Good Convo

From Takoma Park, MD to the Bay to L.A, Yihenew Belay (known as Heno.) has lived his life infatuated by the potential of what life could be once acknowledging the known unknown as inevitable. He’s lived through the streets, addiction, depression, hypersurveillance and the trials of forging one’s path as an independent artist. Death was the only guarantee, and that granted him the freedom to be. A dark utterance on a train ride became his album’s namesake: Death Ain’t That Bad. And as Heno. speaks with Michael — our host, and an artist grappling with that question all his life — the Maryland comrades send a beacon out for nomads, for Black folks, for dreamers gazing into the void and taking steps nonetheless.

To witness the gifts of serpentwithfeet is to witness an immeasurable gratitude to the legacies before him, and an incomparable style emanating from himself. His voice commands the room, his melodies haunt and delight within seconds, and his star’s rising with every dazzling performance. He’s also an Old Bay advocate and a purveyor of the power of corniness. In this episode, Michael and serpent connect for the second time (first published — Michael lost their first interview to tech errors three years ago). Within, the duo discuss DEACON, the necessity of community, and how to balance love and rage.

The cheerleader: a symbol of power, femininity, even purity should she be coated in porcelain. She’s despised and desired, and according to Mia Berrin, this image colored her formative girlhood experiences as a pillar of something unattainable. Pom Pom Squad became her project: a reimagining of the figure and an ongoing examination of the vulnerability of otherness via race, gender, and queerness. On this episode, Mia checks in with Michael to discuss how her youth paved the road to this project and her upcoming full-length debut Death of a Cheerleader. The pair also discuss the whitewashing of Black music, the power and money behind modern indie aesthetics and how to walk in one’s pain to power something beautiful.

Kevin Rhomberg’s well-accustomed to the whirlwind of what a music career can be: He’s been on the broke hustle in L.A., been on the radio, and won a Grammy just to end up back in the dingy apartment where he got out his dreams. Knox Fortune’s already took us to Paradise with his otherworldly pop sensibilities, and when the world needed him… he faded to the background. Now, he’s in New York with his lover, fresh off the COVID album cycle of Stock Child Wonder. On this episode, Knox talks to Michael (for the second time) about what he’s done in the years between records, the perception of artist/producers, the shifting meaning of home, and how memory informs the warmth of his music.

‘Twas a simple recommendation (before recording our ARTHUR episode) that initiated our host into the otherworldly nature of 454. Almost a year later, and the artist born Willie Wilson is poised for a breakthrough by making hyperdriven rap influenced by everything from footwork to early Rvidxr Klvn. His 4 LIFE mixtape served as introduction for many fans and tastemakers, but Wilson’s shy and humble aura glows through the screen from his Bushwick bedroom. For every smile, there’s a shade of the darkness he endured that molded his purpose. In this episode, 454 and Michael detail how place informs his process, the transition from Orlando to NYC, and everything that fuels him in chasing the unknown for all to enjoy.

What’s life for the Lil Scammer That Could? Ask Oakland’s own Guapdad 4000, and it looks like a feature on a platinum record, a hefty Lyft budget, several durags, and L.A. weather. Gone are the days of his Dior Deposits, but not the pain that came from it; when one inherits a hustler’s bloodline, one’s never too far from chaos. That’s what makes the fabric of Guap and !llmind’s collab album 1176, and it’s the fabric of this episode as well. Within, Guap and Michael discuss the Bay’s impact on music and culture, the way Guap maneuvers between clout and creativity, and the choices Guap made throughout his life to stand on his own ten no matter where you place him.

Fana Hues is a Black woman from Pasadena: known for the Rose Bowl, yet small enough for everybody to know one another. Whether shows with the family band or volunteering in her neighborhood, her entire life thus far has given her the foundation for an artist with a deep care for community. She contains many methods to speak, only strengthened by the time in life where she couldn’t; a childhood flurry of illnesses hushed her voice to a whisper, carving space for her to find her strength inside and out. Now, her star turn: this episode (her first podcast ever!) finds Fana chatting with Michael about the California she comes from, what prepared her to release her first collection Hues, and building the framework for all her artistic selves to belong to.

What happens when the theatre kid/music nerd earns a life-changing role that marks him as the next All-American Boy Next Door? If you’re Joe Keery, that means your teenage stans call you Steve from Stranger Things, and a pizza company fashions you like Ferris Bueller. From a sleepy Massachusetts town to the Chicago indie rock scene to Hollywood, this episode finds Michael talking to Joe while he’s isolated in Atlanta while shooting. The pair discuss how Joe’s rise to fame found him adjusting to reality while circling his passion back towards doing what he loves on his terms. Together, they unpack the circumstances behind the first Djo album Twenty Twenty, dissect the Boy Next Door mythology, and offer a new portrait of Joe Keery with no red carpet attached.

There’s a common thread in being thoroughly accomplished, yet feeling like you still have plenty to prove. Enter the life of Ricky Reed: Grammy-winning producer, songwriter, Billboard veteran, reformed indie rocker, and EDM hybrid artist in a past life as well. Movie themes, #1 records, deep cuts… chances are, Ricky’s laid hands on something you love. He’s a man of many breakthroughs, but his second album started via live breakdown: The Room came to him and his collaborators as a COVID salve and a divine return to the purpose he couldn’t evade. From the basement of his new home, Ricky walks Michael through the work behind the victories, his principles for staying productive, and what the industry should do to stand by its marginalized talent.

Erick Arc Elliott (known as the Architect) has spent the past decade as one-third of the beloved NYC crew Flatbush Zombies, leaving a collective legacy as one of the most energized live acts in hip-hop. Solo, Elliott’s built a discography as one of the most versatile producer-rappers of all time. They’ve never signed the paperwork, so the books are written differently; nevertheless, the Architect’s paving his own waves no matter what. On this episode, Erick chats with Michael about the moments that brought Erick from label marketing rep to underground legend to festival act. The two also reminisce on 2010s blog rap, and decode the concepts behind Future Proof, Erick’s new EP and album and a framework for survival and self-improvement.