The world of Christian hip hop is entirely different from when KJ-52 (Jonah Sorrentino) first began blazing a path in 2000. With the technological shifts and rise to mainstream acceptance for hip hop, the playing field is broader and more diverse than ever. But for KJ-52, his passion and dedication to his art and his mission have remained constant, allowing him to endure every industry shift.
That ability to adapt is evident with Jonah, the legendary rapper's first album returning to the independent route. The project was fully crowdfunded by listeners through PledgeMusic, a method that has both allowed a deeper reconnection with KJ's fans and proved that his music is still as compelling and relevant as ever. KJ-52 sat down to give us some insight into his independent journey, his perspective on hip hop in 2016 and what makes Jonah special.
What is your heart behind the tracks recorded for Jonah so far, and is there any one track that stands out from the rest? Why?
This is a different process. I'm doing it while I'm fundraising at the same time. I've never really done it that way. Honestly, the one that stuck out to me the most is "Hold On," and it's pretty much because it's so personal. Basically, it's me writing to myself at three different points of my life: childhood, adolescence and 20-something.
Everything that I was doing on the record was kind of reflective or declarative. I was either declaring this statement about where I was, or just reflecting back to where I'm at right now. There are still more songs to finish, but that's kind of why I thought "Jonah" was an appropriate title. It's like if someone goes, "Hey man, what's your name?" and I go "Hey it's KJ, but you can call me Jonah." It implies a little more personal intimacy.
With it being your first independent gig, how does this compare to the label experience?
The basic experience is no different, but everything else? Completely night and day. I feel like the old way of doing things under a label is kind of long gone, or definitely on its way out. The idea of doing these songs in secret and keeping them all hidden, you work on it for a year or whatever, then you drop the project and hope people like it. I think our attention spans are too short these days. Plus, we're bombarded with way too much entertainment, way more media. We've kind of removed the emotional attachment to music in a lot of ways because of it. So, I feel like these independent artists are ways to re-add attachment back to music. The fact that I bring people along for the process, the fact I'm able to just put out so much extra stuff, I wouldn't have had that freedom on a label.
You know, there is a stupid song "Swagzilla" that I wasn't even going to put out. It was from three years ago. I put it out like, "Hey, you can get this for free if you sign up." I did this stupid little edit in iMovie, and next thing I know, the track is taking off! I couldn't have done that under a label.
With Jonah being more personal as well as the switch to independence, you can have a new direct connection to the fans. Are there one or two meaningful interactions which stick out that you'd like to share?
Every fan interaction where is unique, and there are definitely things that stick with me. This just happened to me like a week or two ago. I was walking in the hallway to a locker room at my gym, and a guy who I think that was a little older than me says to me, "You know who you look like?" I'm thinking it's going to be someone like Robin Williams or Liam Neeson, someone I may need to take an objection to. He said "you look like this guy named KJ-52."
I replied, "Yeah man, I get that a lot." He didn't make the connection that KJ-52 was me. I just kind of ran with it for a few minutes, pretending I was someone else. Finally, I was like, "Yeah man, that's me. I'm him, How ya doing?" He freaked out! He was like, "I was going to witness to you about your music." It was just a really odd moment.
Another time, I was sitting in this little play area watching, at the time, my one year old. There was this guy in there assigned to watch the room. I started up a conversation with him. He was a younger guy. Honestly, I don't remember how this came up in our conversation. The guy was like, "Yeah, the only Christian rap I know is this KJ-52 guy." I'd been talking to him for like 45 minutes. It was that awkward moment like, I don't know how to handle this. I start thinking, have I been nice to him? I'm doing like this mental checklist. Have I just ruined this? Nah, I've been fine. I was like, "Yeah man that's me!" The guy was like, "No way!" It's just been bizarre situations like that.
I guess I look like myself, but apparently not enough. I would think I would benefit from not really changing my haircut in the past 16 years. I've kind of kept the same look going.
I've heard Derek Minor has had a huge influence over this project, not only as a feature and a producer, but sort of like a "filter" to run everything through. How would you describe your working and personal relationship with him?
The first time I ever met Derek, he punched me in the stomach, and that's kind of how we started our relationship. As we've crossed paths here and there, I've always dug his heart. It wasn't really until about two years ago when we did a very short tour run that I really started to kick it with him.
That's kind of when I was trying to figure out what my next step was, where to go after Mental, and honestly I was just kind of in a bad place financially, in a few bad situations. He had a different perspective, the type to not mince words in any way. He had a different sound that was not my sound. Not that I was going like, "How can I be that sound?" You put people around you that can challenge you and stretch you, and whether you wind up there or not, it just helps you grow.
It was maybe a year of downloading songs, or if I was in Nashville we'd demo a track or two. Some of it was him trying to go, "I think you should be this." I was like, "I don't know if I can be that." Eventually, we found a middle ground that made sense.
I did a song with K-Drama, K-Drama did the beat, and CANON and BC are on the song. The whole song was because every time I'd play something for Derek, he would be like, "nah bruh." So I thought, I'm going to make a song of basically what he was saying. Still, he was like "nah bruh." So I went and did the song with someone else, and Derek was like "that's tight." He just really pushed me. Certain people you just get along with.
The whole generation of guys that are out now, they kind of grew up on me, or I was like their first initial introduction to Christian rap. So when I find myself working with them, they sort of casually bring up it up. They'd be like, "Yo man, this XYZ album was like the first record I bought, or when I got saved." That's what just like trips me out. It's crazy. I'm humbled.
Switching gears, the whole graffiti journey you've been on--how did that come about? Have you had any favorite projects you've worked on recently?
I've always had a funny relationship with art, because my parents were art students who met in Brooklyn. I grew up literally in an art studio. We had our place in the back. My father was a tile painter, he did murals on tile. That's really where my story in Ybor City began. A lot of times whatever your parents do, you either pick it up and run with it, or you want to rebel against it. In my head, I loved cartooning. I was all about drawing as soon as they could put a pencil in my hand. I also felt like art was the reason we were poor, the reason why my parents divorced, and all these other things I shouldn't have blamed on it.
I hung out with "artsy" types, and I was kind of turned off by the whole thing. Hip hop kind of helped me re-contextualize what art could be. Then going to New York City, seeing the graffiti on the trains or the wall and being fascinated by what these guys could do. There was the outlaw aspect of it where it was all about getting your name out. That kind of re-sparked my interest, but that was before I was a Christian.
I got saved and eventually went on staff with this church. The church basically allowed me to try out graffiti art. They would let me make murals, but everything I did was so bad, it was embarrassingly bad. It was a great little litmus test, right around when I got my first deal. I was just maybe turning the corner and getting a handle on it, then I stopped for years because of touring.
Really, what ended up happening was that I had a really bad year, and I got nostalgic. The church had changed, and the church was embracing it. The world was embracing it. I thought, "Huh, maybe there is something here?" The visual has the power to do things.
If you asked me what my favorite piece is, honestly it's a piece I did a couple months ago which was a tribute piece to DJ Official. I had never done anything that big, and I had never done anything of someone that I was close to. There are so many challenges to that. To step back as I was doing it, it was even kind of therapeutic to help me deal with the grief of what I felt.
That's the thing about art, it's a very selfish kind of thing. The reality of it is often that it's not like you give it away to the people. His (DJ Official's) mom and dad live in the same town. Like, they could come and see it. That was my change. The power of what it is, and not just what I want to express. It's about what helps other people connect.
What do you think has changed in the industry over the past 16 years?
Pretty much everything. I think there has always been quality Christian rap. I think that the idea that it sucked back then and now it's the best ever, I don't think that's really accurate. I think there has always been quality Christian rap, but the problem has been we haven't had the people in the right places. Christian rap struggled on the radio side because nobody wanted to play it. Christian rap struggled on the retail side because nobody wanted to stock it. The internet wasn't there to kind of level the playing field and allow anyone access to anything.
I'll be honest with you, the hip hop generation grew up. That's really what the biggest difference is. Guys that were in their teens or early 20s or 30s were just figuring things out. Now, they're adults with mortgages and kids, or they're pastors, radio programmers, and they're retail people... they didn't abandon the music. They just got older. As the older generation slips out of power, the newer generation takes over, and with that they bring their own way. That's why rap is doing better now.
Something I struggle with is the CHH vs. mainstream crossover, especially the vulgarity found in mainstream rap. How can we find value in mainstream art?
I look at music like I look at people. I can hang out with you, and you can have the filthiest mouth ever, but there may still be something that I admire or learn from or just like about you. Now, do I want to hang around you all the time and just let you speak all kinds of stuff into my head? Definitely not. Can we be casual acquaintances, can we know about each other, can we have a relationship? Absolutely!
That's kind of the way my heart goes towards mainstream music. It's been that way since I came to Christ. I went through a time where I threw everything out, listened to only Christian music... Now I kind of look at things like I look at people. This is what I do for a living, and what I've done for 16 plus years. It would be good to be a student of the game, Christian or not.
One of the other tracks that stands out for me is "Island of Misfit Toys," not only because Marty and Fern (Social Club Misfits) are featured, but because of the relation to what youth struggle with. How much interaction do you have with teenagers?
That song initially came to me from watching a movie, The Perks of Being a Wallflower. There was a little scene where a guy joins the main group, and Emma Watson's character leans over and says, "Welcome to the Island of the Misfit Toys." Something with that just resonated with me, and I needed to make that into a song.
I didn't know Marty and Fern. When I met them, I told them "I think you guys have a similar heart as me," and it turned out they sort of grew up with my music too. So it just made sense to do the song. I come from a youth ministry background. I still have a heart for that kid that feels that way.
At my church actually right now, this is kind of a new endeavor, but I'm basically helping to launch their young adult ministry in about a month or so. Its hip hop based, but definitely targeted towards the young adult. I'm realizing now it can be anywhere between 16 and 40.
I can say it was for the teenagers. In reality though, it hit a much bigger demographic than I ever thought. The concept that you "don't fit in" is pretty universal. Whether it happened in your childhood or it's happening now as an adult, it's still an issue that everybody goes through. I set out with one idea, but ended up somewhere else.
With you turning 41 soon, where do you see yourself in the industry within the next 5 or 10 years?
If you would have told me I'd be here right now, I'd tell you I should have gotten a real job by now! I definitely always felt that there was an expiration date for hip hop artists. Little did I realize that the hip hop generation was growing up with me. I got a better perspective on it when I started thinking about things in my youth. When I was a teenager, I didn't look at Bono (U2), Michael Hutchence (INXS), Sting, or any of these rock bands I'd listen to, I'd never look at them and go, "You're in your 30s or 40s; your music is irrelevant." I just accepted the fact that rock music has been around awhile, and people in their 40s, middle-aged and upwards still do it.
Hip hop was still in its infancy then. What I'm realizing now is that to the teenager that is in the same exact position I was in back then, hip hop is mainstream. So it's not odd for a 40-year-old to be doing hip hop. It's just odd to 40 year olds who do it because we came up in a different generation. The youth may have a different expression of their hip hop and a 40-something year old may be a little less relevant to them, but a great song is a great song. That cuts through everything. I've given up on trying to put an expiration date on my life, because God and everybody arounds me reminds me that it's bigger than me.
Just to be transparent, I work really hard at not looking my age. I'm very conscious of how I present myself and the way I come across. I'm not trying to be a 20-year-old, but you better believe I'm trying to hang lyrically, physically and mentally with a 20-year-old.
Any closing thoughts?
I wake up every morning right now with anticipation and excitement. Something about this album has just renewed my desire to do what I do on so many levels. That's a good thing.
Joshua Galla is a "yinzer" now residing on the eastern side of PA who loves Jesus, being a dad and devout husband and all things hip-hop. Joshua is a youth worker passionate about our younger generation, concerned about being a light for the Kingdom in all he does.
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