The Red Bulletin December 2020 (UK)

Fantastic Negrito
Taking an
outside chance
The Grammy-winning blues guitarist reveals how
a hard-learnt education in hustling helped score him
one of the most unlikely careers in music
Words FLORIAN OBKIRCHER
Photography LYLE OWERKO
In 1996, Xavier Dphrepaulezz was
bound for superstardom. After being
taken under the wing of Prince’s
former manager, the guitarist had
just signed a million-dollar deal with
major label Interscope – not bad for
a young man who grew up in a house
with 14 siblings, ran away at the age
of 12, and got involved in petty
crime during his teens on the streets
of Oakland, California. But then
life took another U-turn. His debut
album was a flop. Then, in 1999,
a near-fatal car accident put him in
a coma and mangled his strumming
hand; Interscope dropped him.
When Dphrepaulezz picked up
his guitar again several years later,
he had a new mantra: don’t try to
please anyone and don’t chase trends.
He reinvented himself as delta
blues guitarist Fantastic Negrito,
playing raw protest songs, dressing
outlandishly, and making statements
others might find uncomfortable.
This new direction has earned the
52-year-old the Grammy award for
Contemporary Blues Album in 2017
and 2019, and praise from the likes
of Barack Obama and Bernie Sanders.
THE RED BULLETIN: What’s your
aim when you write a song?
FANTASTIC NEGRITO: Basically, every
song I write, I write for my kids.
I ask myself, “What do I want to tell
my kids?” The things I sing about
are openness, equality, healing,
accountability, a little bit of the
middle finger. I think we need all of
these things in our toolbox in order
to navigate through this construct
of society. Most importantly, I want
them to know: don’t let anybody tell
you what you can or can’t do.
Is that a rule you live by?
I mean, look at me! I released my
first Fantastic Negrito album at 46.
People in the music industry, they’re
bean counters. They didn’t get it at all.
They’re like, “Wait a minute, you’re
not a rapper, you’re not a pretty
white girl singing pop.” I didn’t fit
into any of these categories, and yet
here we are. So I like to think that
Fantastic Negrito is for all the people
who’ve been told no; all the people
who didn’t get picked for the team.
So Fantastic Negrito is the patron
saint of outsiders?
Absolutely! Aged 12, I ran away from
home and never saw my family again.
I was living on the street. I was
hustling for food, for water, trying to
find an abandoned car to sleep in.
I was hustling to that mentality of
surviving. I wasn’t hustling to rip
people off – although I did do some
of that – I was mostly trying to eat!
When it came time to create Fantastic
Negrito, I picked up the guitar and
was like, “I know how to do this: you
just don’t take no for an answer.”
What makes a good hustler?
It’s someone who gets things done;
someone who turns bullshit into the
good shit. When I was homeless, I
faked my way into the University of
California, Berkeley. I pretended to be
a music student coming to practise.
I sat there and just listened to what
people were playing, to learn. The
first thing I did after my accident was
lease a grand piano so I could just
clunk with my hands. I don’t believe
in giving up. I’m a lifelong hustler.
How does a two-time Grammy
winner hustle?
I’m still on the outside of things.
People still ask me, “Why don’t you
do something easy, like this ’60s
retro thing?” They’re basically asking
me to make them feel comfortable.
But listen, I don’t give a fuck about
making people feel comfortable.
Being an artist is about confronting
society. Making people comfortable?
That bores the shit out of me. I don’t
care about selling records; what I care
about is liberty as a human being.
What does liberty mean to you?
It’s about not giving a fuck. It’s the
most powerful thing you can do. All
my heroes made their best music
when they didn’t give a fuck, when
they didn’t try. I’m a firm believer in
that. Because when you give a fuck
you lend yourself to this repressed
fantasy that people in power have
of where we should fit. So that they
feel comfortable. Why are we living
in a society that’s openly medicated?
I don’t drink or smoke – I don’t need
that. Because I feel liberated, I don’t
give a fuck. It’s a beautiful thing.
How do you get there?
Through failure and disappointment.
I got there from watching my little
brother killed at 14, seeing him on
the ground with a hole in his head. I
got there from seeing my 16-year-old
cousin in a casket. I got there from
losing my playing hand. But I also
got there from walking the streets as
a kid, trying to find a way. Finding
out who I am, embracing who I am,
then celebrating who I am and, most
importantly, not making apologies
to people for who I am. I don’t need
anybody’s permission, because I feel
amazing. And I want to pass that on
to people who may not feel amazing.
That’s what I want to pass on to my
kids, your kids, your grandkids. I
feel like that’s my mission.
Fantastic Negrito’s third album Have
You Lost Your Mind Yet? is out now;
fantasticnegrito.com
26 THE RED BULLETIN