James Prudhomme, who produces as Suicideyear, is only 18, though his virtuosity might suggest otherwise. He's a guy who isn’t afraid to let his youth (not inexperience) shine through. He lets his muddled teenage emotions pour into his work. He sounds like he’s 18—innocent, moody, and, ultimately, hopeful—albeit, one of the more talented 18-year-old producers you’ll ever encounter. Hailing from Baton Rouge, Suicideyear grew up on the homegrown sounds of Lil Boosie and Webbie, New Orleans— Cash Money and No Limit, and ATL— Gucci, Future, et al. The producers, too: Mouse On The Track, Mannie Fresh, and, more recently, Lex Luger have all left an indelible mark on him. And that’s just part of his musical acumen. Many of his compositions have an ambient quality rarely touched in hip-hop; his synth layers are a blend of organic and digital and go way past empty categories like “trillwave.” Though, as we’ll say again, hip-hop is the blueprint. Very careful with his drumwork, he uses basic trap motifs to find more than pure aggression. If you call it “trap,” then Suicideyear will give you a genre ridden with complex emotions. He’s already worked with fringe characters like Rome Fortune and Main Attrakionz, along with Internet “sad rap” sensations (more on that to come). Though it’s just the beginning. He’s rumored to be in cahoots with some big names (we're talking YMCMB). Come see why.
In rap’s ever-changing soundscape, even his earliest stuff is ahead of the curve. Kill yourself, this is Suicideyear.
rome fortune
Rome Fortune
Atlanta has always been a creative epicenter in hip-hop, but in the past few years the city has really started to own that reputation. Whatever your opinion on ATL’s new school, dem boys aren't afraid to get weird, and push genre boundaries in the process. While sometimes the weirdness comes at the expense of real songcrafting, that’s definitely not the case for the green-bearded Rome Fortune, who’s style is just as unique as his color-changing lumberjack facial hair, which (actually) according to his latest Twitter photo, is now mostly orange with some green left at the very bottom.
Of course, the successes of ATL's most eccentric superstars wouldn't be possible without an array of superproducers behind the boards. And it's encouraging that Rome Fortune, five mixtapes in, has already recruited a team of eclectic and highly talented beatmakers. Some of his frequent co-workers like Childish Major and Dun Deal have made hits for the biggest names in the South. He’s also ventured elsewhere into more electronic worlds, with instrumentals on his latest mixtape by the likes of dubstepper Bassnectar and underground dance legend Four Tet. One of his go-to guys is the young Suicideyear, who's produced five of his official tracks, including three on his latest tape, Small VVorld. Suicideyear has managed to, however unconsciously, bridge the two genres that Rome tends to weave in and out of. His music is carried by the spirit of Southern rap, with specific odes to Louisiana, and, undeniably, ATL. In between the 808s, though, he layers cosmic synth patterns in sync with other delicate bells and whistles.
"5 Second Rule" is the mixtape's most aggressive song, where Rome, sometimes eloquently, sometimes not, asserts that it's indeed appropriate to eat the booty if it hits the ground for less than five seconds at a time. Suicideyear masks Rome's appetites with a dungeon anthem cloaked in an eeriness that makes all the vulgarity feel rather charming. "Workin Gal" features an electric Zelda-like melody that's fractured by a heavy sheen of percussion underneath. Fortune croons and mumbles (he's from the A, remember?) about his favorite workin gal's (those who work for him). Most of Fortune's subjects are familiar, i.e. sex and drugs, though we rarely hear a guy get so explicit while still sounding so gentle. On these tracks specifically, this is achieved in large part by Suicideyear's visceral trap motifs placed alongside mystical melodies that hit a much more introspective space.
At the end of last month, Rome and Suicideyear put out "No Drugs Anymore," and it looks like this tandem will have plenty more for us in the future. It's a similar contrast between producer and rappa/sanga. Suicideyear constructs an airiness that flutters between nostalgia and outright melancholy, while rolling hi-hats lend some structure to Rome's free-flowing laments. Together, they reflect how a substance-imbued love affair can be both innocent and incredibly alienating. Check out the recently released video below.
remixes
Remixes
Suicideyear first started getting some hype for himself by putting up remixes of mainstream rap songs on his soundcloud. This is a common tactic for young bedroom producers trying to get noticed, but these are something entirely different. Raucous ratchet anthems turned upside down, starting with the bootleg he’s most known for—if you’re gonna remix “Hard in the Paint” and get away with it, you better come correct. He trades the bone-rattling power of the original for a computerized, virtual soundscape where Waka’s barks still hold all the same bite. It’s a unique space where the listener can start to understand beneath the surface inspiration that Suicideyear got from larger than life trap stars like Flocka.
He’s also done a Danny Brown Remix, showing his palate extends well beyond the South. We already heard him deal in the nasty with a couple of those Rome Fortune productions, and his Remixxxxx of the Detroit king of smut’s “I Will” earns all five of those Xs. Danny Brown gives us a treatise on his no limits approach to cunnilingus. It’s totally TMI, but Suicideyear’s woozy edit makes it listenable—more than listenable—dare we say, even, romantic?
While scouring his Soundcloud page, something you should definitely find the time to do, you’ll find a remix of Travis Porter’s “Do a Trick,” the only remix featured on his Japan mixtape. Said remix is subdued in the rawest way possible, lured to the late, late night party crowd. He slowed down “Honest,” Future’s mega-hit, letting you can really hold on to every word of Mr. Hendrick’s confessional. Vulnerable is new gangsta, and Suicideyear knows that mentality goes way deeper than the Sad Boys.
sad boys
Sad Boys
Meet the Sad Boys from Stockholm, Sweden. Nah, this angsty group of Swedish teenagers isn’t the most intimidating crew. Instead of turnt up, they turn down. Their version of lean is over-the-counter cough syrup chased with Arizona Iced Tea (they've got a huge following in Arizona). While they emerged as Internet phenoms, there didn’t seem to be much longevity about them. Now, it looks like their appeal is more than a shtick. The Sad Boys are by-products of years of online hip-hop forums, and their biggest influences are eccentric mixtape personalities like Lil B. When they began making their own music, they took his cry-but-don’t-give-a-fuck mentality to the next level. They’re regular kids whose rap dreams are, for now, on hold because they still have to go to school in a freezing land whose biggest cultural export is Avicii.
If you’ve been listening so far, you already know Suicideyear can supply the feels. The fact that he does so without abandoning a deeply embedded dirty South, trap muzik blueprint makes him an obvious choice for the Sad Boys. The pale, blond (Swedish looking) Yung Lean has emerged as the unspoken leader of the Sad Boys. A few of his music videos have clocked millions of YouTube hits, including the Suicideyear-produced “Hurt,” off last year’s Unknown Death 2002 mixtape. The video is an adventure through pixelated Windows 98 malfunctions and hilarious amateur greenscreening.
Hip-hop has always been rife with emotion, and most of your favorite albums, ever, have included one or two tearjerkers. But now many rappers are letting their sensitive sides dominate their entire personalities. Now it’s 2014, and we have sad rap. Along way from the icy confines of Scandinavia, we have Little Pain from Brooklyn, who stays true to his name. He, too, has teamed up with Suicideyear. “SMH” (The "Broke Boyz Anthem"), starts out with a woman weeping, and you start to get that this sad movement is gonna be a ridiculous guilty pleasure. Without pointlessly overusing the word “sad” again, Suicideyear’s funeral parlour organ line is immediately absorbing (“start tearing up”), and with frenetic drumwork, and DJ Mustard-style chants, it really bumps, too. Let’s just say: It hurts so good.
mixtape / album
Mixtape/Album
If you really want to get a taste for Suicideyear’s eclecticism, you’ll have to go past his rapper collabs and visit his personal tapes. As is the case with much of today’s young talent, such as previous BTB feature Sango, Suicideyear takes as much pride in his solo projects as his production credits, if not more. Though the money’s probably gonna come through the rap game, he’s already released an incredible mixtape, and this past Sepetember, his debut album on Software Records, an imprint well known in NYC and beyond for its forward thinking endorsements of up-and-coming electronic music makers.
Japan finds Suicideyear exploring compositions way beyond hip-hop. His first mixtape is a collection of booming, moody instrumentals. He comes at his beloved genre from barely recognizable reference points, from the club to more under-explored voids of electronic music. There’s also that remix of Travis Porter’s “Do a Trick.” Said remix is subdued in the rawest way possible, lured to the late, late night party crowd. Suicideyear made Japan in the aftermath of tragedy, his Baton Rouge house burning down, yet with the unavoidable excitement of a dedicated kid whose music is beginning to get noticed. He’s able to weave complex emotions into his music with the skill of someone much older. While, as a whole, these meditations definitely communicate just fine without any vocals, it’s obvious why experimental (and young) rappers like Little Pain and Yung Lean might find themselves at home on one of these tracks.
Remembrance, his first official album, is even more mature. The video for the title track and album standout says a lot about the project. Nothing flashy—except for the brand new White benz. He drives through Baton Rouge alone throughout the clip, smoking, head-bobbing, dancing under the bridge. It’s obvious the scenes are familiar to Suicideyear, and they feel familiar to us, too. There’s a story of love and lost here, that could work as a tribute record to Baton Rouge, and its unique musical influences, like Boosie and Mouse. And whatever eclectic sounds Suicideyear and his outsider buddies were and still are exploring as teenagers. He gives us an intimate look into his life, and his budding music career, and even at its most emotional points, it’s never hard to follow along.
