Elucid on the Music He Wants to Soundtrack His Funeral
The Queens-born rapper/producer speaks on fatherhood, the joy of celebrating life, and the nooks and crannies of his album I Guess U Had To Be There.
Existential Playlist is an interview series where artists tell us about the music they want played at their own memorial service, delving into some of life’s biggest questions along the way.
Near the middle of “First Light,” the smoldering opening track to Elucid’s latest album I Guess U Had To Be There, the Queens-born rapper-producer shares a fleeting thought that sums up his entire existence as an MC: “You might catch me talking to my wounds / Somebody lyin’.” Both solo and as one-half of Armand Hammer with billy woods, his writing carries the weight of Black history with an attentive approach buttressed by the raspy husk of his baritone. He can recreate the anxiety of the Orangeburg Massacre at South Carolina State College in 1968 and wire-wearing snitches smiling in his face while “[believing] in Black people believing” regardless of his skepticism—all with the intricacy and flair of jazz legend Laraaji’s hats.
I Guess U Had To Be There—produced entirely by Swiss “sound scientist” Sebb Bash, as Elucid refers to him—continues to find meaning in the pains and triumphs of Black existence, especially as a 40-something husband and father of two. On “Make Me Wise,” a trip to Home Depot for gardening supplies is accented by immigrants displaced by ICE raids and a government “pairing propaganda with pie in the face.” Elucid’s childhood memories of Queens mall The Colosseum and visions of singer Donny Hathaway “crooning with iridescent wings” from the hotel balcony where he took his life in 1979 crowd the corners of these songs. But so do the echoes of Elucid’s kids wishing him “Happy Daddy’s Day” for a month straight and the thought of making his wife smile when he comes home from tour. Bash’s beats are as frenetic and prickly as Elucid’s bars, and together, they hit the sweet spot between experimental and accessible.
Be There is a record couched in both joy and suffering, which is why I wasn’t surprised when, during our conversation about what songs he’d like to be played at his funeral, Elucid corrected me quickly: “First, I wouldn’t even call it a funeral. Let’s start there. This is a homegoing.” Because of his unflinching approach to world history and unshakably collectivist politics, Elucid has gained a reputation as a doomsayer and nihilist. But he finds a pastel happiness in what he’s built for himself: a career where he gets paid to speak his mind, where he can support and nurture a family, where he can share inspiration and energy with generations of other artists working to insure and platform a brighter world. In lockstep with this, his five picks are among the least traditionally funereal of any I’ve seen in this series.
Get access to everything we do at Hearing Things—including weekly album and song recommendations along with our ever-growing archive of interviews and reports—with a free 30-day trial!
