When I was 19, I was traveling back from one of my first long road trips with a group of friends. I was with my future wife, her sister, and a good friend I had known since middle school. I remember this moment very vividly, because it was about to change the course of my life dramatically. At that point, death was not something that crossed my mind much. I hadn’t lost anyone really close to me yet, and the concept felt vague and nebulous.
A few hours into the drive back to Colorado, I got a random phone call from my sister, someone who did not call me very much. I answered, and her words hit me like a rock.
“Dad had to go get checked out at the hospital, and the scans came back with him having late-stage lung cancer,” she said.
The words echoed in my head as I hung up and tried to make sense of what I’d just heard. Being stuck in the car, I couldn’t run and deal with my emotions in isolation. I had five hours of driving left, and the emotion was already washing over my brain.
At the time, I was listening to an album I’d recently discovered by Intuition & Equilibrium. Their self-titled second release. On that album, the 12th song is a beautiful track called “Imaganing” about the loss of Intuition’s father and dealing with the tragedy of alzehimers and losing the people that we love.
While I thought it was a good song before, the lyrics took on a whole new dimension after that call. Unable to leave the car, I went into myself, sitting in the backseat and slowly starting to cry. I whispered to the front seats, “Can you play this song?” as I handed my phone to the front and clicked “Imaganing”
And as I sat there and cried, I thought about all of the things my dad meant to me. While he was not dead yet, I knew the severity of the call I had just received, and I decided to let my emotions run their course. In the car, we sat in silence as I quietly sobbed, asking to please restart the song every 3 minutes and 39 seconds.
That moment was impactful for many reasons, and I am grateful I had the ultimate medicine of music to help me through it. Fast-forward nearly 10 years, and I had the opportunity to see that song performed live and watch Intuition perform in my home state of Colorado. A full-circle moment that I will never forget.
After the show, Lee was kind enough to stop by the iconic Red Rocks Amphitheater, for his first time there, and do a quick interview for Introspection Section.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Introspection Section: Each time you make an album, you seem to take your time and make sure it meets a certain standard. I often think about the difference between nutritious food and junk food, and I really appreciate that it feels like there’s intention behind what you’re trying to get across with your music. Do you think it’s important to live life and let some time go by between releases? Because I think it was four years for the second album, and then almost ten for the third. So, do you think it’s important to let yourself grow into another project, or do you think it’s important to strike while the iron is hot?
Intuition: Everyone’s outlook on this is a little different. I think if you are a talented songwriter and pop writer, then yeah, you want to strike while the iron is hot and get to people quickly, not let the buzz fade. But for me, I’ve never had aspirations to be a pop artist. I’ve never wanted to be a huge artist. I mean, maybe that sounds like a cop-out, but for me, I’ve been a hobbyist who’s been lucky enough to build a little following.
And so I kind of go with where life takes me. I actually have another record that came out in 2007 that I don’t have online anymore. Then I took three years and put one out in 2010, and I took four years and put one out in 2014. And people were like, that’s crazy. But for me, I was making music the whole time; it just takes me a while to finish it. And then after the 2014 one, yeah, I just kind of thought I was done. I thought that was the best album that I could make, and I got in my own head and had really bad writer’s block for a long time.
Then I was dealing with a lot of life. My dad was dying. I met my wife and got with her, and we’re building a family. And I was making money doing content curation, and I got pulled away from being in front of the camera. Kinda Neat was doing well, and a lot of companies were hitting me up to build music programs for them.
And so, I was like, all right, I’m going to pivot. I figured out a way to stay involved with music without having to write it. And, for me, I’ve never made any money with rap music. It’s not a glamorous life. So when I started making some money doing content curation, I was like, all right, this is scratching the same itch as an artistic project.
And so I just kind of thought, yeah, that is what it is. I tried, and I failed, and we’ll move on. But then, after all that stuff settled down. I had a kid, and he started school. That was really the catalyst. Once he started school, I wasn’t caring for him 24 hours a day anymore. I had like three hours to myself. I started writing raps in those three hours. And then he got to pre-K, and I had six hours to myself, and I’m like, oh, I can market an album now. So, yeah, having a family really changed my priorities, and it gave me a lot to write about for sure.
And I think a lot of it has to do with boredom too. You know, we moved to a new place, and I’m away from my friends. I’m away from the scene I was a part of. And I’m older, and I’m just bored. So I walk my dogs and write raps, and whatever comes out, comes out.
And I’m not pressed for any timeline because I’m not trying to make music that’s of the moment. I’m just making music that means something to me. And, when you make something that means something to you, it accidentally ends up meaning stuff to other people, too.
Introspection Section: So, you’ve worked with Equalibrum for much of your career? You’ve also said you guys are actually a duo. As a rapper, how important is it to have a strong relationship with the producer when you’re making a project?
Intuition: I don’t know how important it is for everybody, but it is for me, and it is because Mark and I met when we were young. We were both transplants to a small California city when we met. He was from Connecticut. I was from Alaska. There’s no reason we should have ever met, but somehow, when I put a demo CD in a record store in Santa Barbara, he got hold of it and emailed me. And he’s like, “yo, you’re tight. I make beats.”
When I went to his house the first time, I met him as a 21-year-old. I was like, “yo, we’re going to get famous.” It was the first thing I said to him. This is exactly what I was looking for. I had never met somebody who made beats that sounded like the actual shit I listen to. You know what I mean? And he was looking for a rapper to work with. And it was just instant chemistry between us.
-Intuition
At a certain point, it’s always been branding. I wanted a sound, and he wanted a sound. So we created a sound together. And then it’s also just comfort. He’s like a brother to me, and we really speak our own language with each other. We have this kind of psychic connection now. So, for me, it’s important because we’ve worked together for so long that I don’t think either of us could tolerate anyone else at this point.
Introspection Section: You have a unique point of view as both a journalist/media platform for artists, and an artist yourself. Do you feel like it is important to be an artist before being critical of music as a journalist?
Intuition: That is a really good question and a tough question. I have never considered myself a journalist because I’ve never even taken a journalism class. And honestly, I think it’s unfair to call me a journalist. I was more like a PR dude, in a sense. I had artists on that I knew I liked and wanted to show in a good light.
So I was never trying to do critical think pieces about artists. I was trying to go, yo, this is somebody whose music I like, and I want more people to see it. I think the blog era is a good example of that. So, when I think about music journalists doing hard-hitting work, I think that stuff is very important. People who can look critically at something, dissect it, and talk about why it is or isn’t good. That is a talent I don’t have. I only pushed the things that I liked and tried to stay away from talking shit about the things I didn’t.
What journalists do at Pitchfork or Passion of the Weiss, places that are doing hard-hitting stuff, is very important. I don’t think that you need to be an artist to be critical. I think that, like, if you’re a human and you listen to music, you can have an opinion on whether it’s good or bad. Where it gets iffy sometimes is when there can be a lot of inherent racial biases with criticism. Sometimes it can be uncomfortable or just completely wrong takes when a white journalist is dissecting something from the black culture that they don’t understand. At that point, I feel like it is important to have critical voices within the community that can speak on things.
Intuition
Introspection Section: The new album touches on fatherhood a bit and the importance of passing on good lessons. Do you have a favorite piece of advice from “Read after Burning?”
Intuition: Yeah, it’s definitely: read books, meet people, be curious. I think that’s a mantra I’ve kind of taken on. I’ve realized that the things that make me happy are reading a ton and talking to everyone. Even if you’re not like them, it’s still important to meet people and talk to them because that’s what helps you understand people better. That was a whole lesson of Kinda Neat. I got to talk to like 200 people for an hour and have these amazing, deep conversations.
Introspection Section: Yeah, I really loved that it was not genre-bound. Anyone could be on there.
Intuition: Yeah, I pictured a listener like me going, okay, if you like rap music, you will also like this type of thing. But yeah, I just got to meet a lot of people. And I think that’s important. I think it made me a better human and made me a bigger person. For being curious, you know, that’s never losing the inner child that looks at a big ass red rock and goes, what the hell? How did that get there?
I don’t know, just trying to learn and trying to be a lifelong learner. I think those are three really important things because if you’re curious and you’re looking for an answer, you’re going to be able to find it in a book. And when you meet people, you’ll be able to go even farther into it, you know?
Introspection Section: I heard you talk a little bit about this last night at the show. I think that you said in Salt Lake City there was some crying after the show.
Intuition: Yeah, most definitely. I get a lot of crying at the shows now.
Introspection Section: Yeah, I bet. Well, I lost my father when I was 20.
Intuition: May his memory be a blessing, bro.
Introspection Section: Thank You. Yeah, the song “Imagining” really impacted me. When I first got the news, I was in the car with friends…
Intuition: When you got the news?
Introspection Section: Well, it was when I got the news that he had cancer, but it was also an understanding of how serious it was. I was listening to that song a lot at the time, and I just made everyone in the car listen to it for like 40 minutes straight while I cried. It was very cathartic for me. Probably not fun for anyone else in the car haha.
Intuition: That’s a beautiful story.
Introspection Section: Do you have a lot of people talking to you about the impact of that song or even other songs like “Make Better”?
Intuition: You know, it’s interesting being an artist because I try not to let the kind words that people say get to me too much. Fucking Matt Rife is playing here tonight. I know that he gets messages all the time from people going, “You saved my life with your stand-up.” That guy’s stand-up fucking sucks. So for people to say that to him…
I get a lot of messages that are like, yo, your music saved my life. It did this, it did that. And it is ultimately extremely flattering and humbling. But I just try to keep it moving and keep doing what I’m doing because you can’t rest on those laurels. Being outside, talking to people at shows, and hearing the stories. The stories like you just told me, they all gave me spine tingles.
People tell me about their dad dying or that he has Alzheimer’s, and they’re telling me because this song has held this special place in their heart for so long. They’re tearing up. And I’m a sympathy crier like I’m a sympathy puker. So I start tearing up too. Like, please, don’t fucking cry in front of me. I still got to sell merch. And you know, you hug it out, and you try to just be there in the moment for them.
Relationships on social media are so parasocial now. They have a relationship with me that I do not have with them. I try to recognize that, understand it, and be empathetic. And I also try to not ruin their fucking idea of who they think I am. So I am there to be the voice that they need to hear in that moment. And reinforce the fact that their story is important, just like mine. And I just try to leave them with a good taste in their mouth so that they don’t walk away going like, ” Oh, that guy’s a fucking asshole.”
Intuition
Introspection Section: Let’s talk a little about touring. What has the return been like, and how long has it been since you have been on a tour?
Intuition: So I barely ever toured before I started touring this summer. I really only went on like three tours. I learned a lot on those three tours when I was younger. The last time I actually toured was in 2012.
I think I had this misconception that in order to tour, you had to be in the indie music system. You had to have a booking agent, a manager, and do this, or venues wouldn’t respond. It’s hard to translate that to an agent. It’s like, hey, I know I only have a few followers, but if you book me at these places, people will come out. They’re not trying to hear that. So, yeah, I’ve just realized over the years that if I want to do it, I’m gonna have to do it all myself.
I’ve always managed myself, but now I’m booking myself too. It is a full-time job doing this for barely any return. But it’s very gratifying; it’s good for the soul, validating, and comforting to get out on the road and play shows.
Not to make it all about money, but with the economy the way it is, you just gotta start chasing your dreams again. I fucking have been out of work for so long, and I’m like, yo, I gotta do something to help. I know this is a talent I have. And in my 20 years of doing it, or however long, I’ve picked up some things that I’m able to utilize.
I’m not a businessman, but I understand the infrastructure of business better than I did when I was younger. If you want to survive, pay bills, and make music, you have to become a merch salesman. You have to start a clothing line, essentially. And so that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve just been making the music. Then I make the videos and try to get it to catch on. And, you know, the harder you work, the luckier you get.
Intuition
So touring is a relatively new experience for me as a guy in my mid-forties. But because of that, I don’t think I’m burnt out on it. I’m ten years sober. So I’m not out here partying. I’m literally out here just trying to get from city to city to play the show, keep my voice good, get this merch off, make this money to bring home to my wife. That is the goal.
When I was younger, that wasn’t the goal. The goal was to go out and get fucked up and have fun and party and be debaucherous. It’s a lot easier for me personally to do it as a grown-ass man, even if it seems embarrassing at times to be like, “Oh, I’m a 45-year-old rapper.” Like, that’s crazy. But, you know, thankfully I have a good base. I have a lot of people that come out to the shows. And the music means a lot to them. I’m so happy I can do this at this age. I would have never thought that would be the case, you know?
Introspection Section: OK, last one. You were very clear about your stance on “The RubberBand.” So, you clearly won’t be playing in Arena shows at Patriots Stadium. But what do you make of such a simple statement, Free Palestine, still being so controversial and divisive?
Intuition: I mean, it’s such a heavy thing. At this point, if you don’t realize that there’s a genocide going on, you are either complicit in the genocide or you have your head in the sand and don’t pay attention to things.
You’re just on the wrong side of history. If you don’t think it’s genocide, you are going to be looked at in the future as being part of the evil. Like, Robert Kraft is going to get brought up in the annals of history as somebody who was complicit in the genocide. He’s going to be looked at as a propagandist for Israeli genocide. Like, he’s going to be looked at as the money behind the Israeli genocide.
There’s no two ways about it. And for me, I’m not big enough to where saying any of this shit is going to affect me or my money. I don’t care, and I’m just trying to let people know that I don’t want red hat MAGA motherfuckers following me.
Intution
When you are a white rapper, sometimes people will make these assumptions about you. They’re looking for somebody who agrees with conservative politics or something like that; that ain’t me, man. Like, I’m out here, and I’m very far leftist.
I am not here for the fuck shit, man. I don’t want the wrong people at my shows. I don’t want the wrong people to listen to my music. I never want my intentions to be misconstrued simply because my art isn’t deeply referential to politics. That doesn’t mean my art isn’t political. And that does not mean I don’t have very stringent beliefs.
When I put out that record, I got some messages. “You’re a liberal cuck. Like, oh, my wife is Israeli, I can’t believe that you said on the record.”
So don’t listen anymore. I don’t give a fuck. The main thing is that I just want good vibes among the people who listen to my music and come to the shows. And so I don’t want conservative people at my shows. If that makes me make less money, I don’t give a flying fuck. Because I’m not in this shit for the money.
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