Harlem rapper A$AP Rocky is having a weird year. He recently issued his sophomore major-label album, “At.Long.Last.A$AP,” his second release in a row to debut at No. 1. He had a small role in the hit indie film “Dope,” and has just launched an already successful tour — which lands Sunday at the Aragon Ballroom — with fellow outlier Tyler, the Creator. Right before this interview took place, he performed at the MTV Video Music Awards with 21 Pilots, and also became a meme (he rolled his eyes at host Miley Cyrus, and went viral).
And yet Rocky, born Rakim Mayers, lost his business partner and mentor, Steven “A$AP Yams” Rodriguez, to an accidental overdose in January. Yams was a founder of A$AP Mob, the hip-hop collective to which Rocky belongs, and his best friend. In a recent phone interview, he talked about Yams’ legacy, the trouble with rappers and his trippy, experimental new album. This is an edited version of that conversation:
Q: What are you working on in the studio?
A: As of now, I’m working on an album that Yams started, as well as my own album. It’s basically everything he wanted, his preferences of artists and sonics, everything that defines Yams as an artist. He wrote a lot of things down detailing who he wanted to collab with, what kind of songs he wanted to do in the future. We have all of his composition books. So, I’m working on that right now.
Q: How does it feel to be doing that? Heavy, I’m guessing.
A: That’s life, man, you know?
Q: How did your VMA performance with 21 Pilots come together?
A: We had about 14 hours to rehearse. The purpose was to collide and merge both genres, both worlds.
Q: It was a lot like when Kendrick Lamar and Imagine Dragons performed at (the 2014 Grammys). Did you have something like that in mind?
A: Not for me, no.
Q: You also became a meme, when you rolled your eyes at Miley Cyrus. What was that about?
A: (Laughs) Oh, man. (Pause)
Q: She seemed to have mistaken one of your songs for Kendrick Lamar’s.
A: That’s funny to me, because she and I actually always have conversations about LSD, often.
Q: She seems nice.
A: … yes. She’s wild.
Q: The narrative on your first album was that you were this tabloid sensation, a young, brash guy, and your second one transitions you to an artist. Is there some truth in that?
A: I mean, I don’t think it can transition me to something that I’m already in. My first project was a mix tape, and I think that kind of complements the last album that I just dropped. Those two are similar, a lot of those spacey, cloud-rap sounds goes with those sonics. The mix tape influenced what was to come, for instance, the trill, the gold grills, the jiggy (stuff), the videos like “Goldie” that I directed by myself. All of these videos that changed hip-hop, the fact that a lot of people in my generation try their best to mimic or imitate what they were seeing, I love it. It just shows that I’m doing something right, and that’s a big enough accomplishment. There’s not too many awards and Grammys around here. … I know I’ve always been an artist, that’s the obvious part about it, but a lot of people were so dazzled by the swag and trill, I just felt like (there) was more of a statement that needed to be made. This album, I just gave no (expletives) and just artistically went for it.
Q: You’ve said you feel the word “rapper” doesn’t mean anything honorable.
A: As rappers, we get grounded by stereotypes. … It’s sad, sometimes, the way we’re perceived and belittled, and that’s due to us sometimes because rappers fit a lot of the same cliches, and you can marginalize them because they do fit a certain kind of demographic for a certain type of man. They got baby mamas, they got bad credit with all these fancy cars and houses, they got legal issues, they (use) all these big words inaccurately, they just sound ignorant. There’s no eloquence. That’s how we’re viewed at the end of the day. … Listen, I come from that. I get it, being from a poverty-stricken neighborhood, having nothing to look forward to but something like hip-hop or fashion or graffiti. I get it. I think the whole thing now is, people are starting to realize we actually don’t really have to do that. If a person is into that, if that’s their lifestyle, that’s cool, but at this point it’s over-saturated. When I want to watch all that ratchet (stuff), I turn it on, don’t get me wrong, but you gotta be in the mood for that.
Q: Your new album talks about a lot of cultural stuff, but it isn’t overtly political.
A: I hate when somebody lectures, that’s not what I’m here for. I want to express myself freely, but not, “Oh, let me try LSD for the first time, then make a song,” “Let me turn on the news and look at what’s going on in Ferguson and make a song.” That’s not how it works. I feel like if it’s necessary and it’s really in my life, then it’s necessary to speak about. We got other rappers for that … .
Q: In (new song) “Holy Ghost,” you talk about unethical people in church, ushers skimming from the collection plate.
A: I didn’t want to look like I was bashing anyone. Most of the mentality in America is you have to go to church every Sunday. Most Christians tell you, if you’re doing something wrong “you’re going to hell.” I don’t know how that can be enforced by anybody else besides God. I grew up around people who go to the clubs on Saturday and do crazy things, and wake up early on Sunday to go to church, and by Monday they’re doing the same (stuff). I feel like you don’t need to go to church to have your own relationship with God. I grew up in a Christian household, but I’m more of a free spirit. … I have my own relationship with God, and I think that no man can measure that. The reason I don’t call myself religious is because I don’t like going to church. I pray every day before I go to sleep, I do. I pray to my God.
Allison Stewart is a freelancer.
Twitter @chitribent
When: 5:30 p.m. Sunday
Where: Aragon Ballroom, 1106 W. Lawrence Ave.
Tickets: $49.75; 800-745-3000 or www.Ticketmaster.com
