Before he got hit by a truck, Lilbootycall didn’t seem destined to
become a rap star. The glasses-wearing, half-Mexican, half-Native
American kid wasn’t the most popular figure in his high school; he
wasn’t even the most popular rapper. He dreamed of becoming a
musician but he was bullied relentlessly for playing the clarinet in
band class that he ended up ditching the instrument in a locker. He
was the perpetual outsider, and by the time he graduated he felt he
was going to stay that way. It took getting run over by that
truck–while riding a borrowed bike to a grocery store job he
hated–to put him on the path to making music. He quit that job,
started making beats in Garageband on his stepdad’s laptop (using
his earbud mic to record his vocals), and began experimenting with how
to fit together all the different types of music he’d grown up on:
his dad’s Linkin Park and Papa Roach, his mom’s No Doubt and
Mariah Carey, and rappers like Three 6 Mafia and Paul Wall who’d
spearheaded Southern hip-hop’s early-aughts takeover of the pop
charts during his childhood. When it came time to choose his nom de
rap, he decided to pay tribute to his lurking suspicion that he was
the “booty call” of his social circle, who his friends would only
hit up when everyone else was busy. Against all odds Lilbootycall
managed to turn all that anxiety into instantly accessible music,
combining emotional catharsis with catchy hooks and a laid-back flow
that feels self-deprecating and nonchalant but legitimately lives up
to its Texas rap heritage. Add in a dash of hazy bedroom pop
atmosphere and you’ve got all the ingredients for “Sailor Moon,”
the breakthrough single that put Call on the map in early 2017,
racking up nearly 4 million plays on SoundCloud with no label, no
management, and no press until Noisey caught on a year after the fact.
Lilbootycall’s first album-length statement was made with real
instruments in a real studio–no borrowed laptop this time–as well
as a lot of real emotion. It plays around, in its own nonchalant way,
with real issues that Call–and so many of the rest of us–also deal
with: depression, bullying, feeling like all the cool stuff’s
happening somewhere you weren’t invited, trying to chat up someone
cute when you’ve got crippling social anxiety. Judging by the DMs
overflowing from his inbox, it’s connecting. In a world full of
outcasts, Lilbootycall’s finally a go-to guy. Before he got hit by a
truck, Lilbootycall didn’t seem destined to become a rap star. The
glasses-wearing, half-Mexican, half-Native American kid wasn’t the
most popular figure in his high school; he wasn’t even the most
popular rapper. He dreamed of becoming a musician but he was bullied
relentlessly for playing the clarinet in band class that he ended up
ditching the instrument in a locker. He was the perpetual outsider,
and by the time he graduated he felt he was going to stay that way. It
took getting run over by that truck–while riding a borrowed bike to
a grocery store job he hated–to put him on the path to making music.
He quit that job, started making beats in Garageband on his
stepdad’s laptop (using his earbud mic to record his vocals), and
began experimenting with how to fit together all the different types
of music he’d grown up on: his dad’s Linkin Park and Papa Roach,
his mom’s No Doubt and Mariah Carey, and rappers like Three 6 Mafia
and Paul Wall who’d spearheaded Southern hip-hop’s early-aughts
takeover of the pop charts during his childhood. When it came time to
choose his nom de rap, he decided to pay tribute to his lurking
suspicion that he was the “booty call” of his social circle, who
his friends would only hit up when everyone else was busy. Against all
odds Lilbootycall managed to turn all that anxiety into instantly
accessible music, combining emotional catharsis with catchy hooks and
a laid-back flow that feels self-deprecating and nonchalant but
legitimately lives up to its Texas rap heritage. Add in a dash of hazy
bedroom pop atmosphere and you’ve got all the ingredients for
“Sailor Moon,” the breakthrough single that put Call on the map in
early 2017, racking up nearly 4 million plays on SoundCloud with no
label, no management, and no press until Noisey caught on a year after
the fact. Lilbootycall’s first album-length statement was made with
real instruments in a real studio–no borrowed laptop this time–as
well as a lot of real emotion. It plays around, in its own nonchalant
way, with real issues that Call–and so many of the rest of us–also
deal with: depression, bullying, feeling like all the cool stuff’s
happening somewhere you weren’t invited, trying to chat up someone
cute when you’ve got crippling social anxiety. Judging by the DMs
overflowing from his inbox, it’s connecting. In a world full of
outcasts, Lilbootycall’s finally a go-to guy.
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24/08/2019 Last update