Lil Pete Interview
It’s a mild San Francisco day, and anticipation hangs in the air as I head towards Empire studios for a second interview with Lil Pete. A familiar unease creeps in – the worry of facing a rapper with zero interest in engaging with a poorly dressed, white music writer like myself. A sudden urge for confidence, for “drip,” takes over. A quick stop, a Corona, and a daring acquisition of designer shoes later, I felt a momentary surge of liberation, a superficial “glow up.”
The reality, however, remained unchanged. Punctuality was not a shared virtue that afternoon. Photographer late, rapper late, writer slightly intoxicated, and the looming prospect of interviewing someone who’d rather be anywhere else. The studio lobby buzzed with pre-event energy for a Nef the Pharaoh listening party, a stark contrast to the tense exchange I overheard. A tall, animated man’s voice boomed across the hallway, directed at the receptionist: “Can you not keep that door open unless absolutely necessary? Just so people –” before cutting himself off with a more direct warning, “No so no one walks in with a fucking pistol, a lot of things are happening.” This was Empire HQ on a Friday night, San Francisco big leagues in full swing.
This chaotic energy felt like the perfect prelude to meeting Lil Pete, the rising AAA prospect. He arrived in his Friday best, extended a handshake, and observed me with a cool, assessing gaze.
For those unfamiliar, Lil Pete is a rapper and singer hailing from San Francisco’s Fillmore district. His music offers a raw, first-hand perspective on the harsh realities of modern urban life. Gentrification has ravaged his neighborhood, transforming his city into something unrecognizable. At the age of 15, his home was raided, and his parents were arrested, a legal battle they continue to fight six years later.
Sports initially seemed like a viable path, but his aspirations on the basketball court were cut short. Standing at 5’8” and without scholarship offers, the point guard pivoted to rap. Two projects later, he secured an artist-friendly deal with Empire. In the studio, he embodies the trappings of success: a hefty Hardaway chain, Louis Vuitton belt, Balenciaga shoes, and an Audemars Piguet watch – the uniform of a rapper who has reached a certain level of financial comfort. Yet, beneath the designer exterior, he wears the characteristic impassive expression of artists accustomed to the industry’s demands.
His jewelry and high-end fashion are earned symbols of his burgeoning career. Lil Pete’s talent is undeniable – he can rap, he can sing, he possesses a keen ear for beats. He operates seemingly in his own orbit, defying easy categorization. He isn’t strictly a Bay Area rapper, nor an underground, mainstream, or trap artist. Lil Pete is a product of a postmodern, acontextual environment, forging a unique sound that blends guitar samples, R&B textures and rhythms, trap-pop percussion, all anchored by his knack for crafting compelling choruses, hooks, and verses. His lyrics, often vague and depersonalized, touch upon relationships and street life, hinting at the fragmentation of family and community in a city and nation seemingly intent on self-destruction.
Lil Pete’s sound wasn’t cultivated through traditional means – no jam sessions with friends, no studio collaborations, no readily apparent influences. Instead, he discovered his musical direction through YouTube. He scours the platform for beats and sounds that resonate with his artistic vision, purchases them, and transforms them into his distinct tracks. The results are consistently compelling, yet defy easy labeling. His songs often possess an undeniable catchiness, amassing millions of views on the very platform where he sources his instrumentals. Despite the postmodern nature of his creative process, Lil Pete has generated genuine buzz. My own friend Dom’s enthusiastic endorsement upon hearing about this interview is a testament to that.
Lil Pete doesn’t create music for critics or any conventional audience. His target demographic is defined by the cold, calculated algorithms of YouTube – the same platform that fuels his production. This YouTube, owned by Alphabet Inc., the tech giant whose shadowy, monopolistic practices are a driving force behind the relentless gentrification that has decimated his community and turned San Francisco into a neoliberal dystopia.
Yet, regardless of the undefinable nature of his music, Lil Pete’s talent is undeniable. He possesses a unique rhythmic sensibility, often slinking around the beat, placing syllables just before or after where you’d expect. Take “Honest,” the lead single from his album Hardaway. The track exemplifies his ability to find melodic pockets that dance around the percussion, dictating the song’s tempo. It’s a downtempo Trap&B reimagining of artists like Drakeo or Blueface.
Since my first listen weeks ago, “Honest” has remained stubbornly catchy. Everyone I’ve played it for immediately recognizes its appeal. It’s a standout track, and another single with similar impact could propel Lil Pete to wider recognition with the right push. Hardaway approaches greatness. It’s an enjoyable, replayable album from start to finish, showcasing his versatility across melodic pop-trap, downtempo guitar sample rap, and a modern take on 90s G-Funk. He maximizes features from Dej Loaf, BabyFace Ray, and Yung Pinch, and effectively conveys a sense of lonely despair amidst themes of street life and designer fashion. However, this despair, hope, success, and hustle are communicated without specific details, and without a personality forceful enough to make this lack of specificity a notable characteristic, rather than a shortcoming. Yet, I can’t fault him for this guarded approach.
In an age where public vulnerability is expected, not just from artists but everyone, the emotional labor of constant self-exposure is immense. Imagine the toll it takes to lay bare your most intimate moments as a major label artist, across albums, Instagram, and interviews with eager, fast-talking writers who can never fully grasp your lived experience.
Following a phone interview that resembled a Bill Belichick press conference in its level of engagement, I find myself in San Francisco, perched on a rolling chair as Lil Pete settles into a couch. Our conversation begins.
Growing up, who were your favorite basketball players, Lil Pete?
Lil Pete: Kobe or AI. It was AI and Kobe. Yeah for sure.
Were you a guard?
Lil Pete: Yeah. I was Point Guard or Shooting guard.
Were you good at basketball?
Lil Pete: Yeah, I was kind of good. Actually before my rap I was supposed to play junior college. But, when I was, what, around 18, I signed up for school and stuff to go play. I was training that summer, to go play, then that fall, that’s when I started making music, then music started to work out for me. So yeah.
If you’re actually playing sports at that level, I used to surf, I used to travel for it and stuff, I know you’re doing it every day.
Lil Pete: Oh yeah, fasho, I used to be in the gym every day. Training.
Do you think that discipline from basketball helped you with rap?
Lil Pete: Yeah because, I worked hard in basketball. I was used to working hard. With the music, I just kept working at the shit.
It’s interesting cause it sounds like you didn’t grow up in a super musical household. You didn’t grow up playing instruments or anything?
Lil Pete: Ah, nah. Nah man. I grew up around San Quinn. Me and him are from the same neighborhood, and like, I seen, but I never really had anybody from my immediate family who was rappin, or doin’ music so. I had basketball player families, and football player families, but I never had music in my immediate family.
That’s crazy cause the culture around basketball and football is so much more conservative, then you come into hip-hop and it’s like no rules.
Lil Pete: It’s different, I kinda get sidetracked a lot, I try to stay focused, cause it’s like you said, it’s no rules, so it’s like: a lifestyle of a rapper is gonna be a lot different from somebody playing basketball, playing sports.
What do you get sidetracked with, Lil Pete?
Lil Pete: Just life, period. The schedule of it. My studio sessions are at night time. I record from 9 pm til 5, 6 in the morning. Just the hours of it and stuff, it’s different. It’s your hours basically.
Yeah, but you have, you found a sound, that was cool.
Lil Pete: Oh yeah for sure for sure.
I like how you combined the traditional rap flows with the melodic stuff and the guitar beats and whatever. Did you have an idea for it or it just came to you?
Lil Pete: Nah, it’s kinda just like me, me listening to other music and like being open to other genres of music. That’s how I came up with my sound. I take a piece from every genre.
What genres do you listen to besides rap?
Lil Pete: I listen to r&b. I done listen to reggae, listen to pop, I done listen to all types of stuff.
When you signed your deal and stuff, did you know life was gonna get crazy?
Lil Pete: It’s a partnership deal so it’s not really like I’m like “siiiiggnnned” so it’s basically like a 50-50 where I still control everything but they just like help me out and connect the dots for me. But I mean like as far as the partnership, it’s going good, these interviews is new to me.
Yeah I can tell you don’t like dealing with the media bullshit.
Lil Pete: Nah, I like dealing with it. I know people wanna learn about me.
You gotta interesting story, the whole Fillmore stuff, SF’s a city that’s changed a lot since you were a kid. How has the Fillmore district in San Francisco shaped your music, Lil Pete?
Lil Pete: Mmmm-hmmm.
I know you probably don’t wanna speak on it, but how did it impact your music with the whole situation with your parents?
Lil Pete: I don’t know, it just gave me drive, to keep going and don’t give up, ’cause like they still watching, so it’s like.
They heard your music?
Lil Pete: Oh yeah for sure.
Did that situation with your parents affect your basketball career?
Lil Pete: Kinda, really, cause it was like, I had to be realistic, like keep chasing my dreams with basketball, ’cause, I didn’t get a scholarship or anything, so it just would have been me chasing my basketball dream, going to a junior college, grinding for two years, then getting a scholarship to go to another college, so, basketball takes a lot. So I was like man, I gotta find something, do another job. My mindset was if the music doesn’t work, I’m gonna have to get a job.
That’s good you didn’t get the face tat, these kids nowadays don’t wanna get a job so they get a face tat.
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