John: Welcome to National Sawdust!

L.A.: Thank you!

John: It’s really exciting to have you here!

L.A.: I’ve performed here before, but for the August Labs, it’s really exciting to be here.

John: Tell us about yourself, as if you were talking to a new fan who’s never heard you before.

L.A.: Sure! Well, my name is Latasha Alcindor aka L.A. LA is my initials, of course, but back in the hood they call me LA too. I grew up in Flatbush, Brooklyn. I grew up not thinking I was going to be making music, I grew up thinking I was going to be a journalist or a lawyer–all that fun stuff your parents tell you you’re going to be. And then I fell in love with hip-hop around 16 after a good friend of mine passed away, and I started to write poetry in regards to my relationship to hip-hop, and feeling all these weird feelings about hip-hop, because I’m so in love with it, but the culture has had a lot of issues with, of course, women and well, issues in general. But I felt like it spoke to my life. So I started creating plays and poetry, surrounding that, and then one day a good friend of mine named Tony Polo hit me up and said “do you wanna be on a Cipher? I’ve heard your poetry, your rapping’s pretty good!” and I said “Poetry’s not rapping!” and I got all defensive about it, right? And then I was like, whatever, I’ll do it. So I did the cipher, and then that day, everyone was like, oh my god, you’re a rapper and you don’t even know it! I thought it was a joke. So I kept joking about it, and doing these songs. I ended up on a good friend of mine’s mixtape, and it ended up on all these websites and blogs and it was going viral. There were so many comments about me, like “oh my god, she’s going to destroy Nicki [Minaj]!!” And then I was kidding again, right, and I said “Well, I’m going to make this mixtape.”

John: When was this?

L.A.: This was about 2011. All of this was like in a year, literally. I was like 21, right out of college. I was just out of Wellesley University. I thought I was going to get out of there and be normally employed. My mom was all, “GET A JOB!”, you know, mom shit, and I worked at a very prominent bank that I don’t want to talk about. I hated it. It wasn’t me. I got a lot of anxiety and depression during that time that I was working, and also trying to live what I love.

John: You were still rapping while you were working.

L.A.: Yeah. I was working a 9-10 job, some days. It was a lot. And then after, I’d try to go to a show, and try to do something with my music. So, I was kidding, and I told my homeboy, “I’m going to make a mixtape, and it’s gonna be off Kanye’s beats, and no one’s gonna tell me nothin’.” I was totally kidding. All of a sudden, I did this mix tape, and we did a film for it, and it went super viral. I was like, oh snap. I was just kidding. From there, I was getting all of these calls to do Rocwear in Jay-Z’s commercials, and then I got calls to open for Big Sean. And then I was opening for Kanye West, and Q-tip. It was so much jam packed in a year. And I didn’t even know myself as an artist yet. I was just making to make, right? And then life happened. In 2012, I struck some sort of chord within my being that I wasn’t happy with who I was, and I kind of lost myself for a bit as an artist… and a human being, as well. I had to kind of reconstruct who I was at that point, and this was also during the times that Trayvon Martin was happening, and a lot of things that I wanted to talk about, and didn’t want to voice, because it was difficult to do that in the space of hip-hop sometimes, because people don’t want to hear that. Especially people of color who are living this day to day. It’s difficult to talk these stories out in music. So, I had to figure out my way to do it, and through 2012-2015, I figured out my ways. And here I am, giving you guys my next project, called Blak.

John: I’d love to hear you say what you were expecting from the August Labs experience. What project you’ll be working on, what support National Sawdust is going to be giving you, etc.

L.A.: Well, the project I’m working on is called B(la)k. It’s supposed to symbolize L.A. in BK when you read the wording. The project is an immersive multidisciplinary project. It includes an album, but it also includes this beautiful performance piece utilizing theater and spoken word, but also using my music, band, and DJ. It’ll be a full experience. I’m trying to tap people into my experience and how my experience as a micro has affected this macro experience that has been going on within the black community. And not only the black community, but people of color in general. I’m going to talk about the dynamics of it all, and talk about the surroundings that are kind of encompassing children, especially young adults and millennials, and how we’re viewing everything right now. The effects of growing up in Brooklyn, and watching the shift happen in Brooklyn. There’s a lot of talks about gentrification, about racism, about police brutality, violence. It’s heavy. But it’s about overcoming trauma, for the most part.

I’m really excited, because it’s a project for healing. It’s a part of a 3 part project, which National Sawdust is also helping me with. I’m so grateful, because National Sawdust is so beautiful, and is the perfect place for exactly what I want to create. I want this to be a project to speak to women and to people that have never been able to tell their story in this way, and hopefully inspire more people to tell this experience of growing up in New York… or growing up wherever! I don’t care. Just tell your experience, because experiences are history. I don’t really care for textbooks. I care about what people are telling you, because that’s where the real history lies.

John: What is the August Lab?

L.A.: It’s basically a few days of me being in the space and working through my project, without anyone here of course, and getting a chance to work with the lighting and projections and the stage and bring my band and my DJ here to actually create the whole experience. Then the last day, we have a workshop day, where I bring an audience in and they actually watch the whole show. We have a Q&A discussing the project, too. This is really just fueling how to shape my project. It’s so young still, so I’m really excited because this will help it for its release in 2017.

John: How valuable is this to you as an artist?

L.A.: We never find spaces like this in Brooklyn. It’s so difficult to even get a grant to work through your project or any of the sort. I’m very grateful to be able to say that “okay, I have two full days to do my show” and just sit here and work through the kinks before anything.” Like, I workshop in my basement apartment, you know? And that’s not… this. Obviously. I’m just really hyped to really see the vision firsthand, you know?

John: Let’s kind of shift back to you. You opened for Big Sean and Kanye. Growing up, you’re listening to these guys, and all of a sudden you’re on stage right next to them.

L.A.: Oh my god, it was incredible. It was right during the time that I started rapping, and that’s all that I was listening to, was Big Sean and Kanye. I literally remember being like “this is not real right now. This is not happening.” I’m a huge Kanye fan, and I really always told myself that we’re gonna sit in a studio, and talk about life, and just create, you know? So being on that stage during that time was incredible. And they’re beautiful people, too. It was really important for me to have that moment, because it really just let me know that bigger things are on the way, and if I can do that at such a young age as an artist, what’s next? I’m just trying to be Beyonce, really. *laughs* It really just struck a chord that a higher power has an amazing affect on your work if you’re really living in your purpose.

John: Was it what you thought it would be? Playing was those guys?

L.A.: I didn’t even know Kanye was coming to the show until the day of. I went crazy. That’s a big show, too, that’s a BK Hip Hop festival. Kendrick was there as well, and a ton of other people. It’s like “whoa. I was just rocking on stage with all of these beautiful people that I listen to on the regular. You know?” It really fueled me to just continue to do what I’m doing. I’m living my dream. These waves of moments, you know, you’re gonna get crazy peaks, and then you’re going to have other spaces, and you have to just be in your happiness within all of it, you know? I had to learn that the hard way, but it’s cool to learn.

John: So let’s talk about your art. Especially now, in such a racially charged environment, you’ve had a lot of success with your art, going viral, but now the BLM movement is very central to who you are.

L.A.: It’s always been central. I was an African American studies major, and my focus was black arts and performance. I’ve been talking about this since I started rapping. But that was the complicated thing. Because when I started rapping, all of these things were happening, and then nobody really wanted to hear it. It’s now that people are like “LA’s been saying this for five years!” It really takes you aback. And I’m not trying to say that I’m the first person to talk about this, because all the people that I listen to have been talking about this, and I feel like it’s necessary. Your art speaks to your life, you know? I don’t like to call myself a political artist or an activist or anything like that, but I really think that I just want to talk humanity. I want to talk about being humane to each other. And really figure out what that means, you know? Because what it looks like right now: people of color are not called human. How could they be, if they’re slaughtered in this way? That is a problem. So I’m very happy to be a part of this threshold of forcing people to listen to the story, and listen to our dynamics and what’s going on. I’m grateful to have the gift to even do it. People get at trap rappers and stuff… I love them, because they’re talking about their own existence. But I think there’s a need for a balance in telling all of these stories.

John: Do you feel like, having achieved a certain level of success, that it’s manifested itself in having people shared your work. A lot of artists talk about this sense of responsibility that comes with that.

LA: Power is responsibility, right? I know that’s a cheesy line, but it’s so true. I feel like I have to do this right, a lot. I feel like there’s so much mediocre things with hip-hop, and music in general, that are at the forefront. It’s really important to me, especially for black people, to have something of value again. I’m scared that we’re losing our values, especially in our art. It’s an interesting dynamic, right, because at the front is Rihanna and Beyonce, and all these beautiful, powerful black people are in the front. But my concern is the experiences they’re talking about in the front. I would love to find myself in a position where I am around Beyonce, Rihanna, Jay-Z, everybody. But I’m speaking the same things that I’ve been speaking for my whole career, you know, and really giving a voice to that.

John: Would you say that’s your end game?

L.A.: I don’t know if that’s my end game. I know what I see. I see that being myself and telling my story will impact others to do the same. And being honest with it is going to impact others to do the same. And hopefully just strike a chord with people who didn’t know this information, you know? I really want to change their minds. That’s my thing–shift the whole paradigm. I know I can’t do everything…but I want to be a part of it.

John: I think this would be interesting to your perspective–I want to go back to that bank that shall not be named. I always love it, especially coming from a classical background, hearing stories about people in the finance industry that break down and can’t do it anymore. And leave to do something that’s more true to themselves. Because it’s like, we kind of have this idea as artists of pursuing stability. But I think we forget that it comes at the expense of creativity, because we rarely get to have a creative outlet in our profession. Was it even a hard decision to leave?

L.A.: It’s so funny. I left, and then I came back, and then I left again. The first time was the most difficult decision of my life. My mom was having the most panic attacks. I helped my mom a lot during that time with bills, and stuff. I come from a family that worked 9-5’s. It’s either we worked 9-5’s, or we did the worst kind of things to make money. Like, living the crazy life. So I grew up in both dynamics. And I was like “I can’t be a drug dealer.” So it was the 9-5. So that was all I knew: secretary, desk, cubicle. I thought that’s what you were supposed to do to make money. So the first time, I was like “what am I doing?” And I was making enough money from my shows… but it wasn’t enough to sustain me.  So I quit. And I was like “I don’t know what I’m doing.” But the second time I quit, I did know what I was doing. I felt it. I felt that I knew how I was going to make a living doing what I love. At the end of it, the energies in those spaces are not for creatives. Well, a lot of creatives have done it… but it’s not for me. I’m grateful for the experience, because it taught me a lot about my self-worth, and gave me a lot of confidence in my art to jump the gun. Some days I’m like “WHAT AM I DOING?” but for the most part, my partnership with higher power and God has really fueled my fire to continue to work. Because I know that something beautiful is going to come out of it.

John: I get the sense from you that you see this void in communicating the black experience, in terms of hip-hop, that you feel like you can occupy with your talents.

L.A.: I don’t know if it’s a void. I wouldn’t call it that. I think what’s happening is supposed to be happening. I think everybody who’s a part of hiphop right now is supposed to be a part of hip hop. But I do think that there’s supposed to be a balance of stories going on.

John: Between what?

L.A.: I feel like mainstream hip-hop for the most part is giving a confused identity of blackness, that is not really telling of all dynamics in blackness. I feel like it’s, right now about–no beef, I love all this music too–Future and Drake and all these guys are amazing talents in hip-hop, but you’re not hearing the story of the quirky black girl. I guess you are, but she’s underground. You have to search for her. Why is that? Why can’t we have that dynamic in the front also? Why is always “I got to pop my bottles, get money. Get some girls to twerk.” I love all that stuff too. But there’s so much more to this. That’s why I would love to just see that. And you know, when I was younger, I felt like it was a void. But I don’t think it’s a void, I feel like I just have to be it.  

John: One thing I love asking artists that have experienced some success is what you would tell another artist, or even yourself 5, 10 years ago. There’s a fear, right? That you’re not good enough, that nobody wants to hear you.

L.A.: It’s so funny that you call it success, because I don’t even consider it success yet. You know? That’s the joke, right? Everyone tells me about all these amazing things I’m doing, but I’m like “what are you talking about? I still have bills that I have not paid.” To me, success comes in so many facets. But I guess what I would tell people that are trying to approach a next level of ascension–that’s what I like to call it, is levels to ascension–just, be in gratitude. Things are going to get rough here… they do. I’ve dealt with rough times. But what I’ve just stepped back and breathed through it, and just let myself be in my being, and know that my being is creative. And I am a creator, and I have to continue to do that. I find a center, and then I just chill. And I let the opportunity come, to where I am. I don’t really search for them as much anymore. I really just wait for the magic, because I know it’s coming, you know? If anything I would ask other artists to embrace that within themselves. Because like I said, when you’re an artist, you are in partnership with something higher than yourself. All the distractions in the world can’t take you away from what you’re supposed to be doing. So you have to kind of sit and understand that there’s something more to this. Everything else going on doesn’t matter. So that’s what I try to continue to push.

John: Have you always lived with that?

L.A.: OH NO. NEVER. Oh man, I just found this peace. But it’s been a good place to be. But before, you know I come from a family of people that have always worked, always grinded and hustled to survive. And now I believe that I’m just going to survive. Instead of fighting to survive, I feel like we have no choice but to survive. That’s how I live my life. Now I’m thriving. Not trying to survive, but thrive. It’s interesting, because all of these things are happening to people of color, which is terrible. But we’re also being elevated at the same time. Opening up this peace at the same time, you know? It’s chaos. When I watch these videos of men being slain, I was definitely in a mourning state, and I was definitely in grief for a bit. But it also reminded me about being in my center, and being in my creative space. Because that’s where we find our peace. I sat in that, and I reminded myself of what I do what I do. We speak for those people. We speak for the spirits of these people that were slain. I’m at peace with that, knowing that that is my work.

Lauren: I am a creative writing major, I’m about to graduate from college. So what advice do you have for people like me that want to be creative and want to be a part of that world, but are scared to jump off of that cliff?

L.A.: I totally get it. When I was in college, they basically told me that I couldn’t write, and that I didn’t have the skills to write. I went to Wellesley, where there were prominent Prep School kids that came from that background of writing. And I was coming from Public School and didn’t know jack about college writing. So when I stepped in, I was very much scared. I was convinced that nobody was going to listen to what I had to say. But I think that it’s once I tapped into what I loved, and fueled that in my writing… that’s when I just trusted what I was doing. It’s really about trusting yourself and trusting what you love. And that was hip-hop for me. When I started writing about hip-hop in my essays, my scores started to go way up. When I started to focus on what I was interested in, that’s when everything just kind of made sense. I take that to my life now. There was a point in time when I was starting to not feel the same way about hip-hop. Okay, what’s going on, does that mean I have to leave? But with this project that I’m doing here with B(la)k, which is jumping the gun, because it’s like stepping in territory that I haven’t stepped in in a long time, which is theater and making a performance piece out of hip-hop. It’s about tapping into what you really love, and trusting that. That’s what it takes, you know? Lots of prayers. Whatever you do–it can be meditation, whatever. I always tell myself: “This is what you’re supposed to be doing. And nobody’s going to stop that. When you can tell yourself that and believe it–not just say it, but believe it–everything will just fall into place.

John: What’s your favorite performance? A lot of artists have that one show that they were like “Man, I was in my space.”

L.A.: Hmm. So many. I think my favorite performance that I was a part of was an all women’s group performance. It was at Manhattan Inn, and I performed with all my roommates. I remember the show was very intimate – people were surrounding us – the whole time I had to kind of walk in a circle all the time throughout the performance. I remember everyone’s face still being caught up through the story that I just started bawling and crying. It was a story about my mom and our relationship–which I tell in B(la)k–about the impact of your surroundings, and how it continues to relate to your being. I remember crying my eyes out, and it was so powerful and beautiful to be around so many people. My family, my roommates, and know that I was alright. And know that I’m doing the right thing in my music.