![]() ![]() “I want niggas to feel that unh again,” his quiet voice becoming more impassioned, sounding like an athlete on the sidelines in the final seconds of a fourth quarter, telling the coach to let him in the game. Real hanging from the wall rock star shit.” Get like 10,000 people, line ’em up, and let ‘em in 2,000 at a time. “I ain’t gonna lie to you bruh,” turning to look in my eyes, “I’m ready to have Erin book me a small venue and do four to five shows a day. His manager, a music industry maven named Erin Larsen, stands behind us, by the closed door. Later he’ll use the room to change in and out of clothes he brought for the magazine cover shoot. We’re sitting side by side, shoulder to shoulder, in an all-black dressing room the size of a spacious closet. “I’m missing a half of me,” said the rock star with soft, somber disgust, answering the inquiry, ‘how does it feel to not have the live stage right now?’ as if a dear friend has departed. Yet, instead of bringing the world closer to him, the Atlanta-born genre-bender maintains a distance between artist and audience. Privacy feels more and more foreign as social media developers continue to find new ways for us to share stories, photos, art, and music. All elusive men in music who keep a gap separating their private world and their public lives. Famous musicians who choose to curate a quieter online and offline presence are naturally enigmatic-unicorns in a herd of horses. A sense of mystery surrounds him, which is rare to find in an age of hypervisibility. Any other contemporary rapper wouldn’t have been a surprise, but Playboi Carti isn’t your ordinary artist. Monday, January 25th, is when it was asked, precisely one month after the release of his Billboard-topping sophomore album, Whole Lotta Red. “Do you want to interview Playboi Carti?” was the question that brought us together.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |