Chiedu Oraka Speaks On Debut Mixtape ‘Misfit’ and The UK Black Experience
Chiedu Oraka - Photography by James Grant
BLK BRIT interviewed Chiedu Oraka, the self proclaimed Black Yorkshireman leading up to his debut mixtape ‘Misfit’ to be released 26th April - a cheeky treat for the last Friday of the month. Chiedu is a prime example of setting the bar high for Northern talent, positioning himself as a premier UK lyrical artist.
We discussed his new body of work, the range of Black stories in the UK, forming your own identity, the importance of coming out of your comfort zone, embracing what makes you different and more. A heartfelt conversation which highlights how Oraka’s experiences fuelled inspiration behind his latest project. Singles already released, ‘Own Kind’ featuring Grime’s elite Manga Saint Hilare, ‘Rhythm Of My Pain’ and ‘Counselling’ are already gaining great traction and an insight into the quality of the mixtape.
Your latest release, debut mixtape Misfit comes out 26th April and you’ve already released a few tracks which I’ve been listening to. What motivated this body of work?
“I feel like I’m in a position where I’ve done the EP’s, and I really want to release an album but this is the tester to see if the demand is actually there. It’s 12 tracks delving into my story so people get to know who I am on a personal level. If this goes to plan, it’s album time, so it’s a strategic plan really.”
With the releases you have out already, in my personal opinion, it already feels like album material.
“You know what it is, a lot of Rap artists in the UK, there’s not much difference between a mixtape now. Back in the day, a mixtape would be loads of unofficial tracks and would be more like a compilation CD really, and maybe do versions of different people’s songs. The reason I don’t think this is an album is because I don’t really feel like I’ve got the facilities to release an album how I would want it to sound. When I do, I want to be locked away for like 6 months in the mountains somewhere (both laugh) just literally me and loads of session musicians. I’d like to be working with lots of different producers and have some singers on there and live musician sessions - that’s how I envision my debut album to be. Not saying this mixtape isn’t a work of art, I’m very proud of it, it’s definitely the best music I’ve ever put out to date, but I reckon there’s another level I can go to, in fact, there’s miles more levels I can go to, and that’s what I want to represent.”
Brilliant. That just speaks to the respect that you have for the craft. You did say you want to be locked away in the mountains but you live up North so that’s close enough! (both laugh)
“Yeah! In the Yorkshire Moors somewhere y’know what I mean like, with the sheep and the cows and that. (laughs) But yeah literally, turn off my phone, no distractions, and would be the proper album mode like. I’ve even got the plans for the album; what I would call it, the whole promo campaign. So this is just like a teaser of the album potential, that’s what Misfit is.”
Chiedu Oraka - Photography by James Grant
With two of the releases that are on there, Rhythm of my Pain and Counselling, two songs that have interesting themes. Not being allured by just fame and money, and music is your therapy. With the titles, it touches on some challenging subjects, especially with Black males and mental health so if you could go into the process of representing that and musically touching on important topics.
“I’m so glad that you picked up on that. Rhythm of my Pain, instrumentally the production of it is quite bouncy and vibey, but I’m actually saying some stuff, d’ya know what I mean. I’m using a club sort of track but I’m spitting some real pain on there which I think is good! My purpose; it’s not just about music for me, I really do this for my community. I come from one of the most deprived cities in the UK to be honest and I feel like it’s important for me to express my message and speak out to the masses to say look at us up here, we’re struggling. I use music as a vessel, especially being a Black kid growing up in a predominantly White city, I feel like it’s important to shine light on that.
That’s my pet peeve when it comes to UK Black music - there’s not enough different stories that get told. People are okay pushing this super negative narrative that all Black kids are drug dealers or consumed by knife crime or in gangs, but where are the different Black stories? I love things like Top Boy, it’s an amazing series and the fact that it has catapulted artists into different areas like acting and the US now knowing about the UK, but not every Black boy is like a Top Boy character! I was a chav growing up, I wasn’t a roadman. I used to wear brands like Henry Lloyd, Rockport, hang around and drink on the streets, fight guys in the pubs; that’s a different narrative. What about the misfits or the Black kids that didn’t grow up in African and Caribbean communities? I represent them people. In terms of counseling and mental health, as you know Black men, we don’t really speak about our problems and issues, so thought it was important for me to be vulnerable and make a song to say it’s okay to talk… I believe everybody could benefit from having counseling, speaking to someone who isn’t a friend or a family member and doesn’t judge you. Even if you’re in a good place, counseling needs to be commercialized like it is in the US and there doesn’t seem to be a stigma around it. On the council estate where I come from there’s a lot of messed up kids with traumatic childhoods who are thrusted into a life outside from a young age. A lot of people were shocked knowing I went to counseling - I was known as popular and quite confident and seem like I’ve got my shit going on correctly but I’m just like everyone else, so the song is to say if Chiedu is doing it, why not?”
I can hear the passion in your voice on the track speaking on the subject. With the visuals for the two tracks you used a black and white imagery artistically which matched the themes. The uptempo versus the lyrics also reflects how mental health feels; you have colours but they are not coming through, my interpretation of it, it shows the undercurrent of things going on. Is that along the lines of the vision in how you wanted it to come across?
“Yeah that’s the theme across the whole tape; it’s going to be black and white. As it’s called Misfit I didn’t want to do anything ‘normal’; what is ‘normal’ at the end of the day? I’m here to celebrate differences, I don’t want to bring out visuals like everyone else. I feel like black and white is the mood of the mixtape. I’m not sugarcoating my words, you either take it or leave it, that’s the energy I wanted to come across with the visuals. You’re right, I wanted them to be artistic but also very raw and honest, so the black and white is a reflection of that. “
Beautifully conveys it. You go into your background, you’re Igbo Nigerian by heritage but you also discussed in previous interviews going to Notting Hill carnival every year growing up. Though I know there were virtually no Black people where you grew up in the UK, English people are slightly more exposed to Black Caribbeans; was that a case for yourself assimilating some of that culture due to being more familiar?
“I feel like that’s a proper London, maybe even… are you a Brummie?”
Yep, Birmingham.
“Yeah, I feel like that happens more in your societies because there was a mix. With me there was nobody. Skepta is one of my favourite artists and he talks about how it wasn’t cool to be African in the 90’s and stuff. I never went through that because it just wasn’t cool to be Black, nevermind that! (laughs). Where I came up, I was the only Black kid in my primary school, the only Black kid in my secondary school, like I’m used to being the only one of one, so that never affected me. I just wanted to be heard and seen and respected for being a Black kid, and I suppose where I struggled is I feel like I always had to tone down my blackness in the spaces that I was in, because I really just wanted to be accepted. Obviously they’d listen to the music and stuff, but in terms of culture no one really cared, I didn’t really feel that I was accepted for being a Nigerian boy so I sort of hid it, I was embarrassed, d’ya know what I mean? Like there were times I’d dress in traditional Nigerian clothes, we’d go to church and be walking through the estate and I’d be rushing home, I just didn't want anyone to see me because I was embarrassed. Friends used to come over and obviously smell the food in the household and they’d be like, ‘Oh, why aren’t you eating normal food,’ and I’d hide it. But now as I’ve grown into a man I love it when people ask me where I’m from. I was born in Hull, but I’ll say I’m Nigerian, that’s what I represent, but it took me a while. That’s why I say I am a misfit because I don't really feel I was understood and still don’t really, where I come from. People are slowly starting to now, but yeah, I am proud basically, but wasn’t always. "
That’s why stories through art are very important because sometimes I feel many people in the UK have narrow views of the Black experience as there aren’t enough varied portrayals, and because it doesn’t fit the majority you feel a second layer of being alienated again-
“Definitely yes! In this Misfit project there are a lot of gems, like in Own Kind I say, ‘Round here [Hull] I’m seen as Black, but when I leave it’s not the same,’ so it’s like the common saying being too Black for the White kids, but too White for the Black kids.”
Chiedu Oraka - Photography by James Grant
I get it, from my own experiences in Birmingham living in a predominantly White area and also studying up North, though they do have ethnic people, you can still feel the differences. Moving on, you worked in pastoral care?
“Yeah I used to; I was a teacher for 8 years, I worked in a Sports PRU (pupil referral unit) for 4 years when I was fresh out of uni. Best job I’ve ever done, I really loved it. I went to a mainstream school after that, and that’s when I worked in pastoral, but it all was to be honest. In the Sports PRU I was working with some of the most difficult children in the city who had been removed from mainstream education, a lot of issues at home, safeguarding as you can imagine. I wasn’t the most academic and got into a lot of trouble growing up as a kid, so they knew I understood the struggles and I personally feel that’s why I got on with them so much. It’s telling when you bump into them years later and they’re still telling you, ‘You were the best teacher ever,’ or ‘Thank you for this time when you did this.’ I still get messages all the time and it obviously makes me feel really happy. I’m so passionate about helping kids who are written off because I was. Kids who aren’t great at conventional stuff like Maths, English, Science but good at other stuff and shining the light on those individuals. It’s not their fault they’re born into a home where their mum’s a druggie or dad’s an alcoholic or around domestic violence, no food on the table and fending for themselves at a young age. I have a soft spot for people like that; you’re talented you just don’t know you’re talented. Sports and the Arts are amazing for that. Hopefully one day I can open my own PRU.”
It’s powerful to see Black men in those spaces - it gives representation and inspiration to those seeing them in these caring professional positions.
“Definitely! The second job was at a school called Andrew Marvell on the East side of Hull, and that's very, very White - I mean, Hull is very White (laughs) it’s like stepping in snow. I always said I felt like a Coco Pop in a bowl of Rice Krispies, y’know what I mean (laughs) but East has like no ethnic minorities. So when I was going to that school, I was like oh this is going to be a mad one like, but I feel I taught them so much and they taught me so much. I didn’t really suffer any racism with the parents and that’s who I thought I’d get it from; it took them a while to warm to me but in the end they loved me. I don’t know what conceptions they had about Black people, but then they just realised oh, he’s just a Hull guy but Black and the barriers came down and was very loved.”
You coming from the area probably helped as you understand the nuances of the micro-culture of Hull, had you been from elsewhere it could have been a lot more challenging. I wanted to touch on the adultification of Black children; from a young age we are told we have to be better, do better because we are different, which is the same story both North and South. It somewhat takes away the innocence of children being so aware; did you find this as a youth and comprehend it?
“Charlene, I knew from very young that I was different. I feel like people who grew up in other cities you have Black areas. Manchester you’ve got Mosside, Birmingham you’ve got Aston, Newtown, London has Peckham, Brixton, but me, I literally were brought up in a White area so I knew from day dot, my mum obviously gave me ‘the talk’ of course, but as soon as I stepped onto North Hull estate I was made very much aware. I could tell you some mad stories, even some of my best mates had to hide they were playing out with me from their parents till they were like 16. But now because I’m the golden boy, Hull’s forefather, Chiedu Oraka, he’s just done South by Southwest… like he’s made something of himself, now they all love me! See me in Tescos, ‘How ya doing,’ and all that. I could be really harsh, it’s mad to say but it’s part of the process. I shouldn’t have to say that, really I should be angry but I’m not. People think that I’m mad that I represent North Hull so much, my council estate in Baringham, but if it wasn’t for there and the trials and tribulations that I went through, yeah it was rough at first with racism, but you wouldn’t get the great music that you get now, see the growth and progression, the making of Chiedu Oraka… You fear what you don’t understand.”
That thread is definitely captured in your work. You have the music collective Lockdown and the label Room 73, how did you form these and venture into music and being creative?
“Lockdown has been a collective since 2005 when I first started making music and messing around with bars, two other members stopped rapping, I carried on solo until producer/rapper Deezkid and DJ Joe the Third joined. So, yeah we have our own studio, a lot of young rappers in Hull come and record there we put on events, put out merch. In terms of how I got into music, I started going to house parties ‘04, ‘05, ‘06 times and freestyle over instrumentals and beats and one of my friends Krafty, an original member of Lockdown he was a local rapper and he was like, ‘Oh, you’re pretty good aren’t ya, why don’t you do it [rap] properly?’ So I did, and ever since then haven’t looked back. I released my first unofficial mixtape Not Your Average Spitting in 2011, I say that’s when I proper came into the game really.“
Chiedu Oraka - Photography by James Grant
Being in the studio is different from live performances, a different vibe for artists, I know you have some coming up. Which do you prefer?
“I’ll be honest with you, I don’t really like the studio. The reason being is I have very bad OCD, I’m too much of a perfectionist. Going back in the day was exciting; I used to love it when the pressure wasn’t on, but now there is the element of pressure and my career’s progressing the way it is, I’m always wanting to do like 100 takes of verses and stuff. I wouldn’t say I hate it but I don’t like it either, it’s not really an enjoyable experience. Where I feel like I absolutely love is live, the stage is my home. If I could miss out the writing and studio and go straight to the stage I would. I love performing for people, talking to the crowd between songs, interacting with people after the gigs, being in the crowd and meeting new people, I love the sweat and the emotion and everything. Give me that any day of the week, that’s what I live for to be honest.”
With this body of work, what do you hope people take away from the Misfit project?
“For me I want this to speak out to the people who may be scared to pick up and pen and write a rap, or go to dance lessons, go to yoga, salsa, or do anything that isn’t classed as ‘normal’ around you. Or like Black people who like anime but scared to admit that, or even someone who is gay that wants to come out- I feel like there is a message for everybody who feels within themselves that they aren’t the same as everybody else and don’t want to do what all their mates are doing like going to the pub on the weekend, or social norms like having a kid with someone you don’t even like but being told you need a mortgage and these things before 30. I’m speaking to all the misfits to give them the confidence to do what they want to do and whatever makes them happy.”
Who are some of your main inspirations and who you’ d like to collaborate with?
“I’m shooting for the stars here but I’d love my album to be produced by James Blake. I’m always gonna rap but like I said, I don’t want to make conventional music, productions that you wouldn’t expect. I’d love to work with another guy I feel like is also a misfit: Hak Baker. I don’t want to chew your ear off, but this goes back to wanting to be accepted. With the Black community I’ve always wanted to be accepted by like the GRM Daily, Linkup TV or Mixtape Madness world, but they don’t really show me love. I’m not going to cry or moan about it, it is what it is. So for me, I’ve got to go where I’m loved like the Radio 6 world, more than like 1xtra which is mad, and that’s how I came across Hak, he definitely makes music that isn’t conventional. But what is conventional Black music?! This is what I’m saying! I had a conversation with [Hak] about this when we were at the MOBOs this year in Sheffield, I applauded him for not conforming, you are just making what you like. I love Little Simz as well, they are just sensational. My favourite rapper of all time is Nas, he’s an amazing storyteller and for the UK it’s Skepta. I feel like what he’s done culturally, he is definitely one of the reasons it’s cool to be African now and stepped into film, fashion. And that’s what I see myself doing, I’m more than just a musician. Music will be the foundation but I want to venture out. Like doing documentaries, speaking to people you wouldn't expect me to like Louis Theroux, I feel I have a strength in that.”
Differences are not just what makes people individual but also makes you able to relate to many intersections of people. Do you feel like the North supports breeding creativity enough?
“No, I feel like this is what’s holding us back. I’m privileged because this mixtape is being distributed by Virgin EMI North which is like the first major record label outside the capital, but it’s 2024. That’s why everyone moves to London to be around the booking agents, A&R’s and labels and the scene. I moved there for 2 years and it served me good stead to be honest. There’s a scene in Manchester and Leeds but places like Hull are so detached from the industry, people there don’t know about the infrastructure and that’s what’s missing. I don’t want to be just that guy, ‘Oh he’s good for a Northern rapper,’ I feel like I’m one of the best in the country in lyrics and performance, I’m up there and I feel like I’m ready now to go to the next level. I just came back from Austin, Texas South by Southwest and that really affirmed it to me to be honest, my dreams are bigger than just the UK. “
Having contact with different situations shows the importance of venturing out and having new experiences. Is that how you came into your identity?
“100 percent! 2007 was the most important year of my life because two things happened; I went to prison and I went to university in the same year. I went to jail, made me realise fuck me, I’m never going to that place again! (laughs). Secondly, uni made me, ‘cause I was ignorant! I was a proper chav like, I just wanted to be with my mates, they were everything to me, I didn’t even wanna meet other people, I just wanted to be on my council estate and go out drinking and that was it. When I was applying to universities my mum made me apply outside of Hull, and I was like, ‘Ah nah I wanna go Hull uni,’ but my mum was not having it as I’d just get back into trouble, and that definitely would have happened. I only went to Lincoln which was an hour away, but what I saw there changed my life. I’m meeting kids from all over the country. I thought they’d be all geeks as I would have said back then, wearing skinny jeans and Doc Martens. (laughs) What am I gonna learn from this experience? I remember I was scared, I actually cried going there. I was getting emotional texts from my friends like, ‘We’re gonna miss you,’ and all that, I’m like an hour away (laughs) but it was like the end of the world, like I’d lose contact with my mates. But it was the best thing that could have happened and I’m still very close to my uni friends who are all so different and opened me up. Going to different places like Essex, Birmingham, Nottingham, Rotherham. Being around different people was the making of me. I left Hull at a good time because when I left, a lot of my mates were going to jail, it was a wild time.
If it wasn’t for that, I don’t know where I’d be- I never came back the same.”