'It's Tough Being Vulnerable In Hip Hop': US Artist Grieves On Being In Touch With His Emotions

Atmosphere taught me that When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold, Brother Ali taught me to love my appearance even in the hardest of moments with track Forest Whitiker and, when I felt all hope was lost, Eyedea and Abilities could still make me Smile.

Rap, as a genre, is unapologetic in its portrayal of negative experience, sure; however, it’s not hard to find the positivity that hip hop has been trying to portray since its conception. Through pRhymeTime I’m constantly trying to promote this uplifting and supportive message but at the same time I recognise that hardships and difficult circumstances arise in all of our lives.

When you come across an artist that so simply, so eloquently or so accurately portrays these moments, I think it’s important to recognise that being unhappy is actually OK, and simply a part of life. I am so excited to share with you this week's artist, Grieves (yes, of Rhymesayers Ent.), who took the time to chat to me about heartache, life on the road and his impending new album, Running Wild.

"I feel a lot less (heartache) on the new record," Grieves tells me. "I remember when I was first moved by a piece of music, it wasn’t necessarily the content in heartbreak, it was the way in which it was presented to me and it … affected me. I strive for that. I want to create the connection that results with emotional reaction to the music and, for me, that’s being honest, and in the sensitive realm of things.

"Some people can do that happily, but I can’t. I can’t be all, 'Everything’s good and we’re having a great fuckin’ time, everybody!' I resonate with music that’s, like, having love threatened, or something’s about to go wrong or has gone wrong. I’d have a better chance writing a song about how pickles taste than writing about fun in the sunshine, you know what I’m saying?"

Art is obviously subjective, you can take or leave as much (or as little) as you want. But your feelings and emotions are yours. They’re not for others to interpret; they are yours to own and, like art, take as much or as little as you want. Naturally, these emotions can be difficult to communicate, and even someone as seasoned at wordplay as Grieves can struggle to find ways to express themselves as they want to.

"Look, I’m not a profoundly spoken person until I sit down to make the music," he says. "I’m not always introspective and constantly tapping into people’s emotions. I have to actually sit with it. Sometimes it takes working on music in isolation or removed from my career to figure out where I want to go with it. There’s probably hundreds of songs in the studio that won’t ever see the light of day."

But it's evident that, when he finds the words, the process of staring that crushing feeling of heartache in the eye and facing it head on is one as much of catharsis as creativity.

"To me, heartbreak is a stone," Grieves reflects. "It’s a sinking stone in my stomach and my heart, and it’s constantly pulling down. It fucks with me, my interactions, how I look and listen to things.

"When I wrote Falling From You, I was sunken, I was down and I was out. But when I wrote it? The sinking stopped. I felt better! Some of those tracks are still hard to play sometimes, but I know how people feel when they hear it and, from hindsight, the feeling I had doesn’t mean the same thing to me any more. They don’t have to feel that way either."

Grieves’ discography is a finely tuned balance of how misery loves comedy, romance loves company and how self-deprecation loves a drink with optimism. I wonder, though, if, after years in hip hop, there’s still anxiety or hesitation in sharing tracks of such personal content.

"Oh, always!" he admits. "But I might not actually be talking about a person. It’s just, I’m better at writing songs about that kinda stuff. When I wrote Gwenevieve, for example — I don’t actually know someone called Gwenevieve! I was talking about issues I was dealing with at the time and I was able to convey that by putting a person in that place."

Not that, when he is writing about a real person, he's overly delicate about it (need I mention Kidding Me?).

"Look, I’m not a malicious person. Quite the opposite actually — to a flaw, probably — but if I approach a song like Kidding Me, it’s, 'Fuck that person!'

"So, no, I don’t always think about how it affects them. But also, when I wrote that song, that was a hindsight piece that I was actually reflecting off a producer I was working with. I wanted to wear what he was going through; we wanted to confront it. I had shit to talk about, he had a beat and we wanted to make a moving-on piece instead of a 'Why did you do this to me?!' piece. I was like, fuck it, let’s be selfish."

Grieves toured his last album, Winter And The Wolves, for over two years, playing a full European tour, two full national tours then B-market wrap-ups. So, despite the album being released three years ago, he’s been working this whole time, and credits his unwavering focus as being the key tool in maintaining his mental stability throughout that period.

"I know my boundaries and I’m good at soaking up reactions," he muses. "I learn a lot on the road, but I’m not great at writing on the road. Often, little freak mistakes that happen will influence how I end up transposing and changing the song later in the studio. But there is a balance; I try to take breaks and still have my family life. It’s a lot and intense but, also, it’s kind of what I signed up for. I’m aware of the process and so are the people connected to me.

If you’re unfamiliar with Grieves's work, he’s undeniably a rapper; however, he also manages to sing — and do it well — in most of his songs, a creative decision he says branched out of his desire to inject his music with a more melodic element, even though he wasn't initially particularly confident about his voice.

When I first started my singing, I wanted something more melodic and I didn’t know anyone else that could do it for me," he explains. "It’s taken me a decade to be comfortable singing, but I’ve also always gravitated to songs that match a natural pitch and tone for my voice. With Auto-Tune and big-open-spacey production styles that rappers are doing now, unless you add melody it actually becomes less interesting.

"I like some of the Auto-Tune stuff. I like that you can emotionally create yourself to be an instrument. But I’m a nerd, I’m a tech guy and I like that shit."

I’ve been struggling with being a fan-boy this whole time, until, finally, I decide to run with Grieves’ honest approach: “A lot of your albums have been soundtracks to my failed relationships,” I begin, when he interjects, “I’m the break-up king!”

I continue explaining Falling From You was a double-edged sword for me as a listener, where I battled “I’m so incredibly in love with this person and I’d do anything for them” with “Fuck me, I don’t know who I am and I hate myself.” So, for me, that track allowed me to sit with distress; feel it, recognise it and (albeit eventually) move on.

"I’m the break-up king, man, I’m telling you!" he laughs (see? Misery does love comedy). "But rappers aren’t known to be sensitive people. Man, it’s tough being vulnerable in the hip hop industry. There’s so much bravado; it’s nice to be able to make music and know people are feeling it."

After watching the clip for new single RX, I wonder where his unique yet relatable viewpoint stems from, and if it's still something Grieves explores in a wider sense on the new album.

"Look, I struggled with drug issues in my life; I was lucky enough to come out on top of that," he admits. "But I struggle with panic attacks quite frequently, and it fucks me up. The only way to make it better is to take these drugs, and they turn me into a vegetable. Travelling, I really went through it and my fuse ran short. I got rattled. I was shook up. I couldn’t approach music at one point, so I had to actually face it and deal with it. So that’s how I dealt with it: through music.

"That song is about how I felt and how I frequently feel. It’s still subjective, though, because it’s not about the panic attacks; it can be about addiction, love, broken families; it can be whatever the fuck you want. I don’t want to define a song by what I say it is."

So, how does Grieves move on from heartache, whatever its cause?

"Music!" he effuses. "I tell you what, man, when I’m done doing this for a career, I will still have my music. I’ll still have my instruments. I was doing it long before the career and I’ll be doing it long after. My hobby became my career, and my idols became my peers; I’m incredibly blessed and lucky but I’ll always continue to do this."

Personally, I feel like ‘music’ might be easier said than done. But I also feel like picking up a pen. Perhaps that’s something we could all take a lesson in, 'coz hey, no one has to read it but you; it’s therapeutic in nature, and who knows who could be the next Grieves (or Hemingway if that’s more your tune)?

Before I go, I ask about Grieves’ raunchy new clip, Gutz, a track unlike any of his previous releases.

"Gutz is a negative relationship with lust. It’s being addicted to the wrong things. That shit is intoxicating, those people are intoxicating! Just like drugs, when you’re in it, it’s so good, but it leaves you fucked afterwards. It was weird and uncomfortable but I kept listening to it and we fell more in love with it. Tackling such a cliché subject, for me, in such a bizarre fashion was fantastic. I think it’s scaring the shit out of a lot of people, but that’s fine! The imagery is graphic, it IS weird but I haven’t let people sit on the fence about this one. People either love it or fuckin’ hate it. But, also, this is my career! I’m not ashamed, embarrassed or self-conscious about it; I want this out there. That’s what it is.

Finally, from the Break-up King's point of view, is there any truth to the old cliche that nice guys finish last?

"I dunno, that’s a tough one," he muses. "I guess, occasionally, I think that nice guys are picking the wrong races."

Grieves assures me he’s "finding a way" to come to Australia. Until then, focus on you, sit with the discomfort, pick up a pen and check out Running Wild, out Friday 25 August.