Kevin Abstract talks new album 'Blush', returning home to Texas & life after BROCKHAMPTON • Interview • DIY Magazine

Kevin Abstract is musing over what ‘Blush’ feels like. He uses the title of his new 18-track album like an adjective, slathering the soft syllables into his gently spoken responses. The hazy gleam of his project showcases the earnest moves of a heartened curator — an artist standing behind the curtain of his own hometown exhibition. Sincerity is the nucleus of Abstract’s cinematic heartbreak saga. He pulls friends on board (including the likes of Dominic Fike, Quedeca, Love Spells and JPEGMAFIA), which colours the release with lush, movie-like production, clean falsetto vocals and BROCKHAMPTON-esque beats. It’s a soundtrack to a world he hasn’t fully quite pieced together yet, but you can feel its beginnings emerging.

“I felt very betrayed, just like a lot of friendship breakups during that time. I felt very lonely, very low,” he explains, nodding to his decision to return back to his home in Houston after a particular period of upheaval. “My beard was longer than it is now – I looked like a madman. But once I arrived in Texas, I was like ‘it’s not as bad as you think’, even though I was still suffering,” he says over Zoom, the digital window closely framing his face and his jet-black zip jacket, which has bold white letters spelling out ‘Blush’ on it.

It’s early afternoon for the singer, whose real name is Clifford Ian Simpson. His laptop pings repeatedly with text messages, which he gently apologises for (“sorry about this going off, my bad”). His MacBook camera sits fixed on his face, moving as he speaks, like a director panning across the screen. It takes him a while to relax into the call, admitting he’s on a bit of a press run. “I just did an [interview] with Zane Lowe, also over Zoom. I’m not used to those,” he says, pulling his arms into his side. “I prefer doing it in person, but there’s something that feels intimate about this kind of setting; it reminds me of some of my internet friends I had back in high school, and the only way we could talk and create things was through FaceTime or Facebook chat or something. I’m trying to get into the rhythm of it.”

Internet culture is an intentional thread that feeds into the singer’s work: he met ‘Blush’ collaborator (and Houston-born) Love Spells after a bold DM over Instagram, while half of the BROCKHAMPTON crew came together, in 2009, after he made a call-out on a ‘KanyeLive’ forum. The rapper thoughtfully weaves his projects around what he’s looking for. On his last studio album, ‘Blanket’, he gushes about being in love to the sickly sweet tune of pop, while crunchy, raw rock ballads bring a sense of catharsis. This time, Abstract’s work - unsurprisingly - seeks out camaraderie. On ‘Blush’, it feels like he’s yearning for a digital hug, falling back on his collaborators to lift him up. “It’s like I’m trying to make my own version of Hollywood in Texas,” he clarifies.

After a devastating break-up which uprooted most of his social life, Abstract made a snap decision: to shove all his belongings into his Jeep and start driving to Texas. His mind reeling, he admits that when things get tough, he tends to return home. “I was trying to reconnect with different sides of my past and my life,” he says. “I’ve been living in California for the past nine years, and I had this heavy heartbreak moment. Two summers before that, I was breaking up with BROCKHAMPTON, and then I found a new squad and new love life but, then, another breakup happened the following summer. I was over Los Angeles, so I was like ‘let me go back home and find myself again’; I packed up my Jeep and drove to Texas.” Spurred on by emotion, the rapper pulled out his go-to playlist while heading back. Comprising over 624 unique songs - totalling up over 38 hours of playback - this mega-diary of music is aptly called ‘Pieces of Me’. His latest additions to it include ‘Sick Dogs’ by Psycho Realm, ‘A Dream Goes On Forever’ by John Glacier and Vegyn, and ‘April In Paris’ by Ahmad Jamal. “I add songs to it every day, anytime I hear a song that’s cool - at a coffee shop, at the mall, or when someone at home sends me something. So, I put that on shuffle and drove, drove, drove and drove.”

“I felt very lonely, very low.”

This same sense of journeying has shaped Abstract’s music for nearly a decade. His solo albums - ‘American Boyfriend: A Suburban Love Story’, ‘Arizona Baby’ and ‘Blanket’ - wrestle with his vulnerability. From recalling homophobia from his high-school years to finding closure at a Tyler, The Creator show and surrendering to feelings of love, Abstract has always scooped out his innermost feelings and, delicately, splattered them onto a record. This time, he didn’t want to be the showman, but the invisible hand drawing the chess pieces across the board, quietly curating his next move. “Post-BROCKHAMPTON, that is one of my strengths: bringing voices together. I’m figuring all this out in real time. It made me not take my creativity, my job and my professional life for granted,” he says, reflecting on the creation of ‘Blush’. “I was trying hard not to process anything, which is probably why I wanted to go on a drive and be distracted. Once it started coming together, I listened to a lot of music in my Jeep. I just kept going back to [Dr.] Dre, ‘2001’. There are certain songs where you don’t even hear his voice, but he curated a sound that’s so specific towards him – I was like ‘damn, I want to start carving out that type of sound for myself’”.

‘Blush’ doesn’t feel like Abstract is emulating the sonic ghost of BROCKHAMPTON. Instead, he flips the camera even more intensely on himself. He remedies over sticky beats and vocoder vocals on ‘Maroon’, calling out his anonymous ex, spitting out lyrics at a lightning-fast pace. Its syncopated rhythm feels like an overdue exhale. He whips up his best work on peppy Dominic Fike-laden ‘Geezer’, a blisteringly cool lead single (and now, it seems, the moniker for a new project from the pair, under which they’ve just shared new track ‘Doggy’). The rapper’s fine-tuned production lays the groundwork for witty mumbled one-liners and whimsical, chattering vocals from a new generation talent like Fike.

So, what is ‘Blush’? It’s a rotating cast of musical collaborators; it’s a salve to rejection, a call to homelife nostalgia – an album with which to sink back into your favourite chair, don your favourite hoodie, and shut off the world. At least, that’s what Abstract’s introvert-pilled album artwork tells us. “[‘Blush’] led me to reaching out to a lot of old friends, people I grew up with in Texas,” he recalls.

He equally notes where he previously lived - Corpus Christi, a beach town, and The Woodlands in a suburb north of Houston – was the same location Arcade Fire wrote ‘The Suburbs’ about - but this feels different. “It wasn’t until we announced ‘Blush’ that I felt like this could be an ongoing film or art piece. It could be an ever-changing [project] underneath my name. It feels like I’m in the director’s chair and sitting in the editing room, whether it’s for the visuals or mixing and mastering. I’m very hands-on with it all,” he explains. “I was trying to wrap my head around what ‘Blush’ is and what it can be, but I can see it now.”

While Abstract’s new era has led to some clear-minded epiphanies, he’s been ruminating on the transparency behind his open-ended project, without the safety net of a permanent collective behind him. “The ambition is always going to be pure; I don’t have to chase after that. But, sometimes, it’s hard for me to chase being brutally honest,” he shares. “As I’m writing this next [project], I’m asking: ‘how can I go lyrically deeper?’ I felt like I was being vulnerable without BROCKHAMPTON behind me and that is challenging. It was about being comfortable with getting on the microphone and saying the closest thing to my truth, while still trying to make it something that I want people to listen to at parties and something I want to be proud of performing. Chasing the truth has always been my goal with songwriting.”

“It’s like I’m trying to make my own version of Hollywood in Texas.”

The idea of limitless innovation and lore fascinates Abstract. A self-confessed reader of Wiki pages and album deep-dives, his “obsession” with Andy Warhol’s The Factory inspired him to make his own revolving door of creatives. He credits Chief Keef, Justin Vernon and Kanye’s old music, specifically ‘My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy’ and ‘Yeezus’. “It’s [about] creating new worlds and making the experience feel like a movie, making it feel cinematic, making it feel like when a new character enters the song,” he says. “It feels like they’re entering the frame, or they’re walking on the stage - that’s why I named the first song ‘The Introduction’, because it’s going to feel big.”

‘Blush’’s structure is provocative; it’s not a smooth, seamless tracklist. It can be abrasive and experimental, feeling like a suckerpunch of moodiness and light-touch crescendos. There are sentimental references to belonging, but it’s also a medley of despair, grief, and also survival. “To me, it’s Texas pop because it is all made here. A lot of my favourite Texas rap music, from Z-Ro to UGK, I heard growing up. No matter how big and global those artists were, it always felt underground,” he says. “The sound of ‘Blush’ is Texas pop; it’s like underground pop star music. I love the idea of having Dominic Fike on the same album as JPEGMAFIA. It feels like you can only get it from a record produced by me. That’s what ‘Blush’ feels like to me – the possibilities are endless and the creativity is always at an all-time high.”

The hue-toned world of ‘Blush’ is becoming a clearer picture for many, including Abstract. His follow-up release - which he cryptically calls “Blush 2”is on the way. He doesn’t give much away, though: none of the names from the new project’s clique are shared, but the rapper hints at wanting to get more intimate with his listeners. “I can be quite social, but also, I can freak out and become small, so there’s a difference. I don’t know how to describe the difference, though, other than the fact that there’s almost like two different types of creativity, to me, and two different types of performances. Both are extremely valuable,” he says. As for creating a thrumming new release, he ponders why he’s continually boomeranged back to Houston. “I was thinking about that the other day. It’s like my soul is tied to that place. It’s not like I’m running away. [There’s] something about Texas skies, the friends that I have had here since I was younger, who have never turned their back on me; it just feels like my family.”

Indeed, ‘Blush’ is also a release that sees Abstract return to collaborate with school friend, former bandmate and BROCKHAMPTON member Ameer Vann, who parted ways with the group in 2018 after a series of abuse allegations. After previously saying the ensuing fall-out around his departure was “a wild thing. Something you think about every day,” in a 2020 interview with GQ, Abstract recently called their creative reunion “difficult” in a conversation with podcast host Zach Sang. When DIY followed up our initial interview with an additional question regarding their work together on ‘Blush’, we did not receive a response before going to print.

“The possibilities are endless and the creativity is always at an all-time high.”

There are moments when Abstract comes off quixotic, his demure expression lighting up with possibility. He advocates for his art, but also notes how he distinguishes the life of Kevin Abstract from Ian Simpson. “It’s just easier to live life and treat my work like it’s work. LA just feels different,” he thinks aloud. “I love Los Angeles, I want to die there, but I needed to find a place where I could make this album. Anytime I’m going through a traumatic moment in my life, I end up coming back here to Texas; this has happened throughout my entire career.” The 29-year-old speaks fondly of Houston, but as if yearning for American Dream escapism. “When I was a kid, I’d be watching MTV and it was like ‘I want to end up on that screen. Whatever’s happening on MTV, I gotta be in that city - I want to end up there’. I think it’s a lot of nostalgia wrapped into the idea, and it is kind of silly,” he recalls. “I would hear my friend’s parents tell their kid ‘your grandparents are retiring in Florida. Palm trees and peace, you don’t want to be in Texas no more’.”

The Wizard of Oz likeness to ‘Blush’ is endearing. For Abstract, there’s no place quite like Texas, but it’s not the end of the yellow brick road, either. He has his companion playlist and reliable friends to get him through his emotional hardships. But, more than that, he wants to leave his trace behind him, his style and director’s vision. Often, the musician leans back on advice given to him by Grammy-winning producer Jack Antonoff: be specific with your single choice, and be ready to play it for the rest of your life.

Abstract’s innovation doesn’t feel cyclical, but he is hashing out unflinching lyrics. He’s no longer eulogising himself; he’s moving forward, now with a greater sense of direction. So, what has he learned as a nimble-minded, tender musician? “Damn, that’s hard, because I reached out to a lot of different artists that I’ve been able to meet throughout the years to try and get their opinion,” he laughs. “I’m gonna say something so basic. The last thing I heard recently was ‘have fun and don’t overthink this moment’. I needed to hear that, because I’m always overthinking when it comes to putting music out… but it works.” ‘Blush’ is out now via Juno.

‘Blush’ is out now via Juno Records.

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