NYC’s Rap Powerhouse Cakes Da Killa Learns to Trust Being Vulnerable

The Slice is RBMA Radio’s in-depth look into the artists shaping the New York scene (and beyond). In a recent episode of the show, host Harley Brown spoke with Cakes Da Killa, the incendiary rapper whose unique perspective and rhymes have earned him a devoted following. In this excerpt from their chat, Cakes Da Killa discusses his initial interest in rap, the experience of working with his musical heroes and learning to trust being vulnerable without sacrificing sonic impact.

What inspired you to start rapping in high school?

It wasn’t really a thing that inspired me. It’s just, you know, being a black guy in the lunchroom. Everyone would just knock on the tables doing the “Grindin’” beat, and it’s like, “Oh, I could rap, I could rap.” ’Cause that’s kind of the fun thing to do when you’re in the lunchroom. For me, being this very effeminate gay character, it was like, “I could rap too, guys!” And it’s like, “No, you can’t.”

So you felt like you had something to prove?

I had something to prove, and it was also just funny to embarrass people who thought I couldn’t do it.

Reading people at an early age. The library was open.

Always. It never closes.

It sounds like your interest in rap developed at the same time as your interest in dance music.

Right. I mean, I’ve always had different experiences with music. Rap was always around growing up, but growing up with my aunt’s record collection, she had No Doubt albums. Alanis Morissette. I got exposed to different types of music. When I was in high school and college I started discovering weird EDM music and electronic music.

What were some of the first EDM artists that you listened to?

I don’t even know some of the first, but I know it was like me discovering this weird channel, and they would show me groups like CSS. That’s something that someone would not think I would listen to, but I love that band. Goldfrapp. Like, very electro music. This was really early on during MySpace days where you would have MySpace music pages, and you would discover all these cool artists who were making music in downtown New York. That inspired me to just do my own thing.

When you were in high school, did you ever go out to clubs? I feel like New Jersey kids get introduced to club music at a younger age. They play Jersey club at school dances and stuff, which is kind of cool.

That’s a different part of Jersey. I’m from Bergen County, which is really close to New York, so we don’t even listen to club music. When I went to college in Montclair, which is closer to Newark, that’s when I started hearing it, or when I would go visit family in Jersey City.

For me, the club music wasn’t really something I grew up with. I had to discover it, but you know, being in high school, a lot of people don’t leave Jersey. They kind of just stay there in this bubble, and for me it was like, “No.” I was going to raves and DIY parties in Brooklyn before, you know, everything got shut down, and it was kind of like I caught the tail end of the heyday of nightlife. It was a really good experience to just get out there and experience different things.

How did you find out about these clubs?

Myspace! Just following interesting people. I discovered a lot of different key figures in nightlife online, like Contessa Stuto, who was throwing a lot of parties. People like Tigga Calore, different DJs, and also just being in the mix. You meet different people and you just go to different parties.

And you did a track with Calore on your last record. That must’ve been pretty amazing to do a track with someone you admired so long ago.

For me that’s what it’s all about. I think that’s what’s kind of lacking in nightlife. It’s the respect of the legacy of people, you know? ’Cause I remember the first night I met Calore, I was like, “Girl, I love you. I love you. I love you so much.”

Me, I could see Shakira and it’s like, “OK girl, but do you see Calore in the corner?” You know what I’m saying? It’s so good, the impact people have on nightlife, and being creative and hustling and striving and actually having an impact on the world. I mean, of course, come, do a record with me. I love you. It’s full circle. That’s what my life is about: full circle moments.

How are you producing these tracks?

I have my in-house people who I work with a lot and I’ve been working with for a while, like LSDXOXO and people like Wildkatz. I’m also always reaching out and establishing relationships with different people depending on my mood. The reason why the production for [“Easy Bake Oven”] is so weird is that was like me being a baby. Like, “Oh, I don’t know what mixing is; just put it on Soundcloud,” because that was very like the generation I grew up in. It’s like you record a record on your laptop and you put it on and you tour the world. It didn’t work out like that, but yeah.

Obviously people discover artists like you on Soundcloud a lot. Who was the first person to reach out? How did you know that people were listening and enjoying your stuff?

I kind of just fell into it. I knew people enjoyed my music from my first show. I knew I was kind of a natural at it, and it wasn’t anything that I forced. I took it very seriously because I did respect the art of making music, and the art of putting on a show. It wasn’t just about getting drunk and jumping up and down with my friends. You know what I’m saying?

When I got asked to go on tour in Australia, that was maybe four years ago, and I’d never even been out the country. I was like, “OK. You could do this!” You know what I’m saying? I was in the club like, “OK!” They was like, “Can you get on a flight tomorrow?” I’m like, “Of course. Bye mom!” That was cool.

The next album of yours I want to visit is The Eulogy in 2013. Why did you name your record The Eulogy?

I called it The Eulogy because I didn’t think I was gonna keep rapping anymore. I was gonna graduate college, and I didn’t see a career in it. It was fun and it was cute to get drink tickets at clubs and free entry, but it was, “OK, this really isn’t going anywhere, so bye guys. Peace out. I have to be an adult.”

What were you studying in college?

Journalism and fashion studies, so either way I was gonna be out here hustling.

You can definitely hear a development in your rapping style. Your bars are obviously way more dense. What did working on that look like? Were you practicing while you’re waiting for your laundry to be done or something?

I think the main thing that was the transition from the first song to a song like “Break ‘Em Off” was actually just learning different techniques to recording. You know, learning how to punch in. Before, I would just try to do the whole verse and everyone is like, “You could slow down.” I’m like, “I’m just trying to get it done.”

I like to work really fast. It’s mainly working with different techniques and also getting comfortable. When I did a lot of tracks off Easy Bake Oven I was in the studio, but it was a different mind state with The Eulogy – I was recording in a gospel studio.

Wildkatz was working out of this gospel studio in Queens, and I would just go up there and spit some really nasty, unchristianly things in the booth. It was a good experience.

Blushing the whole time.

Exactly. Fanning myself, clutching pearls.

I want to go back to the very first rappers that you started listening to. Did you feel the need to emulate them, or were you like, “No, fuck that. I’m just gonna do my own thing”?

I didn’t feel the need to emulate any rappers. I felt like what the rappers that I listened to instilled in me was the very no-fucks-given, “just do you” mentality. Those are really people like Missy Elliot, Busta Rhymes, Jadakiss. People who didn’t package themselves like a cookie-cutter mold of what a rapper looked like or sounded like, and also still kept it really gritty and urban and themselves, and also related to hip-hop.

Going back to what you said earlier about how you studied journalism and fashion, and what we were talking about merging dance and rap, The Eulogy and then the mixtape that you released after that, IMF... By the way, does that stand for “Ignorant Motherfucker”?

“IMF” stands for “In My Feelings” ’cause that’s exactly what that whole EP was about. Me having an Adele moment. One of the shining beacons to my career.

“Mixed Messages,” especially.

Exactly. That’s you get for dealing with boys in the Bronx, honey. They’ll do you in. Literally.

Those two were released on Mishka, which is also a fashion institution, and they release a lot of records from like Major Lazer and Skream, which are also dance-focused. How did you connect with them and wind up releasing those on that label?

At the time my homie Michael Cohn was working there, and he was like the music director, I would say? Maybe that’s not his position, but he was curating a lot of different projects and just giving people a platform. I was self-releasing my music and I was enjoying it. Once he reached out to me, he was like, “You know, if you want to be able to put it out on Mishka, that would be a good look.”

I already had the project done. Everything was already packaged, ’cause I’m an independent female, you know what I’m saying? So I was like, “Here, put it out if you guys like it.” You know, “Give me some free clothes.” Me and the company just had a really longstanding work relationship. When I did the EP, I was like, “Let’s just do it again, guys.” They threw me a party in the store that’s now closed. It’s so sad, but yeah. Old New York, darling, you know? I still bangs with them hard. I really have a lot of respect for them.

We don’t have to get into the background of the EP too much if it’s still sensitive, but I am curious about where it came from, because it is a bit more vulnerable than the other stuff that you’ve done.

At the time I was writing this project, I wanted to do something that was different. Not to say that I don’t write different music, but I was so sick of people explaining to me what type of artist I was. It was kind of weird to be like, “Oh, this Cakes. He’s the gay one that talks about blowjobs.”

It’s like, “Well, sometimes I don’t just do that, you know? It’s other things that come with the blowjobs.” So I decided I wanted to do a EP that was a guy that kind of broke my heart. The whole project is about him, so I just wanted to do a really depressed love letter.

It’s also a very beautiful love letter.

I think so. It’s cute. I think sonically it’s still very much in the club. It’s not too somber, but the content is very vulnerable, which I do like.

You are still hard. I remember the cover, because you’ve got the little prison tear tattoos coming out of your eye.

Completely. Obviously I’m not gonna be a complete wimp about it. Boys come and go, but I just had to show a different side of the girl.