Mixte Magazine

Streaming numbers don’t lie: rap is the new rock. For a few years now, hip-hop has been overtaking the saturated sound of guitars. And yet, the common thread running through Duckwrth’s new, third album is rock. For the artist, who worked with the likes of Childish Gambino, Syd, Shaboozey and Billie Eillish, it’s a way to reclaim the sound he’s been a fan of since his teens, a genre that African-Americans have a complicated relationship to. Duckwrth, whose real name is Jared Leonardo Lee, loves complicated stories, like that of his family. “My father was a musician, a pianist. He listened to a lot of gospel music, Bob Marley, Miles Davis… We no longer talk, but I keep hearing that I owe my gift for music to him (laughs).” On his upcoming album, soberly titled All American F*ckboy (out April 2nd), the 35-year-old rapper makes amends for his toxic behaviour with women. He attributes these break-ups to the lack of a father figure in his childhood. So what if we started from there?

MIXTE. You’re originally from South Central. When people talk about this area of Los Angeles, it’s usually to mention it’s one of the most violent places in the United States. What was it like growing up there?
DUCKWRTH. It was… interesting to say the least! Not exactly the postcard people have in mind when they think of Los Angeles, that’s for sure. But even the uncool stuff I experienced there made me a better human being. It’s a predominantly Black and Mexican neighborhood. A lot of big families, a lot of culture… That neighborhood gave me a story that still inspires me to this day. But it’s true that in the 1990s, there was a lot of gang violence and drive-by shootings. You’d walk down the street and get mugged, and if you fought back, you’d get your face bashed in. Or worse. Early on, I had to learn how to survive in this environment. Now, when someone tries to pressure me, in a business meeting for example, I’m not impressed (laughs). I know a motherfucker when I see one.

M. You enjoy blending different musical styles together: rock, rap, electro, RnB… Has purity in music become a dirty word?
D. I don’t know about that. At the moment, I’m hearing a lot of groups producing very East-Coast-sounding rap, a direct influence of the renaissance period of hip-hop, and we love them for it. That said, I think it’s getting harder and harder to fit artists into these boxes. It’s hard to put a label on myself! I’m too much! I guess we’ll have to invent new categories for guys like me (laughs). On a more serious note, I know that musical genres are important for playlists, streaming platforms or the Grammy Awards… But maybe it’s time to change all that? For example, the backbone of my new album is hard rock. On some songs, there’s guitar and a lot of analog sounds… but it’s still hip hop!

M. You often wear black eye make-up, recalling that of Kiss. Is this to emphasize your rock side?
D. That’s one reference among many, yes. Make-up is interesting. David Bowie, Siouxsie and the Banshees… They had such iconic make-up! As a hip hop artist, I want to be able to play with that too without having to worry about the idea of virility. And this type of make-up is very popular right now in the L.A. punk scene. It’s my little nod to those kids.

M. Your title “Grey Scale” is about a dysfunctional relationship. Is that fiction? Or do the lyrics refer to someone you know?
D. (bursts out laughing) I’m literally talking about myself! This track, and my new album in general, is a kind of essay on relationships in this day and age.

M. Hence the album title, All American F*ckboy…
D. The central theme of the album is my own fear of commitment. I talk about the grief this fear instilled in me and all the crap I’ve done to provoke break-ups over the years: ghosting, gaslighting, cheating… But this album isn’t just a mere inventory. I’m trying to explain why I behaved the way I did. I want to trace a genealogy of these behaviors: my father cheated on my mother, his father before him had cheated on my grandmother… These traumas are passed down from generation to generation without ever being addressed. Having said that, it’s not infidelity you’re passing on to your children, it’s the fear of commitment they’re inheriting. I never witnessed a fulfilling love relationship as a kid. It leaves its mark…

M. Have you forgiven your father?
D. Forgiveness is the most beautiful thing a human being can do. But it’s also the hardest. For me, it’s like a superpower! I’ll forgive my father when he and I can have a conversation. Only, he’s had a series of strokes and now he can’t really talk. We won’t be able to discuss what he did when I was six or fifteen and how it affected me. In the meantime, I’ve got to find other ways of releasing this tension inside me. Because the pain is still there. But with music, I can transcend the traumas. And for everything else, there’s my shrink.

M. How does music differ from therapy?
D. I think music is therapy. Not only for the composer, but also for the listener. I learned so much about myself listening to N.E.R.D. when I was in high school. They showed me, for example, that you could be a racialized guy and still rock. That your ethnicity doesn’t confine you to one musical style, one culture.

M. Was it hard for you to come to terms with your love of rock?
D. White Americans appropriated rock so much and erased its origins so much that Black people ended up saying, “Okay, rock is a white thing. It’s not for us.” And yet, all you have to do is listen to Elvis, Led Zeppelin or the Stones to understand the extent to which Black music was plundered. And that’s why, back in high school my mates would call me “white” whenever I said I listened to rock music. For them, it was a form of betrayal.

M. From that standpoint, opening for Billie Eilish must have been an interesting experience?
D. (He bursts out laughing) My God, the white girls at those concerts, that was something! But I feel indebted to Billie. By welcoming me on her tour, she gave me access to a wider, more pop audience. Afterwards, I started to see all those girls who discovered me on that tour turn up at my concerts.

M. Is “Had Enough” a song about addiction?
D. Spot on. I’m not addicted to any hard drugs, but I did have a drawn-out story with alcohol. There was a period in my life when I’d wake up and start boozing. Then I grew tired of the fog.

M. Getting the party started quite early…
D. Right? Why was I drinking? Probably because I thought it was fun. But also because I didn’t know how to cope with my moods on my own. It was a form of escape. In life, we’re not given the tools to manage our own emotions. At school, the emphasis is on other subjects – math, history… but I would have liked to be taught how to manage my emotions. I’m sure it would save a lot of people from drugs, medication or toxic relationships. Especially nowadays, we have access to everything. The only thing that can stop me is myself.

M. Just like your hero, Pharrell Williams, you’re a musician and also a designer. Would you say that music and design come from the same part of your brain?
D. Absolutely. I can make music and design a piece in the same breath. The only difference I make between the two is that design is perhaps more tangible and music more spiritual. Not in the religious sense, but because you have to feel it first and foremost. For me, music is the most powerful energy in the world. It transcends time and space and travels in a matter of seconds. You can hear a melody three blocks away, and it will take you back to a memory of when you were eight. What could be more powerful than that? As a musician, I feel like a fucking wizard.

M. The theme of this issue is “We will always be those kids”. What advice would you like to give to your inner child?
D. Hmm… It’s a tough one! I was a creative kid. I didn’t hold back. So I’d say, “Keep going, little guy”. I’m at peace with my past. If everything I’ve done before has brought me to talk to you today, it means I fared pretty well.

M. In what ways have you remained a child at heart?
D. Look! (He lifts up his computer screen and shows us manga figurines laid out on his desk: Naruto, Son Goku, Luffy…) I’ve got toys all over my house. My inner child is alive and well. I take good care of him. To be an adult is to be plagued by boredom. As you get older, you have fewer options. What can an adult do in the evening? Go out to dinner? Go to the movies? That’s about it. In the end, our playgrounds are very limited. That’s why, among other things, I’ve got a piano in my kitchen! That way I can create anytime. Just like a child.

Duckwrth‘s album “All American F*ckboy”  (Them Hellas/The Blind Youth) is available on all platforms from April 2nd. 

This article was originally published in our Spring/Summer 2025 issue WE WILL ALWAYS BE THOSE KIDS” (released February 25th, 2025).