Cadence Weapon wants us to remember what it means and feels to create
Photo credit: Matt Wallace (@citizenblitz)
Cadence Weapon has spent much of his career examining the systems that shape how we make, consume, and understand culture. His latest album, Forager, looks to vintage fashion and classic hip-hop as parallel forms of creating, while his new essay collection, Ways of Listening, considers what we lose as our relationship with music becomes increasingly mediated by streaming platforms, algorithms, and technology.
That conversation will continue in Calgary this month, when the Edmonton-raised rapper, producer, and author joins BUMP Festival's conference programming for a discussion on what it means to create something "human" in the age of generative AI.
Ahead of his return to Alberta, REVERIE caught up with Cadence Weapon to talk about the inspirations behind Forager, preserving more intentional ways of listening, the devaluation of music in the streaming era, and why defending human creativity is more important than ever before.
REVERIE: You've had a busy year with the release of Forager and your new essay collection Ways of Listening. Looking back, what conversations were you hoping each project would spark?
Both projects speak to the value of craftsmanship, whether through vintage clothing, classic hip-hop or deeply appreciating music. They're also both deeply human projects in a tech-driven age: Forager primarily features live jazz instrumentation, while Ways of Listening examines the importance of human curation.
Photo credit: Matt Wallace (@citizenblitz)
REVERIE: Forager draws inspiration from your experiences working in a vintage shop in Edmonton and you also touch on the evolving culture surrounding thrifting. What first inspired you to revisit that chapter of your life, and what made it feel like the right lens for this record?
I've really fallen in love with fashion history over the past few years. Back when I worked at Divine Decadence in the early 2000s, I wasn't a thrifter at all. In the last couple years, I've overhauled my wardrobe to the point that 85% of my clothes were bought secondhand.
The more I got into the ephemera of clothing and fabrics, the more it influenced my artistic process. I started seeing a parallel between fashion designers building a collection and artists making an album. The retro feel of Forager and the classic hip-hop elements felt synonymous with the higher quality workmanship I would find in vintage garments. They felt like they were part of the same conversation.
REVERIE: Many of the essays in Ways of Listening explore how we experience music, from nostalgia and record collecting to race and technology. What drew you toward those themes, and why did now feel like the right time to write about them?
I had been noticing a real hunger for older methods of consumption when it comes to music. A friend of mine was posting CDs she would buy at the thrift store on her Instagram stories, people I knew were getting into music genres that peaked 25 years ago. There seemed to be a desire for a more tactile way of engaging with music again. At the same time, I felt an urge to commemorate the past that I grew up with as a clerk at HMV in West Edmonton Mall in light of the streaming era's ephemeral nature, particularly for a younger generation who might only see music as a backdrop for content creation today.
REVERIE: Across your music, writing, and public commentary, you've often explored how culture changes over time. What's one conversation about the industry and/or music/creativity that you think isn't getting enough attention right now?
I don't think the general public grasps how much music has been devalued by streaming in such a short period of time. A handful of companies have shifted public consciousness to the idea that music should be free and those who create it don't need to be compensated for their work. AI has supercharged this impulse to a grotesque degree where not only are they stealing from musicians, but they're turning around and profiting from what they've stolen by facilitating derivative works.
Photo credit: Matt Wallace (@citizenblitz)
REVERIE: We're excited to have you at BUMP festival this year as part of their conference! The panel asks what it means to create something "human" in an era of generative AI. What are you most looking forward to discussing with the Calgary audience and what makes you drawn to this topic?
To use one's own human mind to create something is a radical act today. I've always made art from a place of curiosity and that is becoming an endangered way of thinking.
This fight for human creativity has become a crusade for me. I'm excited to engage with other folks who believe in what we're capable of doing without tech augmentation.
As someone who grew up in Edmonton, does returning to Alberta for events like BUMP offer a different perspective than speaking elsewhere? Are there any spots you're excited to hit up while you're here?
I'm planning to go thrifting and catch up with some old friends. I love the way it feels to be back in Alberta. It's a particular warmth that I don't feel anywhere else, it's always an inspiring time for me.
