BoomBaptist and the Art of Crafty Self Promotion Schemes: Instrumental hip-hop mastermind sells us his world – Music

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DJ PR bucket: Andrew Thaggard (aka BoomBaptist) shows off some of his freebies (Photo by John Anderson)

His hair combed back in a Macklemorian undercut, a camera flash is reflected in every broad, sparkling grin (teeth noticeably flawless from the glazed donuts that were placed on the table in front of him), Andrew Thaggard looked cool to all the world the picture of a press conference. But when a specific question asked the Comfort Food CEO under a heat lamp, the whole frosting melted in no time. Reporters wanted to know: Did his sugar-filled candies give Americans diabetes?

“THIS IS ALL JUST A CONSPIRACY AGAINST SMALL BUSINESSES,” Thaggard yelled, tossing the coffee mug he had recently sipped from, revealing that it was as empty as the calories of his product. Rather than giving up his corporate credibility, the CEO doubled over with smeary salesman charm, “There’s something in these donuts … the love we put in them.”

When Thaggard spread the satirical video on his social media channels in February, viewers could be forgiven for failing to understand the real capitalist magic trick – one that had less to do with pounding pounds than with moving LPs.

While technically a CEO overseeing the lusciously named Cream Dream Records, Thaggard is no pastry impresario. He’s BoomBaptist: an independent hip-hop producer, the occasional MC, half of the synthwave duo Vapor Caves (the other member is his fiancée), and something of a music marketing chaos agent. In addition to the fake donut franchise – cheekily linked to a beat tape tribute to J Dilla – he’s been promoting records featuring a fake real estate company, fake cannabis mail order hub, and NBA jam game that is so intricately faked that it is actually real.

“He’s developing release strategies much more sophisticated than ‘Hey, new single on Friday,'” says Ben Webster, founder of (iN) Sect Records – which released 2020’s sold-out Boomshakalaka on basketball vinyl picture disc and cassette, the one super. is similar to Nintendo cartridge. “It throws a wide net and brings in people who would never buy instrumental hip-hop, and I’m not sure everyone is ready.”

Indeed, despite the numerous Austinites who have learned the BoomBaptist name through a decade of constant gigs and soon (Thaggard hopes) less constant wedding DJ gigs, the musician’s recent streak of insane PR games has many, even closely related ones , confused industry friends.

“Whenever he talks about what’s happening to him, I just say, ‘I don’t know if I believe you?'” Laughs local promoter Avi Minkoff. “Am I happy for you? I’m pissed? Or am I just waiting to be hit by a punch line? “

So what’s Thaggard’s agenda? Is he just a disingenuous opportunist playing cynically on the internet?

“Yeah, I’ll get the press, I’ll get new fans, but I’ll also lose some people who thought I was serious about going to the NBA or were fooled by my wrong properties,” admits Thaggard – a tight bunch of exhausted frustration trapped in his solemn doggie voice.

To be fair, BoomBaptist albums invite some initial skepticism; detached from the thematic context, their conceptual framing can appear imperceptible acoustically. 2020 collection COVID the Earth, cleared of current track titles such as “Social Distance Dance” and “Superspreader Superbowl”, which are indistinguishable from Thaggard’s other retro-oriented chill-out jams: crisp drums, wavy synths, playful sequences – the airy sound of 16 – a bit of summer, with hardly a Fauci rehearsal that suggests the hellish landscape of last year.

Photo by John Anderson

But ask Thaggard to break down each project and he can justify his intentions right down to the vinyl paint. To call its an “ability in packaging” would miss the point. What he really does is unite, often roll out albums to address serious concerns – about gentrification, consumerism, world health – that frame his carefree product as a sarcastic counterpoint. The luxurious soundtrack to a world gone mad.

“He’ll never say, ‘Oh, haha, wouldn’t that be by chance,'” says Yadira Brown, Thaggard’s musical and other partner since 2013. “He’ll analyze his songs, find this concept and reflect on the millions of ways to spread the meaning . “

“As an independent – and someone who makes instrumental music – it’s a constant struggle to portray myself correctly,” emphasizes Thaggard. “Learning to create characters, create the world of the album, gave me that control.”

Perhaps the most important of these characters is BoomBaptist himself. Thaggard sums up his DJ / Marketman personality as “sheer bravery”, but that’s far from the humble truth of the man himself – a 36-year-old young realtor with “chains hidden underneath” . [his] Collar Shirts “who spent most of the 2010s installing arcade games.

“Every dollar he earns goes all into the next project,” says Minkoff, who also took the time for our interview to ask Thaggard to return the turntables he borrowed a decade ago. “I literally just bought your record and because you have my turntables I can’t listen to it.”

True to his frugal form, Thaggard was telling stories of DJ sets getting paid for with cheeseburgers within 20 minutes of his interview and embarrassedly admitting his fondness for cheap bootleg sneakers.

“You go to this guy’s website and so the authorities don’t catch him going through customs, you technically buy a bra,” explains Thaggard, “but I get the highest quality, completely fake Jordans.”

Not only is Thaggard a true hip-hop hustler, he also plays the role. It took time to learn.

The son of a classical pianist, born in the midst of Venezuela’s Cuatro strings en route to a Miami funk upbringing, is described by all of his staff as an innate musical “child prodigy”. Although he was shaped by explorations in jazz bands and salsa groups, his talents were called to hip-hop by the youthful amazement he felt at the “world-forming” abilities of his classic beatmakers.

But when Thaggard began developing his own production skills, he was always anxious to serve his personal rhyme book (MC-Handle: Thesaurus Rex). Unfortunately, despite years of hectic rushing through the racetracks in Boulder and Denver, the rap superstar always stayed out of the reach of Thesaurus’ pitifully tiny T. rex arms. Shopping beats turned out to be no safer bet – his efforts reached a particularly humiliating low point when Thaggard was betrayed by a fake MF Doom-Connect.

“I was megalomaniac and thought that a song placement or feature would save me,” says Thaggard. “The fact that I kept getting burned taught me confidence.”

Rick James “Fuck Your Couch” action figure

Thaggard names legendary Gang Starr daughter Bumpy Knuckles as the first person to tell him his beats could stand on their own as complete projects, and received similar encouragement (and label support shortly after moving to Austin in 2009 ) from Webster. Still, it wasn’t until 2019 when Thaggard first activated his marketing talent when he conceptualized the first Vapor Caves LP with Brown that Thaggard really believed in it. Almost all of the material the musician has released since then is work he has sat on for much of the decade – including the brand new Lakim split “I’m Rick James, Bitch” https://www.austinchronicle.com/ “Jerry Mane,” for which they have already sold out bespoke Rick James “Fuck Your Couch” action figures – their release is in the wake of a new creative boom that has shown no sign of slowing down.

“He just goes higher, the more confident he has in these crazy plans. BoomBaptist is a whole character now and you enjoy the marketer with the music,” says Minkoff. “He’s going to rob your house, sell you the stuff back, and then you tip him anyway because you’re like, ‘Oh man, this guy is great.'”

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https://www.austinchronicle.com/music/2021-12-03/boombaptist-and-the-art-of-crafty-self-promotion-schemes/