Interview: Ezra Collective is Ready to Take on the World

Story originally published on GoodMusicAllDay. Read here.

It’s day two of South by South West and the Austin streets are about as packed with people as the sky is with the clouds covering the impending sunset. Visitors scramble to Airbnbs and hotels for naps before the evening’s concerts. Bands trudge along sidewalks dragging amps and instruments. As they pack in tour buses, others unload into venues across town.

At the Main II on Red River Street, a breeze of London jazz is flowing for the “Jazz re:freshed Outer National” showcase. While Moses Boyd sound checks and Nubya Garcia follows, the backbone of Ezra Collective, brothers Femi and TJ Koleoso, stand off to the side and watch. Referred to locally as “the chosen ones’,” Ezra Collective mixes jazz with contrasting styles such as afro-beat, reggae and hip-hop. Their experimentation has helped define the jazz invasion occurring across the pond.

Femi plays drums and TJ is on bass. The rest of the group, now out exploring Austin, consists of Joe Armon Jones on piano, Dylan Jones on trumpet, and James Mollison on tenor saxophone.

Tonight will be Ezra Collective’s first performance in the United States and they’re first opportunity to play in front of a SXSW crowd that’s usually ridden with music industry folk.

For Femi, it’ll be just another show.

“People been asking, ‘are you going to change your approach since it’s South By?’ a lot of industry cats,” he says. “I’m like nah, whether you work for Sony or Atlantic or Warner, you still like being happy and dancing.”

The brothers head for the venue’s back courtyard and sit down on a bench that gives way to a view of Austin’s growing skyline. Over drowned out jazz horns from inside, they explain how Ezra Collective’s music lends itself to jazz appreciation in the modern era.

Femi says they study not only greats before them like Sonny Rollins and Felt Kuti, but also jazz and hip-hop forces of today such as Robert Glasper, Kendrick Lamar, Giggs and Skepta.

The name Ezra Collective embodies the group’s musical philosophy, TJ says. He explains how they’re named after the biblical prophet Ezra who made wisdom of the past relevant in the present by teaching it through relatable elements. Femi decided Ezra was a fitting symbol for the group since they blend an legacy art form, jazz, with the genres the group and their peers grew up listening to.

“We have this melting pot of all these different influences,” Femi says. “You need an openness to letting them all come out, I think jazz music allows for that.”

Femi and TJ agree that London naturally breeds their style.

“London is one of the most multicultural places in the world,” TJ says. “When people say, ‘oh you got a mix of that a mix of this,’ yeah cool, we grew up on that, we just learned to play it with jazz.”

Femi and TJ first picked up the drums and bass in church, giving them a gospel foundation that they only wanted to expand upon. They started studying other genres and Femi fell in love with jazz after reading his favorite musicians quoting jazz drummers in interview after interview. TJ didn’t appreciate the music coming out of his brother’s room until he started to play it.

“As soon as I started playing jazz, I fell in love because I realized it was about how well I could get my message across with my instrument,” says TJ. “It’s so authentic and it’s so you.”

“I love that jazz music is one of the genres where people like Sun Ra, Yusuf Lateef, Louie Armstrong and Nina Simone are all doing the same genre,” Femi adds. “I love the freedom that the word jazz music can give.”

The brothers honed their jazz skill at Tomorrow’s Warriors, a London jazz development organization for teenagers of ethnic minorities. There they would meet the rest of what became Ezra Collective in 2012.

o put themselves in a position to tour the world playing jazz, Femi says it was important Ezra Collective stayed true to their roots.

“The moment we try to sound like Americans, that’s the end of everything because no one can be better at being an American than an American,” Femi says. “People in London recognize us as sounding and looking like London.”

For Femi and TJ, preserving that London feel also means not changing their fashion from the streets to the stage, even if past etiquette called for suits and tuxedos.

“Oh, I wear suits,” TJ says.

“A tracksuit,” the brothers say simultaneously and laugh before realizing they’re wearing the same Nike sweatsuit but in different colors.

“I think it might be weird if Wynton Marsalis turned up in what I’m wearing right now,” Femi says. “If I’m going to be honest with the sounds I’m making, the music I’m playing, how I look has to be honest. This is what we wear in London. This is me.”

London hasn’t only been an influence for their success, it’s also been a resource. Once Ezra Collective solidified as a group and started to carve out its sound at Tomorrow’s Warriors, they were introduced to their community through organizations like Jazz re:freshed and British Underground.

Jazz re:freshed is London’s leading alternative jazz label that gained its clout by putting on weekly live music events in Notting Hill. The brother’s appreciation for the organization manifests when our interview is interrupted by Jazz refreshed Co-chief Executive, Adam Moses who is filming with a camcorder.

“That’s mister. jazz refreshed himself!” Femi screams. “He’s a hero of ours.”

“Big ups!” TJ adds.

The brothers say Ezra Collective benefited from London’s vast ecosystem of online music broadcast companies like NTS and Boiler Room. They also credited American artists like Kendrick Lamar and Kamasi Washington for redefining people’s preconceptions about jazz. Femi says they helped open the floodgates for wider Jazz acceptance and hopes this will translate to Ezra Collective fans around the world.

“I want people in Asia screaming about this, in Africa, let it be a South American ting too,” he says. “Let everyone know the magic that happens in London.”

Worldwide recognition and a Giggs feature are among the goals for Ezra Collective. For any of that to happen, though, Femi says maintaining the group’s chemistry is top priority.

“As bandleader, I’ve got to keep people happy, keep us together, keep making memories, he says. “If we’re friends first, then the features, the albums, the tours, the gigs…all of that will take care of itself.”

Audio Story: Camp West Campus

Hear about Camp West Campus, a one-day music festival at Zeta Psi that brings some noise to a normally quiet West Campus during SXSW. The event is for students, by students, and works for a larger benefit. All proceeds are donating to the RAINN foundation, the nation’s leading anti-sexual violence organization. 

SXSW Speaks: The Marías

If you haven’t heard the “The Marías”, do start with “I Don’t Know You” the first cut off their debut EP, SuperClean Vol. 1. Restrained guitar and bass patterns jump in and out of downbeat drums, drowning you with emotion as you hear the complexities and confusions of lead singer Marías love for the band’s drummer, Josh Conway. It sets the tone for The Marias sound, an alternative, Latin rendition of bedroom soul-pop, and their complexion, a band formed around María and Conway’s relationship. In the midst of a stuffed SXSW, Josh and María caught up with GoodMusicAllDay to tell the story of how they met, what their ideal headlining concert would look like, and what’s next for The Marías.

East Austin’s Music Scene Evolves to Face Realities of Gentrification

Music permeates the night air on the corner of East 6th and Onion in East Austin. Drowned out hip-hop beats and punk guitar riffs flow out of Volstead Lounge and Hotel Vegas. Yuppies wearing vintage band tee-shirts stream in and out of bars. It’s the epicenter of a vibrant East Austin music scene that locals aren’t saying is better now than it was before gentrification.  

“I don't think you can put it like that, better now or better before,” Austin blues guitarist Matthew Robinson said sitting in the backyard of Dozen Street bar in East Austin. “I’d say its evolved, each section of it.”

Robinson had just performed in Dozen Street’s Monday night blues jam, reminding him of what East Austin used to feel like when he grew up there in the 1960s and 70s.

“The streets out here were smoking, every night was like a parade,” he said. “You had blues, soul, jazz, scientists, poets, everything. It’s a little bit like that at Dozen Street now. You never know what you’re going to get here.”

The lively east side Robinson remembers was energized by the Chitlin Circuit, an initiative that brought iconic music acts from B.B. King to Sam Cooke to East Austin on a tour through America’s segregated cities. Locals and venue owners believe East Austin is again a dynamic place to play and see live music, but its gentrified roots have shifted the scene away from natives and closer to East Austin’s new residents.

“There weren't music venues on the east side before gentrification,” said one venue owner, Topaz McGarrigle. “Gentrification, if anything, brought live music back to East Austin.”

McGarrigle and his mother, Eileen Bristol, own and operate Sahara Lounge, an eclectic East Austin music lounge that is described by locals as “the way Austin used to be” on its website.

What exactly East Austin “used to be” depends on who you talk to, but it’s a image U.T. Musicology Professor Charles Carson feels other new music venues in town are leveraging to promote business.

“What we’re getting in East Austin is like a theme park,” he said. “They kind of fixated on the weirdness and now they’re using that to curate their bars to people who can afford a $14 drink, but are a whole different demographic than those who created the scene.”

Carson believes this has shifted genre as well. “The venues and bars that are opening are shifting towards a whiter audience. More indie pop, less soul,” he said.

Harold McMillan also criticized clubs in East Austin. He said they could place more effort on honoring the historical neighborhood but saw the shift in genre as a symptom of the new East Austin. McMillan is the owner and director of Diverse Arts, an arts organization that works to promote, celebrate, and preserve art from African-American culture in Austin.

McMillan did acknowledge that gentrification has allowed East Austin to accommodate venues such as Dozen Street and Sahara Lounge that do honor and attract the neighborhood’s native music community.

“Dozen Street is one of the coolest things that happens in East Austin,” McMillan said. “They’ve managed to grow some community around musicians and locals, a little microcosm of what the neighborhood still has.”

Dozen Street also hosts “Butter and Jam” on Wednesdays, an open mic soul music jam. Jon Deas is on the keyboard every week. Even if the community around him is changing with each show, he finds unity getting the chance to play music every week.

“I can’t speak for the older guys who used to play blues down here,” he said. “But we’re here to just hang, jam, and share our art and talent with the community, no matter who it may be.”

McMillan stressed the importance of the rest of East Austin diversifying its arts programming as Dozen Street does.

“Regardless of who lives here, we need to continue to do programming that honors the African American past of this community,” he said. “People need to be reminded of where they are because the past of this community isn’t going anywhere.”

Although McMillan acknowledged there is work to do, East Austin has shown its focused on preserving its history. In 1998, the historic Victory Grill was added to the National Register of Historic Places, in large part because of the efforts of Eva Lindsey. The club is open today, but only on a part-time basis and has to be booked special events.

Lindsey’s father worked at Victory Grill as an electrician and Lindsey took over management of the Victory Grill in the 90s. Preservation offers her closure with the reality that East Austin’s past is far in the rearview now.

“I think those days are behind us,” she said. “That’s why I’m really glad I saved the Victory Grill, for me saving is all we can do.”

Review: Zigaboo's Modeliste Funk Revue in Austin

A white DW drum set announced Zigaboo Modeliste’s presence before he even sat down to play.

It was a Saturday night at Antone’s Nightclub in downtown Austin and Zigaboo’s openers, The Breed Brass Band, were on stage. Their drummer stood in the back with a snare drum attached to his neck, a crash cymbal to his right, and a bandmate playing the standup bass drum to his left. A spotlight shined, but not over them. It remained on that white DW drum set.

The set's emphasis even during the opening set suggested a clear purpose to the evening. This was a night to celebrate Zigaboo Modeliste, the legendary drummer of the genre-defining funk band, The Meters. James Brown may have been funk’s president, but Zigaboo was funk drumming’s architect. Even if you’re unfamiliar with The Meters, you’ve probably heard Zigaboo’s drum grooves. He’s been sampled by the likes of a Tribe Called Quest, NWA, and Public Enemy. His avant-garde, off-beat lick on “Cissy Strut” is considered one of the most influential drum patterns ever. It cemented Zigaboo’s new style of drumming, second line syncopated funk, as the backbone of funk music.

Zigaboo mastered the technique growing up in New Orleans. Second line was a traditional style of snare drumming that musicians played in funeral parades in the city. Zigaboo added flavor by adding syncopation; the use of multiple rhythms that are offbeat on their own, but form a groove when combined.

Zigaboo brought this style to The Meters before they disbanded in the late 70s. From Betty Harris to Paul McCartney, Zigaboo would go on to drum for countless iconic artists. Tonight he would be playing with the funk collective he formed in the late 90s, Zigaboo’s Funk Revue.

While much of the older crowd on hand grew up with funk, as a late 90s baby, I grew up with hip-hop. Throughout the show, I couldn't help but make connections between what I was seeing and hearing with what I grew up listening to. The first came as Zigaboo started “Cissy Strut” just two songs into the show. The song starts off with a relatively straightforward pattern carried by an offbeat exchange of kicks and snares that are intertwined by a 16th note hi hat pattern.

In an interview with Modern Drummer, Zigaboo explained the purpose of this simplicity. “I’ll stay at home’ and just play real simple until we (the band) decide, musically, that we’re ready to experiment together,” he said.

It’s akin to when a rapper feels out the beat to begin a freestyle, letting the rhythm build as they prepare a verse. When the rhythm coalesces to a tipping point, rappers break down the beat with rhyme; Zigaboo with drumsticks.

At 69, he played “Cissy Strut” with the same flavor and pizzazz that he brought to funk in the 60s and 70s. Improvisational and expressive, his limbs alternated rhythm as rappers alternate flow. The snare drum was almost his timekeeper as he stayed in the pocket on downbeats before going against the rhythm using offbeat kicks and punchy hits across the set.

From “Cissy Strut” the band moved into classics like “Cabbage Alley” and “Hey Pocky A-way” during which Zigaboo showcased that his greatest strength might be his modesty. He’s surely a sophisticated drummer, but where some drummers overplay to stimulate the listener, Zigaboo plays the bare minimum to achieve the same affect. There wasn’t a better example of this than “Hey Pocky A-Way.” Zigaboo started things off with a minute’s worth instrumental playing the song’s patented 3/2 kick and snare clave pattern. It was repetitive but not monotonous. It’s a sonic consistency that builds tension as a race car does when it revs its engine at the starting gate.

During “Funkify Your Life” and several other songs in the show, Zigaboo even sung while playing. The high notes he couldn't hit he exaggerated with high-pitched falsettos into the mic. At this point, drumming is such a deep un-conscious activity for Zigaboo, he’s able to be a real showman on stage. In between songs he told anecdotes about his career and reflected on the night being his first time back in Austin in nearly 40 years. After wrapping up “People Say” Zigaboo and his Funk Revue left the stage, but only momentarily, as he came back out minutes later for a 4-song encore. We wiggled our shoulders, swung our hips, and waved our arms to dance. The funk was alive.

Review: George Brainard’s Library Photo Exhibit Excavates the Roots of Austin Culture

The 11 Portrait by George Brainard show those who have made Austin so unique.

There’s a lot to take in at the new Austin Central Library. The 200,000 square-foot building is nearly 600 feet tall and has over 350,000 items to enjoy in one of its 589 seats. However, it only takes 11 portraits on the 6th floor by George Brainard to discover some of the cities most important and influential figures.

Austin Originals, Portraits of the People That Shape Our City explores the roots of Austin’s rich cultural history. Brainard is a sixth generation Texan whose images capture ordinary people and experiences in their most raw form; looking to excavate the soul in every moment and everything. In Portraits of the People That Shape Our City, Brainard adjusts his style to fit the task. Rather than extracting the extra from the ordinary, Brainard captures the humanity of the powerful. To do so he relies on his ability to frame subjects in their comfort zones. The images are so well done they seem underserved by their placement on the library’s sixth floor.

From 2013 to 2017, Brainard’s portraits of iconic locals were published in Austin Monthly for a photo-interview series called “The Things I’ve Learned.” In January they were installed at the library as part of FotoATX, a citywide photography festival that celebrated the work of local artists.

Instead of being placed in the library’s art gallery on the second floor,  they’re in the “Living Room” on the library’s 6th floor.

This specific location within the library isn’t too big of a hindrance to the exhibit’s success, however. The bigger issue is their presentation. The exhibit’s first two portraits hang on a small wall in the southwest corner of the room. A hallway separates these images from the rest that hang on the adjacent wall. The procession of these images, though, is fractured by wall indents to give way to a copy machine, a computer, and a library staff help desk. For an exhibit intended to reveal those “That Shape our City,” it should be presented cohesively. Instead, they’re placed in such a way that makes it tough to distinguish the images from cookie-cutter wall decor from afar.

Many library goers didn’t even see the images on the wall, while others simply walked by, paying more mind to their phones or getting to one of the other attractions the library offers. Those who did stop to look at the images could realize it was an installed exhibit by coming closer to read its label and wall text. This explains that Brainard is a famed local photographer who has had images featured in Rolling Stone, The New York Times, and more.

The first portrait adjacent to the wall text is also the most choreographed. It’s of Puerto Rican native Cynthia Lee Fontaine, one of Austin’s most famous drag queens. She poses formulaically with her hands on her hips. It’s Fontaine’s job to pose, though, and Brainard celebrated that.

His style more patently reveals itself a few portraits down. Musician Kevin Russell, A.K.A. “Shinyribs,” holds his arms out to the camera with open palms suggesting a stop in the action. Russell describes himself as a classic punk rocker who wears his emotion on his sleeve on stage but says he’s pretty inexpressive everywhere else. His portrait evokes that with ease.

The exhibit gains momentum with portraits of Armadillo World Headquarters founder Eddie Wilson and designer Mark English next. That is all but killed, however, by the adjacent library equipment separating the show from its final two portraits.

The penaultimate reaffirms the exhibit’s success. It’s of Richard Overton, the world’s oldest World War II veteran who has lived in Austin for over 69 years. Brainard captures him wearing a war veteran hat with a small grin and his hands in his pockets. It’s the look one makes when their success speaks so loudly words are no longer needed. The shot comes together with those before it to remind you just how diverse and unique Austin’s cultural roots are. With this, the exhibit sends a message that there really is no criteria for success in this town.

Although the location on the sixth floor is a little bewildering, the images belong in the Central Library. Brainard displays those who have shaped Austin’s culture in a building meant to cultivate minds that will do so in the future. He brings out the character in his subjects, allowing the portraits to capture the personality of the city. With this, one walks away with a closer connection to what makes this city so “weird.”

Austin Originals, Portraits of the People That Shape Our City will be on display until May

The Face Plant That Woke an Austin Bus

---

The Number 5 bus brings together students, shoppers, seniors and the blind, normally quietly. But on Sunday afternoon, one face plant got everyone talking.

“Oh shit!” the man yelled as he tripped onto the bus stopped at 45th and Guadalupe.

A ponytailed man in the back woke up. He had fallen asleep reading the book now in his lap. The woman next to him took out one of her headphones and looked up.

“I’m not normally a slip and fall guy,” the man said as he picked himself and his sunglasses off the ground. He placed them on his head, combing back his long thin curly hair, and reached in his pockets for change.

“I mean, I do slip every now and then I guess,” he continued.

“You alright?” the driver asked.

“Yeah, these boots have no god damn traction,” he muttered while paying the fare.

He was a stocky guy, probably in his 30’s, but it was hard to tell. A scruffy beard consumed much of his face.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s just these boots,” he said, eying the open seat next to me before introducing himself as Aaron.

“Feel free, man,” I said. Aaron sat down and started to explain why he was wearing boots at all. They used to be part of his uniform as a construction worker. He quit two months earlier because it was getting too cold for him to work outside.

“So, what are you up to now?” I asked.

“Eating pancakes, reading, and riding the bus,” Aaron replied.

I looked around. Previously everyone was lost looking at the outside world or that within their phones. Now many were listening to our conversation.

“I’m from Chicago, though, I should be used to the cold,” he continued.

“Chicago?” a passenger chimed in. “I’m from Chicago!” she said. “63rd and Chappel!”

“Me too!” another man said.

The Chicagoans proceeded to talk about the weather in their hometown, increasing rent prices, and the Bulls. Typical small talk seemed not to interest Aaron much.

He turned back towards me and reached for the stop request cord.

“I’m going to get off at the next stop,” he said.

I asked him where he was going. “Not sure, but I did want to give you something,” he replied.

“This is my favorite book ever,” he said while the Chicagoans were now talking about Obama. He dug into his backpack and took out a book with yellowed pages and a wrinkled green cover.

“It’s part of this series about a superhero named Flashman,” he explained. “This one is called ‘Flashman’s Lady.’”

 “Are you sure you want to give this to me?” I asked taken aback. “You should keep your favorite book.”

“Yes,” he said as the bus slowed to a stop in front of Northcross Mall. “I, Aaron, am giving you this book.”

He got up and told me that the book was about a fictional character in a real world. As he stepped off the bus, this time holding onto the door, I wondered if he was too.

Siblings and Austin Natives, The Bishops are Here to Stay

---

The Bishops played at Austin City Limits in 2017, a year after going as fans. They’re only getting started.

Growing up as the only girl in the Bishop family made Cara tough.

She’s just rolled the blunt being passed in the parking lot outside Music Lab, a rehearsal space in South Austin. Her brother Troy grabs it. “I’m not going to mention any names, but one time Cara may or may not have beat one of my older brothers in a fight,” he says. “It was a quick one too.”

“I stick up for myself a lot,” Cara giggles.

“She earned her stripes,” their brother Chris adds, sitting to Troy’s right. Neither he or his older brother Josh confirm or deny the claim, but Josh isn’t there to do so. That’s because he isn’t in The Bishops, the experimental hip-hop group his siblings started nearly three years ago.

Since then, they’ve become one of Austin’s most prominent and promising young bands. They’ve played more than 75 live shows in the city, including an appearance at Austin City Limits Music Festival this year.

That show was something the siblings had dreamt about since they were kids. Chris, 24, and Troy, 21, were born in Houston but moved to Austin before they were old enough to remember anywhere else as home. Cara is 19 and has lived in Austin her whole life.

Now they’re relaxing after finishing rehearsal for another show in their hometown coming up over the weekend. They were only able to practice four songs because of mixer malfunctions, but they don’t seem even slightly worried.

Troy can’t stop talking about yerba mate tea before doing a fake backflip for his Snapchat Story. He keeps repeating “Yerba Gang.” It seems he’s had a couple today. He and his siblings all have curly hair, but Troy has the longest fro. He’s been growing it out for over a year now.

Chris shows me a video of Troy trying to freestyle on his phone. Troy makes beats for the group but is starting to write verses and rap over songs like his brother Chris. They both can’t stop laughing at the video; Troy’s raw flow is amusing.

Cara sits off to the side and writes verses with a silver Sharpie on trace paper. She’s the group’s lead singer and likes to write her verses on unusual surfaces.

Being together brings out the siblings’ goofy sides. They can’t stop clowning on each other.

Their manager, Saaya Temori, is there too. She describes this energy as normal between them, calling it a product of love and creation.

“There’s some kind of magic in creating with the people you love, especially with your own blood,” she says.

The siblings first discovered it when Chris and Troy were in middle school and their dad brought home a used piano from a garage sale.

Troy didn’t know how to read music but had good enough feel that he could figure out how to play songs just from listening to them. The first he learned was “Crank That,” by Soulja Boy.

“That’s when I knew I was the shit,” he says before harmonizing the song’s classic chord progression. “I was a young Mozart,” he says. They all burst out laughing.

Using the production software FL Studio, or FruityLoops, Troy soon began making full length beats for Chris to rap over. They formed a duo called DailyDos but Chris didn’t think they were any good at first. “We were terrible,” he says. “But then Cara came.”

Photo Courtesy of Ceci Sariol (@cecisariol on Instagram

Cara had always liked singing, but her brothers didn’t realize how good she was until she joined them at the studio one day just before 16th birthday. She went in the booth cold and blew everyone away. “She started singing and everyone’s jaws were like wide open,” Troy recalls. “She shat on us.”

With Cara in the fold, they started making songs as a family and released them on the internet as The Bishops. They developed a style that couldn’t be described by a single genre.

“They’re as if Outkast and MGMT had a baby out in Houston and the god parent is Anderson .Paak,” Aaron Trizna says, a good friend and gigantic fan of the siblings.

Their debut single “Blood Ring,” released in December 2015, encapsulates their unique sound and family bond. Cara’s toughness from growing up with three brothers shine as she sings about not being afraid to fight because her family has her back. Chris raps about his story over a bouncy production from Troy.

“When you listen to “Blood Ring”, you can tell we’re a family,” Chris says as the blunt becomes a roach.

Just two months after coming out, “Blood Ring” climbed to #1 on Spotify’s United States Viral 50 playlist. It did so without The Bishops playing a single show outside of Texas.

The siblings feel they don’t have to move anywhere to continue making it big. This kind of mindset is challenged by many in the music industry, including Lauren Bruno, a talent buyer who’s has booked shows in Austin for eight years.

She sees Austin as a good place for artists to start, but not a place for them to flourish. “I don’t think there’s a big industry here,” she said. “It’s imperative for people to travel to places like LA and New York to shop their art.”

But The Bishops feel they’re walking proof that the internet allows any artist to flip this paradigm on its head. “Hell yeah — we got the internet,” Troy says when asked if they can make it in Austin.

Although the siblings hope to travel the world touring, they plan to be in Austin for the rest of their lives. “This is home no matter what,” Troy says.

They aren’t so worried about material gains from their music because they feel that’ll come naturally if they keep doing what they’re doing.

When asked about his next goal, Troy initially says he wants an autopilot Tesla, but Cara soon helps him change his mind.

“I just want to work together and become better than we are. Definitely stay together as a band,” Cara says. “That’s how you get the Tesla.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Chris responds. “I don’t even want a Tesla, but my car is ass right now.”

Press Fest ATX Showcases the Power of Zines

How zines bring diversity to the media industry.

Camille Simonelema believes a zine can be really anything, as long as it’s self-published. Camille is a co-founder of Free Rent ATX, the local Austin art collective behind Press Fest Austin at The Vortex on November 11th.

The event was an exhibition for independent publishers, zine makers, comics and more. With no single definition of what a zine can be, Camille said while drinking a Kombucha at the 2nd rendition of Press Fest Austin, the medium attracts a mixed bag of publishers.

“That’s the cool part of this community. There are literally all different kinds of people with different backgrounds and interests,” Simonelema said. “We all have one thing in common, though, and that’s loving to share our expression with others through self-publishing.”

Simonelema had the idea to start Press Fest Austin after the city lost its only other zine festival, Austin Zine Fest, in 2015. Her goal was to create an outlet for independent publishers in Austin so they could come together to meet other independent creators and celebrate their art.

On a gloomy Saturday afternoon, exhibitors traded Instagram handles, art, and love as they displayed their work over a soundtrack of Velvet Underground and Radiohead gently playing in the background.

Beth Comics was stationed across the Vortex’s brown rubble courtyard from POMEgranate Magazine, two exhibitors who were a microcosm of the wide range of minority communities represented at the event.

On Press Fest Austin’s website, Beth Comics is self-described as “super queer, super witchy, super horny comics” and POMEgranate Magazine as a feminist publication for “thoughtful and sensitive weirdos.”

Simonelema said she realized this kind of diversity is central to zine culture after attending Denver Zine Fest last year.

“The Denver Zine Fest was mostly queer comics and zines,” she said. “Going to that zine fest showed me that zine culture is for everyone, any person, from people of color to queer, to transgender, to straight.”

Tolerance and inclusion are not so prominent in the larger print and news industry, however. Minorities make up just over 12 percent of the newspaper workforce, according to a 2015 study by The American Society of News Editors. The census also showed that Women made up just 35 percent of newspaper staff in 2015, a percentage that hasn’t increased past 35 since the turn of the century.

This issue originates from the difficulties minority journalists face after graduating college. Minorities are 17 percentage points less likely than non-minorities to find a full-time journalism position within their year of graduation, according to a 2013 study by the University of Georgia.

Associate journalism Professor George Sylvie studies media diversity at the University of Texas at Austin. He diagnosed this discrepancy as a multifaceted issue but stressed embedded media racism, a lack of opportunities, and the meager entry-level salary of journalists as its main symptoms.

“People of color often don’t want to be journalists because journalist’s don’t get paid nearly as much as public school teachers or doctors,” he said. “Also, in this country, we still have substantial amounts of racism in various walks of life and that extends to media hiring.”

After being turned away by the industry, minorities have historically responded by building their own publications autonomously, Sylvie said.

“Minority press has gone back as far as the late 1800’s,” he said. “Freedom’s Journal and publications of that kind sprang up to give people of color a voice so they could cover issues that they were actually interested in.”

This history reflects the power and importance of independent publications such as zines in any media landscape. They play an important role in developing young writers’ voices so they can inform their community about important issues otherwise lost in the homogenous shuffle of mainstream media.

But how wide an audience can these independent publications really reach? Professor Sylvie questioned how much space if any, zines take up within a regular person’s daily news consumption routine.

“That’s part of the problem of zines and independent publications,” he said when asked about the reach of zines. “News is still dominated by mainstream publications because there’s still that notion for what news is that hasn’t changed,” he said.

While this highlights the small informing power of independent publications, Sylvie went on to discuss the important role zines still play in diversifying the news cycle.

“They are the ones mainly involved in civil rights areas of news,” he said. “They’re going to be the one that covers police brutality or they’re going to cover whether the poor neighborhood has good streets.”

This optimism for the importance of independent publications was shared by many on hand at Press Fest Austin who felt they play an important role in the media landscape.

“I like to think of zines as a platform for un-capitalized voices to reach wider audiences,” Jess Hogan, owner of Neither Nor Zine Distro, said behind her table at the event. “Instead of just staying in your journal, by self-publishing these people get noticed who would otherwise be left behind by history.”

With the potential demise of net neutrality looming, internet regulation is imminent. Although it’s tough to call this a win for media, it is possible that it could spark an even greater resurgence of zines and magazines. They could become one of the only platforms for independent publishers to write and share, and if that’s the case, those like the creators on hand at Press Fest Austin will transition from media outcast to media pioneers.

Interview: David Wexler Talks VR, Making 3D Visuals for Flying Lotus, The Weeknd & More

---

David Wexler of Strangeloop Studios gives us an in-depth look into life as one of the biggest concert visual artists in the world.

It was a strange sight. Not the usual mass congregation of hipsters wearing costumes. That was to be expected at a Flying Lotus concert in Austin on Halloween. People wearing costumes and 3D glasses to see live music, though? That was weird. Few concertgoers dancing during an electronic music show because they were so immersed in the background visuals? Even weirder. But this much is the norm at a concert with graphics made by Strangeloop Studios.

From partnerships with The Weeknd to Kendrick Lamar, Strangeloop is one of the leading concert visualist companies in the world. Their mind-bending visuals are created by David Wexler, the company’s founder, and creative director. David comes from a family of filmmakers and has been obsessed with manipulating visuals into video art since he was little.

Not a fan of “The Matrix” sequels, Wexler decided to make his own, combining his favorite moments from the 2nd and 3rd films into one that Wexler described to me as “far superior” when I met him prior to the Flying Lotus’ show last week.

Wexler brings this type of cinematic flair to the live concert arena. His application of narrative and concept represents a departure from the more decorative light shows that became common after the rapid rise of EDM called for more immersive concert experiences.

With each concert, Strangeloop continues to pioneer new standards for the art form. The Flying Lotus tour uses new technology from 3D Live to create an astonishing audio-visual experience. During each song, I felt like I was introspecting my own sub-conscious as I journeyed into that of FlyLo’s and Wexler’s. The visuals helped me achieve this by depicting abstract living elements and symbols of the human body being unwired and deconstructed. Each song existed in its own world with life forms conceived by beats in an atmosphere of melodies.

Flying Lotus’ silhouette occupied the bottom half of the screen, appearing to direct the experience as a conductor would his orchestra. In reality, the show is a collaborative effort. Although not visible to the crowd, David Wexler and visual artist John King A.KA. Timeboy are operating the visuals live, jamming with FlyLo using the video-mixing software Resolume as their instruments.

When I texted you asking to do this interview, a couple of days went by before you answered saying “Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I’ve been in VR for most of the past five days.” I couldn’t tell…were you joking?

No, I wasn’t. I spend a lot of time in VR.

What do you do in there?

I’ve been working on making concerts in VR. We’ve done Ash Koosha’s show, Tokimonsta’s show…There’s times I’ll be in VR for 5 hours straight.

When you say you’re doing these live shows in VR, what do you mean?

It’s a new kind of thing. We work with WaveVr to create VR shows. People can tune in from anywhere in the world. Basically, you can tune in and have an avatar with whom you see other people at the show. The musician can have an avatar, I can have an avatar.

It’s a shared experience. It’s like when you go to a real concert with a bunch of people, except they’re avatars. It opens up a ton of possibilities because you’re constructing these worlds from the ground up. Things you simply couldn’t do, or budget for at a real concert. You can have stages that are a mile high and it’s fascinating. You definitely can have a shared experience with people even if you’re in the same place as them physically.

It’s kind of an “Ah-ha moment when you actually experience it because it seems kind of out there otherwise. But we actually have the technology to do those things.

How has VR changed your art?

Basically, once VR arrived, I knew it was the medium I wanted to make audiovisual experiences for where I’m wielding the whole thing. Otherwise, I might make some music or visual shows for artists and that’s a collaborative thing. VR allows me to show more of my own audiovisual work.

We could talk VR for hours, but let’s get into Strangeloop. What was your original vision for it and has it become what you originally hoped it to be?

The basic idea is to make mind-blowing visual shows. Mind expanding art. It was always about trying to pull meaning out of all this chaos that you can discover through video experimentation and experimentation with graphics.

When I started out, the things I was really interested in were very esoteric. Underground stuff. It wasn’t mainstream at all, but now it is. We do shows for artists like The Weeknd. I didn’t foresee it exactly like this. It’s weird to say anything we do is mainstream because I want to be involved in the most esoteric experimentation of video. But it’s cool that we can bring those things to larger audiences with live shows.

When did VJ-ing become your profession? What was it like at first?

I started professionally doing video stuff for shows when I was probably 22. Initially, it was a process of discovery. To me, it was a completely wide open medium that people weren’t treating with the same reverence as cinema. You had people like Pink Floyd or a couple of groups that showed what you could do. Some artists that did their own thing that was really phenomenal and used video well, but it wasn’t the norm.

So I wanted to push it as far as it could go and think of it as something that was completely art. And now I feel like that’s more the norm, to have a visual show to go with the music, especially since the rise of EDM and big electronic music. The DJ’s needed to be able to fill out their presentation and bring people into their world using technology. I kind of got in at that time, where a lot of things were becoming possible. When people began desiring visual stimulation alongside the music.

I would go to those type of EDM shows growing up and I often thought the visuals were cool, but at times they appeared more like decoration than conceptual art. Do you think there’s still a lot of this in the field or are people starting to make live show visuals the way you do, with vision and concept in mind?

That’s a good way of putting it. Traditionally, I think it was an approach to do it decoratively. But now I think artists are realizing we have a universe that we can bring you into it at a show. So there’s a lot more conceptual stuff in there.

There’s still groups where it’s just decorative. But you know, there’s also an argument to be made, that sometimes you don’t want a visual show. Maybe it’s a certain group where it makes sense to focus on them over the visuals. But there is a certain kind of artist that benefits from having a visual component that is an immersive experience that you can be brought into.

Like Flying Lotus?

Yeah, Flying Lotus is great, he takes use of it very well. I love working with him because he’s such a cinematic fellow and is really into all these ideas we can bring into the visual show to sort of take you into his world.

http://strangeloop-studios.com/gallery/

So what’s the difference between how you approach a Flying Lotus show versus how you approach a show for The Weeknd?

I think Steve (Flying Lotus) wants to be embedded in this spectacle, and I think someone like the Weekend wants to go out and be the center of the show. Both are totally viable. Being a backdrop is not always bad. I respect those shows as well when it’s not about us trying to impose our vision. We can be a backdrop, but hopefully be a powerful vessel for what’s going on with the performance as well.

Let’s get into this Flying Lotus 3D Tour. In an interview with Pigeons and Planes, Flying Lotus described the show as a “live jam session” between you and him. How is it that?

When you see the Flying Lotus 3D show, it’s the whole thing, it’s the music, it’s the visuals, everything together. We’re taking the lead from Flying Lotus, but it’s in real time, building the syntax and the architecture of it as we go.

It’s a very natural process. As we play more shows, I start to get used to his material and absorbing it. I just get into the mindset of what he’s doing and eventually, we’ll know every beat of the track and we can match visuals to it. But it’s definitely an organic process. He changes the set all the time, so we need to be in a perceptive place. It’s just I’ve been working with him for so long, it’s rarely a stretch of my imagination. We’ve got to the point where we can read one another.

This is the first time we’ve done a real 3D show. In the past, we did different versions of a 3D show but it was almost fake 3D using multiple screens. Now we’re doing it with real 3D glasses, which I wasn’t interested in at all until I saw this new patented technology that’s not what you see in theaters. It uses a 3D LED wall, you’ll see it tonight, it’s pretty insane.

What do you expect the audience to feel while experiencing the show?

I think it’s very subjective. I hope people enjoy it, the whole thing is a big collaborative effort from a lot of people trying to make something that I think breaks through the noise a bit.

Ultimately, it’s about the ideas and the vibe. It’s a spectacle, but it’s not just about the spectacle. So I hope people walk away having questions, I love imagery where you can’t put your finger on it right away. That’s what I’m always looking for. Stuff where when you see it, part of you is going to wonder, what is that, what am I experiencing.

I want people to walk away, hopefully in awe of some kind. Wondering what they just saw, and wanting to see it again. Because it’s always different. The worse thing would be if you saw it and were like that was okay. Or to feel that you knew exactly what you saw. I want people to be pleasantly baffled.

I’d say that was an apt description for how I felt leaving the show last Tuesday. I was so satisfied I lost all my urge to trick or treat. Maybe next year…Until then, I’ll be keeping an eye out on the projects coming out of Strangeloop Studios and you should too. Speaking of which, check out their most recent work with Micah Nelson’s band, Insects Vs. Robots, whom Wexler collaborated with to create this genius video for the track, “THEYLLKILLYAA.”

Interview: Nai Palm Sees ‘Needle Paw,’ Her Debut Solo Album, as a Gentle Lullaby.

I talk to Nai Palm about her debut solo album, cooking wallaby, Australia, and more.

The late great Prince died with an unfulfilled wish. He adored the soulful quartet Hiatus Kaiyote and before passing, repeatedly asked them to perform live in his home. Unable to overcome logistical roadblocks, the show never materialized. With their genre-bending sound, however, Hiatus Kaiyote has honored and preserved Prince’s musical spirit and intention. The band’s heartbeat and energy are conducted by their lead singer, Nai Palm.

An orphan from Australia, the group’s front-woman sings from a heart pained by loss and tribulation. Nai lost both of her parents before the age of 14, resulting in a childhood of fluctuating homes and families. Detached from the love of kinship she found comfort through nature, writing, and song.

With Needle Paw, Nai’s debut solo album out today, she capitalizes on her opportunity for independent expression. After more than 5 years of releasing music and touring with Hiatus Kaiyote, Nai was ready to hone in and communicate her own vision. She describes Needle Paw as the “skeleton” of a Hiatus Kaiyote album. Stripped down to acoustic guitar and vocals, it’s a chance for listeners to appreciate Nai’s vocal range and ability.

The album is more digestible for the common ear without the layered instrumentation her bandmates bring to Hiatus Kaiyote. It’s simplicity, though, doesn’t take away from its impact. In today’s frantic world, sometimes all you need is a “gentle lullaby,” as Nai says below.

I had the chance to catch up with her in the midst of the Needle Paw North American tour, just two days before the album’s release. She hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, but as I call, she’s about to.

Let’s get right into it, I know you’re super busy. 

Well, I’m more just like, at a diner. The busyness is going to be me fitting heaps of food into my mouth.

Haha. Do you think Australian breakfast is better than American breakfast?

Our breakfast shits on your breakfast, hahaha.

Agreed, I noticed that while studying in Sydney this year. Speaking of food, you’re music and style is super cultured. Do you cook? I feel like you’d make some crazy multi-cultured shit in the kitchen. 

Yeah, I like cooking! My favorite thing to cook is wallaby, which is like a way cuter Kangaroo. You cook it in coconut oil with like sage, agave nector, paprika, garlic and it’s really yum.

And I love cooking with beet juice because I’m an improv cooker and I love color. I feel like if your food is too beige you’ll end up pretty fucked up. And I always cook with honey, because I’m obsessed with it.

I watched your interview with EricTheYoungGod, and you guys talked about why Hiatus Kaiyote may be more popular in the states than in Australia. I was in Melbourne this year and I was introduced to these fantastic soul groups coming out of the city like 30/70 and The Do Ya Thangs. To me, the city seemed like an up and coming epicenter of neo-soul. I was wondering if you noticed this too and how much this rise has to do with the city of Melbourne and or, Hiatus’ success? 

There wasn’t much of a scene for that shit when we (Hiatus Kaiyote) started out…and there is now.

Hiatus came up through house parties and jam parties with people playing lots of different styles. There was like a beat maker scene and then there was us, and no one really knew what to do with it because we performed in a live format.

All the heads that were into Dilla and shit we’re all just kinda making your Low End Theory kinda joints, ya know?

As far as those bands you mentioned, they are a couple years after Hiatus. It’s kind of weird I keep getting associated with them because we’ve been touring internationally for like 5 years, so this little soul scene that’s popped up there…I don’t really feel that connected to because it wasn’t there when I was around.

Got that. When I listen to those groups I definitely hear Hiatus’ influence. When I listen to you sing, in particular, it’s crazy, I feel like I can hear the influence of where you grew up. It’s so natural but at the same time, urban and hip. How did growing up in contrasting environments, a city, and nature, influence your work? 

I lived in a place called Mount Beauty which is more like an alpine valley. It’s very green and filled with rivers and mountains…I think it’s important for people to be exposed to lots of different ways of living and cultures, and of course, that’s going to influence you creatively.

If you just like go to the same place and eat the same thing all the time and then go to create…Humans are like sponges you know, we’re the byproducts of our environments and the more you expose yourself to eclectic living, the better you are.

It seems like you’re influenced by your dreams, you got your permanent gold tooth because of a recurring dream right? Is there a really vivid or crazy dream that you can recall that inspired any of the songs on Needle Paw or any Hiatus songs?

Yeah, it’s actually related to the teeth thing. The “World it Softly Lulls” was a reccruing dream I had a lot when I was younger and before my 25th birthday, I had it again, which is when I got my gold tooth.

In the dream, I woke up in a hospital room and all my teeth were silver and there was this massive colored glass wall where all the images were moving and my finger’s get hot, and then lightning comes out of my fingers and shatters the glass and the pieces move past me in slow motion.

The rest of the dream, I’m on the top of a skyscraper playing with lightning and my teeth are conducting the electricity and its really, really, um…fun. It’s something that I’ve dreamt about a lot.

So Needle Paw, your debut solo album, is coming out in just two days. What are your emotions like right now? Nervous, excited? 

I’m just really proud of it and I think it’ll help people. It’s helped me. It’s not an egotistical album, it’s an offering, a sanctuary for people because the world is kind of fucked up and sometimes you need to put on a record that’s like a gentle lullaby.

When I first finished the record I kind of forgot about the whole release thing. For me the release was having it completed and to be like I’ve done this, it was a milestone… It was a fucking crazy challenge. I had a hectic year. I really bled for that album, so it’s really humbling that it’s going to do what it needs to do for other people in the same way it did for me.

How would you describe the album? How is it different than what you do with Hiatus, how is it similar? 

It’s like when I write a song and bring it to the band. I wanted people to see the skeleton of the ideas and the power of the intention in that. Its kind of like the skeleton of our weird voltron magic beats that we make.

Also, sometimes with Hiatus, I put a lot of effort into to my vocal arrangements and sometimes it gets a little bit buried in the mix when you have a lot of other shit…so I just wanted to really celebrate and showcase that, and the other singers that sing with us in Hiatus because they’re a part of the story too. It’s kind of like a journal, with people I really love on the record. It’s very simple and not overstated, but there’s power in that.

You’ve been posting singles to your Instagram with the album artwork for Needle Paw. It has a very cultural, eclectic aesthetic, similar to your music. What can you tell me about the artwork? 

I found a really amazing artist. Her name is Jowy, iseejowy on Instagram. I just started following her work and I loved how deeply, spiritually feminine and punk it was, it’s like elegant and fierce at the same time.

Being in an industry saturated by men, being in a band with 3 other dudes who are the most emotionally centered people I know…I just wanted something that was very effeminate, but not in a polite, western conception of that. I wanted something that was really evocative and powerful. Jowy’s work really resonated with me so we started following each other, started chatting, and then she drew a series of portraits of me and I had a Skype with her. I feel like I’ve met another member of my global family.

Before I let you go, you’ve traveled everywhere. This a music blog for the people of Austin, so I was wondering what you thought about Austin compared to other places you’ve been and performed? 

Well, I’ve only really played there during SXSW so it’s usually a cluster-fuck. But Austin is a cool city, there’s good vintage, bars, and barbecue.

I don’t know if SXSW is the truest representation of a typical Austin audience, but I remember someone was burning palo santo in the audience, that was a beautiful moment that I remember from Austin.

BROCKHAMPTON is Pioneering a Shift in Internet Behavior

---

BROCKHAMPTON is changing the way young people use the internet.

The rap-group/boyband/collective, met online, and use the digital realm as a forum for honest self-expression and connection. This type of behavior is difficult in today’s hyper-social era where users curate their online personas to maintain omni-positive perceptions.

But that kind of utopian life is unattainable, and BROCKHAMPTON wants to show people that that’s okay.

“Accepted. It’s OK to be insecure,” rapper Ameer Vann said in an interview with DAZED when asked what he wants people to feel when they listen to BROCKHAMPTON. “It’s OK to have vulnerabilities and to learn from your mistakes, and just keep growing.”

BROCKHAMPTON’s core members met on Kanye2The, the Reddit page for Kanye West fans. Since then, they’ve used their online community to find solace in their struggles. Kevin Abstract, the group’s brainchild, openly expresses his sexuality on tracks and videos. Rapper, Dom Mclennon, wrote an open letter about his struggles with self-harm, and shared it online along with a link to an anonymous chat room for self-harm victims.

Burdened by insecurity, they turned to the web to find people to connect with. There, they formed a community that facilitates each other’s passions and supports their vulnerabilities. This manifests into music that drips with blunt self-expression and honesty.

This display is important because the internet is often a place where differences are exacerbated more than they’re accepted. With so many lives to measure up with and compare to, we’re pressured to adopt curated personas when our individuality fails to fit in. Self has been annihilated by like-fueled empowerment.

With their success using the internet as a platform for vulnerability, BROCKHAMPTON has shifted youth culture. They’ve become a living example that having an online presence shouldn’t automatically compromise the authenticity of your expression there.

The impact BROCKHAMPTON is having on fans was evident at their sold-out “Jennifer’s Tour” show in Austin this month.  Hundreds of fans, all young, and of every creed and color, lined up hours before the show to celebrate their individuality with those who are helping them find it, their favorite American boy-band.

“Anyone with a computer can be huge,” a 15-year-old fan named Mason (pictured above) said to me. “If they can do it, you can fucking do it.”

A few moments later I spoke with a group of friends who met on their University of Texas class page after one asked who was going to the show that night. Amongst them was Yesmine, who said,“it’s a good reminder to always express yourself, even if at first people are unsure how to react, you still have to stand tall and keep pushing.”

These fans were just a small microcosm of the movement BROCKHAMPTON has sparked. It’s one made up of those who now see the internet as a tool for self-exploration and a platform to connect with others who share their interests.

Like BROCKHAMPTON, these people are teaming together after meeting online. The 17-year-old musician, Jelani Aryeh, started his art collective, “Raised By The Internet,” after linking with 20 other creatives on BROCKHAMPTON’s Reddit fan forum. Aryeh’s solo debut EP, “Suburban Destinesia,” explores many themes that BROCKHAMPTON’s projects do, namely the struggle of overcoming self-doubt and social alienation.

Nearly everyday a new thread on BROCKHAMPTON’s Reddit is made by a passionate individual seeking like-minded people to create new things with.

For fun, I decided to respond to one of the thread’s a few months back asking BROCKHAMPTON fan’s where they live. After saying Austin, I received this amusing response:

While this answer was probably a joke, it speaks to the evolved perception many BROCKHAMPTON fans now have for the internet. It can be a place that facilitates passions through connections amongst those whose only resource is their internet access.

Tomorrow, if I wanted to, I could discuss plans to form a band with someone I met online as we both munch on Honey Butter Chicken Biscuits at Whataburger. What a world.

In the words of the great Merlyn Wood, “I NEED A HONEY BUTTA!”

The Destructive Legacy of Pablo Escobar

AUSTIN — Earlier this month, former DEA agents, Steve Murphy and Javier Pena spoke about the rise and fall of Pablo Escobar; one of the most influential drug kingpins of all time.

Today, thanks in large part to Murphy and Pena, Pablo Escobar and the Medellin Cartel he pioneered are dead, but their legacy remains alive and impactful.

“Death and Destruction. That is the legacy of Pablo Escobar,” Murphy said to a packed Hogg Auditorium at the University of Texas.

“Pablo Escobar was the inventor of Narco terrorism. In his lifetime he killed between 10,000 to 15,000 innocent people,” Pena said.

Murphy and Pena are portrayed in leading roles on Narcos, the Netflix hit series about the rise of cocaine trade in Columbia.

U.T. students, including Dreia Carrillo, an Astronomy Ph.D. student, were ecstatic to see the DEA agents in real life after watching them on TV. “I was the first person in line. I couldn’t believe I would have the chance to see and hear my favorite DEA agents in-person,” Carrillo said.

Seeing the real Murphy and Pena shed a new light on Narcos and Pablo Escobar for many in the audience including Carrillo. “I left the show with a different perspective on Escobar. The talk helped me understand the human toll of his operation, beyond just those who were killed,” she said.

Because the narrative in Narcos is exaggerated for T.V., it may inadvertently glorify the luxuries of Escobar’s lifestyle while failing to convey the humane consequences of his destruction.

“About a third of the show is actually true. The 2nd third, well those events happened but not quite the way it’s depicted in the show. Then that last third, that’s just straight up Hollywood make-believe,” Murphy said.

Murphy and Pena told multiple stories about meeting people who have been impacted by Escobar while giving speeches on the road.

In 1989, Escobar and the Medellin cartel orchestrated the bombing of a Colombian domestic plane in route to Cali, Columbia, in hopes of killing presidential candidate César Gaviria.

It turned out that Gaviria wasn’t aboard, but many innocent Colombians were, including the Uncle of a woman Murphy and Pena met while speaking in Germany this year.

“After the show, a young lady came to us and said her uncle had been on that plane…There’s always a human side to the story,” Pena said.

In Norway, they met the nephew of Columbian Minister of Justice, Rodrigo Lara, who was killed for threatening to extradite Escobar. “He told us about how Pablo Escobar wanted all of his family killed. 20 members had to leave Columbia for Norway," Pena said.

Narcos just aired its 3rd season and there are several movies due to come out this year about the Columbian drug scene. Although the entertainment world continues to embrace it,

many remain burdened by the legacy of Pablo Escobar and the culture of drug trafficking he helped create.

Zimrii Music Plans to Use Blockchain to Change The Music Industry

Imagine this. You’re an independent musician who recently dropped out of college because your first single reached 1,000,000 plays on Spotify. When you check your bank account, though, you realize you’ve only made $7,000 in a year from the track’s success. You know that’s not nearly enough to secure studio space to make new music, go on tour, and sustain a living. Your musical aspirations begin to teeter. What do you do?

Mo Jalloh and Paolo Gava of Australian startup, Zimrii Music, believe they have a solution. It’s a cloudy and wet June day as they stroll into the cozy downstairs of a Coffee Shop in Sydney’s Ultimo area. Jalloh, from the UK, orders a cappuccino, Gava a macchiato, an indicator of his Italian roots. I ask the pair, why try and reshape the music industry?

Jalloh removes his sports coat, adjusts his Apple Watch, and takes a cautious sip of his steaming cappuccino. “I’ve got a few friends who are in Music. I don't play music, but I love it. So I understand their frustrations in terms of making it in the music industry,” he says.

They are a team of just two attempting to build a startup platform called Zimrii Music that they feel can completely alter the landscape of the music industry. It’s evident that caffeine and collaboration are Jalloh and Gava’s lifeblood these days. Both have bags under their eyes. 

“Historically, over the years, the artists have suffered in terms of new technology coming into music in terms of how much influence and rewards they gain from their creations,” Jalloh continues as he responds to my initial question.

The introduction of streaming has yielded extraordinary ease of access for consumers, however, it has also forfeited profits for artists. This has occurred thanks to the opaque rules for music copyright and royalties associated with music streaming. Paolo and Mo believe there is a technology out there that can be harnessed to fix this.

With a degree in accounting from The Manchester Metropolitan University, Mo handles the business side of operations. Dressed in a modest button down and trousers, Paolo’s role in Zimrii is to construct the visions that he and Mo theorized when they met. “I met Mo and we started to talk about blockchain in the music industry. How we could merge this new technology to improve the music industry,” he said. 

For those who have no idea what blockchain is, don’t worry, it’s a relatively new and confusing innovation.

The Blockchain is the fuel to virtual currencies such as Bitcoin’s fire. It is what allows virtual transactions to be facilitated without a 3rd party institution’s involvement. Bitcoin users called miners sort through ledgers of bitcoin payments to create a chronological and transparent chain of transactions. An official ledger is formed after transactions are verified by numerous miners around the world.

Nathan Water co-founder of SydEthereum, explained how the blockchain technology can improve the music industry with platforms such as Zimrii. “Decentralized file storage will allow music to be stored across distributed networks and delivered at near zero cost with no middlemen, no company sitting in the middle taking a fee,” he said. That profit will return to the artists.

Zimrii’s core feature, called Smart Contracts, will facilitate this process. Creators will be able to upload everything that underlies their musical compositions (notes, melodies, lyrics, etc.) and the track itself to Zimrii’s database as a smart contract. Each time any aspect of the contract is purchased, performed, or sampled, the blockchain network will automatically verify and execute the contract. With this, Jalloh says, “The artists will be able to see profits immediately rather than having to wait 6 months or so to actually see those copyright royalties.”

The goal is for this to alter the industry standard today where songwriters such as Rick Nowels, who has written for pop sensations such as Dido and Lana Del Rey, see little in royalties for the music they create. “Streaming has destroyed the income a songwriter makes from a song,” he said.

Zimrii will perform other functions such as smart contracts to expedite payments between live music venue owners and artist crowd funding. Fans will be able to invest in the rights of music by the artists and bands they love. Similar to a typical stock, if the music explodes, the value of the rights the fan owns will increase. Jalloh and Gava believe this will retain the personal connection between fans and artists that have been lost in the digital era of music consumption.

What’s more, though, is Zimrii’s potential to give back artists the ownership and control over the music they create. That way, instead of that independent musician giving up they're career because of insufficient funds, he or she may be able to continue making music for a living.