LU: Is there a certain message that you are trying to spread through your music?
FS: I’m always trying to tell a story or bring across something. I can only speak on this album in particular, War for Peace, and I think I would say that the message is try to get knowledge of self, because with knowledge of self and self determination, you can do anything you want. That’s kind of the message of the album, and what I’m trying to show people. Overall, I’m just trying to spread good knowledge, good vibes, bring dope art to the table, bring good lyricism, good beats, and a perspective that people have never heard. The hip-hop community has never really heard what it’s like to be in Kingston, aside from reggae artists and dancehall artists. I feel there are certain parts of the picture that they’re not really painting, and I feel like, with our artform, we can really bring that out.
LU: Are there any specific Jamaican-based artists that have had a big impact on you, across all genres?
FS: One of my favorite local artists right now is Jr. Gong, I think that most people my age would agree. Even before I signed on to this call, I was talking to someone online saying “Gong is probably the dancehall artist of our generation.” You can’t put him into one box—he does both dancehall and reggae, and he can even rap. He used to be a rapper before anyone knew of him. A lot of people don’t know that. He’s really taken dancehall to the point where he can make full dancehall songs and make a dancehall album. A lot of artists aren’t really taking it to that level, and I mean there’s some like him, I mean you have people like Aidonia and to some extent a Vybz Kartel. All of these people are people you grow up listening to, and influenced me a certain way, but isn’t always reflected in the most obvious ways.
LU: When I listen to your music, I notice that there isn’t a lot of patois. Was that a conscious decision, or when you rap does it just come out naturally like that?
FS: People criticize us, especially people in the local community, and say “oh, but it doesn’t sound Jamaican.” But what I found is, if I’m making a form of music that is expected to have a certain sound, and the audience I’m going for doesn’t always understand the way we speak, I can’t really express myself in a way that’s going to force me to compromise my message, and do something that won’t allow me to reach my audience. On the album there is a song called “Blazing,” where it’s a reggae-influenced beat, and basically I’m going from patois to English. That was definitely a deliberate attempt to show people, hey, we can do this as well and [get] people who listen to reggae and dancehall to listen to hip-hop without even realizing they’re listening to a hip hop song.
Generally, I find it easier to rap in English than in patois— it’s challenging to rap in patois without it sounding like a dancehall artist. I feel like we are getting there. We have the best of both worlds because we can flip the patois and make it sound original and then we can come with the Yankee slang, the slang you guys use where a guy in New york, like you, would be like “hey he sounds just like us.” As long as we do both of them the right way, it can work.
LU: What about Kingston is pivotal towards your inspiration, that you can’t find anywhere else?
FS: I think Jamaica is a very special place in the world. I feel like what everyone says, it’s the heart of the world, everyone wants to be here and live here just because of what they’ve heard or what they’ve seen. And it really is a paradise. But because of what they heard or what they’ve seen about Kingston is that it’s not only a paradise but also a slum, and there is so much stuff going on from the level of blatant corruption in the government to the amount of police killings, to just corruption all over. Everyone is trying to find a way to survive no matter what. There is a lot to write about. This is the place that produced Marcus Garvey, Bob Marley, and even helped produce the hip-hop culture itself by way of Kool Herc, so it’s only right for Kingston to have it’s voice in this medium. That’s all I really wanted to bring to the table, cause a lot of the rappers I listen to were from Queens and Brooklyn, and the stories they are talking about are not much different than in Kingston.
LU: Where do you see yourself a year from now?
FS: I would love to know that my album it is well received by the hip-hop community. That’s my aim. Doing hip-hop locally, there is not much love we are going to get here, unless it’s from the people who are genuinely into hip hop. It’s just people who are fronting and hate what you’re doing. I would love to travel more. I see bigger things in the future and I like that way it’s shaping up already.
LU: What are you doing right now to reach out more to the global hip hop community?
FS: I was in Canada last year, for the Manifesto Festival—it’s a big festival that happens in Toronto, and I’m actually a part of Manifesto Jamaica, which is the sibling organization. Afrika Bambaataa was at one event building with Che Kothari, the executive director of Manifesto, and he’s starting up a new chapter of Universal Zulu Nation, which I’m also going to be a part of. And this new chapter will have an initiative where we’ll have a global hip-hop festival union. We’ll have promoters and organizers from literally all over the world, coming together to share information and resources and basically discuss how we can have different artists performing at different places, and have a big, global hip-hop event.