When performing, Grieves showed no sign of his laidback disposition, adopting an energetic and charismatic stage persona to compensate for the admittedly down-tempo nature of his music. His DJ, Budo, was in top form– alternating between turntables, trumpet, guitar, and keyboard, often switching mid-song. I got a chance to meet up with Grieves before he took the stage at the Paradise. After maneuvering through a maze of narrow hallways (I may or may not have ended up behind the counter of the coat check at one point), we settled into some couches backstage. The hour that followed is best described as leisurely chaos. Swedish speed rappers Soulive made an appearance, in search of dressing rooms and a package store. DJ Flip Flop and California rapper Tunji were there, occasionally weighing in with their own thoughts. At one point, we paused the interview to gather around and watch a Tiger Woods sextape parody on Youtube.

For his part, Grieves seemed almost indifferent to the frenzy around him, giving unhurried and thoughtful answers. When a problem with the tour van arose, Grieves handed off the keys and did some instructive pointing without even taking his feet down from the coffee table. After the fourth time that the alarm on the tour van went off, Grieves finally left to handle it himself, only to return ten minutes later and resume his answer midsentence–exactly where he had left off. Between frequent tangents, he managed to reflect about his process for his most recent album, 88 Keys, his place in the hip hop scene, and share his thoughts about the current tour. He also dropped some hints about his departure from Black Clover Records and the identity of that indie label he recently signed to.

–Tim Burdick

Wintertime on the East Coast. Are you from Boston?

Western Mass originally.

So, you’re familiar with this wretched weather.

Yeah, I don’t really like wearing a scarf to a hip hop show.

Yeah, that’s not very hip hop, but we have all crossed that bridge.

So, last time I saw you was with Atmosphere and Luckyiam a couple years ago in Providence…

Shit. Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel. I was DJing for Grayskul because I had a van and they needed a van. I was recording them at my studio, and they offered to take my van on tour. And I counter-offered to take me with the van. So, I was DJ for Grayskul. Mac Lethal was forced to cut a verse off one of his songs so I could rap on it. That’s how I met all those guys.

Are you from Seattle, or were you just living out there?

Well, I’m technically from Chicago, that’s where I was raised. For junior high and high school I was in Colorado. After high school, I moved to Seattle and lived there for about seven years. I moved to California for a year, and now I live in Brooklyn. I’ve kind of been all over the place. But I think I’m moving back to Seattle. I was just happy there. My heart is in Seattle.

So, how’s the tour going?

I’ve been on the road since you saw me in 2007 and this has actually been one of the most fun tours I’ve done in a really long time. I can really just express myself and be me. I’m not getting judged by anybody, and I don’t feel intimidated by anyone. It’s just a really good tour to be on. On the other hand, there have been terrible things that went wrong on this tour. To start the tour off, Budo put unleaded gas in our gas tank for van — which has a diesel engine. That fucked us on our way to our first show. Luckily – I don’t know a things about cars – it started sputtering and “you put the wrong gas in” just flew out of my mouth. I have no clue how I knew that. I stopped the car, and luckily for us it was in front of this redneck mechanic shop, where they had just gotten this big giant barrel for no reason. So, they siphoned 23 gallons of unleaded fuel out of our tank into this giant red barrel that kind of looked like R2D2, and we made it to Orlando with no damage.

Then we were driving through Texas in a rainstorm and our windshield wiper flew off. We had to pull over and figure out how to put on windshield wipers in the pouring rain in front of a bunch of rednecks – once again. And they were all laughing at us, because we’re a bunch of dudes that don’t know how to work on their own car, in Texas. We just got it fixed the other day, but until then one wiper was really small, and the other was really big. And we put the really small one on the driver’s side for some reason. Whenever it rained or snowed, you had to drive sitting really low.

When we were in Wyoming, our water pump seized up in the middle of the nowhere. If you’re familiar with I-80 through Wyoming, there’s absolutely nothing at all. We had to have our van towed from there to Denver, which is like 400 miles. It’s been the best tour, but it’s also had the worst luck. But I’ve been doing this for the last three years without a single problem like that, so I guess it’s all packed into the last two weeks.

So, you put out 88 Keys and Counting, late last year was it?

Yeah. November… 12th.

Were you writing while still on tour, or did you take a break to put that together?

That record was kind of a fluke actually. Budo and I hadn’t worked together before then. We knew each other from Seattle, and he was living in Urbana, Illinois. While I was on the Atmosphere tour, I was like, “Fuck it. You’re from Seattle. I haven’t seen a familiar face in a while, let’s kick it.” He showed up and we had a pretty good time. About a year after the Atmosphere tour, he had moved back to Seattle and it was the summertime. I was like, “Come over to my house, let’s make a beat and do a song over it. I have to start my new record now, and I’d like to work on a song with you.” The whole idea was just do a single song. Four weeks later, we had an entire album. Literally four weeks later, I had written everything, we had made all the beats for it, and it was completely demoed. I recorded it all in my bedroom or whatever. We’re sitting on this record and Black Clover Records wanted me to make it a tour CD. And I was like, “Fuck that. No.” So, I put my own money into it, and did it all by myself. Of course, I sold it hand-to-hand and shit, because Black Clover didn’t have distribution or anything like that.

We went to a really nice studio and re-did the whole thing in two weeks. We swapped out a lot of the synth pianos with real pianos. A lot of the digital synthesizers we were using were actually simulating real analog synths. This place in Colorado has all of it, everything you could ever imagine. It’s in the middle of the mountains, it’s the most beautiful place ever. It’s my fucking Shangri-La. We went there and recreated the whole thing. I retracked all the vocals, redid all the singing with a vocal coach. You can hear her doing all the high shit in the background. I wish I could work like that again.

I think about Irreversible and how it took me three years. It was just my favorite songs that I had made over the previous three years, and I was like, “I’m going to put out an album!” And all of a sudden, people were like, “I like this album,” and I was like, “Shit. I wish I had known that people were actually going to be listening to this, so I could have cut some of these songs.” With 88 Keys, I just meant to make a song, and I made a whole album, which, to me, goes together perfectly from front to back. It kind of blew my mind because Budo and I are two different people with very different influences. We alternated making beats, but it sounds like all the beats are made by the same person. I envy myself for being able to do that, and I wish I could tap back into how I felt at that moment that made me able to create that. But I have no clue. We’re actually rereleasing that album with a way bigger label.

Is the identity of that label secret?

Yes, but I’m pretty sure you could figure out who it is. It’s looking like February 23rd is going to be the rerelease date, and it’s going to be available in stores across the country. I’ve been talking to the label for a really long time and, especially since I was signing a contract, I wanted to know how they worked. They’re very community based, and a lot of stuff–the internet stuff–is done by volunteers for industry experience. There’s four people that have offices, and they do pretty much all the hardcore business. I want to be a part of something like that. I want to be with people that are doing it the best within my interest.

You talked about how writing 88 Keys was not your usual process–

Well, I had been working in a studio when I made Irreversible, like I was working at the studio where I was recording. So, I would do late night sessions – write and sit there and have a bunch of friends over and drink. 88 Keys was written in my bedroom. It was like, I just got this beat by email from Budo, who is at work right now. [laughs] I am going to sit down and write this whole entire song, right now. I’m not just going write a little bit, come back to it, and fuck around. I would write the song and track the song that day. Every song that was sent to me from Budo was written and recorded that day. Then I would sit with the song and alter a little bit in rerecording, but not much. I’ve never done that before. It was just… diligent. It’s not like I was under some sort of pressure. I just wanted to do it and I felt good about it. My girl would go to work, and when she was at work, I would work all day. When she was done, I was done. It worked out perfectly for me. It was insane. And I was happy with it. It wasn’t like I had fifteen tracks and recorded thirty more, and picked through.

So, moving forward, are you going to try to work that way again?

I’ve been writing that way now. When I sit down to write, I will write a whole song, which keeps me interested a little bit more. Also, I feel like it’s been pigeonholing me a little bit, because I haven’t been giving it room to breathe. In between my last tour and this tour, I found myself writing the same song over and over. I don’t feel like there’s anything wrong with that, because I don’t have to release any of those songs if I don’t want to. If I needed to make that song, I needed to make that song. That downtime for me was a little rough; I was going through some personal shit that was all I could think about.

I think now I’m cleared out and fresh off tour, I can work on some newer stuff. I want to try some upbeat stuff–my way, I don’t want to cater to the masses or anything–I would just like to have some more upbeat stuff. Especially with touring with groups like this–Mr Lif, who’s a pretty classic boom bap guy and Boston native, and Cunninlynguists–I’ve definitely adapted my stage show to have the energy that it requires. Now, I’d like to take some of that. My stage show and personality has a lot more charisma and energy than my music does. On a down note, it’s very self-reflective, it’s very emotional, it’s slow. That’s the kind of music I like listening to, but it’s not the kind of person that I am. It’s bizarre. I’ve been kind of battling with that, trying to figure it out. It’s going to be what it is.

So, what are you plans for after this tour?

We’re doing four East Coast dates, including Boston, with People Under the Stairs. Then, with P.O.S. for a Midwest tour, and then–fingers crossed–hopping over to Europe with Brother Ali in March. Then SXSW. And then nothing at all, except working on the record and living my damn life until Warped Tour, which I think we’re going to be doing this year. If not Warped Tour, then expect an album from me in the fall. Summer is kind of a lousy time to tour if you’re not on the Warped Tour, so I’ll just stay home and work. And move. I’m moving back to Seattle I think. I live in Brooklyn now and I think I’m going to try to get a little bit more social in New York. I haven’t been leaving my house–I have a studio in my house. I don’t really have any other hobbies besides music. I make a lot of beats. I make a lot of beats for other people, and I try to get into tv and movie production, scoring and soundtracks.

I need a New York hobby. Every New Yorker knows like fifteen things to do right then and there. And they’re like, “What are you doing?” and you’re like, “I think I’m going to catch a train home. Maybe watch a Netflix movie and eat some kettlecorn and make some music.” I need some hobbies. I need a cool bar that I can say I’m going to go to. In the summer, it was cool because you could just walk around and get into trouble. Now that it’s freezing cold, you’ve got to plan your route perfectly. Winter is all about finding a chick. At least that’s how I look at it. You’ve got to have a chick around in the winter to keep warm with.

So, going back in time before music was your only hobby–

Yeah. I had a savage drug problem. Kicked that. And discovered music more or less. I mean, I had always played music. My father was a musician and my grandfather was a concert pianist. Music had always been pretty prevalent in my life. I kicked the drug habit and I was like, “Well, this is all I can really do now.” I also lived in Colorado, where I snowboarded for a while, skated, and hung out it in the mountains with some hippie kids. I went to a lot of shows, but now as I do shows for a living, it’s not as intriguing to me to go to a concert. When I go to somebody else’s concert, I’m always like, “Man, I wish I could just go back stage and just relax. It’s loud out here.” I was at that Modest Mouse show with James Lynch, and I was like, “It’s fucking loud out here.” And he was like, “Yeah, it’s a fucking concert. You’re here to see the band.”

And you start watching how people react being in the crowd instead of looking down at them. And then you’re like, “How am I supposed to act right now?” I’m a terrible dancer, so going out and dancing is not an option. I’m not good at sports. I’m genetically prone to be terrible at sports. I’m tall, but I’m gangly. I’m 25 years old and weigh 125 pounds, and I’m six feet tall–if that can paint a picture for anybody. I guess I’m alright at bowling. I’m fucking really good at Capcom bowling, the 80s video game. [Everyone else in the room laughs.] There’s this bar in Manhattan called The Patriot. It’s this place that reeks, and it’s like a cowboy bar in the middle of Tribeca. They have only country music on the jukebox and it plays so loud that your ears bleed, and they have Capcom bowling. I have the high score like a motherfucker on that thing.

See, you have a bar. That could be your thing.

It’s not a bar that I like to admit that I go to. It’s like Coyote Ugly with herpes. It’s really bad.

Were you always into rap, or did you–

No. I’m not even a rap kid now, to be honest. It’s funny touring with rappers, they’re like, “You heard the new Lil Wayne shit” or whatever. It’s like, “I… No.” I didn’t even know what a torrent site was until last week. Budo taught me so I could listen to all these things coming out. He showed me some blogs. And this dude [pointing to DJ Flip Flop] is king of the blogs. I had never even been to most of these website. Like, you work for a website, I don’t know. I’ve got the physical shit down, but I don’t have my world wide web shit down. I don’t know much about hip hop. I mean, I love it, but I still love the stuff that I loved when I was in high school. I haven’t really advanced since then. I grew up on all sorts of shit. I love music. I play three different instruments. I wish that I could sing better. I don’t feel I have to be a rap kid to make hip hop music. I think that shit is kind of annoying sometimes. My roots don’t run deep in hip hop. I couldn’t tell you that I was listening to Run DMC and shit, because I wasn’t.

Because you were six years old.

Yeah. [laughs] It’s not that I don’t pay homage to the classics and the originators of my style. It’s just that I was able to do hip hop by myself. I was able to take everything that I learned in my life and all my musical adventures and I was able to do it by myself. Rapping came really easily to me, because it was being able to say everything I wanted to say without having to sing it. I’m not the best singer. When I started rapping, I wasn’t the best, but I always felt like I had pretty good rhythm. I started by rapping over guitar stuff that I would play. After I started listening to more and more hip hop, I picked up more style from that. And then I incorporated the things I love–I am a harmony and melody dude to the end. I can’t do those chop beats that don’t hold any note to me. I’m a goosebump guy. I really appreciate a dynamic in music that can allow you to actually physically feel something from it. That’s something I always try to bring to my hip hop, because it’s music like everything else.

Was it accidental? You sort of make it sound like you were rapping, and someone came along and told you that there was a whole genre of music with people doing that.

Well, it’s not like I didn’t know what it was. It just made sense to me one day. I don’t know. One day I just started rapping. It was right. It’s not like I was like, “I’m going to be a battle rapper.” Afterwards, I definitely tried the battle rapping thing. I was like, “I can rap now. I got this.” And I was terrible at that. I was never that good at freestyling, because I second-guess myself a lot. It’s of my nature. It’s of my character. I always like to be sure of everything. There was a time when I thought that I was alright at freestyling. I was like, “I’m gonna get the battle on.” That was a terrible idea. But it taught me a lot. It definitely taught me a lesson in pride.

You were talking earlier about how you’ve moved around so much. Have you noticed a big difference in the hip hop scenes of all these places?

I love the Northwest and I love the Northwest scene, but the crowd can be a little bit difficult sometimes. The hard thing for me about being in Seattle was that I didn’t know what it was like to play for a crowd that just loved hip hop. I honestly never experienced that living in Seattle. When I was on tour, the crowds really like the music that is being played in front of them, they react to it, and you can interact with them. It’s like, “We’re playing real concerts out there!” then you come home and it’s like, “Ah, you fucking guys.” But musically, there’s some of the best shit: Blue Scholars, Macklemore, Budo, and Dyme Def. JakeOne and Vitamin D have been killing it for a decade now. It’s an area that doesn’t get a lot of shine, no pun intended. LA–a huge, huge city where you’d think it would be very difficult to make your mark–has a very positive, assertive underground hip hop scene. The Southwest, like Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado, has some really good stuff. Hip hop–as in graffiti, breakdance, everything–is booming there. Hip hop is very much a culture down there.

Other places that don’t get as many shows, like Nebraska, people are going to come out and see you and be pumped because they just want to party, but it’s not a hip hop cultural experience. It’s like, “I love this music, and I’m going to have fun.” So, a lot of the Midwest has this attitude that they don’t get hip hop shows that often, so they go crazy. When you get to the East Coast, it’s a little hard. The East Coast and the South are hard for hip hop. It’s not that it’s hard to get there or anything like that, it’s just that… hip hop has a very strong a presence on the East Coast and in the South. It’s a presence in which you better be worth your shit. It’s a you-better-be-good-or-get-the-fuck-out-of-here type of thing, which is definitely a little intimidating.

Last night we were in Burlington, Vermont, and it felt like the Midwest. They were just there to party. A lot of college towns are like that. But when you come to places like Boston, there’s a little bit more… it’s not pressure, but I want to say something like pressure. You have a lot more people that aren’t coming out just to party with you. There’s a lot more emcees in the crowd, a lot more musicians, a lot more critiquing, which is fine. It’s good because if it’s all criticism, you take it constructively, move on, and better your craft. I say it on stage and I say it now, born on music, raised on music, and I’ve had the opportunity to live my music. I’m extremely grateful for that, and I’m not going to lie about it. It’s awesome, and I’m really enjoying myself. If you don’t like me for that, then that sucks for… me, I guess, but whatever. The South is just hard, and I don’t know why. Touring is just more difficult. The crowds are always smaller, it’s harder to get people out. I don’t know, it’s warm, beautiful, good food, gorgeous women, but kind of slim crowds, for me at least. My experience in the South has been kind of… slow.

Do you feel like you fit in to the scene in New York?

Yeah, but I also don’t make myself a hardcore active member of the New York hip hop scene. I’m there more for personal reasons. I had some family out there, and my manager’s out there, and my agent’s out there. It just felt like it would be good to be there and be involved with that side of my career more and with my family more. I am not trying to break into the New York local scene and be like the top cat in New York. I feel like when you’re playing with locals, that’s a very present emotion with some of those people.

And I felt that way in Seattle. I was like, “I’m going to be the best motherfucking act out of this motherfucking place. Better than all you assholes, because you are all assholes to me, so I am going to be an asshole to all of you.” But I’m terrible at being an asshole. So, I didn’t want to involve myself with that in New York. I don’t have the time to be doing that many shows. When you do that, you definitely have to put yourself out there and show up to the shows of other people. I do go out and support other artists, by all means, if I have the time. If I know you guys, I’m going to go out, have a good time, and have a couple drinks, because I like my drinks. I just don’t … I do so many shows in such a small amount of time that I don’t want to go home and worry about what shows I’m going to all the time. I just want to relax and be me. It’s my down time. I love New York. My agent will get me a show every three months or so in New York just to show that I am still there. It’s nice for me because I can be selective with the shows and people still come out, rather than playing every week and people getting sick of you.

Especially since you’re now living on the East Coast, are there Boston rappers that you’ve been following?

Yeah, that reverts back to the whole hip hop question. But there’s the classics- Mr. Lif, Akrobatik, 7L & Esoteric… I don’t really know anyone else out of Boston.

Grieves plays at The Middle East Downstairs January 21st w/ People Under The Stairs