Keiyaa Breaks Down 12 Perfectly Produced Songs

The Producers is an interview series where our favorite artists discuss their favorite music production.

Whenever I press play on Keiyaa’s largely self-produced 2020 debut Forever, Ya Girl, a cult classic of modern alternative R&B, I’m always bowled over by how her beats can be so full and so brittle at the same time as they breathe life into her stories of romance and Black femme reclamation. Built from stacked synths and sampled loops, her production can be spacey, soulful, or deep-fried for your local underground rap beat set as needed. On Forever, Ya Girl, these sonic and emotional threads bound together to form a patchwork tapestry of a Black twentysomething who knew every nigga was a star and was determined to shine bright through all her troubles. Her recent sophomore album Hooke’s Law—named for the law of physics directly tying an object’s force of movement to how much it’s being compressed or stretched—charts out her next steps, in all their confidence and anxiety. 

“Something I learned between Forever, Ya Girl and Hooke’s Law is that there’s no #healed,” Keiyaa says. “Forever was so successful, I was like, ‘Oh yeah, I fucking did it. I healed, and here’s my reward for being healed,’ right? But Hooke’s Law immediately says, ‘Nope, life doesn’t work like that.’” There’s been plenty of heartbreak, trauma, and musical metamorphosis to unpack in the five years between albums, but the increased ambition that comes from making such a splash on your first try made her even bolder behind the mic and the boards. 

“Devotions,” a bouncy highlight on Hooke’s Law, is a perfect example of the album’s fuller and moodier palette, the syrupy bass and strobing synths that define the second half doing all it can to rock the boat. The beats for three other standouts, “Make Good,” “Lateeee,” and “Motions,” were all made in the same weekend as she was processing several situationships, and one particularly serious relationship that had gone south. She began incorporating early demos of these songs into her live show, and, combined with the creative spark that came from her recent stageplay Milk Thot, the rest of Hooke’s Law came together shortly after. The album also incorporates some new musical elements into Keiyaa’s style: jungle, drum’n’bass, flecks of industrial and post-rock, trilling flutes, and slatherings of T-Pain and Kanye-indebted Auto-Tune.

While most of Forever was composed with a Roland SP-404 sampler and a MicroKORG synthesizer, Keiyaa made Hooke’s Law with a much wider array of tools: the Octatrack sampler, a modular synthesizer with custom sound patches, and the digital audio workstation Ableton for virtual instruments, drums, and post-production work. Mixed in with the aqueous R&B and beat-scene rhythms from the first phase of her career, Hooke’s Law is charged with enough pent-up energy to slingshot a boulder around the sun. Here, Keiyaa breaks down some of the sounds and songs that influenced its creation. 

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Kanye West: “Say You Will” (2008)

Producer: Kanye West

Keiyaa: Honestly, I had a hard time choosing between songs from both 808s & Heartbreak and My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. But 808s sounded like nothing I’d ever heard before. I had never heard those types of beats with that type of R&B done by somebody who technically couldn’t sing but was very melodically inclined. Even the way he’s screaming, “Hey, hey, hey, hey!” I’ve been obsessed with this album for 10 years of my life, so of course it’s gonna come out in my music; I didn’t consciously realize it when I was making my album, but someone pointed out to me that “Break It” sounds like “Love Lockdown.”

Music that sounded like really big emotions really struck me during my adolescence, and Kanye is somebody who taught me how to express emotions. But I also learned a lot from how he writes. It’s very matter-of-fact and conversational, but still cunning, and there’s metaphors and riddles in it. The Auto-Tune, the screaming, the melodics, the simple synths, the drums driving the grooves. I miss Kanye, it’s really sad.  

Nine Inch Nails: “I Do Not Want This” (1994)

Producer: Trent Reznor

I love Trent Reznor, he’s really inspiring to me. I eventually want to score films, and hearing his score for Gone Girl brought so much context to that story. The first Trent Reznor thing I saw was “Closer,” which for years I knew as “I Wanna Fuck You Like an Animal.” I saw the video for that one late night at my granny’s house, in my aunt’s room, when VH1 would show the videos uncensored. It was the perfect time for me to see it because I was in my baby-goth-alt era, when my family was hyperpolicing me after they saw me writing “The Black Dahlia Murder” on my Converse sneakers. They were like, The devil is in her. I was more curious about those types of images in that era because they were showing bondage and animal play, and I didn’t know anything about fetishes. But I remember staring at it and being so captivated. 

Sorry to mention this, but I think it gives context to everything: I experienced sexual assault as a small child, so my relationship with sexuality and sex was contorted. In general, but especially for Black children, your path to your sexuality is gonna be… interesting, for lack of a better word. And for me, that extra layer of childhood sexual assault added to it. I didn’t know I had agency or could be curious about sex until, honestly, now. It’s still something I’m working through. I’m holding that child’s hand and we’re going through these experiences side-by-side. Wielding eroticism is already complex, because I’m a fat Black woman that’s a femme, so it’s either jezebel and not respectable, but some people get to be the jezebel, and we love it. But I was like, I am a sexual creature, and I wanna lean into that. I want to honor brown and darkskinned Black women’s path, because we’ve been jezebel’d in every way, from slavery to today. So there’s a lot of layers to the way I explore being horny in my music: It’s for my inner child, my inner teen, and Black women as a whole. Nine Inch Nails, and to a lesser extent, Rammstein, helped awaken that. 

Techno and industrial music is very lustful as is, and unfortunately a lot of men in music are abusers. I learned throughout my adolescence that as much as I love alt, punk, and metal music, I can’t be with the fans because they hate me. I felt like I was betraying myself diving into this scene, but Trent Reznor is one of the few who’s kinda wholesome. I re-realized later in life that Trent is my dude—he’s pro-Palestine, he’s chill, he’s brilliant—and now I can go deeper and learn more about him as a man and artist.

Britney Spears: “Overprotected (The Darkchild Remix)” (2002)

Producer: Darkchild

At the time, I didn’t even know who Darkchild—Rodney Jerkins—was. I bought Britney Spears’ Britney’s Dance Beat for Playstation 2 because it was on sale at Target and I was tired of my brother curating my games; Kingdom Hearts was my only game for real, so I got that game for myself. There’s a story mode in the game, and you start as a girl around the way and audition for a part, and then you just go through Britney’s career. “Overprotected” is a higher-level song in the game, so that’s where I heard the original version. 

One day I was on the computer Googling about music I liked, and I just randomly stumbled across the remix. So now, the original doesn’t exist to me—it’s all about the remix. I put it on my iPod and ran that song for years, but it wasn’t until I was in college and started listening to Brandy’s Full Moon and learning about Darkchild in that context that I realized he produced it. This remix had to be mentioned here because a lot of what inspired my production was music of my adolescence I loved, and this is definitely one of those.  

Brandy: “Anybody” (2002)

Producer: Rodney Jerkins, Brandy, LaShawn Daniels

My mom’s boyfriend at the time used to make fun of me for playing the Brandy song “Full Moon” on repeat, humming it when he walked by me. I listened to that song so much but didn’t really touch the rest of the album until I was 19. I worked at this record store in Chicago called Dusty Groove, and they had us slaving away: restocking shelves, fulfilling online orders, answering emails. Craziness. We used to get to play whatever CDs we wanted, and one day I played Full Moon. When “Anybody” started, I was like. What the fuck is this? Especially when it switches to the jungle drum’n’bass part in the second half. I wasn’t all that familiar with electronic music and thought it was only for the clubs—you’re telling me Brandy put this on her album? That completely busted my head and changed my life. I had assumed it wasn’t Black music for a long time, but once I realized it was, it was over. It just opened up my whole world. 

Missy Elliott: “Beep Me 911” (ft. 702 and Magoo) (1998)

Producer: Timbaland

It’s a lotta beats from that Missy and Timbo era that I love because they sound so funky and fresh. There’s something about the gritty drums on this song, and it being sparse. I really love hard drums, like you’re dropping something really heavy on the ground, like a square wheel. Normally, I’m used to sustained chords, but here, the chords are more suggested by the bassline. It was a lotta that with Timbaland—drums and bassline, and maybe a few chords, but not really. And then Missy implied the rest of the sonic palette through her songwriting. That’s something else that’s distinctly innovative and experimental that isn’t regarded as such.

Fernanda Dias: “Blossom” (2021)

Producer: Fernanda Dias

She is a game developer and composer who’s also a trans woman from Brazil. She develops games from another trans woman from Brazil, and they work under a company called Studio Pixel Punk. The game of theirs I played is called Unsighted. It’s one of those classic pixel-style RPG games where you play a humanoid person on this postapocalyptic planet. Humans have destroyed our own planet, so we’re on another planet looking for resources; they’ve taken so much of the natural flora and fauna that everyone on this planet has a limited time to live. You’re on this quest to complete the story, find the clues, defeat the monsters, but you can see exactly how much time you have until you die. The main character is a darkskinned femme, and various representations of queerness show up throughout the game, and the music is just fucking incredible. I’m not a gamer gamer, but this was one I loved to play because the music is so good. 

“Blossom” is my favorite song in the game. I would go back to that part where the song would play all the time. I feel like this song influenced my flutes and drums in “Think About It/What U Think?” I found some footage of me working out the flute parts, and to familiarize myself with the flute, I was listening to that song.

Michael Jackson: “I Can’t Help It” (1979)

Producer: Quincy Jones

I was in jazz band in high school and a jazz ensemble in college, and my jazz teachers at different points in my life had various relationships with Michael Jackson. In college, it was a white teacher with Black students, and we were like, Yo, we don’t wanna play Weather Report anymore. We were trying to play Robert Glasper and Erykah Badu. But his idea was “I Can’t Help It” by Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones. Heads of a certain age love Off the Wall, and it brought me back to singing because I was playing saxophone at the time, and they needed background vocals. The chords on the song are really beautiful, and learning it was composed by a woman was amazing. I had originally thought Stevie Wonder and his then-wife, Syreeta, had written it together, but it was Stevie and Susaye Green from the Supremes. 

Generally, an album like Off the Wall is something I’d like to achieve. I think jazz is classical music that teaches you how to make pop, R&B, and a lotta contemporary music. You could argue that Off the Wall is a jazz album, in that context. It’s so technically complex and tight and interesting, and I think I borrowed a bit of the melody from this song for “Make Good.”

Air: “Run” (2004)

Producers: Air

My auntie’s two favorite bands were Guns ‘N Roses and Air. This song was really addictive to me for a long time. It almost reminds me of The Nutcracker—it almost sounds like a Christmas song sonically. To me, Christmas music is kinda haunting, but there’s something comforting about the feeling “Run” elicits. It’s another electronic-ear-candy song that inspired the sounds I like to reach for. I also historically love the way they produce and process their vocals. It feels like shoegaze music, which I also love. There’s a coldness but also a sensuality to it that’s inspiring.

Amel Larrieux: “Unanswered Question” (2006)

Producer: Laru Larrieux

I don’t know what the producer’s relationship with J Dilla is, but this song reminds me of that school of rhythm: There’s a beat, but we’re operating behind it. It almost feels like it’s dragging, but it’s not. It’s really just those drums, pianos, and then her voice. I love how sparse and minimal it is. 

I’m forever inspired by Amel Larrieux, but “Unanswered Question” in particular, was a song that taught me how to be a songwriter and how to not write about love from just one of two places: “I need you please” or “I hate this man, but I’ma song about this man I hate.” I almost didn’t realize she was singing about unrequited love. We know the love is unrequited—the question is unanswered!—but you’re singing from such a specific and nuanced state of, What was that? And will I ever know? That’s what I was trying to achieve on every song from Hooke’s Law: How do I get at the nuance of an experience and not have it need to have a neat ending?   

Rei Harakami: “Triple Flat” (1998)

Producer: Rei Harakami

In general, I feel like I’m on this emotional journey with this song. I don’t know where it starts or stops; I can just project my emotions onto the experience when I’m listening to it. There’s just so much power in Harakami’s compositions, so much emotion and conviction. The fact there’s no words almost gives me anxiety because I’m like, I wanna know what you’re feeling on this song, but at the same time, there’s so much power in interpreting it just from the sonics alone. It inspired the part of me that wants to get out the box and be more intentional with my physical and modular synthesis and let the machine have a say in the way the song goes.

Jazmine Sullivan: “Silver Lining” (2015)

Producer: Key Wane

Jazmine Sullivan’s career trajectory makes me think about excellent Black women and the things they have to do. I think about Ravyn Lenae, too, where it’s interesting seeing what they have to go through versus other people. At the same time, you just never know what people are gonna like sonically. “Silver Lining” was a song that caught me off-guard. Before Heaux Tales came out, I appreciated and respected Jazmine’s artistry, but I would usually prefer her live recordings or to see her live. I feel that way about Lianne La Havas too. But as soon as “Silver Lining” starts, the bassline and the drums kick in, I was just like, Whoa! And the jazziness of the chords—it’s not the same chords as “I Can’t Help It,” but I think it’s called modal mixing where you have a major chord, then you go up a minor third and play that as a minor chord and then go back down. That is so satisfying and cool to me. Nirvana does it, Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder do it, and they did it on this song. Those are my favorite chord changes in the world. 

But then it’s also the lyrics. I can’t listen to or sing that song without crying. I don’t know if Jazmine experiences depression or suicidal ideation, but that’s a song where even if I’m not feeling bad, it can reach that part of me that’s in deep pain and sorrow immediately. The funny thing about society is people who need one of those “Live, Laugh, Love” type of posters; this song is my “Keep Calm and Carry On.”   

Aaliyah: “What If” (2001)

Producer: J-Dub

Aaliyah’s self-titled is an album I ran into the ground from the time I was 8 or 9 years old, but “What If” is the one with the guitars and the reverb and the intense drums, too. I loved it because this was the alt era of my childhood, and I didn’t know how the worlds of rock and R&B could mix, unless it was a Black person singing rock music, like Killswitch Engage or Jada Pinkett Smith in Wicked Wisdom. I’d never heard them bring that into the R&B world the way they did with Aaliyah and “What If.” It was another one of those songs that I didn’t realize until now, similarly to Brandy’s “Anybody,” how Black women have been experimentalists informed by a lotta things and never got the credit. And it adds to the tragedy of Aaliyah’s death because she probably would’ve kept going with experimentation. But I’m grateful we have this, at least.