L: How did you get into music? D: I grew up on Motown and that's obviously a predecessor to the whole hip hop ideal. And once hip hop started really coming out as a major music genre when I was growing up, that always bonded with me. I was like, there's something that I don't need to rely on other people to do. I already enjoyed rhyming words and nding patterns. And I always was drawn to that. It was relatively just natural for me to slide into that. L: So then you started rapping. D: I was not very good at rst, but I did seek out mentors like F. Stokes, a Madison rapper who grew really large. Once I got to high school, I was like, well, you know, is there anyone else like me that ever made it that's from Madison, anyone that's from at least Wisconsin or the Midwest? And I stumbled upon him after research. I tried to contact him and actually got back to me. We formed a relationship and he would give me critiques and advice on music and what not. I ended up getting hooked up with Bushwick Bill from the ghetto boys before he passed.I did a spoken word for him and he took a liking to me. The second time I met him, he was there and I just pulled him aside and I was like, “hey, would you mind if I did this spoken word for you? You could give me some critiques or something about it or whatnot.” And he was like, “Yeah, sure.” And so I did it for him. And people were like, swarming at him like, “oh, my God, it's Bushwick Bill!”Then I kept going and he gave me little critiques and whatnot. From that day forward, he gave me a lot of advice and information about word selection. He was very genius. He knew the origins of words...he could give you the history and the development of them.” L: Tell me about coming back to Madison from Texas. D: I saw an actual healthy hip hop community (in Texas). When I ultimately was forced to come back up here, it was kind of like the depression happened to come back like, man, this was that scene that was so restrictive, so soul crushing- people just tearing each other down to try to get one ounce of anything. So I had been bugging my friend who ran open mics up here for forever to let me do any sort of show. Their Tuesday nights were doing so bad and they were in the red so terribly that they would be shutting down at like 9 or 10 p.m. So he was like, “Here, Derek, do whatever the heck you want with it...that's your only chance. So I have this idea that was based o of this event that we had down there in Austin, where essentially it was a showcase and an open mic, so there were artists that were featured on the bill. Then the rest of the night was open mic slots. The hook about it was if you come and you get it right on an open mic set, then I'll book you for one of the future featured sets. And what that did is forced everyone to have to support each other. So it organically forced people to have to work together and it also organically made it grow that way. And it became a staple. L: Wow! D: I was there to actually fundamentally shift the narrative of hip hop in Madison. So once people saw, once bar owners and stu saw that the show was hopping on a Tuesday night at a place that was in the red every Tuesday before and there was no violence happening then it started opening up the opportunity for other hip hop promoters in Madison, and it was no longer monopolized. That show ended and I became part of a collective called Artists Collective for shows. And we got a lot more locations, sat down and turned a lot more people into promoters. And then I sat back for a while.
L: How have you seen your industry and community be impacted and shaped by the Black Lives Matter movement? D: My initial reaction to everything happening was a bundle of emotions. The events that happened made me really sad.I thought about this stu and have been in tears because, like, these are the people I care about. They're my family. Buddha (Big Daddy Earl) is not just my label. Like, our families have dinner together. He's my daughter's godfather. His children look at me like I'm an uncle or something. And I have godchildren, they're black. All these events like they hurt. It's also really beautiful seeing that the black community as a happened in a very long time. And that makes me happy and sad that it takes what has happened in order for that. So there's a lot of sadness, there's a lot of pain, and there's also kind of that bright light at the end of the tunnel because people are actually talking about these issues. Derek John’s newest single “Ooooweee” (feat. Haddi Kamara and IRI) was released on August 5th and can be found on YouTube, Apple Music, and Spotify. Watch for his album“I’m Daddy Now” to drop at the end of 2020. “ I was there to actually political topic is coming to the forefront in a way that has not fundamentally shift the narrative of hip hop in Madison.
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