quADRY, COVERED

Interview by Jinx.

An Uber driver from Arabia told me Quadry means good news. If you ask my mother, she’ll say my first and middle name, Quadry Malik, means a king born on Sunday. Dad was the one who told her that definition. He died in 2017, two years before I signed a six-figure record deal. 

Prior to signing, I was optimistic that, as a rapper from Baker―a city in East Baton Rouge, Louisiana―I could make money through music. When I got signed, I knew, definitely, I can get rich rapping. After I got signed, I realized this business isn’t as easy as I thought. I had to reevaluate my relationship with money. Them zeros can be deceiving. 

Then I got dropped.

Malik Ruff, my debut album, was released in 2018 through the company I was signed to — Brock Korsan’s Sunset Beach Recordings. Black Boy Machine Gun was the original title when the album focused more on Black male angst. 

As the music moved from political to introspective themes, I chose to change it. 

Thematically, I thought about the album as a movie based on my life story up to that point. I think about all my albums like they’re films and Malik Ruff is the character that I’m playing in the music. 

Critics were kind with their acclaim. Bandcamp said my voice, “called to mind Isaiah Rashad with a dash of Love Below André 3000.” 

Complex described my music as, “southern hospitality surrounded by shadowy death, where Boosie shares space with Pink Floyd.” 

DJBooth chose the headline: “Meet QUADRY, the Baton Rouge Rapper Who Might Just Be the Best Rapper.”

Their support assisted in spreading the word that helped me go from a former McDonalds employee to a budding rap newcomer. Then I got my deal, got my money, and was living in Los Angeles working on my sophomore album and what I thought would be my major-label debut, They Think We Ghetto. 

I learned a valuable lesson during that time. 

In 2017, Brandon “Jinx” Jenkins, who was the Editorial Producer and News Anchor at Complex met me at Sycamore Studios as I was working on Malik Ruff. I played him some songs that made the album and songs that didn’t. Although it was our first time meeting, I felt he understood what I was saying and the vision that I had for myself. 

This year, on July 23rd, two days before the independent release of They Think We Ghetto, Jinx called me. 

Jinx: I’m curious, are you thinking about the path you’re embarking on? Are you thinking about the hurdles and challenges? 

Quadry: Coming from Baton Rouge, so deep in the south, people don’t know what to do with that. We are more complex than most people are led to believe. 

Jinx: I can understand the complexity here. One is introducing people to something they might not know. Also, on the other side are people who have an idea about Baton Rouge, but not the side you’re presenting. You want them to know you are from somewhere multifaceted. 

It sounds like you’re doing that for Baton Rouge and for yourself. 

Quadry: Exactly.

Jinx: We’ve all gone through a global, world-altering event over the last two years. People are changing.  So how about you? What do you want to do with your art? Who is Quadry now?

Quadry: When I started working on They Think We Ghetto, I had just signed to Warner Records. I was renting a home in Los Angeles, had studio equipment, and was in that house from August 2019 to May 2020. 

When I came back to Baton Rouge, it was like everything went to shit. I changed managers, A&Rs, there’s no major label. The only people who survived the wreckage of me being dropped were my engineer, Tyler Page, my main producer, Tev’n, my creative director Edny Jean Joseph, and my guy Thomas Garber. 

I was feeling rejected. It made me question if what I’m doing is right. Is this the right type of music to get me where I want to go in my career? Is this the right content? Even down to the title of the album I was second-guessing myself. 

It crossed my mind that, They Think We Ghetto, was a name they couldn’t sell. They can’t promote or market it. 

I had to rediscover my love for music. So, in that time of doubt, I figured out I am an artist — I can’t turn this off. I can’t stop. I dropped Don’t You Weep produced entirely by Jansport J in August. By Christmas, I decided to finish They Think We Ghetto. 

I went back to Baton Rouge, back in my environment. I liken it to RZA when he got dropped from Tommy Boy. He came back home, got all the wildest niggas from his projects, and made a rap group. 

I did the same thing but as a solo artist.

Quadry: I was having a conversation with Caleb Brown about people’s relationship with our music and Black music in general. How we see it, people want to get close enough to see the animal, but they don’t want to get in the cage. 

I feel like that observation is a microcosm of what I went through. Dealing with labels and people that don’t understand where I come from. With They Think We Ghetto, I want people to understand where I’m from, how I grew up, and who my friends are.

By mixing madness with tragedy, awareness, and self-deprecation, I bring them closer to the cage. 

Jinx: You don’t feel that was present on Malik Ruff? 

Quadry: There were hints of it. I feel that listeners are so drawn to sonics, they’re not necessarily listening to the words. When they hear songs like “Bluegrass,” where I’m talking about bone-chilling things, it’s still musically upbeat. 

Malik Ruff was more guitar-driven, and even though the content isn’t as different, I think people locked more into the musicality over the message. 

Jinx: At what point did you decide, I want to do this differently? What’s your why? 

Quadry: I played Malik Ruff in a barbershop. They liked what I was doing because it was creative and honest, but they couldn’t necessarily accept it all the way because I wasn’t speaking their language. That album speaks to the outsiders. 

With They Think We Ghetto, I feel I’m speaking more to my friends and the listener is just observing. They’re ear hustling to our language. 

Jinx: You’re speaking eye level to the people you grew up with.

Quadry: All my favorite rap albums, and all the classic rap albums, you always knew where the artist was from. That’s the most beneficial thing about Hip Hop. You can get your passport stamped by listening to these artists. They can take you to where they’re from.

With music in general, that’s the overall goal, right?

To take listeners somewhere, to help them escape what they’re worried about in their life.