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Hip-hop artist Demetrius on how he got into music, potentially ripping off Wale, and his love for R&B

BY COLIN MCGUIRE Special to The News-Post

The man goes by the name Demetrius, and he is one of Frederick’s most renowned writers … or poets … or artists. Whichever it is, we recently caught up with him to talk about those distinctions, his relationship with music, how he got into music in the first place, potentially ripping off Wale, his plans for this summer (which include some local shows) and his love for R&B.

You can catch him on July 21 at the Upper Echelon Festival in Frederick. Until then, here’s what he had to say in a wide-ranging conversation we had recently.

I wanted to ask how you got into this. When it comes to art, what happened? Were you 3 years old and thought, “I want to be an artist”?

Not at all. My brother is eight years older than me, so he’s always seemed a lot older to me. He would always show me music, and I remember we were going somewhere, and he showed me Wale’s “More About Nothing,” and there was a song that was more like a poem. So I started writing poems for different girls in my class. I’d do different versions of that.

Wait, you weren’t ripping him off?

[Laughs.] Not all the way, but a little bit. After a while, I started free-styling to songs in my head, but then I stopped. When I got to high school, I realized I could write more than just love poems. I could write about other things, like nightmares or what me and my friends were doing. Then again, when I got to college, I just stopped and chilled out on it. I’d post a poem every now and then, but not anything heavy. After my first year of school — I went there to play basketball — I was worried about other stuff. I got kicked out of class and got kicked off the team.

Were you recruited? Did you have a scholarship?

No, it was just D-3, a small school. I struggle with imposter syndrome, thinking I’m not good enough. There were some schools that had better chances and the coaches made things sound way more promising, but it was just a small school.

But you still got to play.

I got to play one game, got mono, and had to sit out the rest of winter break because they said my spleen might rupture or something like that. Then as soon as I was ready to get back on the court, they said I failed all my classes except for one.

Where was this?

Wilson College up in Chambersburg. They don’t get no love from me because even when I got back up and good with my grades, I wasn’t really rocking with them. It’s a trash school. I had four professors throughout my three years there. That’s terrible. But then after a while, I was just moving around. I wasn’t really doing the best things. But then I saw my friends and they were doing music, rapping, so I was like, “Shoot, let me go ahead and give this a shot.”

Were you always in love with music? Is it something you always connected with?

I like R&B. Real old-school stuff. But as far as rap, I had to learn how to even speak in those hip-hop conversations. Some of my friends were really into it and knew a lot about it. But by the time I was driving, I had like three or four CDs in my car and that was about it, so I wasn’t super big into it. Especially not in a competitive way. That seemed stupid to me because everyone sounded different. When I was kid, I thought Jigga and Jay-Z were two different people [laughs]. Then when I got older, I realized they were different aliases. My brother had a bunch of blank CDs, and he was just playing music, so I never got cover art and got to see who was who. Maybe I’d recognize a voice and maybe I wouldn’t.

Was there a hip-hop artist that you connected with and said, “I want to follow this person’s path”?

Not necessarily. In high school, there was Isaiah Rashad, and his project really resonated with me. That was the first rapper I ever heard that came from a city I had never heard of. He was saying things I could relate to, so when I started to rap, I was like, “Let me not focus on what everyone else is talking about and let me just worry about being smooth and telling my stories.” To this day, I don’t sit there and talk about, “Did you hear this or that?” That’s not my focus.

Speaking of that, you’re integral in the hip-hop community in Frederick, so you know a lot of the artists. How have you seen it grow? Where is it currently in your mind? Is it in a good spot, bad spot?

I think we’ve gotten to a point where it can be taken seriously. I wouldn’t call it a good spot, but before I started rapping, if you wasn’t really ANF, it was kind of a joke. So, I know when I first started, it was a long time before I started to release music. I didn’t want to be stuck with the jokes. So now, when I introduce myself as a rapper, they understand I’m not trash. Before, if you’d say you were a local rapper but your name wasn’t so-and-so, then it was just like, “Oh, you just put music on your Instagram,” or whatever.

So, you take music seriously, then?

I take my name serious.

Go on. What do you mean?

Whatever I put my name on, I’m going to take seriously. If I’m trying to write a book, I’d take it seriously. In the music sense … I don’t do it like a hobby, but I’m also not super dedicated. I don’t write every day. I don’t even write every month.

Let’s talk about that writing process a little bit, then. I know how hard it can be to write when you don’t feel like writing. Have you ever done those things where you forced yourself to write on days and no matter what, you just do it? Or is this something that comes naturally to you all the time?

If I know I have to meet a deadline in my mind — like, I have a friend who has a project he wanted me on and he just told me the day we were going into the studio, and I was like, “OK, I gotta finish it by then? Cool.”

Do deadlines inspire you to get going?

I think it’s just me having military parents. I don’t like to be late. Especially if I tell the engineer I’m going to be there that day, I want to be there that day. Because I’ll sit there and forget that I’m even supposed to be making music because it’s not a thing where I wake up every day and say, “Oh, I’m so excited to make music!” It’s just something I know I’m still getting better at. So I have to remind myself to listen to some beats. Then I’ll write to it and kind of freestyle in my head.

It sounds like you’re more of a writer than a musician.

If I thought I could find someone whose mindset or lifestyle matched mine,

Ue Day

All-day events including a car show and food trucks onsite starting at noon. Doors open at 9 p.m. for the ticketed performance featuring King Chip, Jase Kevion and Demetrius.

When: July 21

Where: 575 N. East St., Frederick Tickets: $40+ via Eventbrite and they could rap and not be lying, I’d absolutely just be behind the scenes. But I also don’t want to try and make a character out of somebody using my own words or stories.

How are you with hooks and choruses?

That’s the easiest part of the song. Sometimes, it’ll be something that at first I think is going to be the verse, but I repeat it in my head and go, “Oh, that’s the hook, OK.” It can be that simple. When I hear the beat, I automatically know where I want it to go.

See, that’s musical. You’re musical! You’re not just a writer. You have music in your veins.

Yeah, it’s not like I dislike music or anything. It’s just not my passion. I played piano when I was little and then I quit. I played trombone and then I quit. I wasn’t super passionate. I was skipping band class to go see what was up with gym class. It wasn’t something I was ever super passionate about. Is there a writer that inspires you the most?

As far as inspiration, that old-school soul. Teddy Pendergrass. Marvin Gaye. I listen to their songs and hear what they’re trying to convey. The O’jays, even. “We Cry Together.” When it’s three deepvoiced masculine men, and you make everyone hear that song and not laugh. In fact, they’re like, “This is beautiful.” And it’s four men singing together, talking about crying about a woman we don’t know, that resonates. That’s because of the way it was written. It wasn’t just like, “Oh, we cry, we cry.” The talking in the background. Everything. It’s the way it’s written. Teddy Pendergrass on “Go Come With Me” — he’s having a conversation with a girl and singing the back and forth. You don’t get that anymore. There aren’t people who paint pictures anymore, except for the higher echelon. But on the radio, the middle ground? You’re not going to get that.

What’s next for you? Any new music?

I definitely have new music coming. I just dropped a single with my guy Loose Change. I’m very excited about that. I got to take on more of a creative director role than an artist with him, and I like that. I plan on doing a few drops this summer, a few in the fall, a few in the winter. We have the Upper Echelon and the Frederick Black Festival, and then in October, the big boy: me, Stitch Early, Asa Weeks. I don’t think you can make up a better rap show than that.

One more question. How do you think the city of Frederick can be better at embracing hip-hop music?

I think venues just need to take a risk. I know hip-hop shows don’t always sell the best, but sometimes you gotta take a risk. Scout. Don’t just randomly pick people. Don’t half-ass it. Don’t think you’re only going to do a one-off. Really try to give people a shot. If you take a chance, it might work.

Colin McGuire’s work has appeared in Alternative Press magazine, PopMatters and 72 Hours, among other outlets. Contact him at mcguire.colin@gmail. com.

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