentation and jazz, but with a 2026 spin; jarring confidence with real sensibility; and the deliberate act of breaking things apart and rebuilding until the purest feeling remains. What we’re watching for next is that full arrival: a rollout that treats the record like the world it is inviting (track one is literally “Let’s be friends”), gradually deepening, and closing the loop with something conversational that brings the title’s comfort back into focus.

 

Photo courtesy of Rosabell.

Rosabell

Rosabell’s music starts from a place that feels almost private before it opens up. The first spark is usually the chords, a progression that hits with enough feeling to pull the rest of the song into focus. From there, the voice does the real translating: melody first, emotion underneath, and harmonies stacked with pop precision without losing the warmth of R&B. That’s the Rosabell twist. You can hear the pop in the R&B and the R&B in the pop; neither side works without the other.

The world around the music matters too. Rosabell describes herself as a Nigerian-Canadian Pop/R&B artist with a love for pop music, a dream of dancing and singing on big stages, and a band beneath pink lights. That image is specific for a reason. The pink, the flowers, the softness, the performance vision, it all ties back to a childlike, whimsical part of her that she once tried to grow out of, then realized was central to why she creates at all. The result is music that doesn’t treat softness like decoration. It treats it like identity.

There’s also real growth in the release arc. Early songs like “Gifted” came from a more DIY, vault-clearing place: an artist wanting the music out and learning by doing. But the shift after joining Remix in 2025 gave the work more community, collaboration, and confidence. “Patience” became the most personal checkpoint because it forced Rosabell to confront insecurity around her identity as an artist and trust her instincts again. “Breeze,” meanwhile, feels like the best entry point into the world: warm guitars, tropical summer energy, and a calm, grounded, drama-free feeling that still carries intention.

What makes Rosabell worth watching is the way the emotional thesis keeps sharpening. Her core listener is someone learning to choose themselves and bloom into who they’re meant to become. The broader era is built around flowers, growth, and self-love, not as slogans, but as a framework for the songs, visuals, and story to eventually work together. What we’re watching for next is that fuller world to lock in: more records that deepen the bloom, stronger visual language around the pink-lights stage vision, and the moment Rosabell starts reading less like a promising voice and more like an artist with a clearer universe forming around her.

 

Photo courtesy of SincerelyChico.

SincerelyChico

SincerelyChico moves with the instincts of someone who has spent time studying eras, not just sounds. The New Jersey artist and producer frames his origin through timing: born at the edge of the 90s, raised inside the 2000s, and shaped by everything from C.L. Smooth and Pete Rock to Kanye, Jay, Pharrell, Drake, Kendrick, Cole, Travis, the SoundCloud wave, and the smoother pockets of Larry June and Cardo. That range matters because it shows up less like a reference list and more like a working vocabulary. Chico’s music carries an old-school respect for feel, but it is not stuck in revival mode. It is trying to build forward from memory.

The artist-producer balance is part of the signal. Chico says he wanted to be an artist first, but early on, production felt safer. He could let other people take the spotlight as long as the beats still spoke for him. Now the work is about building the same confidence in his voice that he once had to build behind the boards. That tension gives MAIN INGREDIENTS its center: an artist learning how to step further into the frame without losing the producer’s ear for structure, texture, and feel.

The EP itself is framed like two creatives bringing their respective recipes together. Chico and Saint Nxva first connected through Big Jozy in 2021, bonded over samples and hard drums, and eventually found the chemistry that shaped the project. Letting another producer handle the sound was a real risk for Chico because it meant trusting someone else with a world that still had to feel like his. The risk paid off because the EP does not read like a compromise. It reads like a shared pocket, built from confidence, instinct, and a clear sense of what each person brings to the table.

There is a clear regional pulse in the work too. Chico points to Jersey’s creative communities, from Darkside to Jamm Gallery, as part of the environment shaping him. That matters because the music does not feel like it is chasing a detached internet identity. It feels connected to scenes, rooms, and people. “STEALIN’ SWAG” is the immediate checkpoint: a record sparked by Chico’s frustration with copy-paste creativity and his belief that even when nothing is fully new, artists still have to put their own DNA into the work. “2 WEEK NOTICE” shows the other side of that mission, turning work frustration into an anthem about control, release, and knowing when you are ready to walk away.

What makes Chico worth watching is the integrity behind the build. He talks about wanting more care in music, not because every song has to be overly serious, but because anything can matter for 40 days or 40 years if it is made with enough intention. What we’re watching for next is how the world of SincerelyChico keeps expanding after MAIN INGREDIENTS: more singles, more EPs, more visual context, and a clearer bridge between the producer brain and the artist identity.

Thanks for spending time with this month’s Who’s Next. This series is meant to be a living record of what we’re hearing, who we’re returning to, and where our attention is going before the wider conversation catches up.

We’ll keep using this space to document artists with identity, discipline, and motion, not as predictions, but as notes from inside the listening. If one of these names stays with you, follow the thread. Listen closer. That’s where the real discovery starts.

If you are an artist building something with care, send it through. Submit your music here: Make Your Mark.

XTC — Underground Frequencies // Vol. 001

Editor’s Letter

XTC — Underground Frequencies // Vol. 001 is our first attempt at treating a playlist like a finished piece of editorial: a two hour, front to back listen built from underground artists we actually live with, sequenced with the discipline of a DJ set.

How to listen

  • Start at Track 1. No shuffle.

  • Treat it like radio. The handoffs matter.

  • Best in motion. Headphones or a late drive.

Nefarious Supply started in 2018 as a simple response: the charts can be loud, but they’re never the whole story. We built this platform to spotlight the underground records and artists that grabbed our attention before there was a machine behind them because the underground isn’t a waiting room. It’s where the future gets written first. We’ve had our starts and stops with consistency, but the thesis hasn’t changed: while mainstream names dominate the moment, the true gems the next movers and shakers are often underground artists building real worlds in real time, long before the spotlight catches up.

XTC is our way of treating listening like a craft again: less “here’s what’s hot” and more “here’s what’s been living with us.” More than a playlist, this is our way of proving the thesis we’ve been standing on since day one: the future movers and shakers are already here, building in the underground—our job is to put a real spotlight on them early, with taste and context.

This is also a listening piece in the literal sense. Volume I was sequenced the way you’d sequence a set: not “underground for the sake of underground,” but artists we actually live with, stitched together so the handoffs feel natural and the quality never dips.

Volume I is the first entry in what we hope becomes an episodic feature on the platform, released with a focus on quality over quantity. It’s a mix of artists who’ve either been consistently grabbing our attention lately, or have already had a real footprint on the platform.

Some of these names are already part of our history, which is exactly why they matter here: they’re proof that the underground isn’t a phase it’s the first draft of what everybody else will eventually call “next.” We caught Lango early (2019), when the conversation was less about positioning and more about identity, risk, and effort the kind of mindset that refuses to treat art like it’s disposable. We checked in with THREE65 (2020) right as the catalog started turning into a body of work—projects used to get things off the chest, and a clear preference for resolution over noise.

In Volume I, the clearest proof of that thesis is Scotty Apex—an artist we first tapped in with years ago, who’s kept evolving ever since: stronger structure, sharper world-building, and a catalog that’s become harder to ignore with every release. Across our Scotty Apex coverage (2019, 2021, 2023), we’ve watched the arc sharpen in real time: raw emotion turning into structure, structure turning into world-building, and world-building into a body of work that keeps raising the ceiling.

We first tapped in back in 2019, when Scotty was 22, describing themself as an outcast who used music as an escape and wanted the work to be that same escape for other people. The writing was raw, emotion-forward, and intentionally unpolished. By 2021 (STARLIGHT), the world expanded. Scotty framed albums as “cinematic” versions of real life, a new chapter built from real-time experiences, and a two-year stretch of growth—moving through uncertainty while sharpening structure, vulnerability, and storytelling. By 2023 (DATA BEND), the craft got even more deliberate: genre-bending as a philosophy, world-building through contrast (nature + technology), and a more focused creative circle executing bigger ideas with clearer direction.

And now, as Nefarious Supply has grown and time has passed, Scotty is still one of the clearest examples of what we’ve always been betting on: an artist who hasn’t just stayed consistent with releases, but has kept leveling up in development—stronger songwriting and structure, tighter execution, and a universe that feels more lived-in with every project. That’s why Scotty was one of the first artists we chose to anchor Volume I: over years of watching the output stack up, it’s become clear the consistency isn’t a fluke—it’s the mark of real talent, sharpened in public. And with the arrival of Hotel Mirage, that thesis gets louder: not just more music, but better music, built like a world you can step into.

 

The Listening Experience

I sequenced Volume I the way I’d sequence a DJ set, with the same kind of patience and pacing you get from a radio hour that’s been edited down to the essentials. If Soulection and ClubCarter Radio are reference points, it’s because they treat cohesion like a standard, not a happy accident. The goal is a true front to back listen: roughly two hours, uninterrupted, with the energy moving but the palette staying coherent.

Set moments (the handoffs)

  • Scotty’s “JUST US HERE” sets the rules early. After that, the pacing can quicken without feeling scattered.

  • The handoff from BashfortheWorld to Mathaius Young tightens the posture. Same clean drums, more forward motion.

  • The Scotty run is the center of gravity. “MY TYPE OF CRAZY” into “MIRAGE” makes the set feel focused without turning it into a loop.

  • Burgundy carries the comedown without dropping the temperature. The last stretch lands like an ending, not an exit.

 

Featured Artist Spotlights

 

Scotty Apex

Scotty Apex is our headliner because the work doesn’t just arrive—it accumulates. Even when the tempo changes, there’s a throughline: melody-first records that still hit like rap, emotion that stays front-facing, and a sense of setting that makes each release feel like a new room in the same house. The progression has been public, but never messy—more control in the writing, more intention in the structure, and a sharper visual language around the music.

Hotel Mirage is the cleanest expression of that discipline. It plays like an engineered escape hatch: bright enough to move to, detailed enough to live with, and built with the kind of repeatable structure that separates a “run” from a real catalog. On Volume I, Scotty isn’t sprinkled for familiarity—they’re sequenced like chapters. “JUST US HERE” opens the door, “MY TYPE OF CRAZY” and “MIRAGE” raise the ceiling, and by the time you reach “SOMETHING I CAN FEEL” and “ANSWER,” the ending feels authored, not accidental.

 

Burgundy

Burgundy’s records live in the in-between: soft-edged, melodic, and constantly shifting—music that can hold a room without raising its voice. The catalog moves like seasons, and the best songs feel textured rather than stacked: acoustic warmth braided into electronic space, hooks that land like a thought you didn’t mean to say out loud. Recent releases and singles (including “Proud” and “BLOOD/INK”) underline that focus on mood and detail: songs that feel finished, but never overworked.

What makes Burgundy a fit for Volume I is how intentional the world is. The writing doesn’t chase shock value; it lets atmosphere do the heavy lifting, then uses melody to keep the listener close. In conversation, Burgundy has described the project as something that’s meant to stay fluid—never locked into one sound—and rooted in a real, lived pace of life: long weeks, travel, seasons changing, and songs built from small moments that get saved before they disappear. That’s exactly the kind of craftsmanship XTC is built to reward.

On this volume, Burgundy functions as the emotional temperature change—pulling the playlist toward reflection without breaking the pace. Key moments here: “Proud,” “BLOOD/INK,” “More wine?,” and “Earl grey.”

 

ihateyouALX

ihateyouALX is a reminder that “party music” doesn’t have to be empty. The sound pulls from rap, dance, and house, but the center is always personality: rhythm as language, bounce as discipline, and hooks that can carry a message without making a speech. The origin story has always read as hands-on: early profiles framed the project as DIY and self-taught, built with curiosity, free tools, and a willingness to learn the technical side (production, recording, engineering) instead of outsourcing the details. That background still shows up in the way the songs move bright on the surface, intentional underneath.

In conversation, ALX frames the world like a room you can step into: colorful, creative, and built to make listeners feel free like the rules were meant to be broken. The mission isn’t to hide the message; it’s to let it travel in the rhythm. “keep the party lit.” is the clearest example on Volume I: a celebration record with real stakes, where the hook reads as energy but the intent reads as persistence—keep going, keep the dream alive. And that contrast is exactly why it earns its placement here: it keeps the set moving while quietly underlining what this series is trying to document—artists building worlds with craft, not just noise.

 

Rosabell

Rosabell brings a different kind of brightness to Volume I: Nigerian-Canadian pop/R&B built on melody first, then emotional precision the kind of writing that turns a private feeling into something you can actually sing back. The music starts where Rosabell says it always starts: chords. A progression hits, the emotion follows, and the voice does the rest stacked harmonies that nod to pop discipline but still carry R&B weight. There’s a clear “pink lights” stage vision behind the work, but it isn’t just aesthetic; it’s a world designed for people who are still learning how to choose themselves.

“Breeze” is the entry point we wanted here: warm guitars, tropical-summer ease, and a calm, grounded energy that cuts through the set without breaking its momentum. It’s the kind of record that feels drama-free on purpose—built to hold you steady, not pull you under—and it quietly reinforces the broader point of XTC: the underground isn’t only intensity. It’s also softness, craft, and artists building a real home inside the song.

Mathaius Young

Mathaius Young brings a different kind of gravity: clean writing, producer-level detail, and songs that feel designed to sit in sequence instead of fighting for attention. The backstory matters here an artist who came up on the technical side, learning the craft obsessively, then stepping into bigger rooms without losing the hands-on instinct. Recent profiles place Mathaius as an Indianapolis-born producer/artist who’s spent years in Los Angeles, with a career shaped early by Sonny Digital’s mentorship and credits that stretch across hip-hop and R&B. If Volume I is about the future being written in real time, Mathaius is one of the clearest examples of how that future sounds when it’s engineered as carefully as it’s felt. The Mathaius picks we’re running here are pulled from the new album run—records that show the writing and the production moving with the same intent. Key moments here: “WHATS YO STATUS,” “MARGIELA,” “TIL THA MORNING,” “201 Interlude,” and “Hold You Close.”

 

SincerelyChico

SincerelyChico moves like a builder an artist-producer who treats the record like the unit, not just the verse. Coming out of New Jersey with a cinematic, “feel good” sensibility, the work leans on intentionality: each song is meant to hold a scene, not just fill space. The MAIN INGREDIENTS EP (with Saint Nxva) put that approach on display, and the live resume—showcases and festival sets—suggests this music is meant to translate off the screen.

On Volume I, “TABLE MANNERS” lands as a closing statement: crisp, confident, and built to hit with a little more weight than the runtime suggests. It’s the kind of record that makes the case for why XTC exists in the first place—artists who can write, produce, and perform with intention, without waiting for a bigger machine to tell them it counts.

 

Closing

Volume I is the standard we want to hold ourselves to: taste, yes, but also editing. Not just good songs, but a two hour listen that holds together, where the handoffs are intentional and the focus stays on the music, not the skip button. If XTC becomes episodic, it will be by design. No filler, no obligation to publish on a schedule, and no compromise on cohesion. The underground deserves that level of care.

 

SoundSubterra Sessions - Ayush

AYUSH is a producer and musician whose work is guided by one core instinct: curiosity. That curiosity shows up not just in the range of references Bollywood melody, jazz vocabulary, Grateful Dead spontaneity, years of classical training but in the way they treat those influences as tools rather than costumes. AYUSH moves between styles because the point is learning: connecting the dots between disciplines, borrowing a philosophy from one world and a technique from another, then letting it all filter through a personal sense of “what feels real.” The emotional North Star is uplift and challenge at the same time music that invites you in, then nudges you to look closer, notice more, and stay open.

HIs latest track, “constellations,” is both a love song and a mood: stargazing turned into a narrative about what changes when beauty is shared. For AYUSH, songs become real about a week after they’re made the moment a demo survives everyday life, like a replay in the car that still hits, still feels potent, still feels authentic enough to finish. “constellations” sparked quickly in that way, and its title is intentionally timeless: a simple symbol that’s been reflecting shared awe throughout history. The scene is clear and specific—late at night, when you should be asleep, outside in pleasant weather under an open sky two people huddling together for warmth and looking up, letting the world change shape in the quiet.

That atmosphere is reflected in the record’s blue–purple–pink palette: warm, expansive, quietly cinematic. Even the construction mirrors the concept. AYUSH often starts with drums—once a weak point, now a foundation—because if the groove feels solid, everything else can unfold naturally. From there, “constellations” grew from a stock Logic synth that created the bounce, a bass line that locked the motion in place, and melodies freestyled until a thread appeared worth pulling. Along the way, specific inspirations are audible: Steely Dan–leaning horn arrangements (a nod to the color and phrasing of “Deacon Blues”), funk groove DNA from Zapp’s “Dance Floor” (slowed down into AYUSH’s pocket), and the remembered textures of Neon Indian’s “Polish Girl” shaping synth choices and sound design almost subconsciously. Finishing the track came down to two decisive choices: bringing stems through pedals and tape with a friend to breathe life into the production, and shortening the outro to preserve the peace of the moment—long enough to exhale, not so long it drifts away.

That same idea—songs that expand the sky—becomes the thesis of the artist-hosted playlist built around the release: music you can stargaze to, preferably with someone else. “With someone else” isn’t a tagline; it’s the point. AYUSH’s worldview in “constellations” is that beauty dulls when it isn’t witnessed together, and that love (of a person, of the world, of the act of noticing) is what gives color its saturation. The playlist is curated to live in that same spectrum and to share the same kind of depth: tracks that feel spacious, thought-provoking, and emotionally open. Anchor picks like Toro y Moi’s “Girl Like You” (lively piano and arrangement in a familiar shade of blue), M83’s “Outro” (a slow-burn into triumph streaked with purple, made even more striking by near-silence and ambient winds), and Khruangbin’s “Two Fish and an Elephant” (simple, direct, contemplative—an ideal stargazing track with blues and purples that echo the record’s glow) don’t just sit next to AYUSH; they map the emotional coordinates that “constellations” is pointing toward.

In the larger arc of what’s next, “constellations” is the opening scene: the first step into an upcoming EP that moves through different worlds and genres while staying tied together by texture, sound design, and dynamics meant to be felt as much as heard. The goal is that after someone lives in the playlist’s universe and returns to the song, they notice the details more—the way the drums breathe, the way the horns frame the sky, the way the outro chooses restraint, the way the mix carries an arc like a film. It’s music built on connection: between influences, between moments, and—most importantly—between people looking up at the same night.

No Outside Validation: Inside jev.’s New Chapter

If you’ve been following jev. through Nefarious Supply, you’ve watched the story unfold in chapters: the early work that felt like a diary, the transitional weight of The Color Grey, and the way lonrwrld functioned as an introduction—sonically and aesthetically to a bigger world. Now, we’re checking back in at the exact point where momentum starts asking harder questions.

This conversation isn’t a recap it’s an update on mindset, discipline, and what jev. is protecting as everything accelerates. Call it a temperature check before the next release turns the page.

Take us to a recent moment that captures where your life is right now (studio, soundcheck, hotel room, drive, a message you got). What happened, and why did it stick with you?

It was in London when I was on tour, I had a studio session with an amazing accomplished producer and he told me something that really stuck with me, he said “don’t ever stop being hungry”. I did 2 tours in one month and I was exhausted and ready to go home but that message stuck with me and ultimately reignited the fire and passion I have for this music thing.

In our earlier NS interviews you described yourself as “a creative at heart” beyond rap. In 2026, what parts of that definition are clearer, and what parts have changed?

I’ve been learning how to write scripts. I realized my love for art or creativity comes down to storytelling, that's why I love music so much, it's the story and how they put it together. Creating something from scratch is my passion. I want to maximize my creativity on this earth, so whatever sparks my interest, I'm going to dive in head first.

DRC, South Africa, Canada: give one concrete example for each of how the place shows up in your music today (rhythm, melody, language, pacing, textures, or even how you tell stories).

I think with DRC because that's my origin I look at it more for inspiration , “you have to know where you come from to know where you are going” . Whereas South Africa is where I my love for rap and music was birth, a big lesson living in SA taught me is that music is a universal language and that made me pay more attention to melodies, rhythm and everything in between , Canada is my stomping ground , i perfected my craft there and became the artist i am today.

Untitled 01: you once called it a diary from your high school years. What is one song from that project that still feels emotionally true today, and one you have outgrown?

Honestly every song on there are still emotionally relevant to me , those songs are the reason why i keep going, everytime i listen to them i’m transported to my childhood bedroom when i was making them and remember how much love and passion i had for music

What did making music in that era (bedroom recordings, phone vocals, learning from scratch) give you that you are careful not to lose now?

It gave me trust and belief. My rule for every artist, TRUST YOUR TASTE. I was alone making those songs and didn’t have anybody to be like “nah, that's wack” so i would love the songs and upload them. There was no second guessing, just love and execution. Its something i try and continue today by minimizing the time from creation and execution and the amount of ears get to hear it before its out to the public

The Color Grey is built around transitional periods and the grey area between them. Looking back now, what transition were you personally in when the concept clicked, and what do you think you were really documenting?

The concept clicked literally 2 weeks before the tape dropped. All the writing I was doing was subconscious and it was really just how I felt at the time dealing with work, school, family life, and just being a young man in your early 20’s. I was making songs in hopes it would be a project eventually. At first I was gonna call it “little boy blues” or “untitled 2” but as the concept began to come to me about the transitional periods and the grey area between them, it clicked!

“Where’s The Confetti” captured the feeling of gaining momentum without feeling celebrated. Since that record, what has changed in your relationship to support, community, and who you let close?

I now understand I have to be my biggest cheerleader, even if nobody is , I constantly have to be the one waving my flag. However my community has grown and my support system is thriving. I have a small circle that shows me love and really appreciates what I'm trying to do . I’ve learned its the quality of people and not the quantity

lonrwrld was framed as “an introduction to my world, sonically and aesthetically,” and you said you doubled down on brand and image with new eyes on you. What does brand mean to you in real terms today (visuals, videos, wardrobe, language, pacing), and what is non-negotiable?

I have a simple answer , whether it's wardrobe, visuals, or language. Trust your Taste and vision, nobody knows what's right for you more than you

Opening for Clipse: describe one night on that run that changed how you think about performance, presence, or what a “real room” feels like. What did you learn watching from side stage?

It was the Paris night, I was watching them on stage and was in awe because of how seasoned and comfortable they were on stage and their level of stage presence. It made me step up my game even more, it also taught me so much about songwriting, especially hooks, they have such well written songs with hooks that the crowd can sing back!

Your own headline tour: what did carrying your own show teach you about your audience, and what was the hardest part (logistics, stamina, nerves, vocals, crowd energy)?

The hardest part was the logistics, i didn’t have a tour manager, so i was doing it myself and then going on stage, it was taxing for sure. The best part was that the fans showed up every night and showed me so much love, it taught me that I actually have people that live with my music day in, day out and they are rooting for me . I need to go harder for them

The Justin Bieber co-sign: what changed in the next 48 hours (messages, opportunities, pressure), and what did not change at all?

Just a lot of love from the fans and people that have been rooting for me

You’ve talked about mental challenges (is it good enough, will I make it) and not seeking outside validation. What does your mental maintenance look like now (routines, boundaries, who you keep close), especially when things move fast?

I’ve developed a routine that keeps me in check . You really have to parent yourself (innerchild), and that's what I do.

Centering the new music coming in Q2: what is the emotional through-line of this next run, what are you experimenting with (lyrically and sonically), and what do you want it to change about the jev. conversation?

It's not about the jev. conversation , it's about getting jev. in the conversation.


Huge thank you to jev. for tapping back in with us and giving Nefarious Supply another honest temperature check as everything keeps accelerating. Make sure you’re following jev. on Instagram @thelonerjev to stay locked in with the next run. And if you’re an artist interested in being featured, follow Nefarious Supply on Instagram (@nefarioussupply) and submit your music here.

SoundSubterra Sessions Episode 2 - Jyou

There’s a quiet conviction in the way Jyou talks about music like every track is more than just production and melody, it’s a timestamp. When he put together his SoundSubterra Sessions playlist, he wasn’t just curating vibes; he was archiving a chapter in his own life.

At 24, on the edge of turning 25, he found himself in that subtle but seismic shift where priorities start to realign. “I think that realization clicked about what’s really important and what makes a life have value,” he says. “That’s falling in love with something or someone, and having that complete passion for it or them.”

The playlist is steeped in that energy songs where the lyrics and sonics are equally soaked in feeling. Each track isn’t just about what it says, but how it moves.

Jyou’s musical DNA pulls from unlikely but deeply connected places: the soul and call-and-response energy of church, the syncopated pocket of funk, and the freeform textures of alternative hip-hop. “Am I Wrong” by Anderson .Paak, “I Think” by Tyler, The Creator, and “Treat Her Like A Lady” by The Temptations are three of the playlist’s anchors.

These songs all share a groove-first magnetism rhythms that make your shoulders shift before you’ve even caught the first lyric. But it’s the passion behind the words that made them stick for Jyou. “They felt like an ode to a lover,” he says. “The groove pulled me in, the lyrics kept me there.”

Nashville’s alt-rap scene is in an accelerated growth phase, and Jyou’s been both student and architect in that process. This playlist mirrors his position in that community collaborator, listener, and amplifier. “I had to add some of the talent around the scene that’s super inspiring,” he says. “I draw inspiration from anywhere, and I’m lucky to be part of such a huge, talented community here.”

That cross-pollination between peers, genres, and scenes keeps his work in constant motion, and his playlist feels like a snapshot of those creative conversations happening in real time. While curating, one track in particular reminded Jyou exactly why he makes music. Asiatica’s When We Were EP from 2023 hit with quiet precision. “Every song really made me feel seen sonically,” he says. “It’s so indie and simplistic her soft vocals over light guitar strums and smooth drums. Speaking on niche topics that might seem irrelevant when you think about your full 24, but that doesn’t mean that feeling wasn’t strong when you felt it. It’s a reminder that great music often lives in the details a fleeting emotion, a moment that could be overlooked but instead gets immortalized.

Fallin one of his own standout moments treads the fine line between vulnerability and composure. “I’m a huge fan of songs with juxtaposition,” he says. “Tracks that talk about heavy topics but are upbeat. Like ‘Hey Ya’ by Outkast. I think there’s beauty in pain, and I always like to present it like that in my music.” That ethos runs through the playlist. Even when the subject matter turns heavy, there’s movement, rhythm, and life in the arrangements. The tension between the two is what keeps it human.

Asked what title he’d give the playlist if it wasn’t simply under his own name, Jyou pauses. “Maybe something about feeling?” he offers. “The commonality in all these songs is that they make you feel something—whether it’s love, or you feel the need to dance, or cry. It’s all feelings the music brings out of you.” If you walk in blind, no liner notes, no artist bio, Jyou hopes the arc of the playlist still lands. “Like you’ve just gone through an actual relationship,” he says. “The emotions, the highs and lows, the sensation of wanting to interact with the person these songs are drawing you towards. In this upcoming EP, I’m taking people along that emotional rollercoaster.”

Episode 2 of SoundSubterra Sessions isn’t just a playlist it’s a guided tour through the inner corridors of Jyou’s recent years. It’s church pews and basement shows, funk grooves and whispered confessions, Nashville cyphers and indie heartbreak. And like the best rollercoasters, when it’s over, you just might want to line up and go again.

The Vault: July 25, 2025 – What We’ve Been Spinning

Every month, Vault Radio serves as a pulse check — what’s moving, what’s evolving, and what’s rising from the underground. But this isn’t just a playlist. It’s a barometer for mood, for moment, and for momentum. This July edition dives deep into the artists and songs pushing boundaries across alternative hip-hop, experimental R&B, and genreless soundscapes that can’t be boxed in — not by geography, algorithm, or expectation.

These aren’t tracks made to blend in. They’re statements — built on distortion and defiance, intimacy and invention. From sweaty club floors to introspective, late-night unravelings, the music here captures the duality of summer: bright and restless, humid and haunted. It moves between heat and haze, between impulse and intention, reflecting the emotional sprawl of a season where everything feels just a little more vivid.

Whether you’re tuning in for discovery or resonance, this lineup is the sound of what’s next — sharp-edged, soul-stung, and Southern-rooted. Every track holds weight, and every inclusion is intentional. This is the underground, amplified. Welcome to the vault.

JYOU – “HIIT”

Jyou sets the tone for this month’s Vault Radio with “HIIT” — a bold, speaker-knocking track that captures the chaos, humor, and heat of Southern nightlife. Released via East Music Row Records, “HIIT” marks a pivotal moment for the North Nashville native: a new chapter rooted in movement, culture, and creative freedom. It’s not just a single — it’s a signal that something larger is in motion.

Backed by booming 808s and produced by Austin Luther, “HIIT” blends trunk-rattling sonics with Jyou’s signature sharp-witted, hyper-visual lyricism. You can hear the mischief in his voice, the sweat on the floor, the way the night unravels into something blurry but unforgettable. It’s a record that bumps in the car and breathes on the dancefloor — but it also speaks to the nuanced identity of a Southern creative refusing to be boxed in.

Raised by ministers and trained through storytelling, theater, and the grind of Nashville’s underground scene, Jyou moves with intention. His past work — from the hard-hitting “Nest” to his time in the award-winning duo KON — built the foundation. But with “HIIT,” he turns the volume up and the corners sharper. This isn’t a return. It’s a reintroduction.

“I’m Southern, I’m alternative, I’m hip-hop, I’m theater. I’m visual. I’m visceral,” Jyou says. And “HIIT” reflects all of it — a sweaty, Southern, genre-jumping statement of self. It lives somewhere between street anthem and stage show, merging humor with emotional undercurrent. It's the kind of song that makes you dance before you even realize it's teaching you something.

As the first taste of what’s next, “HIIT” doesn’t just open doors — it kicks them in. And Jyou walks through them like he’s been here before. Because he has. Only now, he’s just getting started.

 

VAN ROBSON – “Make Up”

Van Robson’s “Make Up” doesn’t ask for your attention it earns it quietly, then holds it with intention. The track’s bounce and sheen could fool you into thinking it’s just another love song, but the real story is tucked between the beats: this is a song about recovery, confrontation, and emotional clarity disguised in replayable charm.

Born out of a low point Robson chooses not to detail, “Make Up” was sparked by the presence of someone who pulled him back — his partner, the anchor who inspired the record. Through over-exaggerated lines and heightened energy, Van transforms a personal inflection point into something defiant and digestible, refusing to wallow. Instead, he offers listeners a release rooted in truth.

“This song was released in honesty,” Van explains. “It was personal tension, long-overdue words, and energy I had been giving away without return — all coming out at once.” That vulnerability is central to his art, but it’s never presented raw or unfiltered. Instead, “Make Up” is wrapped in rhythm, polished to catch the ear before it stings the heart. “You’ll be moving through the chorus until you realize what I’m actually saying,” he adds.

This balance between sonic accessibility and emotional weight — is intentional. For Robson and his team, the creative process isn’t just about making something catchy; it’s about shaping something layered. And for those just discovering him through “Make Up,” that depth is the point. He’s not here to control the narrative only to speak truth, and let the frequency do the rest.

“My goal is perspective,” he says. “I just hope people hear the honesty and appreciate the writing.”

Guided by a philosophy that blends curiosity with care, Van draws inspiration from artists like Pharrell, who once said, “We’re just checking out ideas with our library card.” That mindset that music belongs to anyone willing to tap in permeates his work. Every word, every visual, every detail matters.

This past year, Robson also began reshaping his relationship with anxiety. What once felt like a block became a spark. “I’ve always known I was a procrastinator,” he says. “But now I’ve turned that anxious energy into a kind of superpower — writing some of my best music with it. Not that I recommend it.”

“Make Up” isn’t just a bop. It’s a recalibration. A reminder that vulnerability can be stylized, sharp, and still deeply felt. And that sometimes, the catchiest songs are the ones carrying the heaviest truths.

 

BAILEY STRAUGHN – “Rooftop Party”

If “Rooftop Party” sounds like it was made on a sugar high, it’s because it basically was. Picture this: late-night sessions, fried wings by the hundred, basslines slapping off studio walls, and punchlines so outrageous they made the producers pause the beat to laugh. It’s not just a record—it’s a time capsule from a friend group dead-set on reminding you that rap used to be fun.

Pulled from the trio’s FREE:BASS project, “Rooftop Party” is both homage and reinvention. The beat traces its DNA to Miami Bass and ghetto-tech roots, but Bailey, Jay, and Cadeem flip it with 2025 swagger. The BPM might scream techno, but the vocals are all rap-camp chaos. Bailey’s hook—“me and the boys some sluts for a rooftop party”—isn’t just a bar, it’s a thesis. “He was speaking from the heart,” Jay quips. And the song runs with that sincerity, waffling with joy and head-nods without ever once apologizing for the ridiculousness.

Lyrically, there’s a second layer. Buried in the bright bounce are sharp references, deep cuts, and regional nods for the heads who dig past the first play. Bailey and crew weren’t just rapping—they were researching. Uncle Al, DJ Magic Mike, 2 Live Crew, Brazilian funk samples… “Rooftop Party” is a sonic Easter egg hunt dressed up in a party fit.

Still, this isn’t a dissertation. It’s a reminder that the MC/DJ connection still matters, that a rap record can make you laugh and move, that you don’t have to trade depth for dopamine. “The fun needs to be restored,” Bailey says—and this record is doing that on purpose.

So whether it’s a night out in Arizona, a rooftop set in Brooklyn, or a sticky summer night in your headphones, “Rooftop Party” is for that moment right before things go left. When the pre-roll hits, the beat drops, and the only thing that matters is who showed up—and who brought the wings.

 

DEDISART – “Static!”

“Static!” isn’t loud. It doesn’t demand attention with theatrics or fireworks. But it moves different—like a memory you thought you outgrew or a lesson that hits harder the older you get. For DedisArt, this track isn’t just a song; it’s a note to a younger version of himself. One written in real time, from a place of reflection, quiet resilience, and emotional clarity. “Be a man when the rain come...” isn’t just the first line—it’s the ignition point.

Over a delicate, emotionally charged beat from Ovrkast., Dedis lets the music speak through him. His writing feels guided by memory, not ego. “Static!” is both an unraveling and a reconstruction—a map through the inner storm of growing up, discovering who you are, and finding the nerve to own it. It’s not nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake; it’s a re-alignment. A full-circle moment where you face the version of yourself that was still figuring it all out and finally give them the grace they deserved.

Lines like “How he a leader but closed off, ducking the call like a stray shot” hit like a quiet reckoning. It's the kind of bar that may slip past you the first time, but on repeat listens, it becomes a mantra. The song doesn’t build to some dramatic crescendo—it stays suspended in that emotional in-between, just like the phase of life it represents. Fear, courage, silence, and breakthrough all braided together.

“Static!” lives in that liminal space—between breakthrough and breakdown, between the storm and the sunrise. It’s a reminder that rain never lasts forever, that identity is not a finish line but a process. For DedisArt, this track is both therapy and affirmation. And for the listener, it might be a quiet push to answer that same call.

 

OMOTIZAY – “DROP THA TOP”

With “Drop Tha Top,” Omotizay pulls off something rare: capturing the euphoria of summer without losing the nuance of self-awareness. It’s breezy, bright, and built for motion—but under the surface, it’s also a meditation on memory, fantasy, and freedom. The track opens with the spirit of a classic—think DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince’s “Summertime”—but reinterpreted through Omotizay’s lens: queer, liberated, lyrically agile, and unapologetically self-produced.

Inspired by a simple moment—riding with the windows down while his mom queued up nostalgic jams—“Drop Tha Top” is both tribute and transformation. It’s not just about cruising; it’s about carving space. About joy as resistance. About the kind of fantasy that makes you feel free right now, even if it’s just for the length of a hook. “This a fantasy...” might be the line most people miss on first listen, but for Omotizay, it’s the heartbeat. A quiet acknowledgment that this entire world he’s painting is a choice. A necessary one.

As the intro to his album Power Over Life, this track sets the tone—funky, fierce, and emotionally sharp. It’s a signal that the escapism here isn’t hollow—it’s earned. Omotizay isn’t just flexing new sonic muscles (though the beat is crazy); he’s showing a level of artistic clarity that comes from unlearning doubt, rejecting self-hate, and learning to create from comfort rather than critique.

In a scene often preoccupied with hardness or heartache, “Drop Tha Top” makes space for soft power—vulnerability masked as vibe, storytelling wrapped in summer sheen. Omotizay calls it a Costco sample of what’s to come, but this appetizer slaps harder than most full meals. Play it loud, drive with the windows down, and don’t forget to catch the real underneath the glitter.

 

DMNDSTR – “ALLDUETOGOD” & “DRIFT AWAY”

Sometimes clarity doesn’t come in the moment — it reveals itself in the playback. For Dmndstr, two songs from vastly different seasons of life collide in this month’s spotlight: “Drift Away,” a raw dispatch from the haze of teenage angst, and “Allduetogod,” a more recent offering of hard-won gratitude and spiritual reckoning. Together, they trace the arc of an artist learning to hold space for both darkness and deliverance.

“Drift Away” was recorded at 18, with strep throat and a head full of static. It sounds like it too — distorted, dissonant, and emotionally frayed at the edges. It’s not polished, but it’s piercing. The kind of record you make when you’re less concerned with being understood and more focused on surviving your own thoughts. It’s a timestamp, yes, but also a portrait: of isolation, illness, and a teenage mind unraveling then rethreading through melody.

Fast forward, and “Allduetogod” finds Dmndstre on a different frequency. Created after college, it carries a brighter sonic palette and a shift in posture — not triumphant, but honest. The lyrics still slide into unexpected wordplay (“rock, paper, scissors” lands with endearing charm), but underneath the wit is something more grounded: faith, reflection, a little bit of flex. It’s joy that doesn’t feel performative. It’s earned.

Both records preview the emotional terrain of his upcoming mixtape All My Niggas Work Harder Than Me — a project rooted in grief, diagnosis, and the quiet process of rebuilding self-trust after mental health collapse. Where “Drift Away” feels like exhale through pain, “Allduetogod” is the first real breath after the storm. As Dmndstre puts it, one track was for venting, the other for gratitude — and the full project is for clarity.

In an era of over-curated personas, Dmndstre’s work feels unfiltered without losing intention. He’s not hiding the mess. He’s learning to frame it. And in doing so, these two songs don’t just show growth — they remind us that healing rarely moves in a straight line.

 

Low.bō – “blur”

There’s a quiet ache woven into the fabric of Low.bō’s “blur” — not the kind that erupts, but the kind that lingers in silence, in side glances, in the texts you never send. Produced by Scotty White and Elijah Bieuzieron, it’s a rare track on the project that Low.bō didn’t produce himself — and the shift in sonic chemistry is palpable. The textures are soft-edged and swelling, echoing a disoriented longing that flickers just beneath the surface.

“‘blur’ lives in that messy middle,” Low.bō says. And you hear it — the tenderness, the restraint, the unsent confessions embedded in lines like: “Wish I could come see you more / Can’t help the feelings that change now / Like summer going into fall.” It’s Alt-R&B at its most vulnerable — not toxic, not tragic, just… unfinished.

Where lead single “FALLOUT” tore through heartbreak with soaring tension and searing guitar, “blur” slows the frame. It’s a meditation on timing and distance, both emotional and physical, that feels as cinematic as it is personal. Low.bō’s gift lies in that duality — his ability to soundtrack the subtleties most people skip past.

Raised in Baltimore’s church choirs and forged in solitude during a period of deep isolation, Low.bō built his world from the ground up — first through photography, then through production, songwriting, and performance. Now, fresh off praise from Billboard and OVO Sound Radio and a spotlight on Spotify’s Vanguard playlist, he’s doubling down on the honesty that made his prior projects CIRCA and IMPALA resonate.

“blur” doesn’t demand attention. It drifts into your chest slowly — until you realize it’s been sitting there the whole time

 

Zugz – “Intro to You”

With a distorted grin and a sharp tongue, Zugz kicks off his latest era by giving voice to someone — or something — else entirely. “Intro to You,” the opening salvo from his upcoming project, isn’t just an introduction to a sound. It’s the entrance of a character: Pilotboy, a bold, defiant persona built to explore everything Zugz couldn’t say outright — until now.

“I was kinda angry,” Zugz admits, reflecting on where his head was at after dropping his first EP, 04’. “It got some streams but didn’t really feel legit… I didn’t feel like I proved to myself how good I could be.” That fire — the need to make something undeniable — became the engine behind this record. And Pilotboy was the vessel.

Inspired by concept albums and the exaggerated honesty of alter egos, Zugz created Pilotboy as an emotional amplifier — a persona that could “run rampant with feeling” without filter or restraint. The result is a track that feels theatrical but grounded, aggressive but intentional. It's all delivered with a sneer that’s both cartoonish and deadly serious.

At surface level, “Intro to You” smacks with raw energy. But Zugz challenges listeners to hit replay — to catch the setup, the hidden commentary, the myth-making buried in the margins. It’s a scene-setter for a tightly constructed album arc, a self-contained journey where every beat has a purpose, and Pilotboy only sticks around long enough to serve his emotional function.

“I want the listener to feel free,” Zugz says. And in that freedom is the point — permission to be larger than life, to be loud, layered, and unapologetically yourself.

Pilotboy might be a one-time thing, but the confidence behind him? That’s here to stay.


This month’s Vault isn’t just a snapshot it’s a statement. Every track speaks to the edges of what’s possible when sound, story, and self collide. Whether it shook your speakers or sat with your spirit, we want to know what lingered.

Rouri404: Nothing Forced, Nothing Fake

Rouri404’s music lives in tension between clarity and distortion, control and collapse. Since 2021, he’s carved out a sound that doesn’t sit neatly in one genre, but instead moves between hyperpop, alt-rock, and electronic textures with instinct over intention. There’s no obvious blueprint. What ties it all together is how personal it feels sometimes painfully so.

In this interview with Nefarious Supply, Rouri reflects on how his process has shifted from scribbled notes to real-time writing. He opens up about the mental and emotional undercurrents that shaped narcissist, a turning point both musically and personally. We talk about how confidence, once out of reach, became something he had to learn through sound. And how recording vocals — once a source of insecurity is now an act of precision and purpose.

There’s no pitch for perfection here. Rouri doesn’t sell his music as a movement or brand. What he offers instead is honesty sometimes jagged, sometimes gentle but always earned. This isn’t about reinvention or hype. It’s about the slow work of making peace with your own voice. And using it, finally, to say what needed to be said.

You’ve been a defining voice in the scene for a while now. How do you think your sound has evolved since you first started?

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  Since 2021 I’ve always tried to have a diverse sound that you can’t really pin to just one genre. Growing up I had a deep love for all kinds of rock, edm and really just all different genres of music, so as I’ve grown more the last couple of years I’ve tried my hand at mixing them all together into one more cohesive sound.


Your lyricism cuts deep, do you write with a specific story in mind, or do the emotions guide the process?

My process for writing lyrics has changed a good amount since first starting, I used to jot down any & every idea that would come to mind in my notes app wether it was something I felt emotionally hit hard or just a cool phrase. Everything post “narcissist” I for some reason got into the habit of just “freestyling” or tapping in line by line to write, I’ve found it helps a lot with just staying in the moment of exactly what I’m feeling and I’m able to get across thoughts & emotions a lot clearer.

Your vocals are incredibly raw and powerful. How do you approach recording to capture that intensity?

Growing up I was very nervous about my voice, never thinking I sounded good or really having the confidence to push myself. Once again something about the creation process of “narcissist” unlocked doors for me I didn’t know possible, at the time creating something I saw as far beyond my capabilities. Nowadays I mostly just try to let go of all outside noise when I record, I want it to be precise and accurate whether that’s in my actual vocal delivery or the words I’m thinking to say next.

Production-wise, your sound is both immersive and hard-hitting. What draws you to certain sounds or textures when crafting a track?

Ive always been attracted to avant-garde/experimental sounds & I feel that has bled thru in every aspect of our production. Growing up and having my playlist go from something like daft punk or skrillex straight into sigur rós or BMTH I just don’t put many limits on what our sound can be or where it can go.

Do you feel like your music is a reflection of who you are in the moment, or do you use it to explore parts of yourself you wouldn’t otherwise express?

I would say it’s a reflection of previous experiences, kind of a cathartic/therapeutic deal. I’ve been able to sort thru a lot of personal traumas with music that I don’t think would have been faced otherwise, and being able to have other people also use my words as a vehicle for healing is a really beautiful feeling.

The hyperpop scene has shifted a lot over the years. Where do you see yourself within it right now?

Honestly I see myself in the middle. I don’t like to associate with many people & we’ve really been keeping our heads down just working this last 2 years, so I don’t think anyone knows what we have in store still.

Has there been a moment in your career where you truly felt the impact of your music on your listeners?

There’s been so many it’s hard to really pinpoint one exact moment , but I would say the countless number of DMs I’ve gotten over every platform the last 5 years of people telling me how my words have helped them understand themselves better, or helped them work thru personal traumas of their own.

What’s a song of yours that means the most to you personally, and why?

Every song has some amount of special meaning for sure but there are a couple that have extra. “Hope” has always been a hard listen for me because I know in my heart how open I am being in that song, and it kinda hurts. Reaching a point of being able to express those kind of feelings so fluently, going back on it and relistening is almost painful. But genuinely every song has a very special place & meaning.

Who are some artists or producers—past or present—who inspire you the most?

Daft punk, BMTH, bones and so many more all helped develop my sound and style, I used to try to break down my inspirations but there is genuinely so many trying to boil it down to a couple feels impossible.

What’s next for Rouri404? Are there any upcoming projects or collaborations you’re excited about?

Right now I’m focused on getting singles out consistently & building up my community as much as possible. Hopefully a handful of shows across the US soon. Never been so excited to drop music though ^_^


Calling All Underground Artists: Elevate Your Music with Nefarious Supply's Next Wave Rollout

In the ever-evolving and fiercely competitive landscape of underground music, making a mark can often feel overwhelming. At Nefarious Supply, we are resolutely committed to elevating those hidden gems and visionary artists ready to revolutionize the scene and leave a lasting impression. With our "Next Wave by Nefarious" rollout campaign, we're not just offering an opportunity, but opening our entire platform to independent artists set to release new music in July or August 2025. We're dedicated to providing genuine support and undivided attention, fostering a nurturing environment where creativity can thrive. From spotlight features and playlist placements to expertly tailored rollout guidance, this initiative is your unparalleled chance to leverage a community wholeheartedly committed to the music, the message, and the moment.

At Nefarious Supply, we're unwaveringly dedicated to highlighting the raw, unfiltered talent simmering below the mainstream surface. Our mission is as straightforward as it is profound: to amplify the voices of underground artists and provide them with the platform they unquestionably deserve, delivering the recognition they seek.

We hold an unwavering belief in the transformative power of authentic, groundbreaking music. Our mission is intricately tied to supporting artists who not only push boundaries but also challenge conventions and redefine genres.

We are not just another playlist or blog lost in the digital ether. We are a community of passionate and dedicated music lovers fully committed to elevating underground talent. Our team listens to every submission, meticulously seeking out unique sounds that genuinely warrant being heard and celebrated.

By providing a comprehensive platform for these artists, we aim to bridge the gap between obscurity and recognition. Our purpose is to help you cut through the noise, reaching the audience patiently waiting for your distinctive sound, empowering you to make your mark in the music world.

If you're releasing music this summer — a single, a tape, a full project — this is your window.

The calendar is open. Slots are limited. Once it's full, we lock in and execute.

Click here to submit your music now, and you’ll hear from us soon.
Let’s make this drop count.

The Art of Becoming: trustt on Music, Identity, and Movement

In an era where electronic music is as limitless as the emotions it seeks to evoke, trustt has carved out a uniquely vibrant space in the underground scene. Drawing from an early, almost obsessive exploration of genres as diverse as dubstep, emo, rap, and jazz, his sound is a seamless fusion of raw energy and contemplative mood. Inspired by those formative years of endless discovery on platforms like YouTube, he infuses his tracks with the same passion and wonder that once captivated his youthful ears.

Balancing innovative production with heartfelt, spontaneous lyricism, trustt approaches his craft as a journey of self-discovery. Rather than premeditating his words, he lets the music guide him, allowing his lyrics to emerge organically and reveal hidden truths about his inner world. This intuitive process has defined his distinctive style and connected him with a community of fellow dreamers and innovators.

As he continues to push the boundaries of genre and experiment with new sounds and techniques, trustt remains grounded by the belief that his music is more than just a series of tracks—it's an invitation to experience a moment, a mood, and a lifetime of inspiration. Whether through electrifying live performances or intimate, late-night reflections, he is determined to be that unexpected spark of creativity that drives his listeners to embrace their own artistic journeys.


Your sound blends multiple electronic genres with smooth, emotionally charged vocals. How did you develop this style, and what drew you to this fusion of sounds?

I would like to say that the way I like to blend genres stems from the fact that I just listened to so much music when I was a kid. I would spend hours on Youtube just listening to quite literally everything, from Dubstep to Emo to Rap, and even Jazz at one point. I was utterly obsessed with the idea of how many ways music was used to make a person feel.

I honestly would say that my current style takes a lot of inspiration now from the stuff I listened to as a kid, even if not directly in how it sounds, the attitude and the feeling I'm trying to convey, that is where I say it comes through. I want to make music that makes me feel how I felt when I found all these new genres and artists.

I want to be "that" artist to someone who randomly finds my music online.

You’ve made a huge impact as a newcomer to the scene. What has been the most surreal or unexpected moment in your journey so far?

Personally, the most surreal thing is getting traction and sustaining it, I never thought I would be growing at the rate I'm at. I'm not a superstar or anything of course so I won't get ahead of myself but it's just crazy that my music has had the impact and the audience that it does, especially in times where I really doubt myself and my art.

Another pretty crazy thing is also the friends I have made.

Some of my closest friends are people I am really inspired by and have been for years now. It's so crazy to me that I've found a community that I fit into, made friends doing what I love. It's the happiest I've ever been, getting those sorts of experiences.

Your lyrics feel deeply personal and evocative. Do you approach songwriting with a specific story in mind, or do the emotions guide the process first?

It's quite interesting how I go about writing my lyrics, because I never really start with them. I am a producer first in my mind.

I write only after I feel I have produced something that's worth having lyrics on it. Usually, when recording, I sort of just freely come up with stuff, maybe I will have a few lines in my notes app as ideas, but it'll usually be off the top of my head.

And as for topics that I write about, it's funny how they make sense after I write them. I will sing many lines and only after I have finished, I put the pieces together and I read them and I notice that in the back of my mind, I was singing about something really happening, or my real feelings.

It's funny how the mind works like that.

Electronic music is constantly evolving. Are there any new sounds, techniques, or influences you’re excited to experiment with in your upcoming work?

Most definitely, I am always trying new stuff in my production and it's constantly been the most exciting thing when working on music. Sometimes it's a random effect or I accidentally mess with something and it sounds really interesting, I like to work around that.

I definitely want to incorporate the sort of interesting sound design that I love, while also making something fun to listen to without trying to be some sort of "show off" or just being experimental for the sake of being experimental.

I want to use the new sounds and techniques I find and put them into my music in ways that feels new and fun. 

The underground scene is where some of the most innovative music is born. How do you see yourself fitting into it, and what do you think sets you apart?

As I said earlier I am so grateful for the community I have found myself a part of. I definitely think I find myself fitting into a niche spot of the underground scene but I am also always trying something new, for those who may want one genre or another, or maybe both at the same time.

It's interesting to me how I was sort of able to take my name from one community to another in the past 3 or so years. When I started off, I felt like I was sort of in a box, making sort of the same thing with all my friends. I slowly got more confident in myself and branched out and I think that was very evident in my first EP "clearminded".

As much as I look back with mixed feelings about it, in a way it sort of is the reason I found myself moving away from my old sound into the one I am currently in now. I think that confidence and striving for something different is why I am here at the moment, why I have the friends I do, and why I have fun making music the most.

As someone new to the industry but already making waves, what has been the biggest lesson you've learned about navigating music as both an art form and a business?

One thing I have learned is that image matters almost as much as the music does. I am a very visual based artist, I love to do graphic design in my free time. People see the cover art first, people see your profile picture first, people see the titles first.

That all comes before even listening to the music sometimes. People love to see something aesthetically pleasing, and I do too. Not to say that the art and visuals always need to match, but it makes the image of an artist stronger and more cohesive.

It feels like something people can grasp onto, get inspiration from.

My art and music is the business, because I am selling them both when I release new songs and projects.

Your music creates such a strong atmosphere. If you could curate the perfect setting for someone to experience your sound—whether a specific place, mood, or moment—what would it be?

Most of my music takes me to the most mundane places in my mind. I think the perfect setting is where your mind takes you when listening to the music.

What are the things you want to do? Who do you want to be with when you listen to this? Does this music make you want to go somewhere? That sort of feeling.

When I listen to my music, I always just want to take a walk at night when no one is out, or lay in my bed with all the lights off. It's how I get inspiration. I think most of my music feels like the thing where you can visualize it in your head, like a movie, or a scene from a movie.

You can't necessarily do these things at the moment or be in that scene, but you want to.

Collaboration can be a game-changer for an artist. Is there anyone you’d love to work with, whether within electronic music or beyond?

There are so many people I would love to work with that it's almost impossible to list them off. I would love to work with every artist that inspires me, from Skrillex, to The 1975, to Porter Robinson, just everyone who was instrumental in why I make music today.

Collaboration scares me at times but I think it is the reason so many new sounds and ideas are able to happen, so that's exciting.

Looking ahead to 2025, what’s on the horizon for you? Are there any major projects, live performances, or creative risks you’re planning to take?

I have lots and lots of music planned, and I am so excited to share it with everyone. I am currently planning three projects, one of which is about halfway done. I am a slow worker, so I may not be able to hit my goal, but this year I really am just focused on releasing as much good music as I can, and taking risks each release.

I would also love to perform live again, maybe soon if things align right.

If listeners take away just one feeling or thought from your music, what do you hope it is?

The one feeling I hope people get from my music is inspiration.

Go make something you love, go do something that makes you happy, go be yourself, because that is the coolest thing you can do.


stream trustt below!

Nature, Distance, and Memory: Bassea’s Story Behind "The Hiker"

On The Hiker, bassea crafts a world of quiet reflection, sprawling landscapes, and deeply personal storytelling. Written in the wake of leaving their childhood home in California and starting a new life in France, the album captures the tension between longing and growth, isolation and connection.

Across gentle acoustic arrangements, layered field recordings, and subtle experimental flourishes, bassea transforms moments of uncertainty into songs that feel both intimate and expansive.

We caught up with bassea to talk about the making of The Hiker, their approach to songwriting, and the memories that shaped this deeply personal record.


The Hiker feels deeply personal and reflective. What inspired you to explore these themes of love, distance, and fleeting time? Were there specific moments in your life that shaped the stories you tell on this album?

the hiker is, in its entirety, the story of leaving my childhood home in California and moving to France, where I currently live. Whenever I start to write an album I try to figure out exactly what kind of story I want to tell, and while I was brainstorming I realized this would be the perfect opportunity for me to explore how I felt during that time in my life. Through this, I found that I had pushed down a lot of feelings that ultimately shouldn’t be pushed down. It was 2021: It was the middle of Covid and I had just graduated high school.

I was in a pretty bad relationship that made me want to stay in California, which ended up causing a lot of arguments with my family and a lot of overall tension. When we moved in July I had no idea what my life was going to look like, and those feelings of anxiety and dread took me over for around 6 months.

As my life in France went on though, things started to look up. I had started making music that year and I was only improving, I found a community to share my music in (shoutout Niztopia for that), I got out of the relationship I was in (a very good decision), and I started dating my current girlfriend.

All of those things are what I tried to outline in The Hiker without being too obvious about exactly what was happening.

There’s a real warmth to the way this album is crafted. How did you approach the sound and production to match the emotions in your lyrics? Did you have a particular sonic vision from the start, or did it evolve naturally?

When I write music, the instrumentation is usually the first thing I make.

There’s really only two things that I actually decided I wanted sonically from the songs in the hiker, and those were acoustic guitar and field recordings. I found that recording my guitar with the same field recorder (the Zoom H4n Pro) that I use to record atmospheric and nature sounds made a very specific and cohesive sound that I knew would work well for what I wanted.

I have accumulated a library of field recordings from outside spaces I find interesting (like a forest or the ocean) that I used on basically every song on the hiker. I’m also not a great guitar player, so I tried to find chord progressions and riffs that were easy to play but still evoked the feelings I wanted. I also didn’t want the songs to just be purely acoustic, so I usually put in some sort of weird glitchy sound design in the background of songs using granular synthesis or other things like that.

I’ve found that it’s easy to create a cohesive sound when I’m the one doing everything. That being said, it took over a year to finish the album so maybe I ought to branch out a little bit.

The album title, The Hiker, carries a sense of both solitude and movement. What does that name mean to you in the context of this music? Does it reflect where you are personally and creatively at this stage in your journey?

The name “the hiker” actually comes from the original idea of the album that I eventually scrapped. I was going to use the same story, but have 4 extra songs, each called “the hiker” parts 1,2, 3, and all of them together. They were all made up stories that paralleled what was happening at that point in the album. The lyrics focused on a ‘hiker’ lost in a forest who eventually finds his way out (the hiker being me.)

I eventually scrapped that idea and those songs, but they do exist! They just sounded a little too campfire song-y for the album. I decided to keep the name because I liked the nature-centric feel it gave to the album, and because one of the songs’ original stories comes from a hike.

Love and time are universal yet deeply personal themes. How do you balance writing something so intimate while still making it feel relatable to listeners?

When I write lyrics I always have my own personal feelings that I put into the words, but I try to keep the actual words relatively vague and non-specific while still being meaningful.

For example, I have focused a lot on talking about distance and love together because I am in a long-distance relationship at the moment. I’ve seen a lot of content online about people being in a similar situation, and I find it really easy to put my feelings into words when I know that I’m not the only one who feels that way, and I hope that when people listen to my lyrics they can also relate.

In “true north” I specifically focus on the separation between me and my girlfriend by highlighting specific moments we’ve spent together in our respective places and showing the differences between us in a positive light.

If you could freeze one memory forever—the kind of moment you sing about on this album—what would it be? And did that memory influence any specific track on The Hiker?

Part of the reason I loved living in California was the easily accessible nature of the Bay Area that me and my family would drive to every so often, this fact made it that much harder to leave. A specific memory that I focused on for “mountain lions” is a hike that my family went on when I was younger on the Dunn Trail in the Oakland hills, one that we frequented a lot during my time there. I was probably 4 or 5 years old, and as we were walking the path my dad pointed to a water pipe off the trail and told me “That’s where we found you when you were a baby.” He told me the reason I was found there in the first place was because I was raised by mountain lions and they had forgotten me there, so my parents took me home with them.

I, being the smartest 4-year-old in the world, believed him. Every time we walked that trail I would howl at the hills (because apparently that’s what I thought mountain lions did) to see if my mountain lion family would take me back to where I came from (hence the lyrics “calling mountain lions - won’t you take me home?”) I eventually figured out that I was not in fact raised by mountain lions. Still, that story stuck with me far enough that I decided to write a song about it!

Was there a particular song on The Hiker that was especially emotional or challenging for you to create? Whether lyrically, vocally, or in production, was there a track that pushed you outside your comfort zone?

“stick n poke” is probably the most vulnerable I’ve been writing a song, which was difficult to do in the moment but incredibly satisfying when it was finished. I wrote about my recent dealings with a condition I developed in 2023 called a Mixed Connective Tissue disease, along with Raynaud’s syndrome (essentially chronic joint pain and circulation issues when my hands or feet are cold.)

I wanted to have a point in the album where instead of focusing on my mental state I focused more on my physical state, and the result of that was “stick n poke.” I have a habit of being unspecific in my sadder songs, and working on this song made me want to be more honest and direct about exactly how I feel.

Looking beyond this album, what excites you most about 2025? Are there any creative risks, collaborations, or new directions you’re hoping to explore this year?

Even since I released the album last year I’ve been getting better and better at everything musically.

My production has leveled up a pretty significant amount, as well as my guitar playing and singing, so I’m really excited to show off my growth with my next couple of releases. I also have a few collaborations that I’ve done with some of my friends (some who are in the scene and some other irls) that I’m really excited about.

I’m also going to be moving back to the US (Upstate New York, specifically) later this year so I’m sure that will be a source of inspiration and more collaboration with people in the scene that I haven’t had the chance to meet in person yet. 2025 has a lot of unpredictable things, so I’ve decided to just go with the flow and let whatever happens happen!

Your music has such an endearing, timeless quality. Who are some of your biggest inspirations—whether musically, personally, or even in other forms of art?

I honestly don’t listen to as much music as I probably should, but some artists I’ve been listening to lately are Role Model (his album Kansas Anymore has been very inspiring), Still Woozy, Mac Miller (Hand Me Downs is my favorite song of all time), Lizzy McAlpine, and Ryan Beatty. Very acoustic guitar-centric soft folk-pop/country-ish stuff is right up my alley. Some things that I do when I’m lacking inspiration is watch people produce music on YouTube; the two main channels that I gravitate towards are David Hilowitz Music (he does reviews of old synths and fun little instruments and makes songs with them and it’s very fun) and Trev Barnes (he does full music production videos and the music kinda sounds like something I’d make).

Performing live is such an important part of sharing music. What kind of spaces do you see yourself performing in this year? Are there any dream venues or festivals you’d love to be part of?

I’ve always had this weird fear of performing live, which is weird because I did musical theater for a good portion of my life. I’ve been trying to get over this fear by getting better at playing my own songs on guitar and singing at the same time. Since I’m moving to New York this year, I’m hoping that there are some of my artist friends that will want to bring me on as maybe an opener or something like that, or maybe I’ll toughen up and book a show myself. It’ll be easier to rouse myself to do that because a lot of my audience is in the US. I hope one day I can perform in the Bay Area in California. It'll feel like a full circle moment for me– maybe performing at a California festival could be fun too.

At the end of 2025, if you could look back and say, ‘This was the year I finally accomplished _______,’ what would that be?

I hope that I end up releasing a lot more music and hopefully start to work on another album when I live in the US. I just released a song called “rose” and I have two more upcoming releases that I haven’t announced yet that I am very proud of. I also hope to keep bringing my friends into my studio and make more very fun collaborations.

I have no idea what my audience number is gonna look like at the end of the year, and I’m not going to speculate much about it but I hope people start to find me more!


Listen to “the hiker” and the rest of bassea’s incredible discography here

The Artist Playbook – Branding Basics

Welcome back to The Artist Playbook, your structured guide to building a sustainable and independent music career from the ground up. Last episode, we laid the groundwork by helping you clarify your “why,” set achievable goals, and build a foundation rooted in consistency. This week, we’re turning our focus to something just as vital, your brand.

Whether you realize it or not, branding begins the moment someone encounters your name, visits your profile, or sees your cover art. Every post, photo, and song contributes to how you’re perceived. In a music industry where first impressions often determine whether someone hits play or scrolls past, intentional branding isn’t just helpful, it’s essential.

A strong, consistent brand:

  • Makes you more recognizable and memorable.

  • Attracts fans who align with your aesthetic and message.

  • Builds trust, clarity, and professionalism around your artistry.

  • Provides direction when it’s time to make creative or business decisions.

This week, we’ll dive into three foundational components of branding every artist must master:

  1. Your Artist Name

  2. Your Visual Identity

  3. Your Story

Choosing Your Artist Name

Your artist name is the first element of your brand that fans, curators, and industry professionals encounter. Before anyone hears your voice or reads your bio, your name is already setting the stage. It’s the verbal logo of your creative identity, shaping expectations about your sound, style, and presence.

In a sea of new music released daily, your name needs to do more than just “exist”, it has to cut through the noise. It’s what people search, remember, tag, and talk about. If it’s forgettable, hard to pronounce, or difficult to find online, you’re creating unnecessary friction between yourself and your potential audience.

Think about the artists whose names stuck with you the first time you heard them, Saba, Tierra Whack, Frank Ocean, Noname. These names are evocative. They’re distinct without being overly complicated. They each suggest something about the artist before you even press play. That’s what you’re aiming for: a name that feels authentic, sparks curiosity, and makes someone want to know more.

A strong artist name does three things well:

  1. It invites attentionIt’s either aesthetically pleasing, emotionally intriguing, or sounds good when spoken aloud.

  2. It signals intentionWhether subtle or bold, your name should feel like a conscious choice, not a placeholder.

  3. It creates spaceA good name gives you room to evolve creatively while still maintaining cohesion as your sound grows.

Don’t rush this part. Sit with a few ideas. Say them out loud. Write them out. Google them. See how they look on a cover art thumbnail. Consider how they’ll appear in a Spotify search result or an Instagram handle.

Your artist name isn’t just the front door to your music. It’s the address people use to find you, remember you, and come back to what you create.

What Makes a Name Work

  • Memorability - Can someone say it once and recall it later?

  • Originality - Are you avoiding common tropes or overused prefixes?

  • Sonic Alignment - Does the name evoke a tone that matches your sound?

Brand Practicality Checklist

  • Is it already being used on Spotify, Apple Music, or YouTube?

  • Are the social handles available across major platforms?

  • Can someone search it and find you easily, or will they get lost in a sea of unrelated content?

These are not just details, they’re structural decisions. Making the right choice now sets you up to scale later without running into identity issues or legal problems. If you’re unsure about your current name, take time this week to re-evaluate it. Does it still align with your growth as an artist? Does it feel like an accurate reflection of where you’re headed? A name change early on is far easier to navigate than one mid-career.

Defining Your Visual Identity

A strong visual identity is not about chasing trends or aiming for perfection, it’s about deliberate clarity. It’s about creating a cohesive experience that reinforces your music before a single note plays. When done right, your visuals don’t just complement your sound, they amplify it, turning casual listeners into emotionally invested supporters.

Start with Structure

Your visual brand should be rooted in a few consistent, well-considered elements:

  • Color Palette - Choose two to four signature colors that reflect your mood, themes, or sonic tone. Are you high-energy and rebellious? Reds, oranges, or high-contrast neons might make sense. More reflective and melancholy? Earth tones, muted blues, or black and white could feel right. These colors should show up repeatedly—on cover art, your website, your social media banners, even your merch. The more visually consistent your presence, the faster people begin to recognize you.

  • Typography - Fonts communicate energy and tone just as much as colors do. Serif fonts feel classic. Sans-serif fonts feel modern. Handwritten fonts feel intimate. Bold, block fonts feel aggressive or assertive. Choose a set of 1–2 fonts that reflect your sonic personality. These fonts can be used in Instagram quote graphics, cover art, or any promotional materials to create a branded rhythm across platforms.

  • Photography & Imagery - You don’t need expensive gear, but you do need intention. Your photos should tell a story. Consider composition, facial expression, lighting, backdrop, and outfit. Are you evoking solitude, confidence, rebellion, vulnerability? A consistent approach to photography helps build visual cues that tie into your music’s emotional range. Fans may not notice these decisions consciously, but they’ll feel the atmosphere they create.

If you’re unsure where to begin, look at artists whose visuals you admire, not to copy them, but to reverse-engineer why their look works. Is it the tone? The spacing? The simplicity or complexity? Identify what resonates with you and adapt it into something personal.

Building Recognition Through Repetition

Familiarity builds connection. When your audience consistently sees a recognizable look, whether it’s your choice of fonts, photo filters, or how you structure your social posts, it signals professionalism and intentionality. In a feed full of chaos, repetition creates a sense of place. And in branding, that “place” becomes where fans go to reconnect with your world.

Think of visual identity like the intro of your music video—subtle cues that tell someone, “you’re in the right place.”

The artists who leave lasting impressions don’t just sound different, they look different in a way that feels deliberate and specific. Visuals create a container for your sound. When your look evolves in step with your music, it helps the audience follow your growth while still feeling anchored to the artist they first connected with.

Establishing Direction: Your Visual Toolkit

Before designing a cover or booking a shoot, take time to define your aesthetic vision. That starts with building a toolkit:

  • Mood Boards - Use platforms like Pinterest, Notion, or Milanote to collect images, textures, color palettes, fonts, and references that reflect your vibe.

  • References - Include film stills, old album art, runway shots, or even architecture—anything that captures your desired tone or mood.

  • Keywords - Alongside images, write down 3–5 words that describe your brand’s aesthetic. Think “gritty,” “otherworldly,” “serene,” “vulnerable,” or “offbeat.” These words help you communicate your vision to collaborators down the line.

When it comes time to hire a photographer, graphic designer, or visual collaborator, this toolkit becomes your brand language, it ensures your visuals are on message, even when you’re not the one behind the camera.

Why Visual Cohesion Matters More Over Time

For artists early in their journey, visual identity might feel secondary to the music. But as your catalog grows, your audience starts forming expectations around your releases, what they’ll feel like, what they’ll sound like, and increasingly, what they’ll look like. From your second or third release onward, each new visual either reinforces your identity or blurs it.

Think of visual cohesion as creative trust. When people recognize your visual signature, they feel more confident investing in the music behind it. That kind of trust turns casual streams into long-term fans.

Crafting Your Story

A strong brand doesn’t just look good, it feels real. Visuals might capture attention, but storytelling is what creates connection. It's how you turn a song into something more than sound something personal, human, and memorable.

Listeners are no longer just consuming music they’re forming relationships with the artists behind it. In a landscape where anyone can drop a song, what sets you apart is your ability to make people care. Storytelling gives your brand emotional texture. It transforms your name, image, and sound into a living narrative that people can follow, invest in, and relate to.

But let’s be clear storytelling doesn’t mean you have to share every detail of your personal life. It means having a defined sense of what you stand for and being able to communicate that clearly. Your story becomes your north star. It helps you navigate creative decisions, brand partnerships, interviews, press, and more.

The Key Pillars of Your Story:

Your Roots - Where are you from not just geographically, but emotionally and culturally? What shaped your worldview? What challenges or experiences influenced the way you create? Your background doesn’t have to be dramatic to be compelling. It just has to be honest and specific.

Your Influences - What artists, sounds, films, books, places, or experiences helped form your creative perspective? You don’t need to list names to be credible focus on what you took from those influences and how they shaped your process or vision.

Your Purpose - What role does music play in your life—and what role do you want it to play for others? Are you trying to empower, escape, provoke, comfort, inspire? What’s the emotional intention behind your work? This clarity is what helps fans connect with your why, not just your what.

Writing Your Artist Bio

Rather than writing a full-length autobiography, your goal should be to craft a concise artist statement something that can live on your website, social platforms, streaming bios, and media kits. This statement should:

  • Quickly introduce who you are and what you sound like.

  • Convey what makes you distinct.

  • Invite curiosity and leave room for discovery.

Here’s a simple framework to start with:

  • Where you’re from

  • What kind of music you make

  • What makes your sound or message different

  • Why you create in the first place

Once you have your core bio locked in, you can adapt it for different platforms. Need a shorter version for your Instagram? Pull one sentence. Need a more in-depth version for a press release or EPK? Expand it by adding a paragraph about your current work or recent releases. This bio becomes your brand’s anchor, clear, consistent, and ready to evolve as you do.

Weekly Checklist

To build a solid brand foundation, complete these three tasks before moving forward:

Finalize or re-evaluate your artist name. - Search for it across music platforms (Spotify, Apple Music, SoundCloud) and secure matching social handles. Think long-term—your name should represent your identity today and still work years from now.

Define your visual identity. - Create a mood board with fonts, colors, imagery, and textures that align with your sound and persona. This becomes your visual reference for cover art, photography, social media, and merchandise.

Write a short, compelling artist bio. - Start with the 2–3 sentence format. Refine it until it feels specific, authentic, and repeatable. Then use it across your platforms to maintain a consistent introduction to your brand.

Between Genres, Beneath the Surface - Corbin Adler

Corbin Adler’s music feels like a late-night drive through memory. cinematic, raw, and unafraid to sit in silence. Blending alternative R&B textures with the intimacy of indie folk and lo-fi soundscapes, his style doesn’t ask for attention, it earns it through atmosphere and emotional clarity. There’s a quiet conviction in how he creates, with every synth layer, guitar loop, and drum break reflecting an artist who’s lived through what he’s writing.

Raised on acoustic storytellers and shaped by his own trials navigating faith, time, and pressure, Corbin doesn’t just make music—he translates moments. From corporate burnout to personal heartbreak, his songs often feel like journal entries that slipped into the studio at just the right time. But don’t mistake vulnerability for softness. There’s strength in how he holds space for imperfection, choosing honesty over polish.

In this conversation, we get a look into Corbin’s creative world, how he balances production with emotion, why imperfection plays a role in his sound, and what it means to stay authentic in the face of industry noise. Whether you’ve just tapped into his music or you’ve been following the wave, this interview is a reminder of what it looks like when someone builds a lane that feels like home.

Your sound seamlessly blends alternative R&B, lo-fi, and indie influences. How did this fusion come naturally to you, and what artists or experiences shaped it?

Thank you! Funny enough, I grew up learning & listening to a lot of indie and folk music like City & Colour, Hozier, Ben Howard, etc. But when I started learning production & Ableton, I found myself making a lot more R&B records than anything else. So naturally I bring my indie, folk, and rock influences into art along with any other genre(s) I love. I always want my music to live in the “R&B” world but to have a little twist of a different genre in there as well.

You’ve spoken about struggling with life, time, and faith in your youth. How have those themes evolved in your music as you’ve grown, and do you feel they still shape your perspective today?

Man. I wouldn’t be the person I am now without all my struggles. A large majority of my life has been learning how to deal with the punches of life, time, and faith. It’s made me a much more caring person to everyone and everything around me. And in terms of my music, those struggles show up a lot in my writing. Like writing a song about working a corporate job for the first time and being so frustrated with the rich only getting richer.

Your storytelling feels deeply personal. Do you find that songwriting helps you process emotions, or do you go into a track with a clear story already in mind?

I appreciate that, and I’m glad that comes across! All my songs have been situations I have or am currently processing— A breakup, losing friendships, financial issues, or struggles with life. Outside of music, I’m a very emotionally open person, I’ll be the first to admit my feelings, and it’s honestly a gift to be able to share those feelings through music for anyone else to tie their own feelings to the song as well.

Your production choices are often atmospheric and layered—do you approach sound design with the same level of personal intention as your lyrics?

I do! I have always considered myself more of a producer/musician than a writer. Often when I hear other songs I enjoy, it’s always the music itself that captures me rather than the lyrics themselves. So all my songs are built around making the music & instrumentation sound good first with layering synths, guitars, drums, and etc. I’ve also really fallen in love with the idea of imperfection. I’ve spent the last several years learning how to do everything “right” in Ableton, but now I’m learning how to break my own rules & not quantize everything lol.

The independent music landscape is constantly shifting. What’s been the biggest challenge in getting your music heard, and how have you navigated staying authentic while growing an audience?

Damn great question. Honestly? Consistently putting myself out there is the hardest part. It’s difficult to spend hours marketing yourself to find 200 views. But i’ve found putting less pressure on the marketing aspect & keeping it more real and honest with the viewer and myself is the best way I can stay authentic while putting myself out there too.

As a creative who curates music as well as makes it, how do you balance your personal artistry with your role as someone who uplifts other artists?

I’ve spent the last several years learning music all by myself. And most of those years I spent doubting myself. I know how hard it is to follow this dream. A lot of us are one conversation away from quitting. I had one person, outside my friends, who told me “I love what you’re doing. keep going.”, and it changed my life.We all need that person, so know I try my best to be that person for other artists like myself.

Many artists use visuals to enhance their music’s impact. How important is visual storytelling to your process, and do you see yourself expanding into more visual projects in the future?

I think it’s incredibly important. Hearing a song for the first time has its own meaning, and then watching that song with its visual often creates its own different meaning. I’d love to make some really cool visual narratives in the future, but in the meantime I’m having fun focusing on making my sound the best that I can first and foremost.

Looking ahead, what’s next for Corbin Adler? Are there any projects, collaborations, or sonic experiments you’re excited to explore?

So many things. I wanna continue meeting so many great and talented people in this space like yourselves. It’s an honor to live in this industry & I love seeing my friends succeed. I’ve got some ambitious projects in the works that I’m excited to share with y'all here soon.

If someone discovers your music years from now, what’s the one thing you’d want them to take away from it? What’s the legacy you want to leave behind?

Love this question. I’d love for people to walk away knowing they can do anything. I spent my whole life thinking I couldn’t make music work. But honestly, your dream isn’t as far fetched as you think it is.


SoundSubterra Sessions Episode 1 - Chris Chand and the Stillness in Motion

At Nefarious Supply, we’re carving our own path in underground music—moving deliberately away from algorithmic playlists and surface-level interviews toward something more intimate, intentional, and artist-driven. SoundSubterra Sessions is how we put that into practice. SoundSubterra Sessions is the next iteration of what began as Nefarious Supply Radio — refined, redefined, and now rooted more deeply in the artist’s process. Where NS Radio was about what we were listening to offering artist-hosted playlists that were compelling but often left the deeper story untold SoundSubterra Sessions is about fully understanding who we’re listening to, and why their song choices matter. It's our commitment to going beyond the playlist itself, and building content that showcases the artist as a whole: their process, their influences, and the emotional architecture of the session. Each episode is more than curation it’s a collaboration in storytelling.

Our first featured artist isn’t new to the Nefarious Supply ecosystem. In fact, we’ve been following Chris Chand for years. From our first conversation with him back in 2021 where he spoke about growing up in a musical household in Pickering, cutting his teeth in Toronto's independent scene, and learning to produce and record music from his bedroom, to hosting Episode 008 of NS Radio in 2023, we’ve seen his artistry stretch and evolve across projects, collaborations, and sonic identities. There’s a sense of intentionality to how Chris moves. He’s never tried to chase trends or box himself into a genre. Instead, he follows a feeling—and that feeling has become sharper with every release.

Back then, Chris was only a few songs in but already carving out a sound that blurred the lines between alternative R&B, pop, and funk. He was experimenting with sonic textures, producing for others, and learning to balance vulnerability with craftsmanship. Today, that balance has matured. And with his latest track Vista Park, it feels like the sound has finally caught up to the vision.

Vista Park is the kind of track that doesn’t announce itself. It floats in and holds you quietly. The song is rooted in a real memory a park, a warm view, a conversation that stuck—and shaped by the emotional afterglow of rewatching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. That combination of place and emotional residue fuels the track’s soft glow. Cinematic but grounded, it sits in the in-between space between nostalgia and presence.

The pacing is intentional. Chris didn’t want another slow-dance ballad. Instead, he crafted a song that rides a groove—upbeat, but not urgent. Something you can move to without being pulled too far. It reflects his growth not just as a writer and producer, but as a performer who’s increasingly building records meant to live beyond headphones.

To understand the layers that make up Vista Park, Chris curated a playlist of songs that orbit its sonic and emotional space. But this isn’t just a playlist. It’s a document of process, a reflection of artistic headspace during a very specific creative moment.

Tommy Richman’s SOULCRUSHER provided the sonic spark—an example of the kind of energy he wanted to reinterpret through his own lens. Ralph Castelli’s Rare tapped into the romantic tension that subtly anchors the song. Todd Rundgren’s Can We Still Be Friends? opened the door to a more nuanced take on emotional resolution. These aren’t just references they’re co-authors in spirit.

Other selections push genre boundaries. Tame Impala’s Feels Like We Only Go Backwards offered a production ethos more than a sound. Mk.gee’s DNM made him reconsider the role of guitar. Feng Suave’s Half Moon Bag gave him permission to chase feel over category. These curveballs don’t fit into a neat box, but they expanded the one Chris was working from. There’s freedom in that a kind of openness that doesn’t try to control the narrative, just shape it as honestly as possible.

All of it was recorded at home. Still. Years later. The setup has barely changed: guitar, bass, mic, MIDI keyboard, a dresser as a desk. It reflects a core part of Chris’s identity not just as an artist, but as someone who has always leaned on resourcefulness. He doesn’t wait for ideal conditions. He makes with what he has. And that consistency, that commitment to making something meaningful with whatever’s around, is part of what makes his work resonate.

That minimalism is baked into the mix, too. Vista Park sounds close, but distant. Intimate, but removed. It feels like you’re watching something unfold from across the street—a balance Chris likens to The Truman Show. There’s always a window between you and the memory.

If Vista Park was a short film, it would be a summer story. A fleeting romance set in a small cottage town. Warm tones. Static frames. Wes Anderson symmetry with real-life tension. It wouldn’t try to explain everything. It would just be. It would leave quietly, leaving you to fill in the space it leaves behind.

The playlist isn’t an appendix. It’s part of the story. A reflection of what he was learning from, analyzing, and drawing courage from. Chris calls it being a student. And that’s always been central to his process—whether dissecting songs from his ‘INSPO’ playlist during his NS Radio episode or talking about how Steve Lacy, Marvin Gaye, JMSN, and Childish Gambino helped shape his artistic foundation.

What hasn’t changed since we first spoke to him is the intent. The goal has never been fame. It’s always been clarity. Communication. Honesty. To make music that documents his own story in real time, and maybe helps someone else tell theirs. It’s not about proving something. It’s about expressing something that’s already true.

SoundSubterra Sessions exists for artists like Chris—those who are building something quietly, consistently, and with care. The ones who don’t chase moments, but create them. The ones who shape culture by staying grounded in their own.

We're grateful to Chris Chand for hosting the debut episode of SoundSubterra Sessions (formerly Nefarious Supply Radio). His artistry and openness set the tone for what this series aims to be—deeper, more intentional, and fully focused on the artist’s story. We’re excited to see where he takes things next, both as an artist and as a voice in the creative community. Experience SoundSubterra Sessions, hosted and curated Chris Chand, powered by Nefarious Supply.

Be on the lookout for Episode 2 dropping soon.

If you're an artist looking to be featured, submit your music at the link below. We're always looking to highlight voices that move differently. All artists, all genres, all stages—because "artists first" is what drives us.

Juice Davis Is Done Holding Back - Sound, Story, and Full Creative Control

Some artists take years to find their voice. Juice Davis built his from the ground up. A multi-hyphenate from Virginia, Juice represents a rare type of artist—one who engineers, produces, writes, and performs everything himself. His growth is audible. What began as raw experimentation has evolved into a fully-formed sound marked by control, confidence, and emotional depth. But that growth didn’t come easy. Over the years, Juice has deleted over 100 songs, driven by a feeling that the work didn’t reflect who he was—or who he was becoming. Now, with a renewed sense of purpose, he’s entering a new chapter.

Juice’s music blends smooth R&B with high-energy hip-hop, capturing the duality of his influences and experiences. His lyrics are rooted in real life—sometimes autobiographical, sometimes imagined—but always honest. Whether reflecting on his past in “OAM” or flexing his storytelling in “PAPI JUGO,” Juice delivers music that moves between worlds while staying grounded in his own. He speaks with clarity, humility, and a quiet fire that signals bigger things to come. For him, this isn’t just music, it’s memory, motivation, and mission all wrapped into sound.


Your sound has evolved significantly over time. Looking back at your earlier work, how do you feel you’ve grown as an artist, both technically and personally?

Technically, I’ve grown as an artist by learning how to mix, master, engineer, write, produce, & perform everything myself. My earlier work you could tell I was bit of an neophyte towards doing all of those activities, but as the years went by you could hear the growth…precisely. That’s a big accomplishment to me, because I don’t have to depend on anybody else, but myself. I have the freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want. It brings a lot more joy & originality to my work as I see it evolve. It’s like, “Damn, I did this lol” & you can always tell it’s me. Especially coming from the area I’m from (DMV, 757).

Personally, I’ve seen my attitude & patience towards music grow a lot more now that I’m older. At a certain time in my life I felt though everything I put out was rushed. I didn’t let the art sit enough & that persuaded me to delete A LOT of work. People who listened to music faithfully would get upset about it LOL. Now everything I put out is not getting deleted, because I feel more confident when approached/discovered about my music. I’ve deleted over 100 songs throughout my years of making music…that time is over with now. I’m turning a new leaf.

You’re involved in both songwriting and production. Can you walk us through your typical creative process? How does an idea transform into a finished track?

99% of my music is personal, so therefore it’s the experience that gets me motivated. However I’m feeling for the day, I’ll open FL, start cooking some beats up, or just start writing/freestyling to beats that have been sent to me by others/or beats that I have produced. I’m always in front of my studio setup whenever I have free time. I’ll set the mic up, start mumbling melodies/lyrics, & whatever I feel though is catchy, I’ll do a quick run through for the song structure. If everything rolls off the tongue & I’m having fun, then it has the potential to be a song that’s finished.

Later on, if I’m not busy I’ll polish up the vocals on the track even though I really love the few first take vocals. The emotion is raw at that point & it doesn’t feel rehearsed. Throughout the day I’m always jotting down bars in my notes, so lyrics are never a problem. I can just scroll, pick whatever I come across & it’s like I’m instantly put into that mood when I first wrote the note down. I love that about my process.

Your music flows between smooth, melodic R&B and energetic hip-hop vibes. Do you intentionally balance these styles, or is it something that happens naturally?

It happens quite naturally. When you hear yourself on different type of sounds you tend to gravitate towards what “fits you”, if you know what I mean. Plus I lean towards music that my pops played around me often at a younger age. It just runs in the genes.

Your lyrics often reflect self-growth, relationships, and deep personal themes. How much of your music is autobiographical, and how much is storytelling?

I’d say it’s 40% autobiographical & 60% storytelling.

"OAM" and "PAPI JUGO" show different sides of your artistry. What inspired these tracks, and what message were you aiming to convey?

“OAM”, I was inspired by watching old camcorder videos of myself playing sports at a young age. It automatically gave me nostalgia. I’m basically writing to my older self to always stay motivated & not let predicaments hold me back…”I’m on a mission”. “PAPI JUGO”, I was inspired by Scarface & Goodfellas…it’s more of an “badass” song or a flex song. It’s me appreciating where I’m at in life, reminiscing on old times & ignoring those who are jealous of me. I always felt though people need to tell THEIR story & not think it’s corny/lame just because it doesn’t sound like the next man’s. That’s what makes a story unique…it’s different…it’s authentic.

As an independent artist, what have been the biggest challenges you’ve faced in building your career? How do you balance creative control with the business side of music?

The biggest challenges have been connecting & marketing. In VA, I can say majority of creatives have a “clique” & if you’re not…how can I say this without being too explicit…if you’re not bending over backwards for them…they won’t acknowledge your talent. When I was a teenager & I dropped songs, the numbers did very, very well. At that time you could tell the difference between a creative, a music listener, & somebody who has other hobbies. As I got older I started seeing people who never did music or those who didn’t want to be a creative start to dabble into it. Everybody around here wants to do music or have the spotlight in some damn way. This can make it difficult when nobody knows their place in the game. This is a reason why I think this particular area has such a weird time supporting each other.

My city is full of gatekeepers, arrogance & envy. But that’s okay, a lot of things are going to change within the next couple of years & I’m standing on that. We just have to come together. The marketing side of music…I’m still learning how to approach it all. I don’t have a manager, booking agent, mentor, or none of that. I’ve had a few approach me, but it didn’t feel right, you know? Seems like they didn’t want to build, so majority of the time I’m a student learning as I go. As of now, I’m just trying to grasp the “algorithm” of the internet by learning behaviors & patterns. I remember when you posted on social media & everybody who followed you saw it. It’s a totally different game now & learning it is crucial. How do I balance creative control with the business side of music? My answer is I simply try to have as much fun as I can & surround myself with people who allow me to be who I am. I think people forget about that & that’s when the art tends to descend.

Music videos and visuals play a huge role in an artist’s brand today. How do you approach the visual aspect of your music? Do you have creative control over your visuals?

I have complete creative control over my visuals. But I do have a friend, Carlos Barahona, who I’m starting to collab with more when it comes to visuals/music videos. He was the one who directed the “OAM” video, very talented guy, shout out to him. When it comes to the approach I always want it to be natural & not so rehearsed. For cover arts I like to use random pictures that I take throughout my days that may correlate with whatever song I’m releasing. Then I’ll try to bring it to life with motion picture effects. I think it’s a good way to keep people engaged.

Can you describe your most memorable performance so far? What made it stand out, and how has performing shaped your artistry?

My most memorable performance was at my high school’s talented show back in 2014. I performed two songs that night: “What You Know” & “No Juice”. The crowd’s reaction was nuts. It was amazing to see how quickly people caught on to the lyrics, shouting it back to me as I performed. This showed me how much of an impact my music had on people & it let me know what pocket I needed to stick to as far as my sound. You can find the full performance on my YouTube page.

Do you have any new projects, collaborations, or surprises in the works that fans should be looking out for?

Haha, yes, for sure! I do have an album coming, fasho. A lot has been in the making, mainly a reason why I haven’t been as active online. I don’t want to say too much, but right now I’ve been working with Omar Washington, P. Bentley, R3CESS, Don B, & Klu. When the time is right, things will start rolling out back to back

What do you want to be remembered for when people talk about Juice Davis years from now?

A pioneer, a hard-worker, a musician, & overall a humble man with a message that moves people


Shoutout to Juice Davis for taking the time to chop it up with us and let us into his world. From the technical growth to the personal evolution, his journey is a reminder that artistry is just as much about self-trust as it is about skill. Whether he’s pulling inspiration from old camcorder footage, flipping samples from voicemail clips, or blending storytelling with imagination—there’s a raw honesty in the way Juice creates that we respect heavy.

If you’re not already tapped in, go run it up. Follow Juice on Instagram to stay in tune with what’s next and stream his full catalog on Spotify. This current chapter is only the beginning.

And if you’re an artist doing it your own way—writing your story on your own terms—submit your music to us here. We’re always looking for new voices that move different.

The Vault Radio - Episode 1

Welcome to The Vault Radio, Episode 1—a monthly curation dedicated to sharing authentic, hand-picked music we've genuinely been enjoying. Each episode will highlight not only fresh underground releases but also older music that might've flown under the radar yet still deserves your ears. While keeping you in tune with new artists and sounds is important, it's equally valuable to pause and give overlooked gems the attention they deserve.

Music is deeply personal, subjective, and shaped by our individual experiences. This playlist isn't about chasing trends or viral hits; it’s about real music we've connected with personally and sincerely want to share. Every selection here is intentional—tracks and albums that resonate with our current experiences, moods, and inspirations. You might connect with some immediately or grow to appreciate others over time. Either way, there's something real here to discover. So, welcome to Episode 1 of The Vault Radio. Sit back, relax, and dive in. Who knows? You might just find your new favorite track here.

AIR GUITAR by $avvy

$avvy’s latest album, AIR GUITAR, represents a significant sonic shift from his previous projects, inspired by his move from Nashville to Los Angeles. This transition wasn't just geographical it was creative, personal, and deeply transformative. Embracing a DIY mentality, many tracks started as raw bedroom recordings, later refined in professional settings. The process mirrors the album’s overall theme: experimentation, reinvention, and pushing past boundaries. Tracks like "Whiplash" and "JESUS BBQ" are prime examples of this boldness, showcasing his ability to blend raw emotion with structured artistry.

The album draws influence from a variety of sources Michael Jackson’s meticulous musicality, the psychological tension of films like Whiplash, and personal experiences of love, loss, and self-discovery. Each track builds upon these inspirations to create a project that is both personal and universal. The title AIR GUITAR itself symbolizes uninhibited expression, capturing that childhood joy of pretending to play along to your favorite songs, embodying the idea of feeling the music in its purest form.

Notably, Teezo Touchdown, known for his genre-blending artistry, further validated the album’s reach by incorporating some of these tracks into his live performances. This kind of organic recognition underscores how AIR GUITAR resonates beyond just its core audience, highlighting its authenticity and staying power.

Listeners are encouraged to experience the album front-to-back without distractions, allowing themselves to sink into the sonic textures and narratives woven throughout. Ideally, AIR GUITAR is best heard on warm, reflective evenings, with the California sunset in view a fitting backdrop for a project that captures both nostalgia and forward motion, personal reflection and universal connection.

 

STRIVE FOR BETTER by Lango

Lango’s STRIVE FOR BETTER is more than just an album, it’s a deeply personal reflection of growth, transition, and self-awareness. Emerging organically from a period spent pursuing a master's in Biotechnology, this project captures the duality of chasing new dreams while navigating emotional complexities. Lango steps away from overproduction, opting instead for a sample-heavy, mellow soundscape that enhances the project’s raw and introspective nature. It’s music for moments of solitude, deep thought, and personal evolution.

Tracks like "Never Be" and "Thinking Bout Me" dig into themes of insecurity, the fear of not being enough, and the emotional weight of personal relationships. Lango’s willingness to explore these unfiltered emotions gives the album a sense of relatability and honesty, making it easy for listeners to see reflections of their own experiences within his words.

"Safety," a particularly powerful track, was shaped by a personal tragedy, revealing a shift in perspective regarding life, loss, and the unpredictability of the world. "Pushin 30" serves as both a declaration and a reflection—acknowledging how time changes us, yet also reaffirming that personal growth doesn’t come with an expiration date. Instead of viewing aging as a limitation, Lango embraces it as an opportunity to evolve, explore new ambitions, and redefine what success looks like.

What makes STRIVE FOR BETTER stand out is Lango’s approach to emotional openness not as vulnerability, but as a tool for connection. He presents his emotions not as weaknesses but as stepping stones toward understanding himself and the world around him. Free from the pressures of mainstream appeal, this album serves as a reminder that personal expression holds its own weight and impact. STRIVE FOR BETTER is a project that doesn't demand attention; instead, it quietly invites listeners in, allowing them to take what they need from its message.

 

COASTLANDS by Mekhi Fayson

Mekhi Fayson's COASTLANDS is a sonic voyage through self-discovery, existential reflection, and deeply personal storytelling. Blending hip-hop, R&B, and indie influences, the album is a carefully woven narrative that mirrors Mekhi’s own journey shaped by personal challenges, relocations, and a desire to explore identity beyond surface-level understanding.

At its core, COASTLANDS is a meditation on fate, choice, and the unseen forces shaping our lives. "R33" is a powerful example of this, where Mekhi reflects on the unpredictability of life through the lens of an experience with his dream car capturing themes of control, luck, and the inescapable nature of cause and effect. "Traffic" and "Aksumite" highlight Mekhi’s ability to shift between personal experiences and grander philosophical themes, making the project feel both intimate and expansive.

Mekhi is unafraid to bring listeners into his imaginative world, where reality and fantasy blend seamlessly. Characters like Sadiq Nasty, a persona embodying selfishness and emotional detachment, serve as contrasts to Mekhi’s more introspective, self-aware nature, creating a layered storytelling experience that goes beyond traditional autobiographical lyricism. The influence of films like ATL and Boyz N the Hood can be felt throughout, adding a cinematic quality to the project’s atmosphere.

Musically, COASTLANDS doesn’t settle into one specific sound. Instead, it pulls from a variety of influences, from Radiohead’s atmospheric production to Griselda’s gritty hip-hop textures, to the nostalgic warmth of 90s R&B icons like SWV and Aaliyah. This melting pot of inspirations allows the album to feel fluid, adapting to different moods while maintaining a cohesive emotional core.

Standout tracks like "Ocean/Summer" and "Obsidian" showcase Mekhi’s talent for crafting immersive soundscapes, blending lush instrumentation with poignant lyrics that feel as if they were pulled straight from late-night, introspective thoughts. There’s a dreamlike quality to COASTLANDS, making it feel less like an album and more like an experience—an invitation to reflect on where you’ve been, where you’re going, and the unseen forces guiding your path.

Ultimately, COASTLANDS is an album about perspective. It challenges listeners to look beyond the tangible and consider the connections between actions, emotions, and destiny. It’s an artistic milestone for Mekhi Fayson, solidifying his ability to craft music that is both deeply personal and universally resonant.

Spotlight Tracks - Curator's Favorites:

"Whiplash" by $avvy – $avvy continues to push boundaries with "Whiplash," a standout track that fuses raw emotion with dynamic production. The song encapsulates his fearless artistic reinvention, blending introspective lyrics with high-energy instrumentation. It represents the moment where his creative risks fully pay off, offering a glimpse into his sonic evolution.

"Safety" by Lango – Lango delivers an emotionally weighty track in "Safety," a song inspired by real-life fear and reflection on personal loss. The lyrics depict the unease that lingers after experiencing tragedy, giving listeners a deeply personal yet universally relatable moment. Its understated production makes space for Lango’s storytelling, making it one of the most intimate and powerful moments on Strive for Better.

"Obsidian" by Mekhi Fayson – "Obsidian" is a masterclass in haunting, poetic lyricism. Mekhi Fayson’s introspective storytelling shines as he explores themes of resilience, self-reflection, and transformation. The track stands as a pivotal moment in Coastlands, highlighting his ability to weave deeply personal experiences into larger philosophical reflections, all within a genre-blending soundscape.

"Father" by Jim Legxacy – Jim Legxacy presents a raw and deeply personal narrative in "Father," a track that delves into generational cycles, identity, and emotional vulnerability. His fusion of alternative influences and hip-hop elements gives the track a layered complexity, making it a must-listen for those who appreciate music that prioritizes both sound and substance.

"Flight or Flight" by Three65 – This track captures the tension of high-stakes decision-making, embodying the chaotic energy of life’s turning points. Three65’s urgent delivery and charged production mirror the intensity of facing one’s fears, making "Flight or Flight" an adrenaline-fueled, thought-provoking listen.

"What You Wish For" by Lexa Gates – Lexa Gates crafts a dreamlike soundscape in "What You Wish For," a track that feels like a hazy reflection on ambition and longing. Ethereal production, layered vocals, and deep introspection create an immersive listening experience that lingers long after the song ends.

"The Tan Commandments" by Yung Manny – Yung Manny’s signature wit and sharp lyricism are on full display in "The Tan Commandments." The track is packed with clever wordplay and high-energy production, making it an undeniable anthem. It’s a prime example of his ability to balance humor, technical skill, and social commentary all in one song.

"Nag Champa" by Sincere Hunte – "Nag Champa" is a soulful, meditative track that radiates warmth and introspection. Sincere Hunte’s laid-back yet intentional delivery, combined with smooth, jazzy production, makes it a perfect soundtrack for late-night reflection or relaxed contemplation.

 

Thank you for checking out this edition of The Vault Radio. We appreciate you taking the time to explore these artists and tracks with us. Music discovery is a collective experience, and we'd love to hear what’s been in your personal rotation lately. Tag us @NefariousSupply with your favorite underground finds so we can check them out and continue curating sounds that deserve to be heard. Your picks might inspire future episodes and help spotlight even more deserving artists.

Are you an artist looking to get featured on The Vault Radio or even have a full write-up with us? We’re always on the lookout for fresh talent. Submit your music here, and let’s build something great together!

November Day - Embracing Chaos, Imperfection, and the Art of Letting Go

Some artists make music that feels like a fleeting moment in time, while others craft soundscapes that pull you deep into their world. November Day falls into the latter category. With his latest album, Brown Songs, he takes listeners on an immersive journey filled with raw emotion, experimental textures, and an unfiltered creative process. Known for his DIY approach, November Day blends slowcore, noise rock, and lo-fi aesthetics with deeply personal storytelling. His music isn’t just something you listen to—it’s something you experience.

In this interview, we dive into the creative process behind Brown Songs, the struggles of staying true to his sound, and how he’s already gearing up for his next artistic evolution. From recording on a four-track cassette recorder to letting accidental samples shape his songs, November Day embraces imperfection in a way that makes his music feel alive. Read on as he shares his thoughts on growth, inspiration, and the freedom of making music without limits.

Your latest album, Brown Songs, feels deeply personal and sonically immersive. What was your mindset while creating it, and how did you push yourself differently compared to past projects?

I was in a bit of a reclusive stage after finishing my previous album, Lucky; that album took a lot of emotional energy to make and I wasn’t sure what to do next. Then one day my dashingly charismatic roommate Tobias Fever and I were at the local music shop and I saw a Tascam MF-P01 four track cassette recorder behind the glass and just knew I had to have it. That whole project, along with the subsequently released project Blue Songs, were made entirely on that four track. When I first got to play with it I only bought a microphone and a tiny Behringer synth so the opening track is mostly guitar drone/acoustic until the random Three Six Mafia song plays, which for the record, I did 𝘯𝘰𝘵 know was going to happen until it did. You can pretty much hear me adapt to the tempo in the recording which I find pretty fun. There are plenty of moments like that on the album: samples I only obtained because I was using 2 for 1 dollar cassettes that already had shit on them. Like on the song Flowers, there’s this voicemail of this dude calling his fiancé’s parents and just being a real horrible human being. It made me feel sick in a warm, humid way so I put him on the album. Love that stuff. Front to back it only took me three days to make Brown Songs; it was me learning a new means of recording and really, learning how to have fun making music again.

You handled all the guitar work and production yourself. What was the most difficult aspect of working entirely solo, and did that process bring any unexpected creative breakthroughs?

I find making music alone to be extremely cathartic. On Brown Songs for example, where every song was made in under an hour, usually like 30 minutes tops by myself in my room, I was able to capture exactly how I was feeling or what was going on that moment, unfiltered. I want to always be moving closer to that sense of self, or sense of moment in my music. I think working mostly alone and slowly building my own creative habits is best for my more personal work. I recall early on in my experience producing (around 2 years ago) a lot of people wouldn’t fully get what I was going for sonically and would always lob the same critiques of “𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧” or “𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨” and while I do think it’s crucial to listen to what people have to say about your music; after all it’s the ears of others that will be hearing more than your own, I know for a fact that if I took to heart everything people had said instead of trusting my gut instincts with how I felt my music should sound and feel, the music would become something other than a 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 extension of myself, and we’d never want that.

There’s a strong emotional weight in your music. Do you write from lived experiences, or do you use songwriting as a way to explore emotions outside of yourself?

Most of my songs are definitely lived experiences; my album Dune for example is like, word for word my entire experience with a person from where I was standing. I feel like making music in this way is important for me in my healing processes. If something is really affecting me, I pretty much 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 move on until I’ve written every possible emotion out, and then some. Recently though I have found myself moved by fictional characters to write my stories. The other day I was watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer (highly recommend) and couldn’t help but feel depressed on behalf of the main characters’ over their constant struggles finding love, since they’re all so busy every night killing monsters and stuff. I finished an especially sad episode and had about it ready in an hour! It felt really good to step outside myself to write, I think I’m gonna try it more.

The album features a mix of downtempo, ambient songs and more energetic, guitar-driven moments. How do you approach that balance when structuring an album?

I wouldn’t necessarily consider myself the greatest guitarist, or even a traditionally 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 one, but I believe I have a knack for improvisation. A lot of songs I will have one idea going in and end up with a completely different sounding finished product. The key to me is to embrace whatever shifts come as the song develops. Did I start this as a slowcore song? 𝘠𝘦𝘴. Does it now have boom bap fart drums and a loud warbling synth? 𝘠𝘦𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes I surprise myself and crack out a pretty catchy guitar melody that can carry me through a whole indie/rock song; 5C and Peter Time come to mind. I think I’m gonna spend more time getting consistent with my guitar playing this year so I can lean into more focused efforts melodically. I never wanna lose sight of the chaos though.

What’s a song on Brown Songs that was particularly challenging to create—whether technically, emotionally, or just in finding the right sound?

𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. I was so intimidated recording that song. It’s a cover of one of my favorites, “The Man Who Was Wrong” by Dr. Dog. I don’t really know any traditional guitar chords so I had to learn my first, and initially I wasn’t really sure what direction I wanted to take since the original song is almost five minutes long. I settled for cutting it to the first verse and chorus and was pretty happy with the result. A lot of my friends say that song has my best singing and I am in love with the sound of me stomping on my floor and cracking a snare drum with my knuckle for the percussive element. I’ve decided to try to put a cover on every album from now on to keep me on my toes; I covered “The Narcissist” by Dean Blunt and Inga Copeland on Blue Songs, which was a lot of fun. Definitely check out Dean Blunt if you haven’t, his sound was the most prime influence over the 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘺 of Blue Songs, which is the evolved, subjectivity uglier little brother of Brown Songs.

Many independent artists struggle with finding an audience while staying true to their sound. How do you navigate promotion while keeping your creative vision intact?

At the end of the day I think it’s most important that the integrity of the art is not hindered by the fact that it needs to be promoted to the people. If you change your art for the world, you will never find the audience who would have appreciated it for what you 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 it to be, and you will never find the artist you were 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 to find within yourself. Dean Blunt comes to mind again. His music is awesome and so ahead of its time. The first album I heard by him was “The Narcissist II” released in 2012. That album is a fucking horror movie. It’s all recorded into tape and the chords are so eerie yet comforting and sometimes sexy even; he’s singing in this smooth baritone register through the lens of this 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 man, as he gains the trust of this woman and becomes more and more violent until he eventually kills her. He plays the role so well and the music is insanely good! I bet a lot of people wouldn’t have made an album that conceptually risky. Dean Blunt is rising to the top of the industry nowadays; where would he be if he hadn’t stuck to his gut instincts way back in 2012?

Your music has a very cinematic quality to it. Do you have visual or film influences that shape your approach to songwriting?

While I don’t 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 get a lot of inspiration from movies or shows, that seems to be changing as I touched on earlier. And even outside of film, I would definitely say that visuals are one of the places I get the most potent inspiration. More often than not, I base a lot of my albums’ sounds off the cover arts. I usually go through a few arts over the process, but having a visual element tied to the music while making it is absolutely crucial for me. And I also want my music to be something that you automatically visualize while you’re hearing it; keeping in room ambience and intentionally making sure there are random natural sounds and patterns in the music is something I find 𝘱𝘪𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭 to maintaining the essence of my current sound. So is panning. In my experience, an interesting or unexpected pan will tickle more ears than a shiny mix or thumpy bass 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴.

If you could score a film with your music, what kind of movie would it be and why?

It would have to be something depressing, that’s for sure. My song Chuck was written about my experience accidentally killing an animal with my car. It looked to be a large woodchuck or gopher type of guy. I felt his whole body crunch underneath my wheel, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. Those are the kinds of moments that make me sit down and start playing my guitar. 9. All of it man, I’m gonna do it all. I’m currently offloading most of my time into a 90s/2000s boom bap inspired space album as a pitched down buff space guy named Spazeman Spliff. And it’s 𝘎𝘈𝘚. My musical journey started with rap and it feels so right to step back into that cockpit with fresh ears and ideas. It’s like, what sounds the most fun right now? Lemme do 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. Me and all my friends at Exxitworld have a really cool group tale planned that’s gonna be a blast to make as well! I have a lot of fun stuff planned this year, and while I’m far from done satiating my lofi-noise-slowcore-rock-DIY-experimental-garbo-music itch, November is just one month. There’s a whole universe out there. A year from now I wanna be making gospel music too. I want to serve my God in everything I do, especially my music.

If someone were to listen to Brown Songs years from now, what’s the one thing you’d want them to take away from it?

Be yourself! Brown Songs and, by extension, Blue Songs, are just exercises in me having as much fun as possible making music. If I thought it would sound interesting or funny or weird, I would do it. I think we need more of that nowadays. Get outside of your comfort zone. Fuck whatever you are doing, do something else. You can always come back later with more perspective and varied artistic DNA than you ever could have gained just doing the same thing over and over; you will thank yourself. And stop caring what people think. They are always learning, always changing. So are you, and so am I. You might not love your newest song a few years from now but if you follow your heart’s intrigue instead of what the masses accept as what you should be making, you will be damn glad you chose to do what felt right.

November Day is an artist who refuses to stay in one lane, constantly evolving while staying true to his vision. Brown Songs is just one chapter in his journey, and with new projects already in the works, now is the time to tap in. Follow him on Instagram, Twitter, Spotify, and SoundCloud to keep up with his latest drops.

Want to be featured on Nefarious Supply? Our submissions are always open, and we’re constantly looking for new talent to showcase. Click the link to submit your music and stay updated with our latest interviews and editorials. Let’s keep building.

The Artist Playbook: A Guide for Underground Artists

Welcome to The Artist Playbook, your comprehensive and step-by-step guide to building a thriving music career from the ground up. Whether you're just starting out, seeking clarity on your next steps, or looking to sharpen your existing approach, this playbook provides practical, actionable advice specifically tailored for underground artists ready to navigate the complexities of the music industry.

Over the next ten months, we'll break down essential topics in a structured, easy-to-follow manner. We'll explore critical areas such as branding, content creation, marketing and promotion strategies, distribution channels, and monetization opportunities. Each month will focus on a central theme, carefully unfolding through three targeted entries designed to build methodically on the previous lessons. This systematic approach allows you to absorb essential industry insights and immediately apply practical knowledge to your own career. By the end of 2025, you'll have a comprehensive, actionable roadmap, empowering you to step confidently into 2026 with clarity and a focused direction.

This guide isn't simply a collection of general industry tips, it's a detailed, practical, and straight-to-the-point resource designed for ambitious underground artists committed to turning passion into measurable, sustainable progress.

We'll kick things off by laying a solid foundation: clearly defining your "why," setting precise, realistic goals, and mastering consistency.

Week 1: Laying the Foundation

Understanding Your "Why"

Before diving into strategies, platform decisions, or detailed marketing tactics, pause and reflect deeply on this fundamental question:

Why do I want to make music?

Your "why" acts as your anchor, grounding you when progress feels slow and motivating you during challenging times. Take some quiet moments to genuinely reflect on your core motivation:

  • Are you driven by a deep desire for self-expression, storytelling, or personal therapy?

  • Do you aspire to significantly impact your local community or elevate a particular music genre?

  • Is your primary goal artistic fulfillment, financial stability, or a balanced pursuit of both?

Having a clear "why" profoundly influences every strategic choice, from your brand positioning to audience targeting and interaction. This reflection creates a firm foundation for authenticity and long-term engagement.

Setting Realistic Goals

While dreaming big fuels creativity, turning those dreams into reality requires pragmatic, structured goals. Replace broad aspirations with SMART goals (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-bound). Here's how you can effectively frame your objectives:

  • Bad Goal: “I want a huge fanbase.”

  • Good Goal: “Within three months, I will release my debut single and attract 500 engaged listeners through targeted social media campaigns.”

  • Bad Goal: “I want to become a full-time musician.”

  • Good: “I will generate $500 monthly from music activities such as streaming, merchandise sales, and performances by December 2024.”

Clear, actionable goals will provide clarity, direction, and measurable markers to gauge your progress and refine your approach.

Staying Consistent

Consistency often triumphs over raw talent alone. The artists who achieve sustained success aren't always the most talented, they are typically the most disciplined and persistent. Here’s how to ensure you remain consistent:

  • Establish a Clear Routine: Schedule fixed, dedicated times each week for music creation, content production, and active audience engagement.

  • Batch Your Tasks: Maximize productivity by recording several songs, designing multiple social media posts, or producing visual content in batches during dedicated sessions.

  • Regular Progress Tracking: Maintain a simple log documenting weekly accomplishments, which can motivate you by clearly visualizing your achievements.

  • Maintain Flexibility: Being consistent does not mean rigidly sticking to ineffective practices, be open to adjusting your approach when necessary to optimize your results.

Developing disciplined habits in these areas early on significantly increases your chances of long-term success.

Building Early Habits

Strong habits formed at the beginning of your career provide a solid foundation for future success. Schedule regular reflection sessions to analyze your progress, identify opportunities for improvement, and recalibrate your strategy. Actively seek feedback from peers or mentors to gain fresh perspectives and avoid stagnation.

Leveraging Your Unique Strengths

Identifying and leveraging your unique strengths is critical for distinguishing yourself in a crowded field. Determine your core strengths, whether it's lyrical ability, production quality, engaging visuals, or charismatic performances and strategically use these strengths to build your brand. Amplifying your distinct talents ensures you authentically resonate with your audience and solidifies your artistic identity.

Final Thoughts

This is just the beginning of your exciting journey. Building a successful music career requires patience, dedication, and strategic actions. By clearly defining your “why,” setting actionable goals, and cultivating disciplined consistency, you're establishing a robust foundation for sustainable success. Remember, every renowned artist was once exactly where you stand today—take purposeful steps, continually learn, and adapt courageously.

In our next post, we'll dive deeper into branding basics, how to craft a powerful, authentic identity that deeply resonates with your listeners.

Let’s build greatness together.

Mekhi Fayson – A Sound of Transformation & Becoming

Some artists are in search of their sound,Mekhi Fayson is in search of truth. His music has always been more than just a reflection of where he is; it’s an evolving sonic and spiritual manifestation of self-discovery, lineage, and identity.

After the introspective journey of Coastlands, Mekhi’s next project represents a shift in consciousness. The opposing forces of Sadiq Nasty and Mekhi Fayson, two identities that once battled for dominance—are now unified. Through indigenous rituals, astral traveling, and shadow work, he has transformed both as an artist and as a person.

But this is just the beginning. His new music is cosmic, meditative, and psychedelic, pushing sound into new dimensions. Inspired by artists like Dean Blunt, The Lijadu Sisters, and Panda Bear, and fueled by an immersive dive into independent film, ego deaths, and self-acceptance, this album isn’t just a continuation of Coastlands—it’s a manifestation of everything he’s been working toward.

In this exclusive interview, Mekhi speaks about the balance of intention and spontaneity in his creative process, the evolution of his writing and production, and why this next project is the most important thing he’s ever made. Read on as we step into his world.


Last time, you introduced us to Sadiq Nasty and Mekhi Fayson as two opposing forces. Have their stories continued in your new music? Are you building upon that world, or have you moved toward a different narrative?

Sadiq Nasty represented the ego. Mekhi Fayson has evolved past his own ego and realized the answer to his ego. I have continued their stories on my upcoming album, however they aren't opposing forces anymore. They are now one and live in harmony within my spirit. Outside of music, intertwining them became a big transformation for me. I wasn’t aligned or educated enough to understand the two co-existing. it was hard at first but internal shadow work & indigenous rituals changed everything for me.

Sonically, where are you pushing yourself now? Are there any new influences—musical, literary, or visual—that have reshaped your approach to creating?

Well after “Coastlands” I felt very tied up in where to go. Even going back to take inspiration from my older work. It was a process for me to understand how i wanted things sonically to sound in my head. I already had sonics in mind, i just needed to dig deeper. 2023-2024, i was beginning my work in IFA (Isese), Reading more and Watching a lot of films. Listening to a lot of Panda Bear, Dean Blunt, The Lijadu Sisters, Micheal Jackson & Stevie Wonder. A lot of rituals, meditation, astral traveling & ego deaths. Coastlands was about me learning & searching for my lineage. This project is about embracing said culture and becoming. I also have a blog now where i’ve create a world for others to live in. pyritetears.tumblr.com is where you can explore it all. My influences. My day to day thoughts. May even upload a demo on just because i feel like it. Helps bring people into my world.

Coastlands explored themes of identity, lineage, and self-discovery. Has your perspective on these themes changed since that album? How are you exploring them differently in your new work?

No they haven’t. They just developed deeper into my day to day. Realizing more and more these projects serve as a chapter of my life either beginning or ending. They serve as a piece of my identity being exploited to the world. It is my choice on how i’d like to display my identity. I’d say though, these days it has becoming more easier to convey them creatively and sonically. A lot of the exploration is discovered with intuitive writing, the correct choice of melody & execution. If none of those align… i probably won’t even go through with recording the song. Sometimes it may even feel like a ancestors is using me as a outlet for said creative messages. i just flow with it if it feels aligned.

What’s changed about the way you write and produce music? Do you find yourself being more intentional in the process, or do you still allow spontaneity to lead the way

Both Honestly. One day I wanna write a Ballad then the next i wanna make Pop or Shoegaze . It still has to have some form of structure. some foundation to live upon instead of clouded ideas. I play the piano consistently, so a lot of my songs now started with chords & melody before I begin to the song. Drums and programming come after. ”Handsome” was intentional as far as writing. However it feels very raw to me. formless. I didn’t add ad libs because it was a demo for someone else. then i said F*ck it I’m going to just put it out. Leaked it on Sound-Cloud. Have fun with intention.

Your music has always had a cinematic quality, pulling inspiration from films like ATL and Boyz N the Hood. Are there any new films or visual aesthetics influencing your storytelling today?

I’ve watched over 100 films or more this year with my girl. No lie, I really can’t tell you guys haha. Let’s just say I’ve been watching a lot of indie films this year & I love them so much. I love big releases but its something about indie films having small budgets, They have kinda have a lot of room for failure, growth, and more to prove as a film. Maybe one day i’ll put out a list of the movies that influence my creative process.

How do you decide who to collaborate with? Are there any specific artists or producers you’ve worked with recently that brought out something new in you?

I never really narrow down who exactly I want to work with. Somethings really do happen. Alignment basically. Outside of my close friends in my team, The record with Mike Hector was new for me. I felt like i was writing something from my child-hood. Turnt up but elegant. Raw. If it wasn’t for Shal Brenta, the record wouldn’t exist. We have another collaboration as well. The world will eventually hear it.

How has performing your music changed your relationship with it? Have you learned anything about yourself from seeing how audiences react to your work in a live setting?

I Performed a lot in 2022-2023 and have not been on stage since. I think with Coastlands, i was very rap heavy with my stage performance. Which was cool but i totally lacked stage presence. I was shy & sometimes spiritually not on stage. Felt soul-less. It will be exciting doing the new songs live though. Thinking about incorporating live instruments this time or playing things myself now that I’m singing more. A lot of practicing at home been helping. I have a vocal coach now haha.

Without giving too much away, what can you tell us about the themes or emotions you’re exploring in your next project? How does it contrast with what you’ve done before?

Cosmic. Meditative. Indigenous. Psychedelic. Nostalgic. & Celestial. It what I was aiming for in “Coastlands.” however I couldn’t create the exact textures & landscape I truly wanted without experience. Like i said before, if “Coastlands” was the research, this album is the true manifestation of it. Without that experience, I’d still be searching and creating.

If someone were to discover your music five years from now, what do you hope they take away from it? What’s the lasting imprint you want to leave with your work?

That I was aiming for forever & not perfection. perfectionism is ill-ness I experience. Of course my art will live beyond me. Maybe it won’t. Use me as a inspiration tho. Influence. Teacher. Student. Whatever. Just consider me in the eye of forever. A True wizard who lived forever.


This marks the second time we’ve had the opportunity to feature Mekhi Fayson on our platform, and once again, he’s given us a glimpse into an artistic journey that’s as introspective as it is boundary-pushing. His evolution, from the lineage-exploring themes of Coastlands to the cosmic, meditative, and psychedelic world of his upcoming project, shows an artist fully stepping into his vision. It’s clear that Mekhi isn’t just making music; he’s creating an experience, a world, a sound that exists outside of time. We’re honored to share his story and can’t wait to see how this next chapter unfolds.

If you want to stay tapped in with Mekhi and keep up with his upcoming project, be sure to follow him on Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr and Spotify.

For those looking to stay up to date with Nefarious Supply, follow us on Instagram, Spotify and Twitter and sign up for our newsletter to stay locked in with our latest artist features, interviews, and exclusive content.

If you’re an artist looking to be featured, you can submit your music for consideration here. A huge thank you to Mekhi Fayson for returning to the platform and continuing to share his creative journey with us. We’re looking forward to everything he has in store, and we’ll be watching, and listening every step of the way.

Why We’re Reimagining Nefarious Supply

The underground has always been the foundation of creativity and cultural revolution. It’s where raw expression thrives, free from the constraints of mainstream trends. It’s not tied to one genre or medium but embodies the spirit of innovation, individuality, and risk. Yet as underground culture gains visibility in today’s digital world, it faces a critical challenge: maintaining its authenticity in an age dominated by algorithms, fleeting trends, and surface-level engagement.

At Nefarious Supply, we’ve spent some time reflecting on what it means to preserve and amplify underground culture. To us, the underground is more than a creative scene—it’s the pulse of culture itself. It’s a rhythm of voices, ideas, and untold stories that deserve to be celebrated, not diluted. Our mission isn’t just to protect this essence but to elevate it, ensuring it remains untamed, impactful, and connected to its roots while embracing new possibilities.

Why the Underground Needs Reimagining

Too often, underground culture is reduced to a stereotype: raw, gritty, and waiting to "make it." This narrative misses the point. The underground isn’t a stepping stone—it’s a destination, a thriving ecosystem where creators redefine culture and audiences find deeper, more meaningful connections.

By reimagining the underground, we’re not changing its core—we’re building on its foundation to unlock its full potential. We’re creating a space where creativity flourishes, unbound by trends or constraints, and where collaboration is a driving force for progress. This is about celebrating what’s real while fostering growth and evolution.

Our Mission

Nefarious Supply is committed to supporting and amplifying underground culture in every form. Here’s how we’re doing it:

  1. Creating Opportunities for Creators: From curated submissions to artist spotlights and collaborative projects, we’re equipping artists with tools to connect meaningfully with audiences who value their vision.

  2. Fostering a Collaborative Community: The underground thrives when creators and fans unite. Our platform is designed to inspire collaboration, spark dialogue, and fuel sustainable growth.

  3. Delivering Quality Without Compromise: Every choice we make reflects our commitment to excellence—whether it’s the artists we feature, the stories we tell, or the content we produce.

This mission is bigger than us. It’s about a collective belief in the power of underground culture to shape the future of creativity.

What Reimagining Means for You

Reimagining the underground is about creating an inclusive space where everyone has a role to play. For creators, it means finding a platform that respects your vision and amplifies your art without compromising its authenticity. For fans, it’s about discovering work that resonates deeply and connecting with a community that values genuine expression. For the culture, it’s about ensuring underground creativity remains vibrant and impactful for generations.

Every submission, every conversation, and every collaboration pushes us closer to the future we’re building together. Let’s make it happen.

Join us. Submit your work or subscribe to stay connected, and let’s reimagine the underground together.