When KAI, a 19-year-old rapper from Chicago’s West Side, sent me his latest EP, Steve’s Demo, he insisted it would blow me away. I was skeptical; I had never met this guy in person. How could he be this sure of himself? But if he was going to come with that type of energy, I had to give it a listen.

In just 13 minutes, the EP establishes KAI’s gift for conveying his experiences in his lyrics. He muses on afternoons spent at the Brookfield Zoo, sends positive affirmations to anyone listening, and even remembers his mother’s demands that he make a sandwich because “we ain’t getting no outside food.” He adds further intimacy to the project through interludes, with voicemails from designer Kim Aponi, his aunt’s rendition of “Happy Birthday,” and a tinny recording of a church sermon.

Sonically, Steve’s Demo blends genres that took root in Chicago, making it a true homegrown project. The EP is neo-soul through and through, but KAI mixes in more fast-paced rapping on “Pilots” and a clear homage to juke on the song’s outro.

The EP follows the momentum gained by Kai this summer. He started off August with a set at the We Outside Fest in the West Loop and closed out the month performing at the inaugural From the ‘Go Fest in Douglass Park. Since then, he’s continued to impress at open mics hosted by the Chicago-based creative organization, Fourtune House. I spoke with KAI about his creative process, the inspiration behind the project, how the features came together, and more.

The project is called “Steve’s Demo.” Who is Steve?

Steve is one of my best friends since middle school. He was one of the first homies I ever played music for, so he has a lot of knowledge of my music. I went to his crib one random day, and he said he took a tab. He was like, “Bro, you haven’t played me music in a minute.” When I was at school, I was doing some of the best songwriting I had ever done. I was writing all these songs, but the idea was that they would just be in my phone. I just wasn’t in the right mindset to drop a project. I had a lot of anxiety from dropping my last project. I ended up playing [Steve] “Pilots,” “Brookfield Zoo” and “1008 Babies,” and he lost his mind. He was like, “Bro, you can’t let these songs sit.” I knew the songs were hard, that it was gonna be something that had people talking. I just had to get the confidence boost. Steve was like that punch in my back. I like the whole mystery behind “who is Steve?” That’s why I didn’t put him on the cover or in a lot of the promo. [People] thought it was my car.

Right, the car is on the cover. You mentioned recording and mixing this album in your car. How did that go?

I have a loud living situation. I have loud-ass siblings. I had to do what I had to do. [I] was in the rain waiting for the rain to stop so I could record my parts.

The first time me and Senite met, I pulled up on her to record in the car. She told me a month later, “I thought you was gonna kill me. I was scared as hell.” I didn’t realize how weird it sounded to be like, “Yo, we can record in my car.”

It’s not as hard as you might think; you just gotta put the work in. I took my headphones and bought a few mics, and bought some cables to hook up to the radio in my car. I recorded my parts, the reference parts for people singing on it. Mixing is go-by-go; I let the song play, see what to put where, what to take out. And I play it in AirPods, Beats, JBLs, car microphones, just to make sure it sounds right everywhere.

What’s the significance of the 1008 on “1008 Babies”?

1008 is my Nana’s address (“My nana raised me, I’m my Nana’s baby”). It was kind of like a love letter to that time in my life, me and my cousins being at that house all the time. It’s funny. People think when I say, “We’re 1008 babies,” I’m pushing it as a group thing [...], but it’s really just me talking about being there with my cousins.

Shockingly, it’s been a lot of people’s favorites. I think they like the intimacy of the song. They feel connected with me. I guess they get a piece of me that they know now.

You have an interlude from Kim Aponi at the end of “Pilots.” How did you connect with her?

“Pilots” is inspired by Kim Aponi. “The pilots know the directions; the pilots know everything.” The pilots are Chicago creatives. When you have someone that you look at as a pioneer —you trust them with the creativity—just as much you trust a pilot flying a plane. It’s also the pilot that’s in your head, that’s steering your own creativity.

Me and my whole camp, we’ve been fans of hers for a year going on two now. My close homie Cohen Waters, he works with Kim now. Without Waters, I would have never met Kim. I had just met [Menace4Hire], who’s also in that camp, and he sent her the song. I didn’t even have the beat done for her part at the time. I was just like, “I want to get Kim on this somehow.” She FaceTimed us after, we talked, kicked it, a couple of weeks went by, and I finally asked if she would put a voicemail on “Pilots.” Three, four weeks later, she sent it.

It was just love, real organic. Even with her being in the place she’s at and moving the conversation forward on Chicago creatives because she’s a pioneer, she shows a lot of love. “Pilots” was a song where I was like, “We can blur the line between music and clothes.” A clothing brand can inspire a song just as much as a song can inspire a clothing brand, and [Kim Products] definitely inspired me.

Who else is featured on the project?

I put Senite on the first track and let her rap. She’s a raw-ass rapper, but most n****s don’t know that. I don’t think a lot of them ask her to be on their songs. But Senite can bar up! Then I let her do her singing thing on “Pilots.”

Menace, that was [his] first time rapping ever. I knew he could rap, so I was like, “Put this n**** on the song, let them hear Menace!”

More generally, what’s your approach to collaboration?

I’m a fan, bro. I’m a fan of everyone. Some of my friends are like, “You can’t be fanning out,” but nah! Semira Truth, she just dropped a project. At one of my open mics, I said on mic, “Yo, shoutout Semira Truth, me and my n****s is fans of you.” And that sparked a conversation between me and her.

We should have the conversation about being fans. Everybody wants to be in their own pocket, which is so lame. I just don’t believe in it. If I don’t have management or a big fanbase, what’s the other route I can take to get my shit out there? Let me collab with these other n****s trying to do the exact same thing! Once we knock the pride and ego out and it’s just about the music, that’s when we’re gonna do better as a scene.

Gayun Cannon is another one. [2021 single] “Cookout” wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t slid into her DMs and said, “Yo, I’m a big fan of you. I want to make music with you. I made this beat specifically off a song you made.” Sparked a conversation, sparked a friendship. We recorded “Cookout” and have been friends since then.

What were some of the inspirations for the project?

[Steve’s Demo] is a descendant of the 2012-2016 Chicago mixtape era. Innanetape, Telefone, Bucket List Project. That’s like one of the biggest flags I’m waving as an artist currently. We birthed that [neo-soul] shit. Common is really from Chicago. He is one of the legendary GOATs of neo-soul. It’s my favorite genre. That movement was crazy. From D’Angelo to the Roots, Common, Wale, Slum Village. I could go on and on.

At that time in Chicago, they had the festivals, the people, the connections. We don’t have that right now. It’s harder now to make it than it was five years ago. I know if I was 18, 19 at that time, it would be so much easier to blow.

Why do you think that is?

I remember watching interviews about Chicago, and they would talk about “Chance and them Chicago n****s,” doing neo-soul stuff. I think if “Steve’s Demo” was out at that time, people would’ve been like, “There goes another n**** that sounds like them. He’s just as hard.” It’s different now, a lot of them have moved out of the city. I feel like after “Coloring Book” dropped, everybody just left. Everyone was like, “I think we got everything we got from Chicago. Let’s leave.”

Everybody used to be fans of each other, and that’s how they got to where they was at. It was always Noname on a Mick track, Vic on a Mick track, Saba on a Noname track. Since they’ve gone up, we can make the next [version] of that. We have to start by putting pride to the side.

N****s don’t know how to take heed of what’s happening right now in Chicago either. They look at their hometown like a letdown. If I’m only doing shit in Chicago, this shit is trash. But then it’s like, “where you gonna start at?” You gotta start here, bro.

On Being a Fan & ‘Steve’s Demo’: A Q&A With KAI