The fiery rapper JyellowL emerging from Dublin releases his LP ‘2020 D|Vision’. From empowerment to experiences of racism growing up in Ireland, the artist delivers the album with conceptual as well as sonic precision. Building on the contagious hook in ‘Jewels’ and thought-provoking lyricism in ‘Mademoiselle’, the 22-year-old conscious rapper envisions his journey. Beginning with delicate keys that tiptoe around the mind in the opening track ‘2020’, before they know it, listeners find themselves hooked to JyellowL's electric flow. The rapper shares stories from his childhood, his songwriting process and desire to take the Irish hip-hop scene to new heights.

Kaeshelle: What did you want people to take from the new album ‘2020 D|Vision’?

JyellowL: I had spent a lot of time in the UK and saw how the scene was over there. I’d meet some people and have some very mundane conversations, but they’d say, "Nah, I only listen to UK rap, I don't really listen to any American stuff." That was the common thing that I heard. I saw how the people really got behind their artists, who are doing incredible stuff in the scene. The industry is bubbling because there's so much output. There's a new artist almost every month, getting to the top of the game. We don't have that in Ireland. I don't hear people say, "Nah, I only listen to Irish hip-hop". But it's because there haven’t been that many artists operating on this frequency… well, until now. We’re getting a lot of traction and momentum now.

There are a lot of younger people who want to do music. Let's take the Irish drill people, they get a lot of criticism because people say they sound exactly like the British drill guys and there’s no originality. But what people fail to understand is that these kids don't have any relatable reference points from where they're from, especially on how to make this kind of music and achieve success because that has never happened. So there's no one to reassure them that they can be themselves, authentic and successful. They’re emulating the closest people to them who happen to be the UK guys.

The first generation of a music scene is so important. In Ireland, we’re considered the first generation of the hip-hop scene, even though there were people doing it before. You have to realise that you're not just doing it for yourself. So when you're breaking down doors for yourself, it’s not just for yourself. Someone down the line whether you know it or not, isn't going to have to break down that same door because you already bust through it. That was my reason for making the music to become a relatable reference point for people here, those listening and aspiring to do music as well – that was the vision.

Can you talk me through the process of creating ‘Hypocrite’, from the very moment of inspiration through to the finished record in the studio?

I was on the bus coming home a couple of years ago. I noticed this guy who was obviously high out of his mind, trying to get on the bus and being loud. Then he sat in his seat, minding his business. I just noticed how everyone got really aware of their surroundings and became visibly uncomfortable. I don't know whether it was the part of Dublin the bus was going through or what was going on that day, but it felt a bit weird. I thought, “I guarantee a lot of these people also indulge in what this guy has indulged in”. Albeit they probably wouldn’t be as public as this guy, but I'm sure they do some of the same stuff. Metaphorically speaking, everyone has their own drug.

So I was like, "Wow, we're all just hypocrites." Even me by judging these people because I'm sure if that guy had started disturbing me, I would have felt uncomfortable too. That's the real issue, I can't even realise when I am being hypocritical or unnecessarily judgmental because I'm seeing people and judging them. It just blew my mind on the bus. I thought, “Why am I acting as if I'm better or have some kind of moral high ground over people”. After noticing that situation, I started listing a number of things and realised, we're no better than each other. We're all just living life and have our set values, but there is no way to tell whose set of values is right or wrong.

The song came from that realisation of myself and I started picking out different social situations where I saw blatant hypocrisy and developed the idea. I wrote a couple of lyrics on that bus but didn't finish the song. A couple of months later, after seeing more things I documented them and finally sat down to get the whole song done. I didn’t want it to sound preachy, so the accompanying music had to not come across that way. It had to be more vibey. I sat down with my producer and said, “Do you know what would be perfect for this? If we made it afro but gave enough space for the lyrics to be heard”. That's how we got that whole afro-swing vibe going.

That inward critique is so powerful. How did you manage to develop that perspective because it's not easy to do?

That was something I was taught very early on. My grandparents were not big on traditional punishments, instead, they'd make you think about your actions when you've done something wrong. I was just an annoying kid. I remember one time I got so annoyed that my dad didn't want to play football with me. He just wanted to sleep, he was tired because he had just come back from work, but I was just disturbing him, saying "Let's play football”, “You promised!" I eventually made him do it and then he threw up because he had just eaten. Then my granddad called me to the side and said, "Look at what you've done", "What if something worse that happened to your dad? How would you have felt then?"

I always used to hear words like selfish, stingy and self-absorbed because they'd be thrown around but I didn't understand what they meant because I was five years old. But I realised it was such a selfish thing to do. That moment really hit me hard and I apologised to my dad, "You don't ever have to play football with me again." So, I learned from things happening in my childhood and growing up. My grandparents always made me look inwards, but not always negatively, when it came to achieving something too. My granddad made me believe I could do my common entrance early. I went straight into boarding school from Year 4. So, I was nine in secondary school, which was way too early, I wouldn't recommend it. But yeah, it was all kinds of things. I was taught to dig deep and never underestimate myself, but also be very self-critical.

I noticed that ‘Mademoiselle’ is the only track on the album with a feature. Can you talk about how the collaboration with Chris Kabs came about?

We have a thing where I write songs for him and he produces for me. We have a great musical relationship - it’s a very tight bond. He sent me this instrumental and said, “Bro, I don't like this song for myself, but I hear it for you. How can we make this work?” He speaks French, so that’s where the title 'Mademoiselle' came from. He was singing over it and trying to make a love song, but I didn’t hear it that way. So, I sat with it for a couple of days to flesh out the idea and think about how to make the collaboration meaningful.

With ‘Mademoiselle’, you see the title and you're already thinking you know where it’s headed. But no, I was taking it in another direction. I looked at where it’d fit in the album and decided to talk about being centred and having gratitude. It’s something that we touched on in the album on tracks like ‘Jewels’. But now we were making it more tangible, about people who I’m grateful for as well the experiences I’ve had up to this point.

I thought about how Chris and I started getting to know each other. At that time, I remember feeling lost. I didn't know what to do with my music or how to do it. He really took me under his wing. It’s crazy that that happened when I was 16. He didn't know me from anywhere and didn't have to do what he did. If he hadn't done that, I wouldn't be at this point. He made a lot of sacrifices for me. I felt like I needed to repay him somehow. I wrote the lyrics for him and he said, “Okay, but I still want the French thing”. My French is decent but it's not spectacular. So I used all the French that I knew, mixing it with a bit of English. As long as it sounded nice and was comprehensive, I’d be cool with it. So, I did the verses and Chris knocked the hook out the park with the vocals.

How do you think the conscious rap scene has changed in the last few years?

I think it's become a lot less preachy. That's something that I know there was definitely a stigma around. It's also a lot more musical. The artists that are doing it now have a great ear for music. I've been listening to Che Lingo’s music for a while and he’s a very versatile artist. He uses all sorts of instrumentals. He can go into different cadences and mesh different rhyme schemes and flows, etc. The same with Kojey Radical and Loyle Carner. The people doing conscious rap are also musicians at their core as well as rappers, I think that's how it's evolved.

So, when did you actually start rapping?

I started rapping professionally as 16, but I've been rapping since I was five, feeling guilty for making my dad play football with me. I was writing the same way people used to keep journals, I had a rap book. I kept my lyrics in there and never showed anyone anything. It was very personal, so no one could ever find out – I was embarrassed.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

At 16, I was very lost. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and there was so much pressure. All these careers were being thrown at you and everyone thinks they know what's best for you. So I was just very lost and neglecting music. I was so afraid of how people would receive it and the fear of the unknown was stopping me from acknowledging my passion and talent. So I would definitely advise a 16-year-old me to look inwards because I was looking at so many different options except the one that was staring me in the face. Just let go of that fear and do it.

I started rapping professionally as 16, but I've been rapping since I was five, feeling guilty for making my dad play football with me. I was writing the same way people used to keep journals, I had a rap book. I kept my lyrics in there and never showed anyone anything. It was very personal, so no one could ever find out – I was embarrassed.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

At 16, I was very lost. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and there was so much pressure. All these careers were being thrown at you and everyone thinks they know what's best for you. So I was just very lost and neglecting music. I was so afraid of how people would receive it and the fear of the unknown was stopping me from acknowledging my passion and talent. So I would definitely advise a 16-year-old me to look inwards because I was looking at so many different options except the one that was staring me in the face. Just let go of that fear and do it.

Artist Spotlight: JyellowL