Entertainment

Freddy Will Gives a Breakdown of His Music

Published

3 years ago

May 1, 2023

This article consists of two parts. We chronicle the creative method of a Grammy-nominated independent recording artist. Some know him. Many don’t. Freddy Will said he is a Mande. He dropped his first joint in 2006. As for his cultural environment, he is from Sierra Leone and raps in Krio and American English while combining old school Hip Hop with Afrobeat, Calypso, Soca, Rock, and Classical. Perhaps that’s why he describes himself as an Afropolitan who records and performs crossover Hip Hop.

We checked to verify the “City Boy” artist’s claims. Our investigation revealed that he had lived his life in stages. The first was when he was born in Brookfields Freetown, Sierra Leone, to a high school principal and a nurse. They became UN diplomats and Gospel preachers. Freddy entered his second phase when his parents moved to Liberia. There he received a Catholic education. At the same time, he was active in Church with his parents, learning to sing, compose, and play musical instruments.

This preacher’s son told us a friend introduced him to Hip Hop, but a civil war ensued. After some clashes with rebel militants, he entered the third phase of his life by returning to Sierra Leone. The gist of this part of his story is that he was separated from his family. They emigrated to the United States while he stayed with his father’s parents and relatives in Sierra Leone. He attended three secondary schools, Christ the King College, Methodist Boys High School, and Ansarul Muslim Secondary School.

We are sure there is a story. It could have something to do with the civil war. After running with the national soldiers, the preacher’s son graduated from high school. The Islamic school explains his reverence for Islam. Hip Hop was very unpopular in Sierra Leone in the early 1990s. Freddy Will’s conservative relatives opposed his adherence to the music culture. He was later one of many refugees who immigrated to The Gambia as the Sierra Leone civil war escalated. This was the fourth phase in his life journey.

In The Gambia, a teenager Freddy Will spent most of his time writing music and screenplays. He compiled volumes of handwritten Rhyme Books. Freddy briefly moved to Senegal to reconnect with an uncle before emigrating to the States to join his parents, grandparents, and siblings. His father is from the Loko people of Sierra Leone. His maternal grandmother was an African American of Guyanese descent. While his father’s parents lived in Sierra Leone, his mother’s parents lived in the United States.

We learned that Mande is an ethnic people from which various groups descend. They are Susu, Loko, Mandingo, Gio, Bambara, Vai, Gbandi, Mende, Kissi, and many more. Freddy is Mande, as his father is from the Loko people, while his mother is from the Mandingo people. However, his mother’s background also includes African American and Guyanese on her mother’s side. Her father’s lineage stretches back to Mali, Senegal, and Guinea. He was a Sheikh with a peculiar birthright among his people.

In Freddy Will’s mind, he became an Afropolitan after naturalizing in the United States and entering his sixth phase with emigration to Canada. During the fifth phase, he put his music career on hold to pursue other opportunities like his post-secondary education. In Toronto, he returned to music, recording Hip Hop albums, a mixtape, and an EP, and released them independently. He later came in his seventh phase when he moved from Canada to Europe. His emigration gives his Afropolitical perspective.

We also note that he transitioned from rapping to literary writing between his sixth and seventh phases. We focus on his sixth phase, when he recorded and released his albums in Toronto. Freddy has published a book series in Europe and released two albums there. When asked about his transition, he gave three reasons. One was his age. He was in his mid-thirties. Another reason he gave was his influence on the fans. He didn’t want to make music with an adverse impact; the last was to “follow his dream.”

Q: Why do you refer to yourself as an Afropolitan?

Freddy Will: “The best way to describe where I belong is to say I’m an Afropolitan. I feel loyal to all the countries I’ve lived in. Yes, I’m a proud American, but in a way, I’m also Liberian, Gambian, Senegalese, Canadian, Belgian, and even German. It’s a kind of psychological connection. Life has given me a transnational identity with my roots in Sierra Leone.”

Q: Very well. What do you say to those who only want you to represent Sierra Leone?

Freddy Will: “Oh, make no mistake, Afropolitans get criticized. Considering how the system works, everyone won’t get that being an Afropolitan is not an aspiration. Life happens. You keep relocating from country to country. You move around the diaspora. Of course, I’m a Sierra Leonean at heart. We call Sierra Leone ‘the land that we love.’ I sprout from deep roots in Gbendembu. It’s my heritage. Whether people realize it or not, everything I do, every failure or accomplishment, represents Salone.

On the other hand, life goes on. Every Afropolitan feels thankful to the diasporas where we’ve lived. Each one adds something to our experience and character. Our awareness shifts from one culture to another. There’s also that downside where we often don’t fit in as newcomers after living in a different country. Sometimes the only hope is to go back to our roots so we grasp our culture. You know what I mean? That’s why I identify as an Afropolitan. It’s the best way to understand people who live like we do.”

Q: Speaking about roots, we learned that your grandfather was a Sheikh with connections to Mali, Senegal, and Guinea, and your grandmother was African American with ties to Guyana. You straddle Africa, the Caribbean, and the United States.

Freddy Will: “Yes. There were a lot of mixed marriages. My mother’s father, Alhaji Sheikh Abdul Gardrie, was a Mandingo. These are the people who founded the Mali Empire. When you trace his lineage, it goes from Senegal to Mali and from Guinea to Sierra Leone. I’m still determining the Yoruba part, but it’s there. Even my last name, Kanu, is primarily Nigerian. I’m figuring out how this Nigerian last name ended up in Sierra Leone. But that’s on my father’s side. The Yoruba is on my mom’s side.

Our family, we even have relatives in Canada now. The Kanu lives there too. Plus, Canada plays a significant role in Sierra Leone’s history. Yes, my mother’s mom was African American. I don’t remember exactly, but they say my grandma’s mom was Guyanese, and her dad was African American. On my father’s side, we’re from a place called Gbendembu. The Loko and the Mandingo are sub-groups of the Mande ethnic group. Some are Muslims, while others are Christians. I’m all that culture in my lineage.”

Q: Tell us about your music. How would you describe it?

Freddy Will: “My music expresses cultural, religious, political, and social experiences. Sometimes it’s a celebration, and other times it’s a howling. At the core, it’s Hip Hop. This genre has shaped many aspects of me. I rap in most of the music. Although, on the production end, the sound could be more assorted. I’d describe my music as a crossover Hip Hop.”

Q: How were you introduced to music?

Freddy Will: “Before he became a born-again Christian, my father used to play music in the house. Back in Liberia, he had an entertainment system. It had a record player. He had many records. My parents threw parties, if I remember correctly. Our neighbors did the same thing. Liberia was a very musical place when I was growing up. Every birthday came with a party, with lots of music and dancing. When my parents converted to born-again Christianity, the music changed to Gospel but still music.”

Q: Were you in the Church choir?

Freddy Will: “No. I’ve always been an outcast. I don’t fit in, so I do my thing. That was the same case in the Church. The choir was there, but I couldn’t get in. I’d watched them sing. I watched them practice, but they didn’t let me join. For me, the answer was always no. Although when I lived in Bo, they had a youth group at our Church. I wasn’t a full member, but once, they let me participate in a convention where we sang on stage and acted in a play from the Bible. It was nice. I was never in the choir.”

Q: You didn’t like Church.

Freddy Will: “I wouldn’t say that. I wasn’t in the groups. I could sit in the audience. The Church in Bo was the best of them. They let me attend or participate in group meetings. I wasn’t a full-fledged member, but I affiliated. As I said, that one time when they had that big convention when all the other Churches met in Bo, and they sent singing groups to represent them, my Church let me participate. I was the kid who hung around watching. During those years, it was all about me wishing and hoping.”

Q: How did you learn how to compose music?

Freddy Will: “I taught myself. I was already rapping before moving to Sierra Leone. I hung around the youth meetings and choir at the new Church, watching them practice. Then I studied the formats in hymn books. I’d ask the guitar or piano player to show me a thing or two every chance I got. Then I’d beatbox the rest. I created the music in my mind. Once my friends put me onto Gangsta rap, I started lip-syncing over instrumentals. As time went on, I started to hear songs in my mind. Randomly, a new song would come to me.”

Q: Who writes and composes your songs?

Freddy Will: “I wasn’t kidding when I said I never fit in anywhere. Okay, maybe I exaggerated a tiny bit. But no, I didn’t get the mentor or the protégé. Most times, when someone showed, they were there to defeat me. I had to write my lyrics. A beatmaker or producer would back me up on the production end. The song comes to my mind, and I’d beatbox the rhythm to myself while writing the lyrics. Then I’d find a producer and hint at a rhythm for the song. Then they’d hit me with whatever they’ve got.”

Q: Take us through your creative process.

Freddy Will: “I watched the choir practice. I’d studied the lyrics in hymn books. Then I taught myself to use the same format. On the rapping side, I learned how to lip sync a few popular songs like ‘Around the Way Girl’ by L. L. Cool J, ‘OPP’ by Naughty by Nature, ‘Down with The King’ by RUN DMC, and ‘Lord Knows’ by Tupac Shakur. Once I could freestyle the lip-synced lyrics, I started to rap them over their instrumental. Shortly after that, I made up my raps and spat them to the instrumental with the hook.

This was between the early to mid-90s. By the mid to late 90s, I was writing lyrics. Now the music comes to me like a download. I hear the song (in my mind) and replicate it. Sometimes I produce it exactly, and other times it turns out differently. Perhaps I was sleeping and dreaming when a song came, and I wrote it down and made a reference recording. Or, I’d listened to a beat, and the song came instantly. At the very least, I’d have written the lyrics if I couldn’t remember the melody or the rhythm.

The chorus or the hook comes first, then the verses. Depending on the producer or engineer, the song could be whatever. With an excellent producer, I’d hint at a drumline, harmony, or baseline, and he’ll take it from there. A beat-making producer might already have a beat where I’d match my hook and verses to his rhythm and adjust. Then I’d take that to the studio. It all depends on the situation. I can rap to any beat and do several genres. It’s a typical format that most artists use to create songs.”

Q: Does that explain the crossover claim you make?

Freddy Will: “The crossover is between two or more genres on the same song. I’d go with Funk, Soul, R&B, Gospel, Reggae, Calypso, Soca, Africana, Classical, Dancehall, Rock, or Country music. Africana music splits into branches like Sukus, Gumbay, Zouk, and Afrobeat. When you bring all that to Hip Hop, you end up with the Afropolitan sound. It’s crossover. That’s like what Afrobeat is in some cases. It’s a work in progress. I’m still looking to make that perfect crossover but blending genres is it.

As I’ve said earlier, the songs come to my mind. I could be cleaning the kitchen, walking, or sleeping. The rhythm comes, I beatbox it, then the rap lyrics start to flow. I’d have a new song if I could find a pen and pad quick enough to write it down and a recorder to freestyle a reference recording. Later, I’ll rewrite and edit it. On the production side, I’d either make the beat or choose a beatmaker’s beat. When everything felt right, I’d go to a studio and record what I’d been working on the last few weeks or so.”

Q: Can you name six of your crossover songs?

Freddy Will: “Yes. ‘City Boy,’ ‘Maria,’ ‘Providence,’ ‘Girl from Happy Hill,’ ‘Pickin,’ and ‘While I’m Still Young.’ I started making crossovers when it was unpopular. People used to criticize it. When I first recorded ‘City Boy,’ many people didn’t get it. The term is a popular slogan now; everyone’s making some crossover. It became a trend years later. I’m not saying they got it from me. I’m saying I was heading in the right direction with that.”

Q: Nice! Tell the fans about your first release.

Freddy Will: “’Stay True.’ We released it off of an independent label in Toronto. I said we because I was with a music producer and his team. It had been almost a decade since I’d rapped or performed professionally. A stroke of luck found me out there, recording my debut album. It was like a dream. He was the producer. I loved his sound. It was perfect for my style. That’s when we recorded ‘Animal,’ ‘So Hard,’ ‘Somebody…’”

Q: We’ve seen rappers who freestyle a song instantly. They have such an intense work ethic that they can write and record several pieces in one go. Are you one of them?

Freddy Will: “I’ve written and recorded two to three songs on the same day and performed them on the same night. I’ve created dope pieces that way. Lately, I don’t prefer that method anymore. As I said, songs come to me. Someone can invite me to a studio, an engineer plays a beat, and they ask me to get in the booth. I would. Typically, the message will not be positive when I spit off the top of my head or write a song within minutes in the studio. That’s where you’d hear all sorts of profanities and shit.

Once I’m peer-pressured to make a quick song, the lyrics go in the stereotypical direction. You’ll get the streets – being inebriated, debauchery, wealthy, or violent situations. When I take my time to write, I’m more thought-provoking. I prefer working on a song for a few days or weeks before recording it. Once we record, that’s it. Once we release it, that’s it. I get songs, write them, and record them at the studio. I could bring two or three to a session and record them simultaneously.” …TO BE CONTINUED.

www.freddywill.com/music

Related Topics:Entertainment Featured inspiration journey Music news trending

Up Next

Canada-Based Underground Rapper Dead Hendrix Takes It to the Next Level With “Mustang,” a Collaborative Project Featuring Yungcudii

Don't Miss

Judd Harris’s ‘The Beach EP’ | A Soulful Sonic Escape to Tropical Shores

Popular Hustle Staff

This article contains branded content provided by a third party. The views expressed in this article are solely those of the content creator or sponsor and do not necessarily reflect the opinions or editorial stance of Popular Hustle.

Entertainment

Marloma Talks Learning to Stop Writing in Isolation and Trust the Chaos

Published

4 days ago

January 6, 2026

Popular Hustle

Marloma used to write alone. Locked away with a piano or guitar, wouldn’t present anything until it met exacting standards, followed strict release timelines and marketing strategies. Everything controlled, everything polished before anyone else could hear it. Then came John Curtis-Sanchez, a guitarist and audio engineer whose approach is the complete opposite. He tries everything, isn’t afraid of vulnerability or imperfection in the early stages, lets happy accidents happen before worrying about polish.

It shifted everything. The songs she wrote still came from that place of isolation and perfectionism, but John’s production approach brought something different to the arrangements. Happy accidents in the studio, experimental choices she wouldn’t have made alone. Her songwriting instincts combined with his production sensibility created something neither could have done separately.

That’s essentially the story of Marloma, the Phoenix-based Sad Girl Indie-Pop Rock band that’s gone from a bedroom project to a full collaborative force involving 100 local creatives on their upcoming concept EP. With over 30k+ Instagram followers and a growing reputation across Arizona venues like The Marquee and Crescent Ballroom, Marloma isn’t just one person anymore. The band now includes guitarist and producer John Curtis-Sanchez, bassist and vocalist Kalleigh Gibson, keys player and backup singer Cassidy Brooke, and drummer Angelita Mia Ponce. Together, they’re making music for young women who feel too much and need to hear they’re not alone in it.

MARLOMA / JANUARY (credit: Andrew Barahona)

You’ve written nearly 300 songs. Take us back to the specific moment when you knew this was what you were going to do.

I have always known I loved writing songs and singing, but the pivotal moment in my life where I decided it was worth pursuing as a career path was when I was 14 years old. My friend of the same age was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer and tragically passed away.

It happened so fast, I still feel completely devastated that she is no longer here to make me laugh. I tried to process my grief the way I process all of my feelings, through songwriting. My mom heard me playing the tribute I wrote and asked to share it.

When my friend’s mom heard it, she asked me to perform it at my friend’s celebration of life. I remember feeling the weight in the air as I walked up to the front and began singing her song. It felt like the one moment that wasn’t absolutely dreadful because I felt that I truly made a connection. Not just with every attendee, but with her.

I was thanking her and making a promise to keep her memory alive and in that moment I kind of really felt like she understood. I don’t know what I believe in terms of anything spiritual but I know what I felt in that moment.

So I decided that even if I wasn’t a doctor or a lawyer, creating art was an important job and I wanted to be one of the people to do it. In fact, the reason that the Marloma brand is so heavily associated with the color green is to honor her. Green is her favorite color and the color of her eyes, which I liked to call her “emerald eyes.”

If someone’s never heard your music before, how would you describe what you do and what you hope they take from it?

I would describe my music as “Sad Girl Indie-Pop Rock” because it comes from a place of deep vulnerability and I think women might resonate with it the most. I truly hope that when people listen to my music they feel validated in any harsh emotions they may try to hide. I want them to really feel the words, which is why I implement prosody in my music. Essentially, I make the melodies match any words that could describe a melody. For example, if I say the word “high” I would make the melody go higher in pitch so that it subconsciously resonates with the listener.

Walk us through how you actually create. Where does it happen? What does the process look like from the first spark to the finished product?

For me, melody lines and lyrics have always come at the same time so I never have to worry about adding music to my lyrics or vice versa in post. Most times I’m home alone and I begin to play a chord progression on an instrument like a piano or guitar. Then, the rhythms and rhymes just kind of happen. Although lately inspiration has been striking me in the car. I have a complete library of single lyrics sung in my voice memos app accompanied by the sound of wind whooshing past my car windows and grainy noise from the air conditioner.

I have to capture it in the moment so I can mold and shape the idea when I’m home in front of my instruments. I never sit down with an idea or situation or feeling in mind when I write a song. In fact, I rarely am aware enough to understand what’s going on in my own head until I listen back to my completed song. That’s when I understand what feelings and tones I’ve been hiding from myself. Songwriting is truly therapeutic.

What’s something you had to figure out the hard way?

I had to learn that some people just aren’t going to take me seriously because I’m a woman in the music industry. And as a matter of fact, if they do, I probably have to earn that respect by doing twice as much as they’d expect. Talent won’t really get you anywhere if you’re not also constantly working on building your audience, honing your skills, educating yourself and making sacrifices. I’m happy to do all of those things, but it does feel like I’m often underestimated regardless.

What are you working on right now that you’re excited about?

I just released my heaviest rock song to date on January 1st, called “Win.” This song serves as the embodiment of female rage and revenge fantasy, so I’m very excited about the music video that’s in its final stages to accompany this song. I really put my trauma on display in this video and it was honestly pretty hard to film and relive but I couldn’t be more proud of how it turned out and the message it gets across. I won’t say too much on the plot but I will say that it is the darkest visual story I’ve ever experimented with and the thesis is that our vulnerability connects and empowers us as women.

The band is also working on a concept EP that’s been in development for five years, a cautionary tale about addiction wrapped in a love letter to Arizona’s creative community. It involves animated music videos, character vocalists, extended comic book lore, and a release show that’ll include instrument raffles and theatrical elements. It’s the kind of project that takes 100 local creatives to pull off, and it’s all building toward a show that’ll rival anything Marloma’s done before.

What started as writing alone in a room, perfecting every detail before anyone could hear it, has turned into something bigger than one person could have created. Each band member brings something different. John’s Punk-Rock guitar, Kalleigh’s Country-influenced bass lines, Angelita’s Latin and R&B drumming, all mixing with alternative-pop sensibility into something that doesn’t fit neatly into any single genre. It’s a “total genre melting pot,” and it works. It’s what happens when you stop trying to control everything and let other people’s strengths shape the sound. The songs that come out of that process, the ones with the happy accidents left in, those are the ones that end up connecting.

Marloma’s music is available on Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, and SoundCloud. For more information, visit marloma.org and follow the band on Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook. Upcoming show dates are available on Bandsintown.

Entertainment

Zizzo World Is Building Momentum That’s Hard to Ignore

Published

2 weeks ago

December 29, 2025

Popular Hustle

Most producers spend years chasing one big break. Sergiu Cociorva, the Moldova-born artist behind Zizzo World, is watching several arrive at once. After years of grinding in bedroom studios from New York to London, the pieces are finally clicking into place in ways that suggest he’s not just having a moment, he’s building momentum.

The numbers tell part of the story. Support from Tiësto, David Guetta, and Calvin Harris. Second place in Spinnup’s Dance Banger competition, judged by Topic. “Roller coaster” hitting No.4 on Spotify’s Top 50 in Latvia. But what makes Zizzo World interesting right now isn’t just the wins, it’s that he’s leveraging them into something bigger. He’s running two labels (One Mood Music and Enjoy Record), producing for other artists, and still pushing his own sound in new directions.

Case in point: “Body Moving,” his new Afro House track with EARTH VOX LABEL, which dropped November 28. It’s a 2:46 blend of afro rhythms and deep grooves that shows a producer confident enough to step outside his EDM and pop-house comfort zone. The move’s paying off. Blogs and curators are responding positively, and more importantly, it’s opening doors. He’s got a February release coming through Sundle Records via Warner Music Italy, with at least five more releases planned for 2026 and his first full album in the works.

'Body Moving' by Zizzo World — ‘Body Moving’ by Zizzo World

This didn’t happen overnight. Zizzo World picked up an accordion at 4, smashed countless brooms pretending they were guitars, played in a college band called Broken Paddle, and started producing in Logic Pro after moving to New York in 2008. Since then, it’s been almost daily work in whatever studio space he could carve out. These days that’s a bedroom setup in London, where he’ll sometimes wake up at 2 AM because inspiration doesn’t keep office hours.

What stands out is how realistic he is about the process. He’s upfront about managing expectations, trusting the grind, and understanding that teams can fall apart if people don’t believe in the timeline. He stopped singing before COVID to focus on production, a practical choice that freed him up to build the infrastructure he needed. Now he’s got two labels, artists he’s working with under both imprints, and enough momentum to start thinking bigger.

The music itself pulls from everywhere he’s been. Moldova, New York, London, all the collaborations with different artists and personalities along the way. He’s not chasing perfection, he’s chasing sincerity, trying to add value with each release. It’s working because it feels genuine rather than calculated.

His goal goes beyond streams or chart positions. He wants to create spaces where people connect, whether that’s with themselves or with each other. It’s ambitious, but he’s got the work ethic to back it up. Five releases next year, the first album, ongoing projects for artists under his two labels, he’s treating 2026 like someone who’s done the work and is ready to capitalize on it. With the infrastructure in place and the momentum already rolling, Zizzo World isn’t hoping for breaks anymore. He’s making them happen.

Connecrt with Zizzo World via Facebook, YouTube, Spotify, Apple Music, Instagram, TikTok, X, and SoundCloud.

Entertainment

Nodust Writes His Lyrics Last and That’s Exactly the Point

Published

1 month ago

December 6, 2025

Popular Hustle Staff

There’s a moment in Nodust’s creative process where nothing makes sense, and that’s by design. Before a single coherent word hits the track, he’s in front of his mic spitting pure nonsense, syllables that mean nothing but feel like everything. It sounds absurd until you realize it might be the most honest approach to making rap music in 2025.

The artist has built his entire workflow around what he casually calls “gibberish.” He loads a beat into FL Studio, throws on his baseline vocal preset, and starts recording sounds that aren’t words. At this stage, he’s not writing. He’s hunting for something more primal: the melody, the emotional peaks, the places where a vocal effect might hit harder. The lyrics come later, reverse-engineered from the shapes his voice already made.

“I literally spit gibberish in the mic,” Nodust explains. “At this point I’m just trying to create the melody and find key points for vocal emphasis and effects, then I listen back and I write lyrics to the gibberish.”

It’s a technique that flips traditional songwriting on its head. Most rappers start with bars, with meaning, with something to say. Nodust starts with feeling, trusting that the right words will eventually find their way into the spaces his instincts already carved out. The approach raises a question worth asking: in an era where melodic rap dominates, does what you say matter less than how it sounds when you say it?

The answer, if you’ve been paying attention to artists like Nettspend, esdeekid, and Xaviersobased, seems to be yes. These are the names Nodust cites when talking about discovering what he calls “ultra technical flows that have never been done before.” Not technical in the traditional sense of dense wordplay or complex rhyme schemes, but technical in the architecture of sound itself. The way a syllable bends. The precise moment a voice cracks into something vulnerable. The texture of a phrase that might not parse grammatically but hits you somewhere beneath language.

Nodust came up through the emoplugg scene, drawing heavy inspiration from artists like D1v, Bladee, and his best friend Kill Red. That foundation taught him something crucial about emotional resonance. He describes certain songs as being “like drugs,” and he’s not using the comparison loosely. “I swear they put drugs in those songs,” he says of D1v’s “Sound of Silence” and Kill Red’s “Notice.” “I’ve had full days of only listening to those songs on repeat all day. Like 8 hours straight.”

That obsessive relationship with music, which he attributes partly to his ADHD, informs everything about how he creates. When he found himself drawn to the trap and jerk beats that exploded over the past year, he noticed a gap. Nobody was bringing that emoplugg melodic sensibility to the new sound. The result was tracks like Clairvoyance with producer 999ines, a song that made him feel, for the first time, like he might actually have a shot at making it.

What makes Nodust’s situation unique is that he’s doing all of it alone. Writing, recording, mixing, mastering, cover art, video editing. There’s no team parsing his gibberish recordings into polished product. It’s just him, often for 14 hours straight, because stopping means the song might never get finished. “If I don’t finish it in one go it’ll never get finished,” he admits.

His latest release Numbers, which dropped November 28, continues the formula: massive bass, signature cadence, vocals that prioritize vibe over verbose. It’s music that doesn’t ask you to think. It asks you to feel.

The self-sufficiency extends to his visuals, with videos like M.I.A., Zoot, and Geeked shot by his girlfriend SuziWithAnUzi, who’s established herself in the Toronto scene and serves as both collaborator and proof of concept that this path can actually work.

Nodust is quick to credit the people around him, including producers like Sheepy, his longtime collaborator c0ll!e, and his mom, who genuinely gets pissed if he drops something without sending it to her first. But the creative core remains solitary, almost meditative. He describes making music as “the only time I can actually be in the moment and I’m not worrying about the past or the future.”

There’s something worth noting about an artist who builds songs from meaningless sounds and considers that the most genuine part of the process. In an industry obsessed with authenticity, Nodust has found his by abandoning meaning entirely at the start. The words come last because the words aren’t the point. The point is that high, that feeling, that moment when a syllable lands exactly right even if nobody, including the person who made it, could tell you what it means.

Maybe that’s where rap is heading. Maybe it’s always been there, and we’re just now getting honest about it.

With Toronto shows planned throughout the year, you can keep up with Nodust on Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, X, Soundcloud, and Apple Music.