Nascent Takes His Time
When it comes to discussing Chicago hip-hop super-producers, Nascent’s name might not immediately spring to mind. However, his resume, much like his 6’4’’ frame, is impossible to overlook. Now, with his sophomore album out in the world, the Grammy-award-winning, platinum-certified artist is letting the work speak for itself while sharing more about his personal journey.
With a production style that blends soulful sample chops and warm melodies with a mix of trap and boom-bap drums, the Northwest Chicago native is known to bring out the most introspective and personal sides out of his collaborators.
Nascent’s catalog includes production credits for global hits like SZA's "Good Days" and Kanye West’s "Hurricane" featuring The Weeknd and Lil Baby (the latter of which earned him a Grammy). He also played a role in establishing the sound for trendsetting artists like Brent Faiyaz and Jordan Ward. But the best part? He hasn’t forgotten about the crib, boasting collaborations with many of Chicago’s best emcees, including Saba, Brittany Carter, Chance the Rapper, G Herbo, Noname, and L.E.P. Bogus Boys
His start in the music industry reads like a movie script. In 2009, at just 18 years old, he traveled to New York, operating on a wing and a prayer. With no real connections, he waited outside G-Unit's label office and, by chance, met their head A&R, managing to play some music for him. A few months later, he landed placements on 50 Cent’s album Before I Self-Destruct and mixtape War Angel LP. His determination and grit had kick-started his professional career but also came with a price.
In 2022, after winning the Grammy, Nascent threw a party at his parents' home in Chicago. During the celebration, his mom brought out an old family VHS tape that led to a cathartic moment. Featuring a young Nascent and his parents, it forced him to confront the innocence he had lost while pursuing an unpredictable career. It also resurfaced the pressures he faced early on in proving the validity of his dreams to his parents, especially as a child of Mexican immigrants.
At the time, he was conceptualizing the follow-up to his debut album, Minus The Bullshit Life's Great, and already had a vague idea centered around childhood. However, that fateful night with the tape fully unlocked the driving inspiration behind what would become DON'T GROW UP TOO SOON.
Released in April 2024, the album finds him reconciling with his younger self and giving himself grace. Permeating with nostalgia, it veers into the heaviness of grown-up problems while its production offers a comforting, warm embrace.
As part of Nascent’s mixed-media creative expression for DON'T GROW UP TOO SOON, he also created a monster character to symbolize the fears and challenges that live within us all. The monster can be spotted in the album’s cover art—inspired by the iconic photo of Muhammad Ali knocking out Cleveland Williams, which he commissioned European artist Allleuu to paint—the trailer for the album, and the “Spinnin These Blocks” video single featuring Paul Wall, Maxo Cream, and BJ The Chicago Kid.
These details are analogous to his dedication to his craft as a producer and collaborator. From the sequencing to bringing back proven partnerships like Saba and Duckwrth (on “Don’t Check 4 Me”) to giving up-and-comer Rizz Capolatti a space to shine, he undertook the herculean task of shaping a body of work without contributing vocals himself. And while he didn’t dictate what the vocalists should sing about, with the exception of Ab-Soul in “Take Your Time,” his curation and vision led to a cohesive soundtrack.
After nearly 15 years in the industry, Nascent continues to innovate and evolve, but his formula for success remains rooted in collaboration, authenticity, and a relentless pursuit of creative excellence. We recently sat down with him to discuss the album. Check out the full interview on our site.
I know that the theme for this album was healing the inner child. Can you tell us a little bit about how that concept came to be for you?
It was [during my] first Grammy. My parents brought these tapes they found from when we were kids—there were two of them. So I went and got them converted, and I was watching them, and it just was weird. I hadn't seen myself at that age since…I was probably that age. So it was kind of like a little moment of reflection, a little bit of sadness, too. You forget that inner child.
A little nostalgia...
Nostalgia, but I was also just like, "damn, I haven't seen myself since then." So it made me just kind of go look at shit that I had been pushing away, and that shit was a mess in a closet. It wasn't organized, so it was therapy for me. Also, having a conversation with my parents. Once I started doing that, I was like, "All right, cool, now I can make this album." I always wanted to make this album. It was an idea I had in my head. I just didn't know how I was going to approach it. Once I did that, I was like, alright, cool. Now I can make it because it's a real-life experience.
You introduce this monster character in the cover art, the videos, and throughout the rollout. Who is he supposed to represent?
The shadow that we all have in us, and we neglect it and kind of push him away. But it really is not that scary.
So it lives within you?
Yeah, that's why it doesn't have a name because we all have it. The inspiration came from that Muhammad Ali picture that I posted. It was him knocking out Cleveland Williams, and I really love that picture. I was trying to think of cover art, and the whole time, that picture was there as a placeholder in my playlist for my album. So it was right in front of me the whole time. So I just flipped it. I was like, alright, cool. Set up a boxing ring with a sandbox and kids watching a fight at school instead of an audience. The monster was going to be knocked out. You know what I'm saying? He's either play fighting with him or whatever, but he's there.
Do you work best when you have a concept and trying to shape the songs into it?
Yeah, but at times, man, when you're starting an album, you don't know what the fuck you're doing because you just have a bunch of shit everywhere. It's almost like a puzzle. When you start getting that little board, then you see where you gotta go. At first, you kind of get anxiety because you're overwhelmed, like, "Bro, what am I making right now? What am I doing?" Then you catch a little momentum—at least I did—and I knocked out four or five songs in three weeks.
You're from Chicago originally, but you moved to LA and have been traveling in the past 10 years. Do you ever come to the city back to just record, getting back into that mode?
I mean, not as much as I used to, but I do go to Classick's. The album got mixed and mastered with Elton [Chueng]. I wanted to bring it home to give it that feel. I'm trying to think if I made any music here…I don't think I made any of the beats here except for one, which is the bonus song. But I brought it back home to get mixed and mastered.
It’s also cool that the idea, or what sparked it, was from you being back home and watching the tapes and stuff. What part of the city did you grow up in?
So all my family is from Fullerton and Austin. So East Park. Then I went to the 'burbs for middle school and High School. It was in West Burbs.
With an album like this that has a theme. When you're working with other artists like rappers and singers, do you have any input into the lyrics or do you just kind of feed them the concept and you let them do their thing?
I let them do their thing. The only one that I was really, I want 'em to grasp the concept and really deliver was Ab-Soul. I always wanted him to be on my album, and I knew that lyrically, he could go there, and he's a wizard. He's one of my favorite people and artists. So I didn't come to him until I had the music ready, and I told him exactly what the album was about, and he went in. Everybody else was just like, I let them, they ask me, oh, what's your album about? Alright, cool. But I would let 'em know, Hey, just because the album is about this doesn't mean that the songs have to be that, just do you, and it worked out better. I let them do their thing. Music has to be enjoyable. I don't want to be preached at.
You mentioned that it was therapeutic, but how were you feeling throughout the process outside of that?
It was a little awkward. There was a lot of vulnerability with the rollout. One of the videos was an archival montage video, and it's footage of me as a kid, me with Dr. Dre, Kanye, all these moments, and it's me and my therapist having a session. He came to my house and I recorded the whole session, but I took two minutes of it. It just took the best parts that I felt were important to the story. But that's a therapy session, you know?
Was it hard for you to arrive at that point where you could share stuff?
Yeah, in Black and Brown cultures, therapy and all that shit is looked as weakness. Yeah. Almost looked at with a stigma. So in order to even step up to do that thing and heal that and then to talk about it, then do it how I'm doing it with this album, now it's like a public thing. So it was hard for me to even put, not hard, but it gave me anxiety to put it out. It's like my baby, it's a piece of you, somebody not going to like it. It's art. Somebody is going to tell you they don't like that shit and that's a piece of you, but that's tough. So you need to have tough skin, you know what I'm saying? But that's why it was like at first it's like, oh, your close friends have the album. You have the album. Now everybody has it. Everybody can just do what they want with it.
Does that mindset help you actually get to that point of being able to release it?
Yeah. Also, I'm just competitive, so I'm like, I make sure I took my time with it because I make sure that I'm going to talk shit, but I have to back it up. So the music, I don't got to say shit. People are going to hear it.
What was the conversation that you had with your parents that led to this album?
For me, it was more so my biggest thing was being misunderstood. I'm first generation, my parents are from Mexico. Their idea of success looks like you come here, you go to school, get the education, get a job. Stability and security. You don't realize those things until you get older. You get to that age where you [see] it comes from love.
You have such a wide array of collaborators. How do you foster these relationships that feel very authentic?
At this point, I only work with artists I can invite over to dinner [and] I can actually hang out with. Before, it wasn't like that. I didn't have that luxury. Now I can pick and choose who I want to work with, and it's like I have to be able to have some sort of relationship with you. Music is so vulnerable, and the artist has to be comfortable in order to give you their best. And a lot of times people don't want to work with people who are difficult. As talented as you can be if you're difficult, you are more than likely going to make me not want to do that anymore. So I try to create a space where it's very easygoing and comfortable, and there's no angle. We're going to create and magic happens.