Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's A CLBRKS Interview

Shit happens in Amsterdam. It's not exactly a destination for people who expect shit not to happen. Largely legalized vice, the Heineken brewery, and an oh-so convenient location on the European continent have long driven tourists there to engage and indulge in debauched, hedonistic behavior. Thus, when opting to visit a place like that, regardless of the reasons, an expectation should hold that shit will very likely happen, and it will probably happen to you.

In CLBRKS' case, his phone broke. How specifically or why exactly this occurred didn't come up in our conversation, though the possibilities get the mind wandering. Either way, some shit happened to it in Amsterdam, and now the rapper has to make do with his friend's old Motorola burner, which in his estimation isn't ideal when promoting a new album in this Instagram era.

"All of a sudden, promotion of all aspects–of shows, of media, of everything–now relies solely on an artist," he says. "I can't do everything myself. How am I going to reach bigger outlets that these people have just completely gate-keeped all the mailing lists for?"

Though he swiftly credits Rhythm Section, the UK-based label behind his just-released CLBELLIC with Finnish producer Nicky Diesel, for being substantially more involved in marketing his work than some of his prior partners, the burden of acting as one's own publicist is a common concern among independent hip-hop artists, to say nothing of creatives at large. "I still haven't made a TikTok yet somehow," he says. "The best idea I could come up with was videos of me farting in awkward public spaces and I was like, that has nothing to do with your music."

Without a manager or booking agent, CLBRKS (pronounced cee-el-brooks) subsumes those responsibilities himself as well. "I've definitely been maybe exploited or taken advantage of in some scenarios," he says, which he attributes partially to a lack of knowledge about how the proverbial sausage is made and also to his own excitement at the prospect of getting his art out in the world. Yet despite those understandable grievances, he largely appears pleased with his current status, one that allows him at the age of 30 to do music as a D.I.Y. livelihood rather than in tandem with the retail service slogging of his 20s.

"Financially it can be quite difficult, combined with my own financial irresponsibility," he says, "but also I'm just grateful to be able to do what I enjoy doing, to be able to do it well, and for people to be kind to me and give me their time."

Though CLBRKS has been dropping projects for nearly a decade, his 2020s run of releases raised his profile noticeably within the rap underground. "I'd ended an eight year relationship and it got all kind of weird," he says of this productive period, which led to more material than he could even release. "I just had to throw myself into my work and try my best." With a style that skews closer to Styles P than, say, Central Cee, his single-producer outings like THE LIBRARY OF BABEL with Dweeb and MICROWAVE COOKING 2000 with Morriarchi followed down similarly skewed new bap pathways as stateside acts under the Backwoodz Studioz or Griselda shingles. "Roc Marciano is my father," he quips, also counting the late Prodigy and Sean Price among his biggest influences.

Contrasting with those primarily focusing their efforts and energies within the UK's insular bounds, that New York influence serves CLBRKS well. The innate appeal of his quick-witted wordplay and somewhat drawling delivery more naturally connects him with an international audience. On CLBELLIC, he draws upon Grand Theft Auto IV and its Liberty City protagonist Niko Bellic for inspiration, spitting stuffed sequences over Diesel's slightly askew, low fidelity beats on "BRUCIE KIBBUTZ" and "WALKING ON HUMBOLDT." Though avid gamers might be lured in by these nods and references, the actual content of the lyrics take advantage of actual open-world dynamics.

Though his rhymes do get cerebral, there's nothing nerdy about CLBRKS, someone more keen on squaring up IRL than squabbling online. Not long after mentioning his concurrent efforts to wean himself off of alcohol and Prozac in the days before CLBELLIC's drop, he describes himself as a "big sucker for violence" while lamenting a recent altercation that left him with a broken rib. "I got my heavyweight champion of the pub title taken off of me," he says, nursing wounds both physical and existential after a fight escalated indoors and continued outside. "With a lot of men, those kinds of things could really fuck up your confidence and stuff. That's when I realized I'm not quite a normal guy."

Of course, normality isn't all-that desirable a trait in a craft like his. It's difference that often best serves an emcee, a considered perspective from a unique vantage point that guides the pen towards greatness. He suggests that ADHD has something to do with the way he creates and, for better or worse, lives. "I've always had a bit of a liking for living life on the edge, really," he says, citing self-described excessive spending habits around dining and drug consumption as examples. "I never do things halfheartedly and I like to have that same approach with my music."

While copping to the autobiographical aspects to his writing, he wants to be clear that there's more going on in his music than narrative or nostalgia. "I built CLBRKS into this character that isn't Conrad Brooks," he says, giving his government name to drive the point home. "Adhering to playing that role has had some positive effects on my mental and physical wellbeing, but a lot of the time it's had to do with me completely ripping myself apart and pulling myself back together.

"It's been detrimental in many ways, but I think I've made things that I can look back on and say, yeah, you did a good job."

Jabee, The Spirit Is Willing, But The Flesh Is Weak (buy it / stream it)

Oklahoma City native Jabee has spend the last decade and a half building with rap icons like Chuck D and Murs and producers such as DJ Vadim and El-P. The hometown hero and indie hip-hop fixture appears poised to level up again with his debut for Mello Music Group. Boasting an enviable production roster that includes Apollo Brown, Evidence, and Conductor Williams, The Spirit Is Willing, But The Flesh Is Weak plays through quickly while staying resonant both during and afterwards. "No Love" shatters illusions one dope bar at a time, reinforcing his own side of the story while dismantling another's fake take. Operating from a moral high ground, he offers wisdom and warnings on "Keep It Real" while exhibiting grace and hope on "God Made Rap." The project's sole credited vocal guest, Quelle Chris offers a wandering skeptic's perspective alongside Jabee's firm pew ruminations on "Sacrificial Lamb."

Popstar Benny, Oasis (buy it / stream it)

Trap music put Atlanta on the hip-hop map, yet its often been left to female artists like Latto and Baby Tate to push for greater thematic and sonic diversity. Apparently attuned to this more so than most of the city's producers, Popstar Benny assembles a stellar, localized roster including rapper Princesa 28 and bedroom pop outliers Coco & Clair Clair for this short yet vital outing. For most, rising star Vayda will be Oasis' most-recognizable presence, thanks in part to her opening for Veeze on tour. Her breathy yet emboldened takes perfectly complement these bubbly, kawaii beats on "2020" and the SadBoi pairing "Wiz." A legit standout amid a formidable lineup, Glorygirl2950 takes "Reverb" to compelling cartoonish heights, her voice cracking at the end of each bar like an unhinged anime character made flesh. On the other end of the spectrum, Woo Da Savage offers a cool, calm delivery over the airy boom of "Gettin' Cake" while the raspier Tylerfuckinjai speeds up her flow for "Old Me" while maintaining an icy monotone.

Three new tracks to snack on...

Cori René, "Up!"

Nappy Nina & Swarvy, "Groundhog Day"

Niambi, "Rocksteady"