August 24, 2023

SOUTH SIDE WEEKLY

The South Side Weekly is an independent non-profit newspaper by and for the South Side of Chicago. We provide high-quality, critical arts and public interest coverage, and equip and develop journalists, artists, photographers, and mediamakers of all backgrounds.

Volume 10, Issue 23

Editor-in-Chief Jacqueline Serrato

Managing Editor Adam Przybyl

Senior Editors Martha Bayne

Christopher Good

Olivia Stovicek

Sam Stecklow

Alma Campos

Jim Daley

Politics Editor J. Patrick Patterson

Labor Editor Jocelyn Martínez-Rosales

Immigration Editor Wendy Wei

Community Builder Chima Ikoro

Public Meetings Editor Scott Pemberton

Contributing Editors Jocelyn Vega

Francisco Ramírez Pinedo

Visuals Editor Kayla Bickham

Deputy Visuals Editor Shane Tolentino

Staff Illustrators Mell Montezuma

Shane Tolentino

Director of Fact Checking: Savannah Hugueley

Fact Checkers: Christopher Good

Ellie Gilbert-Bair

Kate Linderman

Kelli Jean Smith

Lauren Doan

Layout Editor Tony Zralka

Program Manager Malik Jackson

Executive Director Damani Bolden

Office Manager Mary Leonard

Advertising Manager Susan Malone

Webmaster Pat Sier

The Weekly publishes online weekly and in print every other Thursday. We seek contributions from all over the city.

Send submissions, story ideas, comments, or questions to editor@southsideweekly.com or mail to:

South Side Weekly

6100 S. Blackstone Ave. Chicago, IL 60637

For advertising inquiries, please contact: Susan Malone (773) 358-3129 or email: malone@southsideweekly.com

For general inquiries, please call: (773) 643-8533

WELCOME...

to the Music Issue

If we said the history of Chicago music was the history of South Side music, would we be exaggerating? Maybe. But not by too much, right?

Welcome to South Side Weekly’s second-ever music issue: our humble tribute to the vibrancy, creativity, and intensity of musical expression across the South Side. As you read about Party Noire creating a space of healing for LGBTQ+ people, Noname’s intergenerational block party, or Mictlan Productions opening the doors for the BIPOC alternative scene, you’ll notice the threads connecting the artists and creatives we chose to include are deep ties to the South Side and commitments to building community around music.

No newspaper could capture it all. But we’ve done our best, with coverage on psychedelic tropical music, classical, Gregorian chants, boom-bap, and everything in between. We’ve packed this issue with exclusive interviews and profiles on artists from South Shore to Garfield Ridge—plus a photo essay on the South Side artists you need to be listening to, and a playlist to show you where to start.

As the nation celebrates the 50th anniversary of hip-hop, we’ve never been prouder to celebrate the music, and the people, that make the South Side what it is. So tune in, listen up, and read on.

- Jocelyn Martinez-Rosales, Christopher Good

IN THIS ISSUE

noname brings the party home

Noname ties together love of music, activism and the South Side for the Sundial Block Party kelli j. smith ........................................... 4 from church band to strawberry moon: chicago's lester rey’s musical evolution The Pilsen musician unveils his personal and professional journey.

ryan rosenberger 5 blood club’s post-punk sound is more global than ever

A Garfield Ridge trio brings Latino roots to a long white-washed genre.

sofia mcdowell de la mancha ............. 7 ‘para los darks’: the event production curating events for alternative latinos Mictlan Productions cultivate safe spaces for the “filthy” and underground music world.

jocelyn martinez-rosales 8 on a date with the rapper who says not to date rappers

South Side Sounds

We asked DJ Eva Maria to put together a playlist featuring the artists highlighted in this issue, alongside other South Side talent. Take a listen as you flip through the pages by heading to bit.ly/ssw-playlist-2023 or scanning this QR code with your phone.

1. Energy – Asha Omega

2. gospel? (feat. $silkMoney, billy woods & STOUT) - Noname

3. Sunroof Handstand – theMIND, Vooo, femdot.

4. LIST – Ausar, Deante’ Hitchcock

5. Soul Tie – Ajani Jones, Core REX, S-O-S

6. My luv 4 u – Sparklmami, Eddie Burns

7. What’s My Name - Khaliyah X

8. Chaotic – Senite

9. Head High – Brittney Carter, B.Lin, Joel Q

10. Trip Sitters Are The Best Friends – Chris Crack

11. SAGE – Flowurz

12. Missing Buttons – Cloud Boy, Sidaka, J Wade

13. Quite Swell – Qari

14. Uncanny – Daniel Villarreal

15. Danza De Chivo – Cabeza De Chivo

16. Paz – Lester Rey, Mila La Morena, Paco Peor

Ausar talks about the new album, growing up in a Christian household, and his favorite spot on the South Side.

luz magdaleno flores ......................... 11 the south side inspires them

South Side artists take us on a personal tour of their favorite spots.

paul elliott, jocelyn martinez-rosales 14 party noire: a home for queer black joy

In prioritizing accessibility and care, the party’s organizers open up the space for healing.

jasmine barnes ........................................ 16

cabeza de chivo’s emblematic sound pulls from chicago’s diversity

The band bridges cultures through the blend of genres and sounds.

jesus flores

crescendo and allegro by pilsen classical

The chaotic basement concert series shows that classical music can thrive outside of its traditional, stifled context.

18

francisco ramírez pinedo 19 chanting on 31st street Benedictine monks preserve a millennia-old musical tradition in the heart of Bridgeport.

nick merlock jackson 20 calendar

Bulletin and events.

zoe pharo

22 all up in themind

The Philly-native-turned-Chicagoan discusses his ten-minute EP Coffee Grounds and his status as an established artist.

gretchen sterba 24 a walk through j wade’s discography

The independent rapper is defined by his dense lyricism and cinematic sampling.

kristian parker ..................................... 27

Cover photo by Steven Anthony Garcia

17. Apple – KAINA

18. El Pescador – Dos Santos

19. Palomita Blanca – ESCHICANO, Boi Jeanius

20. Sagitario – Mila La Morena, CAIRNS

21. Streetlight – La Rosa Noir

22. Gastado – blood club

Noname Brings the Party Home

Noname ties together love of music, activism and the South Side for the Sundial Block Party.

BY KELLI J. SMITH

Last Thursday, more than two thousand Chicagoans flooded a parking lot on the corner of 43rd Street and Lake Park Avenue for a neighborhood block party celebrating the release of Noname’s long-awaited album, Sundial.

Chicagoan and rapper Fatimah Warner, known to many as Noname, independently organized, threw, and largely funded the Sundial Block Party, which took place blocks away from where she grew up in Kenwood. Warner pulled it off in just thirty days with the help of her mom Desiree Sanders and event organizer Allyson Scrutchens.

“It had been five years since her last project, and she wanted to do something unique around the rollout of it and something involving her fan base and community,” Sanders said.

Since releasing her last album, Room 25, in 2018, Warner left Chicago for Los Angeles and diverted her focus from music to developing her Black-led worker cooperative Noname Book Club. Founded by the rapper in 2019, the cooperative connects community members inside and outside carceral facilities with radical books written by Black, Indigenous and other people of color.

But to the delight of many fans and Chicagoans, her commitment to maintaining and growing Noname Book Club did not prevent Warner from eventually returning to music. After several years of waiting for new music from the rapper, Noname fans were treated to the album drop for Sundial on August 11, prompting a summertime celebration that would tie together her love of music, activism, and the South Side.

The block party brought out Black and Brown people from across Chicago and beyond for music, food, and radical joy. Warner’s idea for the block party came

out of a discussion with her mom about how nice it would be to throw an event for her upcoming album on their old block in Kenwood.

It was implausible to throw the block party at the exact street on which Warner had grown up—it was too residential. However, her mom remembered that several blocks away was the mural on which Warner is featured along with other influential South Side musicians like Chance the Rapper and Muddy Waters. She recalled seeing several blues musicians performing in a large parking lot on the day of the mural unveiling.

“One of the managers who I got to meet [at the mural unveiling] was telling me how he’s very proud of my daughter … and if I ever needed anything, just always reach out,” Sanders explained. “I said, ‘Let me take someone up on that offer and reach out.’ I reached out, and they asked, ‘What does she have in mind? What does she want to do?’”

Once they got approval, Noname, Sanders, and Scrutchens orchestrated

the event through numerous phone calls, utilizing all available resources to bring Noname’s vision to life.

“Her vision was to organically bring back what community represents through the act of a block party,” Sanders said. “People coming out having food, fun, fellowship, something for the children, fun games, face painting. But also live entertainment.”

Despite Noname’s notoriety in both musical and radical spaces, the DIY feel radiated through the celebration as it would with any neighborhood gathering, with attendees welcoming each other with familiarity and warmth. Warner wandered through the crowd to greet people and to enjoy the sets preceding her own.

Sundial Block Party attendees beamed as they entered the event, dropped off their book donations and joined the festivities. Everyone was taken care of: children were captivated by the two bouncy houses and craft area; adults watched artists’ sets and grabbed meals from a variety of local food trucks like Harold’s Chicken and Whadda Jerk; two horses named Calypso and Django drew attention and excitement from the crowd.

Anyone twenty-one and older could even stop by Black-owned cannabis vendors like Vic Mensa’s 93 Boyz or hop on the Sesh Bus to smoke with people on board.

“To see it be an intergenerational event, from the babies to the elders, was what we wanted,” Sanders said. “Because a lot of times, we do not interact. And so there are a lot of misconceptions and miscommunications and misalignment. But when we realize we have more in common than we have differences, and we can unite around our commonality. That is what she wanted to have. That was her vision.”

Warner incorporated her interest in

literacy and radical activism by making the event free to attend with a suggested donation of Toni Morrison’s Sula, George Jackson’s Blood in My Eye, or other books by Black authors to build up the volume of books available for incarcerated Noname Book Club members.

Verlean Singletary, owner of Da Book Joint, a Bronzeville-based book store, was also in attendance, selling books by Black authors that could be donated or taken home. Singletary got involved with the event because she hosts Chicago chapter Noname Book Club meetings at her store.

“This event made me proud to be a Chicagoan and see one of ours come back and sow into her community,” Singletary said. “Noname knows the importance of literacy and ensures that she conveys that message to her community and provides the resources.”

The literary aspect of the block party drew longtime fans of Warner’s activist work, like Madisyn Burke and Nubia Cortez, who are passionate about the power of community outreach.

Noname PHOTO BY JESUS J. MONTERO

Common PHOTO BY JESUS J. MONTERO

“Her being from Chicago and realizing that reading is fundamental and especially [that] incarcerated people need books while in jail is a great idea. I just wanted to be here for it,” Burke said.

From the food to the artists involved, every detail was deliberately thought out, making the event all the more cohesive and harmonious.

“[Warner] is an excellent curator of events, in terms of art and intersectionality of intellectuals, and, you know, free thinkers … She has friends and associates in all those spaces,” Sanders said.

Warner reached out to numerous organizations like Sistas in the Village, Mental Health Meets Hip-Hop, and the Final 5 Campaign to set up booths to hand out literature, raise awareness for their work, and share in the community of the day.

Agrnan Hernandez of the Final 5 Campaign, an organization dedicated to the closure of the final five youth prisons in Illinois, wanted to use the block party as a chance to build connections with other people and organizations. As a recently incarcerated youth, Hernandez sees himself as a voice for the organization. He feels that the community can help reach the goal of making Chicago a better place, rid of the juvenile correctional system.

Rapper and activist J. Bambii hosted performances, transitioning between the sets from Navy Blue, Alex Vaughn, DJ GreenSllime, IJEOMA, and Noname herself, who brought out Common for a surprise performance. The Grammyaward-winning rapper first joined Noname on stage for his feature on their new song, “oblivion,” but later returned at the end of the show for his own set to a vibrant crowd.

An artist and curator who performs as a DJ under the name IJEOMA, Alexandria

Eregbu was the first to spin that afternoon. She said Warner reached out to her to perform at the Sundial Block Party because of Eregbu’s work at the intersections of art, music and justice.

“I’m really just celebrating my brand, but also this proudness of being Black and celebrating the community and the culture.”

While the day started rainy and cold, she echoed others’ sentiments of the positivity of the celebration and its communal spirit.

“The sun came out, I believe, just for us,” Eregbu said. “The energy has been very fresh, innocent, and youthful. Very unapologetically confident. This sense of gratitude is circulating.”

As the evening began to wrap up, the bins of books at the entrance spilled over with both requested works and other books by Black authors. The wind died down and much of the crowd congregated toward the stage to dance to Noname and Common. Joy radiated from everyone in the crowd.

“It meant everything,” Sanders said. “It meant that we are a village and we are all connected. We’re like the five digits on a hand; they work better together, not separately.”

Toward the end of her set, Warner spoke to the crowd and reflected on the day and her hopes for the event.

“I tried to have this event be representative of all the things I love, so I hope that’s been represented,” she said.

Warner’s clear vision of what she wanted was apparent in every detail, and as her mom affectionately explained, “the universe conspired to make it happen.” ¬

Kelli J. Smith is a writer, editor, and factchecker. This is her first piece for The Weekly

From Church Band to Strawberry Moon: Chicago’s Lester Rey’s Musical Evolution

The Pilsen musician unveils his personal and professional journey.

BY RYAN ROSENBERGER

Chicago Latin soul musician Lester Rey still remembers the emotions he felt just seconds before taking the stage at Citlalin Gallery and Theater in Pilsen on a freezing night in January 2016.

“Definitely butterflies,” Rey cheekily recalled seven years later. “I was scared. I didn’t know how the night was going to turn out.”

That concert, which commemorated the release of his debut EP Blue Lion, was the first time he had presented his music to the world in such an open fashion. Even with a background in event curation, Rey couldn’t help but feel nervous.

“I hadn’t really curated a lot of events around my music at this point in my life,” Rey said. “I did curate shows in college— cultural shows, talent shows—even church, I was curating church services and sermons.”

But despite his reservations, Rey, donning a suit, wide-brim hat, and with a vintage microphone he bought specifically for that show, performed in front of a packed venue. Rey said his nerves dissipated once he took the stage.

“I wasn’t a stranger to performing, so once I got to the mic, I was like, ‘I know what I need to do,’” Rey said. “I was just

so excited that it was music that I had written, that had come from the depths of my creativity and my mind.”

Rey was born in Humboldt Park and spent the first chunk of his childhood on the North Side. He spent his high school years bouncing between the suburbs and the city. However, it is Pilsen that Rey has come to identify as his home, both physically and creatively. Rey currently lives there, just houses down from his parents.

“It’s rooted in family,” Rey said. “A lot of our friends—muralists, graphic designers, DJs—they all live around here as well, whether in Pilsen, McKinley [Park], or Little Village.”

Rey’s musical journey began not in a packed venue in Pilsen, but in a Pentecostal church on North Ashland Avenue where he started playing a “childsized” set of congas in the church band at the age of five. Though he wasn’t mic’d up for the churchgoers to hear, his bandmates gave him tips on how to improve. Later, when he was sixteen years old, Rey even learned production skills from another church member. Rey said playing in the church shaped his instincts as a musician.

“It was predominantly Puerto Rican;

Aerial shot of the block party

PHOTO BY JESUS J. MONTERO

very Caribbean energy,” Rey said. “Salsa, merengue, heavy repetition [and] calland-response. People were also part of the experience, so the energy was always at ten.”

Church was not only an integral part of Rey’s musical development, but of his spiritual upbringing as well. Before he wanted to be a musician, he wanted to be a pastor. When his pastor was away on missionary work, Rey was called upon to handle sermons at his church.

“I studied a lot of religion, a lot of theology,” he said. “I was undecided for my first couple years in community college, but I was always drawn toward philosophy and religious courses.”

But after a series of experiences Rey had as a young adult, he started to reject the religious teachings he was raised upon.

He said that at nineteen, he was forced to marry a woman he thought had gotten pregnant, threatened with being stripped of his positions as Sunday school teacher and worship leader if he didn’t. Three years later, he divorced her after finding out the baby was not his. That same year, he also tried marijuana and alcohol for the first time.

“I’m just trying new things at this age,” Rey said. “One of those things is choosing a new major, community leadership and civic engagement, focusing on social justice… I just started to see less and less of a reason to believe in the Christian version of God.”

At twenty-two, Rey enrolled at Northern Illinois University (NIU). On top of his coursework, he became heavily involved in NIU’s jazz studies program, where he sang with their jazz ensemble and played in their Afro-Cuban ensemble. Rey said his experiences playing in NIU’s jazz program were vital to his growth and development beyond the church music of his youth.

“I took a deeper dive into the catalogs of salsa musicians in more of a Latin jazz sense,” Rey said. “I was learning all these names [and] catalogs, and getting a richer, deeper knowledge and appreciation for the music that I had heard as a kid, but didn’t have the vocabulary to speak intelligently on.”

Rey graduated from NIU in 2014

and eventually moved back to Chicago, where he started performing with local salsa bands. Two years later, he released his debut EP Blue Lion, whose title pays tribute both to Chicago’s blues scene and the town in Puerto Rico where his parents grew up. Rey said that embracing a center-stage role was a crucial part of his experience creating that project.

“[Performing] with salsa bands, I would be the one singing lead, but I was singing cover songs that had been written thirty [or] forty years ago,” he said. “This was the first time that it was like, ‘Okay, I created a whole body of work and I’m sharing this.’”

Since Blue Lion, Rey has spent the last seven years releasing eight more EPs and making a name for himself not just within Chicago’s Latin music scene, but in the city’s music scene as a whole.

Of every project in Rey’s catalog,

perhaps the most immediate and impactful is his most recent release, 2023’s Strawberry Moon

Released on June 2 to coincide with the actual Strawberry Moon (the first full moon of summer) on June 3, Rey’s latest effort is an irresistible six-song, nineteenminute joyride, packed with infectious dance rhythms and charismatic vocal performances.

Rey regards Strawberry Moon as a compilation of songs that document a chapter in his life, rather than a specific conceptual piece. Despite this, he insists the lyrics and sounds on the record are in close accordance with the EP’s title.

“[I read] that Indigenous communities found the strawberry to be a very meaningful fruit, in the sense that the seeds were exposed on the outside of the fruit, which to them [was] a sign of vulnerability,” he said. “I remember being inspired by that and thinking, ‘Well, there’s vulnerability in this music, there’s

vulnerability in putting this new sound out, which is a very big departure from my Blue Lion sound.’”

Strawberry Moon opens up with “Azota,” a highlight. With thick, grumbling basslines and driving, offkilter production, it sets a brisk pace for the rest of the EP.

The following track, “Chi Tea,” which contains a feature from Chicago hip-hop artist Heavy Crownz, is a feel-good party jam that emphasizes Rey’s light, melodic vocal work.

“Everything gonna be aight, we gonna be just fine,” Rey proclaims on the song, as his vocals stretch over punchy synths and emphatic bass hits.

Perhaps the biggest highlight on the project, however, is the closing cut, “Jardin.” The gentle guitar strumming and patient drumwork create a gorgeous soundscape for Rey’s vocals to flow freely.

Lyrics in “Jardin” cover concepts such as self-love.

“[It’s] very much reminding myself I don’t need to wait for my flowers,” Rey said. “I have so many flowers in my own garden that I can give you flowers… It’s this idea of being more patient.”

Rey said the reception to Strawberry Moon has been more “global” than other projects he has released. “Azota” was featured on the NBC show World Of Dance, and all six tracks have been featured on playlists outside of Chicago. The project has also received coverage from outlets such as Vocalo radio.

All the while, Rey is giving himself his flowers while looking towards the future. He plans to release his debut album in 2024—but right now he’s taking some time to enjoy it for himself.

“The album’s not mixed and mastered… it’s not ready for release,” Rey said. “But I’m sitting with it, I’m enjoying it, I’m blasting it in my car. I created an album for myself at this moment… In 2024, it’ll be for everyone else.” ¬

Ryan Rosenberger is a Chicago-based music journalist who has been covering the scene since 2018. His work can be found in The Columbia Chronicle, These Days Mag, The Weekly, and more.

“I was just so excited that it was music that I had written, that had come from the depths of my creativity and my mind,”

Lester Rey

PHOTO BY TREY LEGIT, EDIT BY ENEZ

Lester Rey PHOTO BY DIANA PIETRZYK

blood club’s Post-Punk Sound Is More Global Than Ever

A Garfield Ridge trio brings Latino roots to a long white-washed genre

BY SOFIA MCDOWELL DE LA MANCHA

Under the loud roaring planes of Chicago’s Midway Airport, a Garfield Ridge trio came together to form blood club in late 2022. Today, the post-punk experimental band, just months shy of their one-year anniversary, is getting ready to celebrate by taking on a ten-day, ten-city debut headlining tour of the United States.

Jesse Flores, frontman and vocalist of blood club, found himself at a creative crossroads after a hiatus from his previous band, French Police. “I just played a show with them [French Police] and I was like—I miss this! But there wasn’t really any room for me to come back… [so] I was like, fuck it, I’m gonna start my own band.”

Soon after, bassist Daniel Vela and guitarist Jorge Calderon joined Jesse on this new musical venture. With similar musical upbringings, the three knew it was the right time to work together.

Daniel’s love for music came from his father, who was a seasoned musician. Jorge owes his love for the guitar to his cousin, who taught him his first guitar line. And for Jesse, having an older brother that was into music did the trick. The three all began experimenting and playing instruments around the age of thirteen.

“We don’t know music theory or anything like that,” said Jorge, “We’re kind of just self-taught musicians—whatever sounds good.”

When it comes to the creative process, Jesse takes the lead and creates all the music, starting from the beat up. Using his creativity, voice, and words, he draws on solitude to make music. “I like to be alone when I do it. It’s when I feel the most creative,” said Jesse. “I have to make time for it. Like, sometimes it doesn’t just come to you… I have a full-time job. So I really have to carve out time to make it.”

When you listen to blood club, you

can’t help but hear their influences. From the ethereal sounds of Interpol and the haunting darkness of Joy Division to the enigmatic Belarusian band, Molchat Doma, blood club’s music is in step with the dark and atmospheric post-punk sound that is taking over the scene for the third time. With this new wave of post-punkers comes a sea of concertgoers dressed all in black. As Jesse described it: “I go to like shows, and it’s just a pool of black… like everything black.”

blood club hit the ground running at the beginning of the year, playing a few shows in local venues like The Empty Bottle, Chop Shop and Live Wire. Reminiscing on blood club’s first show under their current name at Live Wire, Jesse said “we played our first show, our first sold-out show ever. So like, you know, it's like a sentimental thing.”

From its roots in the UK scene of the late 1970s, many early post-punk bands were fronted by white musicians, creating the perception that post-punk was a genre for white people.

“I felt weird being like the only Mexican [in a white dominated genre]. I never felt comfortable. [It was] like I would

have to learn how to operate in white spaces,” recounts Daniel. “... As a Latino, it’s the best time in history to make art right now. I believe that there’s a door opening.”

Jesse, a proud Mexican American, harnesses the power of his bilingualism in his lyrics. When he runs out of words in English, he simply turns a switch and writes in Spanish. “[It] just sounds pretty,” Jesse said. “gastado”, “surreal,” and “gafas negras” are among their Spanish songs. Those songs and more can be found on the band’s Bandcamp, among a cool selection of merch and a limited edition cassette of their most recent EP, Current Lust. The band decided to produce cassettes to give their fans a unique way to listen to their music and add a touch of nostalgia to their listening experience.

As the band navigates the ups and downs of Chicago’s music scene, the trio has felt an increase in support from the city’s Latino community. blood club’s rapid rise comes in part from their management team, Cruel Management. The label saw potential beyond what Jesse had envisioned for his new band.

“He booked me a show before I even made a song,” Jesse shared about his

partnership with Cruel Management, “he really put the fire under my ass.”

“The market is oversaturated with so many bands. So now things [are] to the point where you have to schedule these tours a year into them,” shared Vinny from Cruel Management.

blood club takes collaboration seriously, and believes it should be done with intention, not just to gain new followers. “A lot of other bands do that. Maybe for clicks, for their fans. Like, well, let’s take our fans and your fans, and let’s put them together so we can do it,” said Daniel. They would like to collaborate with Wisteria, an artist from Los Angeles, and would be thrilled to collaborate with Bad Bunny, one of the biggest names in Latin music. “There's actually a bunch of Bad Bunny covers that bands made post-punk,” shared Jesse. blood club has over 29,000 listeners per month on Spotify, comprising a fan base from around the world. From the UK to Germany, Brazil to Mexico, their sound is transcending borders. With their upcoming tour, the band is excited to meet some of their fans in-person. “I’m excited to see the crowd’s reactions the first time they see us,” said Jesse. After mostly interacting with fans on the internet, “getting out there and putting our faces over there—that's exciting.” shared Daniel.

blood club is planning to release its first full album and take on a West Coast tour in the near future. “A lot of people want us to come to the West Coast. We get messages every day, like ‘come to LA, come to San Diego!’”

For a list of upcoming shows and tour dates, visit their Instagram page @bl00dclub. ¬

Sofia McDowell De La Mancha is a freelance writer, blogger and marketing professional.

PHOTO BY DAVID DE LA MANCHA

‘Para Los Darks’: The Event Production Curating Events for Alternative Latinos

Mictlan Productions cultivate safe spaces for the “filthy” and underground music world.

BY JOCELYN MARTINEZ-ROSALES

The Alt scene, she says, often excludes people of color. She took inspiration from party nights at the now closed punk club, Exit. “I remember the bartender would always call it Mexican goth night, because she’s like, ‘all of you guys pull up,’” she said.

Since then, Flores has cemented a staple event at Subterranean in Wicker Park named Cumbia y Los Goths. Mixing cumbia and new wave sounds, a blend that to her just made sense, was the first event she put together.

Cumbia y Los Goths not only has residency at SubT, but has recently made its way to Pilsen. Kombi Chicago, a Latinx event production collective, and Mictlan Productions hosted the event Kumbiaholics y Los Goths at Simone’s,

a Pilsen bar, on August 19. Mictlan also hosts events titled INFERNO, RATCHET AF, Necropolis, and FILTH.

“In the Midwest, especially, there’s just so much whiteness everywhere trying to tell us that what we like isn’t what we should like,” she said.

Flores aims to create spaces for communities like hers to let loose and be true to themselves. She remembers struggling with her confidence and, after leaving an abusive relationship, all she wanted to do was create a safe space for her and for anyone that needed one, too.

Her events feature vendors and DJs that come from all parts of the country. “I have been creating a relationship with people in LA and that all started when I did a live stream on Instagram.”

In an inconspicuous corner in Pilsen, tucked away behind a wooden fence, a sweaty and obscene rave welcomed the most filthy. Past the smokers wearing all black puffing away at their Marlboro reds, individuals with harnesses, chokers, and a lot of pleather vibrated to the sounds of industrial techno in a packed Chicago basement. The subgenre of techno meshes clashes and harsh repetitive rhythms together.

Mictlan Production hosted their most recent FILTH event at contemporary art studio, Hidden Ideas, located in Pilsen. It took Amanda Flores, creative, artist, DJ, event planner, and sole person behind Mictlan Productions, a week to

install chains, fences and art installations using windows and mannequin body parts. In Aztec mythology, Mictlan is the underworld for the dead with nine levels; the dead are guided by Aztec god Xolotl through the levels. Much like the dead finding their way through the underworld, the attendees of Flores’s events are also trying to find their way.

“I guess [I’m] just trying to find that presence for us in different venues that we wouldn’t usually be considered for that genre or the occult,” said Flores.

Under Mictlan Productions, Flores, also known by her DJ name, Flores Negras, began to curate events for the alternative Latinx community in 2017.

Amanda Flores also known as Flores Negras begins her set at Mictlan Production's event FILTH.

PHOTO BY STEVEN ANTHONY GARCIA

Rave-goers sport face paint, studs, and chokers expressing their individualities.

PHOTO BY STEVEN ANTHONY GARCIA

For FILTH, she was able to bring Jacob Gonzales aka NMX, who runs club Fallout in Los Angeles. Club Fallout hosts BDSM (bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism) shows that Flores said don’t feel creepy and “people weren’t being creeps.” She wanted to harness that expereince and execute it back at home.

“I wanted that feeling of being able to be your obscene self and being able to do that without the fear of anyone fucking with you,” said Flores.

For Flores, the making of the events and her continued success has been a journey of self-discovery and healing. She is close to six years sober and wants people to know that the rave scene isn’t centered around drug use.

“It’s also important for me being sober to be deep in that world to show people that it isn’t just for getting involved in drugs,” she said.

Her wellness and spirituality have extended outside of her nightlife events and into a wellness studio, Heal & Flo, that she’s slowly putting together.

She hosted her first market at the studio located in Lake View in July dedicated to showcasing healers in the community. Flores also goes to school for massage therapy and acupuncture.

As Mictlan Productions continues to grow, Flores says her mission will always be to foster and take up space.

“It’s important to feel like you belong somewhere or feel something that feels like home, that safety of ‘you’re okay to just be yourself.’” ¬

Jocelyn Martinez-Rosales is a MexicanAmerican from Belmont Cragin, Chicago. As an independent journalist she’s passionate about covering communities of color with a social justice lens. She’s also the labor editor at the Weekly

Chicago DJ, Glamour Cadaver, performs at FILTH.

PHOTO BY STEVEN ANTHONY GARCIA

"I wanted that feeling of being able to be your obscene self and being able to do that without

the fear of anyone fucking with you."

Flores Negras in the middle of her set and event goers jam out to dark wave sounds.

PHOTO BY STEVEN ANTHONY GARCIA

FILTH attendees paint their face against an ultraviolet light.

PHOTO BY STEVEN ANTHONY GARCIA

On a Date with the Rapper Who Says Not to Date Rappers

Ausar talks about the new album, growing up in a Christian household, and his favorite spot on the South Side.

BY LUZ MAGDALENO FLORES

South Side rapper Ausar’s excellent debut album, I NOW KNOW., has been years in the making, and covers a range of musical and emotional terrain. But at one point, the tracklisting offers simple (albeit tongue-in-cheek) advice: “DON’T DATE RAPPERS.”

So after catching the album’s launch party at The Promontory in Hyde Park, curator, artist, and Weekly contributor Luz Magdaleno Flores had to invite the rapper on a “date.”

The two met at Ausar’s favorite date location—Lurie Garden in Millennium Park—to discuss vulnerability and honesty in all things love and music.

The interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Luz Magdaleno Flores: How does it feel to put out your first album? What feedback have you gotten so far?

Ausar: What I feel most is relief. Like, we’ve been working on putting it out for about six years now, so to finally be on the other side feels incredible. And the response that we’ve been getting has been even more incredible—to have this much attention on something that I created with my friends with no label. It’s very affirming, in a lot of ways, that we are on the path that God has for us.

What’s your favorite song on the album?

It changes every day. Today, I’m feeling

“Ghosted.” The beat on that [song] is incredible—and that was a really special song, because that’s the only song on the project that I didn’t write. I freestyled that song. And that was a different process for me, I don’t usually do that. It was one of my more vulnerable songs. In a lot of my music, prior to this album, I didn’t really express much of what goes on personally with me, in my love life or in my relationships in general. And now we kind of got me out of the box. So I really enjoyed it.

Let’s talk about that step towards vulnerability. I think that a lot of us can relate to the album, because you’re very honest. And you’ve opened up that door to confessional sad boy, honest boy vibes that remind me of Brent Faiyaz or Drake. It’s almost like poetry—or like confessions, you know?

For sure, I would agree. I think that was a hard step for me, and I think that’s what took me so long to make an album. Because when you’re not speaking from a place of honesty, or complete transparency, it’s hard to make music that people can relate to, because you’re not being your authentic self.

For a long time I was holding myself back, I was just like, I don’t want to talk about this. Because if this person hears it, how are they gonna feel? Or how are people going to view me after they hear these versions of me that I don’t usually expose. And I finally made the conscious decision to go with my truth. I have to live

in that. It’s not like I don’t live and grow and change as time goes on. But this is where I was in this part of my life.

So talk to me about your writing process. How did these songs come to you? You’ve mentioned that you scratched a full project or album before this.

[It’s a project] that we had been working on for like, five years! And it’s due to what I was just telling you. It just didn’t tell my story anymore. I was craving some change. I was craving new things. And I

went out to do a session in LA at the end of 2021. It was November and I recorded a song called “LIST” that’s on the album. And that was the first time we officially made a song for the album. And that was different. The beginning. The first four bars of that I freestyled… and after doing that, I kept writing. It was so different from everything I had made at that time. I hit Ro [Moore] up—my producer, engineer, executive producer of the album— and I was just like, I want to do more of this, like different things. And they all supported me. So my writing process from that point forward was literally just coming into the studio and trying new things. I had an idea of what I knew I wanted the project to be about. I wanted to tell a story. But I was like, okay, let me just chip away at bits and pieces of what I want the story to be.

I want to talk a little bit about your background in gospel. You grew up in a very Christian household, right?

Yeah. I think my art reflects who I am, right? The gospel, my own personal faith, and how I choose to go about my walk with God. That shines through in everything I do. Since I was born and raised in a church, and that was my first introduction to music, everything can be very grandiose at times—like you’re gonna hear organs, you’re gonna hear pianos, you’re gonna hear chords in chord structures that are not really pop, you know? I think that we’ve done an

PHOTO BY LUZ MAGDALENO FLORES

amazing job of making that digestible for everyone. But it’s very much pulled from gospel.

Where in the South Side do you rep?

The Auburn Gresham neighborhood. Over on 95th and Eggleston, right next to Trinity Church. And South Shore. I was there from the time I was like, ten to eighteen. Right across the street from South Shore High School.

Are there choir groups from the South Side that you would like to shout out?

Absolutely. [Selah] St. Sabina Youth Choir, and Sam Williams. They were a part of a joint on the album called “poster CHILD” and that was a super cool experience, having a lot of kids pull up and be excited. I was super excited too. That moment in the studio, I’d never seen a choir be recorded before. That was an experience in itself.

So, talk to me about those sounds you grew up with.

My first introduction to rap music came when my mother got married. One of my oldest brother’s name is Nick. Nick is the one who got me rapping. And I remember the earliest introductions I had were like, Kanye West, Lupe Fiasco, and Common—who was my favorite rapper, because everything he was describing, the stuff that was around, I was just like, “I know exactly what you’re talking about!” And that was my launching pad. Another musical influence was my older cousin, Nene, who is a poet, and she was in love with Lauryn Hill. So I would listen to Ms. Lauryn Hill and India.Arie all the time because of her. But my dad gave me the first .mp3s that I ever had, and he uploaded music that he was listening to. It was, like, De La Soul and D’Angelo. Those foundational pieces all came from my family.

Talk to me about “DON'T DATE

RAPPERS.” and how that idea came to life. What’s the backstory?

So the first half of “DON’T DATE RAPPERS.” came from like, a couple of instances where some of the women who were interested in me, I genuinely felt like only were interested in me because of what I do. This wasn’t off a hunch, this is off of, “I’m watching who else you keep yourself in relation to, and who else that you’ve dated in the past, and who you’re even currently talking to while we’re talking,” and it just felt very superficial. And I felt like I had to get it off my chest. So the first half of “DON'T DATE RAPPERS.” is me just kind of voicing that. The second half of “DON'T DATE RAPPERS.”—and I’m so happy to talk about it now that it’s out—is more of an introspective look. Me looking back at a lot of my dating history, and realizing that I was the problem in most of those situations, whether it was direct or indirect. I am talking about a lot of the issues that I have, when dating. And a lot of the homies have also shared that same sentiment, whether it be making time for someone or having somebody

who understands the passion and the drive you have behind what it is you do, and understanding some of the decisions you’re gonna make as it pertains to that. A lot of times, creative art comes first, and everything else is secondary. And that comes with a whole lot of problems in itself.

I asked some of the girls at your record release and your homies wearing your hat that says “Don't Date Rappers: an emotional warning” what their thoughts were on the message and a lot of them said, “Oh, it’s a good time. It’s not a long time.” Some of the girls were like, “I’m wearing the hat because I love AJ, he’s such a sweetheart and I’m supporting him.” But you’re wearing a hat that’s literally saying “Hey, don’t date these troubled men,” and they just laughed it off. I was having drinks with some of my friends yesterday and I asked them too,”Hey, would you date a rapper?” And they were like, “Honestly, yeah,” because they wanted to have your attention. You know what I mean? I kinda want to hear your two cents on that.

I think everybody—because of how I was raised and my own personal belief system—everybody deserves somebody. So it’s unfortunate that a lot of people do come into dating rapper dynamics, [with the] understanding that you’re probably not the only one. Because in a lot of instances, you’re not. I think when I was younger, I had a very hard time coming to terms with commitment, just being very real. I had so much going on. I think now as I get older—and I was just talking to a homie about this yesterday—I’m valuing genuine connection. I’m valuing being able to give somebody my all and really invest in them. And so for me, I am for sure, looking for one person. And I think some of my homies also feel the same way. A lot of my music friend group is made up of men in relationships, and some of them are married and have kids and have already started that journey for

the rest of their life. And I think that’s so cool. And in a lot of ways, I look at that as an example for me. I think it comes with a lot of discipline, because when you’re in as many people’s faces as you are as an entertainer, people are going to be interested, people are going to press those boundaries. But as long as you have that self-discipline, I think it’s very possible.

Who’s the girl on the record that leaves you a voicemail saying to answer your phone?

That’s actually a homie of mine. That is the only voicemail on the album that is not a real voicemail. I was okay with leaving a lot of voicemails on there without people’s consent for them to hear it because I thought it was gonna be like a nice surprise.

You didn’t want to get sued?

I didn’t want to get sued. You also just have to be cognizant, like there does come a responsibility with how you put your art out, right? And my intent is never to hurt anybody. So I can get mine out without being malicious in my approach.

Is there a difference between AJ and Ausar? And what are those differences?

I try to make sure that there is not. But inevitably there is. I try to show up as my authentic self in any room that I’m in. I do think there is a difference, though, in terms of how people view me as an artist and how people who personally know me view me. I think there’s a mystique and a shroud around, like me as the artist. Once you meet me and get to know me, you realize I’m the same person everywhere.

I see it in your eyes, like you still have hope for true love.

Oh, absolutely, man.

Is there a spot in the South Side that holds a special place in your heart?

PHOTO BY LUZ MAGDALENO FLORES

South Shore High School is one spot because of their basketball court that they have outside. I was there every single day when I could go during the summer. That was my safe haven. Like, I was at that court every day. I mean, Michigan Ave as well. I know it’s not the South Side but this is, once again, a very pivotal area to my upbringing, because you know, when you were shorties, you will wait the whole week to get to the weekend and come downtown and just walk the strip by way of the Jeffrey Jump, the J14, which was my limousine to downtown.

You sound like you played a lot of basketball.

A whole lot of basketball. I love basketball—like up to the current day,

when I can’t write and I’m not having the greatest day, I go shoot around. That’s my thing.

So you play games. You’re a rapper. You’re a Gemini. And a church boy. You must be trouble.

I don’t think so. I’m not that bad. Visit www.ausarmusic.com for more on Ausar. ¬

Luz Magdaleno Flores She/Her is a Mexican Chicana artist, poet, journalist, and fotógrafa based in Chicago by way of Oxnard, California, also known as DJ Light of Your Vida. @lightofyourvida

"Ausuar at the launch party for I NOW KNOW. at The Promontory"

PHOTO BY LUZ MAGDALENO FLORES

The South Side Inspires Them

South Side artists take us on a personal tour of their favorite spots.

BY PAUL ELLIOTT, JOCELYN MARTINEZ-ROSALES

Asha Omega

Standing at the intersection of Jeffery Blvd and 71st Street in South Shore, Asha Omega stepped aside for a dog holding a slice of a pepperoni pizza in its mouth.

“I’ve just crossed this intersection so much in my little life. I just think that is so beautiful,” Asha said.

She exchanged a dialogue with the dog’s owner and went back to posing for a portrait photo. Asha Omega is a burgeoning artist from the South Side. Represented by Forever Noir, a media house that advocates for healing through the arts, Asha released her latest EP, ALKHEMY, in February.

“I started making music for myself first,” Asha said. “All my music was affirmations for me and I was hoping that

it touched somebody and made them feel good or feel seen.”

She describes her music, which blends neo-soul sounds with contemporary hiphop beats, as “neo hip-hop.” Asha embeds positive lyrics and weaves pieces of her community into each song.

“I think that I’m always keeping my head on a swivel, just to be aware of what’s going on around me,” she said. “I think that type of consciousness influences the way I think and why I write the way I write, because you have to be aware of all things.”

Her love for South Shore runs deep. A favorite feature is being able to walk to the lake at any moment. At night, blocks away from her home, she said, her neighbors bring foldout chairs, grill, and share in community.

Laughing, she proclaims, “South Shore, the best shore!” ¬

Khaliyah X

For Khaliyah X—or as she often likes to call herself, Chicago Princess— Morgan Park has a special place in her heart. It’s the community that watched her grow and fostered her love for music.

“Subconsciously, [Morgan Park] definitely tailored the way that I listened to music and my interest in music. Just being surrounded by so much art and just so much culture very, very young,” Khaliyah said, remembering the countless poetry slams and jazz events she went to with her mom.

Khaliyah dropped a single in May titled “What’s My Name,” and today her Spotify has close to 5,000 monthly listeners. She posed in front of her childhood home, her favorite spot, because to her it signifies “real security and stability.” The twenty-

five-year-old is her grandmother’s oldest granddaughter. As her family gears up for a big move, she can’t help but reminisce on how much impact the neighborhood has had on her.

“My fondest memories [are] around food and community, and I think that’s what the South Side means to me,” Khaliyah said. “It gave me the ability to know different walks of life.”

Khaliyah said Morgan Park is often overlooked, but it’s been one of the driving forces in her career. Her love for food and community always interlock, and so it’s only fitting that this Chicago Princess will be performing at Taste of Chicago on September 8.

She also teased the idea of releasing a part two to her 2022 Just For the Summer EP. In the meantime, Khaliyah urged people to try her top two favorite go-to spots: Nicky’s of Beverly and Janson’s Drive-In. ¬

Ajani Jones

Ajani Jones began releasing music in 2017, but in the past two years he’s taken it to the next level, making it his full-time gig and garnering more than 21,000 monthly listeners on Spotify. Ajani said he feels rooted, and to him there’s no place like Auburn Gresham.

“This is a phoenix type of situation where it’s like, we’ve risen from the ashes,” he said.

Ajani remembers moving a lot growing up and struggling financially, but the Auburn Gresham neighborhood was witness to a lot of firsts for the twentynine-year-old.

“My first bad grade, my first you know, experience with taking the bus…Coming of age as a child, a lot of those memories were from this area,” Ajani said.

That’s why his family home means so much to him. He recently opened his

Eschicano

While there are many taco joints across the city, Eschicano prefers his tacos Tijuana style. Tacos El Rey on Ewing Avenue rolled out the red carpet for the twenty-seven-yearold musician when he recently sat down with the Weekly

The South Side “was really like a way to reconnect with my roots,“ said Eschicano.

His order consists of a spicy michelada and adobada tacos—or as he calls them, “estilo perrones” (dog style). During our interview, Eschicano was gearing up for a performance at Pilsen Fest. Pilsen for Eschicano was the first community to embrace his music.

“I did my first release party on 18th Street at the APO [cultural center] building, the historical building,” he said.

“There was a line down all the way to Blue Island. People coming to my release party, an unknown Eschicano doing his first release party ever.”

Since then, Eschicano has performed at Ruido Fest and collaborated with a variety of South Side talent, tapping into genres like corridos, cumbia, and Spanish rock. Through his music, he has been able to strengthen the link to his origins.

“I had the Ventra card that was like unlimited swipes. And I was just taking the Orange Line and the Pink Line to the South Side,” Eschicano said. “It was like a veil was lifted from me.”

While he grew up in Logan Square, Eschicano really began to find his identity by exploring communities like Back of the Yards and Little Village fueling his musical pursuits.

“I was reconnecting with a part of my culture that I didn’t even know existed.” ¬

picture-perfect backyard to the Weekly.

“Everything that’s led up to this point has been us conquering one struggle after the other one,” Ajani said. “Perseverance has been a really big thing in my life, in my music.“

He released a single titled “Shapeshifter” in May, and he already has other projects lined up to be released. The first is an album (with details that are yet to come), and the second is a music group the young artist has put together alongside Chicago talents S-O-S and Core REX. Ajani also shared plans for a future EP in collaboration with his friend Wic Whitney.

Ajani said he believes that right now, Chicago’s music scene is coming together once again with a younger generation that’s bringing love and support.

“I feel like Chicago has been fragmented for years. It hasn’t felt like a community,” he said. “And so now it’s feeling like that—this summer more than anything.” ¬

Paul Araki Elliott is a photographer and filmmaker based in Chicago. He specializes in conceptual and environmental portraiture, often focusing on artists and entertainers. He has worked with artists such as Tinashe, Towkio, and Vic Mensa, and his work has appeared in such publications as Vibe, the Chicago Reader, TimeOut, and Complex. Elliott is also the co-founder of the multimedia production company thankyou.inc.

Party Noire: A Home for Queer Black Joy

In prioritizing accessibility and care, the party’s organizers open up the space for healing.

BY JASMINE BARNES

On a warm Saturday evening in July, a crowd of people under the glow of the moon and Chicago’s city lights move their bodies to music radiating from a small stage on Oakwood Beach at the Silver Room Sound System Block Party. Rae Chardonnay looks out into the cluster of faces, embodying the role of emcee with bottomless energy, encouraging those present to let their bodies move in dialogue with the sounds of DJ k.tea and DJ Diaspora. Singing, stepping and shaking commences with the familiar gestures of vogueing and twerking melding into physical expressions that defy definition. Vibrations from early 80s house music blend into 2000s hip-hop, then transform again into contemporary afrobeats.

This is Party Noire.

Alchemizing the sound of Black Chicago

Rae Chardonnay and dr. nick alder started Party Noire in 2015 with the hopes of creating a space for Black folks, and more specifically queer Black folks, to experience an embodied sense of belonging and healing. With years of experience working as a therapist, alder knows the importance of embodied communal expression.

“Community is the site of where we experience healing and transformation. There are direct connections to our mental health and wellbeing when we are able to engage in these communal acts,” Chardonnay said.

Facilitating transformation through dance and music is the “communal act” that Party Noire is most interested and invested in.

Party Noire is not just a party for parties sake but, in the words of alder,

“a party for, actually somatically moving energy together—collectively, and individually.” The group is best known for its day parties hosted throughout the year at The Promontory in Hyde Park but Party Noire also brings music and culture to block parties and other events throughout

and lifelong sound curator Sean Alvarez as the trio that supported the start of her career. Each a legend in their own right, the guidance of these foundational figures served as a master class in the skill, artistry, and responsibility of what it means to be a DJ: an alchemist creating a specific sound

some sort of transferable energy.” This energy transfer is what Chardonnay refers to as a “conversation” that happens between the DJ and the dancers. For her, music is the vehicle transporting everyone involved to a rare and powerful place of understanding and connection that transcends the spoken word.

Over the years, Party Noire has continued to prioritize the sounds of the Black diaspora and increasingly centered Black queer DJs. The timelessness of the music it centers mirrors the timelessness of the collective’s mission. Party Noire’s sound is constantly becoming, and has deep roots in Chicago house, disco, Brazilian and Latin music and funk. From Lisa Decibel, a Chicago-based music producer and sound curator, to Bonita Appleblunt, a DJ and sound engineer blending modern and underground music with afrobeats, to DJ Gemini Jones, whose DJ sets are strongly influenced by the likes of Spinderella. These artists and so many more have contributed to the unique skills, artistry and love of music to co-create Party Noire’s sound.

Cultivating safe space

the city of Chicago and beyond.

As a DJ raised in Chicago’s music scene, Chardonnay’s mentors were essential to helping create the foundational sound of Party Noire. Chardonnay cites music mogul Duane Powell, the late great DJ Kwest_On,

and energy.

“I come from a background of house and dance music where dance is the most central, important thing,” said Chardonnay. “I think a lot about the kinetic energy that happens in our space. [As a DJ] you want

For many queer folks throughout the midwest and across the county, Chicago is considered a safe haven. Still, finding a space that explicitly centers Black femme folks across the gender spectrum is rare. For people like Addy Peery, Party Noire is a sacred and unique space to feel fully expressed.

“I’m an evangelist for Party Noire,” said Peery. “I just think it’s the perfect queer Black party.”

After discovering Party Noire around its founding in 2015, Peery has consistently

“Everyone steps into the space and understands the assignment: we are here for Black Joy and we are here for Black Queer Black Joy.”

Black Pride 4eva event 07/10/2023

PHOTO BY LYRIC NEWBERN

gone to its parties and activations. A Hyde Park resident of over fifteen years, The Promontory felt accessible in its proximity and design for Peery. Unlike many of the party venues in Chicago, The Promontory is fully ADA compliant with an elevator and ample seating. Peery emphasized their appreciation for the many chairs and tables right next to the dance floor, allowing folks who need to sit for extended periods of time the chance to stay engaged in the energy of the party instead of being sequestered to more isolated parts of the venue.

“I really love that as my journey into disability has transformed I’m still able to go to Party Noire and have a good time [while] keeping myself from having a flare up.”

Chardonnay and alder kept accessibility of all types central when choosing a space to ground their gatherings and when thinking about how cared for folks would feel during their parties. The co-founders don’t take the task of hosting lightly. “I'm thinking about accessibility all the way down to Rae and I having to drive someone’s car to their home and make sure they get inside safely. I think those things just feel like a part of our DNA and [it’s] why and how we keep doing what we do,” Chardonnay said.

Chardonnay’s relationship to the Promontory began long before it opened. While working for the Dorchester Art and Housing Collaborative, an initiative of the Rebuild Foundation, she was connected to those working to open the new venue in the heart of historic Hyde Park on 53rd Street. It was the intention of both co-founders from the conception of Party Noire to find a space that centered Black culture and was based on the South Side of the city.

Over the course of a near decade-long partnership, The Promontory’s security and staff have learned how to best support and honor the diverse needs of Party Noire community members. As a result of these long-standing connections and features of the venue, like its green room, which functions as a low sensory space and deescalation area, the collective has yet to have a physical altercation at an event. Additionally, prior to the day of a party, attendees receive community agreements. These house rules encourage, respect, love that centers the safety of Black femme and gender expansive people. Attendees are also offered access to a safety hotline during

the party in case an immediate need or emergency arises.

“Everyone steps into the space and understands the assignment: we are here for Black Joy and we are here for Black Queer Black Joy,” alder said.

Peery, who has attended many Party Noir parties, would agree. “I can be my full Black, non binary, queer self at Party Noir. Growing up in Toledo, Ohio I didn’t have that space. I didn’t have predominantly Black spaces and predominantly queer spaces that catered to femmes and made me feel safe. I’m just really grateful that I live in a place where that kind of environment exists, especially in the current political moment.”

Visions of “Black Utopia”

Over the years, Party Noire’s commitment to investing in and developing Black creativity has continued to grow. The tradition of supporting artists across generations is central to Chicago’s creative community and especially important for Black queer creatives. With Party Noire being a direct product of the care and investment of many of Chicago’s great DJs, spacemakers and community builders, alder and Chardonnay hope to position the organization they’ve created as a medium to support others.

Party Noire has intentionally created space for newer DJs to cut their teeth by curating the sound at parties and events. DJ k.tea, a “house head” and lover of R&B music, and DJ Diaspora, a curator of global Black music, are resident DJs of the party who started out as Party Noire interns.

Their presence at Party Noire events allows them the space and resources to grow their craft while contributing to the growing legacy of DJs that shape the collective’s sound.

Recently, their parties have started to include “open decks” where, for the first hour or two of the party, folks interested in DJing can plug in their equipment or use Chardonnay’s DJ set-up and lead party goers through a short music set. These avenues for aspiring music curators and DJs create a special opportunity to identify and encourage new talent.

While Chicago, especially the South Side, is well known for creating and cementing house music as a genre bending music tradition, the sound of the city continues to evolve and expand. Both Chardonnay and alder feel strongly that Party Noire remains inclusive of the many diverse and nuanced rhythms and forms that Black music has taken over time. It’s a space that celebrates and seeks to create a new collection of sounds that’s bigger than any specific genre of music while always

who are also deepening their work as artists or creatives, space makers, community builders, so on and so forth.”

By investing in resident DJs like DJ K.Tea and DJ Diaspora, and opening up the stage and sound system to aspirational DJs from across the city, Party Noire continues to live into its larger vision for the future.

Getting free together

Reflecting on the many parties and activations Party Noire has hosted across the city of Chicago and beyond, adler returns to one of the first night parties the collective hosted at the Promontory as a moment that, for them, continues to embody the soul of Party Noire.

Growing up in a West Indian Pentecostal Church, at a young age, alder was exposed to a spiritual transcendence that’s possible when you bring people together to move their bodies collectively to music. In the more inclusive context of Party Noire, that same energy of transformation often appears. “What keeps me connected to the work is creating this space that’s not just for us to come party,” said alder. “It definitely feels like an intentional healing space where movement and this somatic collective experience happens.”

They described that night back in the early days of the collective and said the crowd danced so intensely, and that people were taking over the stage to further celebrate and express themselves through dance.“What I remember most about that experience is just like literally the vibration of the entire building,” said alder. They stood in awe as a building as large as the Promontory seemed to be shaking—moved by the enlivened bodies of a few hundred people.

keeping Black queer aesthetics at the core.

While the collective is more aligned and clear in its mission and role in the Chicago party scene, alder and Chardonnay have a more expansive vision for what Chardonnay refers to as the “Black Utopia”: a physical space that could serve as the “homestead” to hold all of the tactile and energetic resources of Party Noire. “A space to share the things that we know and have learned, and to be able to learn from folks within the community, as well,” said alder. “[We want to] create space for other folks

This kind of communal quaking moves from the fingertips of the party’s DJs, through the bodies of its attendees and out into the city where folks leave notably impacted and possibly healed, even if only for a moment.

To experience Party Noire for yourself, checkout their next event on September 4th at The Promontory. ¬

Jasmine Barnes is a writer and space maker based in Woodlawn with a deep commitment to relational healing and creative self expression. She last reviewed Rest Is Resistance for the Weekly

Black Pride event 07/04/2023

PHOTO BY LYRIC NEWBERN

Artistic director and event producer Karlie Thornton a.k.a. dj k.tea, Deep Rooted event 05/29/2023.

PHOTO BY LYRIC NEWBERN

Cabeza De Chivo’s Emblematic Sound Pulls from Chicago’s Diversity

The band bridges cultures through the blend of genres and sounds.

BY JESUS FLORES

Awarm, humid breeze blew through the triangle-shaped bar Estereo, which was illuminated only by the midday sun. It felt like someone had ripped a bar out of Havana or Bogotá and dropped it off in the middle of Chicago. The same could be said of the members of Cabeza De Chivo, who draw from their Latinx roots to create a freewheeling psychedelic experiment in Latin musical genres.

The band consists of Alex Aguayo on drums, Andrés Crovetti on bass, Jesse Villalobos on guitar, and Vee Sonnets on keys and guitar. Together they were reminiscing over drinks about their first Wicker Park Fest performance this year.

“I felt like it was very emblematic of the group,” Crovetti said. “We were ripping it.”

“The crowd was awesome and engaging,” Aguayo said. He added that because “music is a bridge of cultures, you don't have to speak Spanish to feel the music.”

While Cabeza De Chivo’s sound has been compared to cumbia, a folkloric genre from Colombia, they describe themselves as a tropical-psych band. “That's the first thing that people know. It helps them understand what we're doing,” Aguayo said. A Chivo song might start as a fast-paced merengue but transition to a trippy salsa by the end of the performance. Sonnets points out that they also “throw in a lot of Jamaican rhythms, like rocksteady or reggae or ska.” Chivo has performed at venues like Thalia Hall, Empty Bottle, and Mole de Mayo. This year they’ve released three singles, their latest dropped on August 23 on all major streaming platforms.

The band is also emblematic of the best of Chicago. Chivo was only possible because of the diversity the city has to

offer. “I grew up listening to so much music in Albany Park. It was considered one of the most diverse neighborhoods in the country,” Villalobos said. The mix of cultures exposed each bandmate to different influences. While all band members are Latino, they are able to pull from their Ecuadorian, Venezuelan, and Mexican roots. Villalobos also said that playing in Cabeza De Chivo has brought him “closer to other people's ideas of music.” In the same way the group bridges genres, they hope their music can be a vehicle for others to discover new cultures and sounds like it has been for them.

Cabeza De Chivo was born in 2019 at the Rainbo Club, a dive bar off Damen and Division Street. Aguayo and Villalobos were catching up and bonding over Latin albums like those by Los Pirañas. Both were lifelong friends who forged their friendship through years of playing together in Chicago’s local music scene.

While Villalobos was playing in a couple of bands at the time, Aguayo had taken a long hiatus and was itching to play again. Something was calling him to reignite his passion for music with a newfound commitment. “We felt like

there was no Latino representation,” said Aguayo.

They recruited Sonnets, a classically trained musician and veteran of the local scene, to help accomplish their vision. Initially, he was reluctant to join. Sonnets only remembered Aguayo and Villalobos as young, immature musicians. “They were like feral cats,” he said. After some convincing from a mutual friend named Chase Madulara, he decided to check out what they had made.

Sonnets was blown away. “I just sat there going, holy shit, this is good.”

Originally Madulara was on bass, but he left the project to pursue flight school in Florida. Eventually, Crovetti, who was in the Milwaukee music scene and would frequent Chivo shows, approached the band through a mutual friend. He ended up being a perfect fit. “They opened for a friend of mine...and then I saw Jesse, and I was like, wait a minute, I think I might know who these cats are,” Crovetti said.

After playing together for three years, “it feels like we're all drummers, like everyone has a really deep rhythmic feel,” Crovetti said. The instruments become the song's vocals, taking turns speaking to each other, coming to the forefront and dipping

back. “Everybody's shining in their own time in their own space,” Sonnets said. While most of their music is instrumental, one song stands out in their catalog: “Perdido.” Originally the song started as an instrumental, until Aguayo wrote some lyrics about being lost, which fit naturally with the song’s melody. “Perdido” can also be about being lost in “sexuality, depression, anything—that's a universal feeling,” Sonnets added.

“Perdido” also has a more personal meaning. Aguayo’s main intention with the lyrics was to touch on themes of migration. “That's why we sing ‘from the north to south, they will always lie to you,’’' he said. When he wrote the song, “a lot of migration problems were going on.” The band pointed out how many in Chicago’s Latinx community know someone who has migrated to the city from Latin America and has faced struggles on their journey. “I migrated here when I was seventeen. . . my story's different from everyone else, but everyone has their story,” said Aguayo. “I think it was an important topic, especially to play live.”

Just as Cabeza De Chivo bridges musical genres, they hope to help their audience bridge cultures through their music. “Perdido” is about that sentiment. Not feeling like you belong here or there. And rather just wanting everybody to feel included and like they have a place to be,” Crovetti said.

Aguayo added, "at the end of the day, I hope you find that safe place—I hope you find that place where you feel yourself.” ¬

Jesús G. Flores is a Latino multimedia journalist from Hegewisch. He mostly covers Latinx subcultures and previously covered the brother-sister punk band SKIN for the Weekly

The members of Cabeza de Chivo.

PHOTO BY JESUS FLORES

Crescendo and Allegro by Pilsen Classical

The chaotic basement concert series shows that classical music can thrive outside of its traditional, stifled context.

BY FRANCISCO RAMÍREZ PINEDO

It’s a warm Friday night in July, and Everardo Sánchez and Alejandra Switala are setting the scene. They’re laying out a charcuterie board, filling a cooler with La Croix in the backyard, and putting out the final touches on what is to be their stage for the night—a basement apartment with acoustically convenient windows that allow sound to drift into passersby’s ears. There is a personalized cello case and a book about Pablo Casals on the coffee table. In the backyard, they’re prepping a fire pit and benches to surround it. This is definitely a musician’s apartment. Sánchez and Switala are setting up the place for what is to be Pilsen Classical’s first performance of 2023.

If you’ve walked the streets of Pilsen over the past few years, you may have heard ethereal music wafting out of various homes. When it’s not house music, corridos, or Bad Bunny, it’s the music of Mozart, Brahms, and Beethoven, and it’s happening live. While Chicago’s summer festival season is in full swing and one has a plethora of genres to choose from—Chicago House Music Fest, Beyoncé, Lollapalooza—Pilsen Classical offers a welcome respite from the highly technical and commercialized venues.

While Sánchez and Switala set up the apartment, their fellow performers— versatile violinists, violists, cellists—and audience start to trickle in. Once their home reaches critical mass, about ten people, they begin to play. They start with Mozart’s “Divertimento,” a trio written by the virtuoso composer in 1788. The three begin to play. It’s immediately obvious that these are not amateurs, and made all the more impressive by the fact that none of these performers knew what pieces they would play before they arrived.

This is the conceit of what they’re doing this summer, and the organic culmination of the training and friendship of Amelia de Rudder, Switala, and Sánchez. Part Tiny

Desk performance, part dress rehearsal, part musical chairs, it was borne out of the need for community in the wake of the pandemic’s distancing recommendations.

Their first concert was in 2020. “It happened by accident, this whole thing,” Sánchez said, “but the more and more we talked about it, the more and more it became such a passion project that the mission is to return to music as a communal practice.”

A Pilsen institution unto herself, de Rudder was the catalyst for creating the group. A resident of Pilsen for over twenty years with a myriad of other artistic endeavors (including a long-running, deeply immersive haunted house, La Casa de Satanás, that requires a liability waiver), she encouraged the group to create an Instagram page and curated the vibe of Pilsen Classical’s sight-reading performances. “She really helps us create, like, a magical atmosphere. I’ve never experienced anything like this before, even for performers,” Switala said.

The origins of the group predate Switala’s and Sánchez’s history in Chicago. Switala came from a musical family (her brother is a violist) and began playing the violin when she was four in Grapevine, Texas. Sánchez grew up in El Paso, Texas and originally started playing the flute before switching to string instruments when he saw his sister playing the violin.

They have connections to one another’s Texas towns and were even taught by the same teacher.

Somewhere between the “Divertimento’s” second and third movements, the crowd begins to swell as more people with their sticker-garbed string-instrument cases arrive and sit to listen and have a drink. By this point, the audience has grown into about thirty people standing shoulder to shoulder. After the trio finishes the piece and the crowd settles, Switala picks through her stack of sheet music and assesses who can play. They decide on Beethoven’s “Trio #4,” again performed by a violinist, violist, and cellist.

There is no shortage of musicians to choose from at this event. All the performers who are here to play are professional musicians. Some are graduate students at DePaul University’s conservatory; others play for the Milwaukee Symphony; some are teachers.

“They have albums out, some of them are producers, some of them cover a lot of different facets of the music industry,” Switala said. “Just a ton of experience that these players have that come that want to have a good time, but also want to make great music.”

As a self-described “chaotic” event, it is an example of the performer’s mantra that the show must go on. After David Popper’s “Requiem” (a cello trio), the next

couple of pieces were adapted to be played by who was available. “The Hymn of the Cherubim (or Cherubikon)” was written by Pyotr Tchaikovsky to be sung as a choir and was performed in Eve’s apartment as a four-cello quartet arranged by Calvin, one of the cellists. A quartet by Maurice Ravel, originally written for two violins, a viola, and a cello, was performed by a violin, two violas, and a cello.

The anarchic nature is a fitting dethronement of classical music as a hobby of the affluent, and a purposeful departure from the strict, conservative, and sterile structure that classical music halls are known for. “Even [when] it comes down to dress codes. The dress code in every orchestra I’ve played, in the Midwest, especially, it’s very conservative, very strict dress codes,” Switala said. “A lot of them don’t allow tops that don’t go above the elbow, you have to wear stockings, you can’t show your ankles, it just feels really stifling.”

The audience is encouraged to participate, walk around, and mingle. There’s no cost to attend the events and the capacity is determined by the venue, which is usually someone's apartment.

Because it is an impromptu event and in keeping with the sporadic character of the events, the best way to find out their next gathering is to turn on their story notifications on Instagram.

“The funny thing about it is that people are like, ‘You should do this regularly,’ and I’m like, ‘No,’ because that’s boring,” Switala said. “It is kind of exciting when [we decide], ‘You know what, this is a good weekend. Let's do it during the Pitchfork/ Beyoncé weekend, because the people that aren’t going to those need something to do also.’” ¬

Francisco Ramírez Pinedo is a freelance journalist and web developer based in the Southeast Side.

BULLETIN

August Happy Hour Music at Retreat

Retreat at Currency Exchange Cafe, 305 E. Garfield Blvd. Thursday, August 24, 6pm–10pm. Free.

https://bit.ly/Augusthappyhourmusic<

The last performance of this August series will feature Chicago’s Peter Jericho. Every Thursday and Friday in August, the space has been curated for music, community and food and drinks from local chefs. (Zoe Pharo)

South Shore Summer Festival

South Shore Cultural Center, 7059 S. Shore Dr. Sunday, August 27, 1pm–9pm. Free, register in advance.

https://bit.ly/SouthShoresummerfest

The South Shore Cultural Center is hosting its ninth annual annual summer celebration including local food and goods vendors and prominent musical

artists, including R&B artists Carl Thomas and K’Jon. (Zoe Pharo)

Jazz’n on the Steps

St. Moses the Black Parish, 331 E. 71st St. Sunday, August 27, 5pm–7:30pm. Free.

https://bit.ly/JazznOnTheSteps

The South Side Jazz Coalition is hosting a series of free jazz performances on the last Sunday of every month. The performances will take place on steps of the St. Columbanus Catholic Church in Greater Grand Crossing. Bring a lawn chair and a friend, and prepare to hear from the Chicago jazz community — each performance will also end with a jam session. (Zoe Pharo)

Funkadesi: Free Family

Saturdays

South Asia Institute, 1925 S. Michigan Ave. Saturday, September 2, 3pm–5pm. Free. https://bit.ly/FunkadesiSaturdays

Chicago group Funkadesi, which

plays music ranging from South Asian classical, folk and film melodies, to West African, Caribbean, Latin, Brazilian and Reggae blended with American Funk and soul, will play from their 25-year repertoire. The band will also offer an informative hands-on demonstration of their instruments for kids starting prior to the music and dance program.

(Zoe Pharo)

The Pilsen Cruise - Latin Beats with Fireworks Boat Party Summer of George - Chicago Lakefront Cruises, 900 S. Wells St. Saturday, September 2–Sunday, September 3, 8:30pm–12:30am. Tickets range from $35 to $45. https://bit.ly/ThePilsenCruise

Kombi, a Chicago presenter of underground live performances and emerging art, is bringing reggaeton, cumbia, house and banda music to Lake Michigan for a night party and sunset cruise with DJs Gonzo and others. This event is 21+. (Zoe Pharo)

DuSummer Music Series

DuSable Black History Museum and Education Center, Roundhouse Plaza, 740 E. 56th Pl. Thursday, September 7, 7pm–9pm. Tickets are $20. https://bit.ly/DuSummer.

The DuSummer music series at the DuSable Museum continues with two final performances by Danny Boy and Simone Green. Doors open at 5 p.m. (Zoe Pharo)

Under the Bridge

Ping Tom Memorial Park, 1700 S. Wentworth Ave. Saturday, September 9, 12pm–10:09pm. Suggested donation. https://bit.ly/underthebridgetechno

Super Shmove is hosting a day rave for techno lovers featuring local selectors Ariel Zetina, Microdot, Kobe Dupree, Circus Ant, Astraleon, Flores Negras, Initial G and Amayah. This event is 21+. (Zoe Pharo)

Riot Fest

Douglass Park, entrance at Ogden Avenue and Sacramento Drive. Friday, September 15–Sunday, September 17, 1pm–11pm. 3-day tickets are $300 and 1-day tickets are $100. https://riotfest.org/

The three-day concert was given the go-ahead to return to Douglass Park this year, and the lineup includes the Foo Fighters, The Cure, The Postal Service, Death Cab for Cutie, Queens of the Stone Age, The Mars Volta and more.

(Zoe Pharo)

Chicago Vintage Fest

35th Street and Morgan Street. Friday, September 15–Sunday, September 17, 4pm–6pm. Free.

https://bit.ly/vintagefestBridgeport

Chicago Vintage Fest is coming to Bridgeport for three days and will feature more than 75 vintage and handmade vendors, food trucks and curated cocktails, as well as giveaways.

First 25 guests get a free tote. Vendors accept multiple payment methods, but cash is recommended.

(Zoe Pharo)

Englewood Music Fest

On Halsted, near 63rd Street. Saturday, September 16, 1pm. Free. https://bit.ly/ EnglewoodMusicFest

Englewood Music Fest returns for its third year with a lineup that includes Trick Daddy and Trina. Sponsored by the Englewood Arts Council, the event will feature live music, love vendors, back-to-school programming, prizes, a community resource fair and more. The Chicago Printers Guild will also be tabling. (Zoe Pharo)

Hyde Park Jazz Festival

Various locations. Sunday, September 24–Monday, September 25, 2pm–8pm. Free. https://www.hydeparkjazzfestival.org/

The Hyde Park Jazz Festival, put on by

the University of Chicago and the Hyde Park Jazz Society returns this year, with a highlight on female artists. The festival takes place at a variety of venues across Hyde Park and features artists such as the Bethany Pickens Trio, Meagan McNeal, Sam Thousand & Justin Dillard, Melanie Charles with special guest Marquis Hill, Tomeka Reid and Junius Paul and more. One performance will also pay tribute to 40 years of the South Loop establishment, the Velvet Lounge. (Zoe Pharo)

Hyde Park Jazz Festival

Various locations. Sunday, September 24–Monday, September 25, 2pm–8pm. Free.

https://www.hydeparkjazzfestival.org/

The Hyde Park Jazz Festival, put on by the University of Chicago and the Hyde Park Jazz Society returns this year, with a highlight on female artists. The festival takes place at a variety of venues across Hyde Park and features artists such as the Bethany Pickens Trio, Meagan

McNeal, Sam Thousand & Justin Dillard, Melanie Charles with special guest Marquis Hill, Tomeka Reid and Junius Paul and more. One performance will also pay tribute to 40 years of the South Loop establishment, the Velvet Lounge. (Zoe Pharo)

All Up in theMIND

The Philly-native-turned-Chicagoan discusses his tranquil, ten-minute EP Coffee Grounds

BY GRETCHEN STERBA

It was 2014 and, like other condos throughout the country, the Silver Coast Citadel had been hurting for money. The 1920s yellow-brick courtyard building, which winds around the top of the 7200 block of South Yates Boulevard like a snake, had been developed into a condo in 2001. A beautiful, old building in a prime location near the lake, the Metra Electric, and a public library, its larger units sold for more than $100,000.

It’s a strange time to be making music. In this day and age, if creators gain enough clout and followers, they can release a track along with brand deals, reality-TV show appearances, and essentially everything else that comes with overnight fame.

But what many Chicagoans can attest to is that, chances are, those musicians who were hungry novices on tracks in the last decade are still around today, perfecting their craft. (It’s arguably an extension of unapologetic pride at being part of this amazing city). We may even love them a little more for that, because we’ve watched them evolve across Chicago and beyond, garnering the attention they deserve.

theMIND is one such artist. He won a Grammy for his work on Chance the Rapper’s 2016 anthem “No Problem” and garnered critical acclaim from Pitchfork his debut album Summer Camp, released the same year. He’s since evolved to produce a more concentrated, holistic body of work that began with his second studio album Don’t Let It Go To Your Head, which featured his top hit to date, “Ms. Communication,” a song about ghosting.

theMIND, whose given name is Zarif Wilder, is one of the artists who define the Chicago music scene, though he didn’t actually have a Chicago upbringing.

Born in Philadelphia, Wilder bounced around in the foster care system for the

act as a catalyst for his introspective lyrics, such as these, from “Other Side,”

Outside of my comfort zone/Trying to find myself in songs/Long way from them shelters and foster homes”.

He invites listeners in with personal anecdotes, whether to comfort those whose truths are reflective of theirs, or to internalize a deep, raw perspective. His ability to storytell over a variety of sounds—some R&B, some experimental—

to discuss Coffee Grounds (side note, he doesn’t drink coffee, but is instead an iced matcha oat-milk latte kinda guy) and the resilience, struggle, and joy of his journey as a musician.

South Side Weekly: Can you walk me through the genesis of the Coffee Grounds EP and why you felt compelled to release a body of work like this?

theMIND: The project came about because we were trying to do a reset of [our] sound. Me and Vooo [the producer Coffee Grounds] had done a bunch of records together. But I was trying to figure out a space that I wanted to be in Don’t Let It Go To Your Head (Deluxe , and we just found this common ground—the thought of coffee grounds, [and how they] reset the palette after you sniff perfume, so you can sniff more perfume. And the aspect of how caffeine gives you a fresh look or take on the world Ed. note: theMIND has his own fragrance, Gemini Sh*t, that riffs on Castor ].

I’ve always linked up with one producer, got trapped in that world for a second and, you know, Summer Camp was just one producer. Don't Let It Go To Your , it was like one producer. Summer was Renzell. I don’t wanna do that anymore, but Vooo can do so many sounds that it just worked. I felt like I was working with like six different people.

Having worked with Chicago artists like Saba, Noname, Mick Jenkins, Kari Faux, Pivot Gang, and so many others, do you want to be known as a collaborative artist, do you want to try to maybe embrace more of just being a solo artist, or is there a happy marriage between the two?

I think that collaboration in general in this world is the best thing that God has given us herself. For us to see someone else’s perspective, and for us to build off of that, and for you to try to make my ideas better, you know, so on and so forth. Or for me to see something in your thing.

I love working with people. I love working with my friends. I love digging them up. I love being able to accent or add something to someone’s already beautiful work. But I will say that I’m moving into

PHOTOS OF THEMIND BY MATTHEW WHITE

this portion of my career, [where] I do want to establish myself as who I think that I am, which is a really cold motherfucker. I think that I’m really good at what I do, I think I’m really good at making music, and I don’t want people to think that I’m only good because I work with good artists. I want people to think that the reason why I work with good artists is because I’m really good. Like, if I bring somebody in, I want to bring people into my world instead of entering other people’s worlds, you know?

On the track “Other Side” you say: “Only started buzzing 2016 / But I've been on the scene since ‘07 / On God.” Seven years after 2016, where have you seen growth in your career?

I still look at all of the years in between not really as time passing, but more as lessons learned. I think that I’ve made a lot of mistakes in music, not because I wanted to or that I was trying to, [but] just because there was no one there. I think so often, we don’t look at humans like that, and we don’t look at other artists like that, and because of that, we don’t look at our partners like that, our parents, anybody ... We look at it immediately like, “You knew what you were doing and that hurt me.” And so many times during this past seven years, people haven’t given me that grace, but I’ve given them the grace for them hurting me. And that’s my shit. I’ve dealt with other trauma.

Because of that, it feels like sometimes I found myself on an island, or super isolated. And I felt like I should have been more like them; more cold-hearted, more cutthroat, more like, “Oh I should do this” or I should look at the industry in this way ... But I can’t, because as soon as someone tells me that this is an artist, or this is them there, I still look at them like a human.

I think that's the most fucked-up part, because that's not what’s happening on the other side. And, no pun intended there, but I do think that sometimes being the liaison of love will also leave you to be the punching bag to a lot of people. I feel like that’s my burden, to hold up my world and my shit, and as much as I possibly can of the people around me, because they help me out so much. So I think I’m just giving back.

You talked about mistakes in music, but do you have any regrets? Do you wish you could go back and change something or is it more so just an “I’m moving forward” stance?

Art, once it’s done and you put it on the wall, [you] can’t touch it anymore. Like, if I said something that was gross or if I said something that was a reflection of my immaturity or who I was at that time. And that's important for us to know [in] this new age where life stops feeling like it's linear and everyone just has to automatically be perfect.

As humans, we grow, we meet people, and that changes us. You know what I’m saying, [it changes us] fundamentally. You gain this sense of empathy. Now, with the internet, we’re supposed to gain it a little bit faster, but at the same exact time, due to systematic oppression, all types of bullshit like that, sometimes people are locked out from knowledge. And that can cause motherfuckers not to know any better. So there’s a lot of things in my life where I just didn’t know any better. And then as soon as I did, that’s when you have the responsibility to do better. I think that if we move with that, that’s how I kind of move in my art now, where it’s just like I’m not going back erasing shit.

I want you to look at that. But I also want you to hear me now when I say that, like, that was a kid, that was a boy, like that was somebody who did not understand the world. My art has been influenced just by

the aspect of, the more I know, the more I feel beholden to say whatever the fuck I'm actually going to. I can’t lie. I can’t lie on

I’ve always wanted to be the antihero in some of my songs, because I don’t think people speak from those perspectives,

specifically in art. They try to be the best version [of themselves], like, “Oh yeah, she hurt me.” No, you hurt her and now you’re acting hurt. You’re gaslighting.

Is that something you want to hold yourself to? Not being able to lie on a record?

For sure. It’s harder, it’s getting harder to write songs. Not because I can’t write anymore; it’s because I have to tell the truth. I try to make up shit, or I could do fantastical shit and try to do all that stuff, but it still has to be based in reality in some way, shape, or form. And if I can’t do that, then the song is gonna sound like shit.

Your music ranges from a track like “9mm” (“Now somehow become a man/You betta not fucking die/YOU BETTER NOT FUCKING DIE!”) to Coffee Grounds, which has a more melodic, laid-back sound. Do you make

it a mission to not box yourself in?

Boxes are for messes. And while I might be a mess, I like to see it out on the floor, still to try to figure it out. But I think we’re music nuts; every artist now listens to everything.

I get it for the sense of awarding people things, but no, I don’t think so. I can name you a hundred better singers than me. But the other thing that I realize with my voice is that I can’t name a bunch of singers who sound like me, and that’s beautiful.

So “9mm” is being unapologetic to the younger version of myself and just being

like, “Hey, even though you got handed a shitty hand, you better not fucking die, like, I swear to God, you better not die at any point in this entire situation.”

I felt like the world looked at me like that, and I felt like the world looks at a lot of young Black boys like that, where it’s just like, you hold a gun up to them and then you give them every instance and every resource to kill themselves. And then when they do kill themselves, you’re like, “Aw.” Instead of it being like, “Damn, like this is a tale of survival, like, how the fuck did you make it out of it?”

Then when you get to, like, this project

that feels so harsh, and I didn’t want to be as harsh. I wanted to tell my story with other aspects of my story that aren’t just trauma. There’s beautiful parts of my story. There’s fun that I had, and how do I tell those stories without getting wrapped up or feeling like I’m just putting my pain up for people to consume?

I don’t feel like I’m doing that. I feel like I’m trying to create something relatable that people can kind of work through their shit with me. But as we got into Coffee Grounds, I just didn’t want that to be [at] the forefront. Like, Don't Let It Go To Your Head. It’s supposed to be about

like, I want to make this shit that makes everyone be like, “Who the fuck is this guy?” And I don't think I’ve made that yet.

You’re going on a Midwest tour with Kari Faux, and you have a show coming up in Chicago on August 24. Do you feel like performing is an extension of your artistry?

You said something earlier about what we were talking about, like going back and re-altering art? Yeah, I can do it live. So, on a live rendition, because it’s only sitting here, I can speak. It’s not me altering the art.

It’s me being truthful about how I feel now. So if I wanted to alter words or the

trauma and like me not letting that ruin me. Coffee Grounds is supposed to be about me resetting how I look at the world, not looking at it from a traumatized lens, [but rather] looking at it from trying to heal. I’m no longer focusing on the scar or the pain. I'm more so focusing on, like, “Damn, like, that was fun as fuck, I was skating and I fucking skinned my knee.”

So what are your goals right now? What kind of direction are you trying to go in?

I feel like I got the art side down, you know what I mean? I feel like what I [have to do is] work in the music business, you know what I’m saying? You cannot just do music, you have to do the business side as well. And I feel like I struggle at that shit and I fucking suck at asking for help.

I feel like I’m still trapping against the algorithm and shit like that. But also, it’s not even against any of that shit. It’s about,

emotion that is there, I can do it in front of you live because that’s me now present rather than me, you playing a recording of me and me altering that.

There’s so many effects on my vocals, like we pitched them up, pitched them down all over that record, different formatting, all types of shit. And because of that, I think sometimes the actual message gets lost in translation. But doing it live, you just hear me say it, and I look at you and talk to you about that feeling.

If you’re not a theMIND fan, come to a show; I’ll make you one. You’re gonna leave and be like, “Yo, who the fuck was that?” ¬

Gretchen Sterba is a freelance journalist based in Chicago. She’s been published in the Chicago Reader, HuffPost, BUST Magazine, and more. She last wrote for the Weekly about how Governor Pritzker’s anti-book ban law doesn’t affect those incarcerated in Illinois.

PHOTOS OF THEMIND BY MATTHEW WHITE

“I wanted to tell my story with other aspects of my story that aren't just trauma. There's beautiful parts of my story.”

A Walk Through J Wade’s Discography

BY KRISTIAN PARKER

Jaylin

Wade, today known as J Wade, began making music in 2016, while he was a junior at Lindblom College Prep Academy. Within just a few short years, the independent, underground South Side rapper has quietly perfected his craft, putting out a consistent stream of projects defined by intentional storytelling and dense lyricism.

“To get the way paved, I get the acres razed to make a statement, my head splitting, from executive decisions, caught up in ‘em.”

The names of Wade’s recent projects, from Lily of the Valley and Ozymandias to The One Who Knocks, suggest more than a passing interest in the TV show Breaking Bad

But what he really sets out to accomplish—whether as a rapper, beat selector, or creative director—is cinematic impact. Whether he’s sampling a blaxploitation satire like Coonskin, a classic anime like Afro Samurai, or a video game, each J Wade project is an exercise in worldbuilding.

“It’s intentional. The things we [sample] might vary as far as the medium. But the point is: you want the moment to be grand,” Wade said.

The Weekly recently spoke with Wade to trace his creative journey across five of his most notable projects to date.

“Lily of the Valley is pretty important because it has different emotions and different sounds”, Wade said. Produced by Cloud Boy and DVNTBeats—two of Wade’s friends and collaborators in the fast-growing Creative Mansion collective—the eight-song EP serves as a formal introduction to J Wade’s sound, with fast-paced flows woven across soulful and jazzy beats.

Wade said that when he and Cloud Boy decided to release a collaborative follow-up, Ozymandias, it was to “hold people over until their next big project”

came out. But the project was their “first time putting a project together on [their] own,” and a leap forward for Wade’s worldbuilding.

“Whenever I think of this project, I think of the fourth song, ‘Latosha, I’m Sorry,’” Wade said.

“It was me, Jesse 5k, and Cloud in the studio. He pretty much found the beat and

Wade also credits Ozymandias for expanding his fan base and getting the attention of future collaborators like Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon of Charlotte, North Carolina. “When people first found me, this was pretty much the project that they were really listening to.”

The One Who Knocks, which dropped in

from start to end.” As he raps on “Midnight Magic”:

“If I can stay hungry, Defunct things, Sneakin into my timeframe, The line stays as gray as ever, True you too in tune to use it as leverage.”

But just six months later, Wade followed it up with Means To the Ends Executive produced by Raleigh’s Pleasant Sherman (who Wade never met in person) and professionally mixed, Wade views it as his first time curating a project on his own. “[Pleasant Sherman] just sent me all the beats, and I’d record in my room,” Wade said. “I was handling everything: deciding what went where, and deciding what beats I wanted to use. A lot of songs didn’t make the cut.”

Wade’s Feint of Heart EP, on the other hand, came together quickly, and draws on a range of production talent.

“I recorded all of these songs in one studio session—like, I just came with all of them written, and then just recorded all of them in like three-and-a-half hours. Then I went home and just put it all together.”

One thing is true when it comes to J Wade as an artist: he is a student of hiphop. His appreciation for the art form is affirmed through utilizing intentional modes of storytelling. His catalog, smooth delivery, and technical abilities only grow over time because his projects are rooted in collaboration. Inspired by the likes of distinctive, witty rappers such as MF DOOM and Lupe Fiasco, Wade is forced to be reckoned with in an era that is redefining rap.

J Wade’s Means To The Ends vinyl will be available August 25 via Supa Sounds on Bandcamp. ¬

then he freestyled the whole thing. But while he was recording it, I wrote my whole verse. So we pretty much did that song in

March 2022, was three years in the making. For Wade, it remains “the peak of worldbuilding, cohesiveness, and just intention,

Kristian is a writer and visual storyteller, inspired to shape perspectives by sharing unique narratives.

The independent rapper is defined by his dense lyricism and cinematic sampling.

"The peak of world-building, cohesiveness, and just intention, from start to end."