Dev Hynes

DEV HYNES

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Blood Orange is a national treasure. Born Devonté Hynes, the 32-year-old East Londoner’s music holds a powerful resonance that goes beyond mere singing talent—it’s raw. It hits your core like a sledgehammer and stirs up more feelings than you feel comfortable admitting to. His art amplifies the purity of his music.

The video for “Jewelry,” the single off his newest album Negro Swan, is a perfect example of what makes Hynes unique. In fact, it stops you in your tracks. Beginning with a powerful monologue from activist Janet Mock as she walks down a street in New York, transitioning to Hynes and a crew of shirtless bodies jumping and celebrating in slow motion, and ending with 19-year-old model Kai the Black Angel majestically hanging out of a car window as it drives around the city, it’s a mesmerizing collage of blackness and black joy. Hynes’ versatility is as rare as his vision: he wrote the record, produced the song, directed the video, and conceptualized the idea behind the artwork.

Over almost 15 years, the self-contained multi-instrumentalist has evolved multiple times. He began as a

member of the dance-punk and hardcore London trio, Test Icicles, but they split after one album. In 2007, he re-emerged with the folk-inspired early solo project Lightspeed Champion, dropping two albums but retiring the venture in 2010 to focus on developing his Blood Orange alias. Over the next seven years, Hynes as Blood Orange would grow from inconspicuous musical savant to critically-acclaimed artist. His previous albums—Coastal Grooves (2011), Cupid Deluxe (2013), and Freetown Sound (2016)—have gradually increased his visibility, while his work with other artists has given him the reputation of an artist whisperer. Hynes has worked with the likes of Solange Knowles, Kylie Minogue, Mariah Carey, and A$AP Rocky as producer, songwriter, and/or collaborator. Negro Swan, however, feels like the album that will make Dev himself a household name.

If his acclaimed 2016 album Freetown Sound was a story of survival, Negro Swan identifies the atrocities of the battleground and triumphantly moves past them. The 16-song LP isn’t just a body of music but a diary of Hynes’ life over the past two years—filled with random, mundane experiences, a methodic reckoning of his daily life and emotions. Negro Swan touches on subjects like childhood bullying (“Orlando”), skateboarding (“Dagenham Dream”), breaking up (“Hope”), and artists who use hip-hop as a temporary means to make themselves cool, later distancing themselves from the genre (“Vulture Baby”). How long he’ll continue his Blood Orange project is unknown. However, with Negro Swan he has captured the attention of music lovers everywhere.

Q&A

It's been two years since your last project, Freetown Sound. What have these two years been like for you? I guess just—love. I was traveling around a bunch. I guess my records are like diaries. I never go in and make a record: it's always like the remnants of moving around a lot.

Nothing in particular—it's hard to explain. They're really just diary entries. It's how I always view it. In the way that when you're writing your diary entry, you're not thinking about the one before, and you're not even competing: you're just documenting what is going on. I'm always tweaking and working on music and doing things, and then it gets to the point where I think, "OK, this makes sense."

Was there a song that was particularly hard to write? Hard as in, tough to actually put on paper? Maybe “Jewelry” was, trying to get it right. That took a second, trying to get that mood. And “Take Your Time” took a while to get, because I have these feelings that I know I want to get from my music, so I'm trying to have it give me that emotion. It's a weird thing—it's like I have the emotion already inside me, and I'm trying to put it down, trying to get it back somehow.

You said your records are more like diaries. What were you documenting for this album?

What did you experience over the past few years? I was traveling a lot just for fun, just bringing a setup or real instruments, recording them, and—it's hard to explain—it's almost like music is so number one that it's almost not number one. Like, you need water to live, but I'm not spending every day thinking about water.

So it's what’s always happening. If you saw me five months ago and asked me if I was making an album, I wouldn't know how to answer, because I didn't know if I was making an album. It just developed into one. It's just a couple years of my life, which is probably why

“AND THE TRIUMPHANT PART IS COOL,

BECAUSE A HUGE THEME OF THE

RECORD IS LIKE, FLOSSING AND

GLOWING, JEWELRY AND THINGS LIKE

THAT. SO IF THERE IS AN UNDERLYING

THEME, THAT IS ONE OF THEM.”

I've been able to put albums out every couple of years because nothing's competing. It's just documentation.

Was that what you were trying to do for this album? Because the album feels triumphant. With this record, more than other records, I wanted whatever people felt from it to be correct and real to them. I didn't want it to be a case of everyone having a misunderstanding. I wanted it to be, if you'd taken this from what I've put out, then it's accurate. It's right.

And the triumphant part is cool, because a huge theme of the record is like, flossing and glowing, jewelry and things like that. So if there is an underlying theme, that is one of them.

You previously said the underlying thread of Negro Swan is hope. I can’t speak of it as a whole. I know for me, I was just talking through these things and emotions and situations. But I was definitely trying to make it hopeful.

I never like to dwell in negativity.

Personally, what has it been like to be in America the past few years? I don't know, because I've become a lot more jaded about life in general, and in that sense I've become very shut off. I also actively was not in America a lot: I was in Florence, Copenhagen, and Japan. I'm so tired, so I don't even—maybe that's a little sad—but I don't even let things get to me. It's try and live the best, because it's tiring to always be on the back foot all the time.

“Actively not staying in America”—why is that? Because I was in a position where I was lucky enough that I didn't have to be, so I took it. That's really it.

What do you think of being black in America right now? I think it's just as fucked up as always.

Do you think it's getting better or worse? I don't know. I only know what I live in, and even then I think it’s limited because it's an 11-year period. I’m somewhat of an outsider because I'm from England, and then it's even more niche because I live in New York, so I only know my own experience. I can look at other people’s [experiences] and see that shit is fucked. I think shit is always fucked, and I think everyone's time is always fucked, so it's just a case of doing what you can do to make your life good and the people you love, their lives good.

“ IN THE WAY THAT WHEN YOU'RE WRITING YOUR DIARY ENTRY, YOU'RE NOT THINKING 'BOUT THE ONE BEFORE, AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN COMPETING. YOU'RE JUST DOCUMENTING WHAT'S GOING ON.”

How are black people perceived outside of America? I don't feel comfortable speaking for all black people. I can speak for myself. I just ignore people. I'm at a point where I don't even pay attention to people. I just live my life these days. Florence is one of my favorite places. I recorded a lot of the album there, and I'm sure there are people there that got confused seeing me walk around, but I'm like, "Fuck it, the coffee's good."

Actively seeking happiness. Yeah.

How did Janet Mock get involved? I met her at the Hollywood Bowl last year, and I wanted her involved somehow, I didn't know how. Similar thing happened with the last record with Deana Lawson, who ended up doing the artwork. Initially I thought Deana was just gonna be video. But it was a similar thing with Janet, where I knew I wanted something. She came to my studio, we hung out and started to speak about the record, and I just recorded us talking.

Did that come from being tired of shit, or just maturity, or something else entirely? Probably just age and being tired of shit. Honestly, it’s probably just that.

And it looks like you're happy. I'm chill! I’m more zen than anything. I think when you realize that literally nothing matters, then there’s less to worry about.

Was there a favorite memory from making this album? There was a moment in Tokyo where I was doing the vocals to “Jewelry.” I had friends hanging out, doing their vocals too, like Ian and Eva Tolkin. And that felt cool, just kicking it. Running around with different people who are also working on their own shit, and everyone's just freely playing things and pulling ideas in. That's my idea of life.