Kyron Rashād and don. Join Forces on ATLASTCITY

ATLASTCITY cover art by Trey Karson and Kyron Rashād.

Denver-based hip-hop artist Kyron Rashād dropped ATLASTCITY, his recent collaborative EP with guitarist-producer don., on his 34th birthday. Before I start to get into why this matters, here’s a crucial disclaimer: 34 is not old. Like, at all. But in an industry obsessed with newness and youth (veteran Denver musician YONNAS once likened the music industry as “a puppy mill”), every hard-earned year counts against you. Kyron Rashād, though still a young gun in the world at large, is proof that this youth-fixated music culture is horse shit. A younger man, even a younger Kyron Rashād, could not have put out this project. (Side note for artists pretending to be younger than they really are: If you’re going to lie about your age, remember that time still passes! If you’re 25 for three years in a row, it’s a bit suspicious.) With an easy command of language, Rashād floats over don.’s atmospheric instrumentals, laying his soul bare on his sophomore project.

I fucking love when an MC and producer link up for longform projects, each contributing their own special sauce to the vision. We’re in an era ripe for these kinds of collaborative efforts, from Life Is Beautiful by The Alchemist, Larry June, and 2 Chainz, to the Murals EP from Denver’s own DNA Picasso and Siah Rain’n. Rashād and don., a session and studio guitarist-turned-producer, may seem like an odd couple at first (unless you already know they’re both Midwesterners), but don’s wavy, guitar-forward beats perfectly complement Rashād’s laid-back, R&B-inflected flow. Classic hip-hop drums present throughout ATLASTCITY keep the EP in rap territory, though these aren’t necessarily traditional rap beats (though one could argue there is no single unified “tradition” when it comes to hip-hop beatmaking). Rashād shines on tracks that fuse recognizable elements of hip-hop with signifiers of other genres, as he demonstrated on his 2023 debut project, A Foolish Story About an Imposter (Which is now the working title of my memoir). On his first album, Rashād’s bars hold their own against wailing guitars, thunderous basslines, and delicate piano accents, paving the way for this collaboration with don. 

As a producer/artist/guitarist/general music guru, it’s like don. used the moody, alternative-leaning instrumentals from A Foolish Story About an Imposter as a jumping off point, blending them with his own eclectic influences to create a cohesive sonic compromise. On his recent solo EP Ripples, don. experimented with more major keys and uplifting tones, embracing an overall shift towards ambient simplicity in his production. That simplicity serves Rashād well here, giving the proper space for his words to really hit listeners with full force. Flashy distractions like crazy trap drums, beloved song samples, or shock value lyrics aren’t needed in these songs–they’re substantial enough as is. (And all those bells and whistles can easily come off as overcompensation for a deficit elsewhere, just saying.) Channeling the chillwave/indietronica vibes and the “less is more” mantra of Ripples, don. bestows a sunny sense of levity upon ATLASTCITY, interpolated with shades of jazz, surf rock, ‘90s hip-hop (he’s a big fan of A Tribe Called Quest, whose music directly inspired the beat for “Leap”) and alternative rock (that opening guitar riff on “Moment” is some Nirvana-esque shit). Lightening up the languid brooding that characterized Rashād’s debut, ATLASTCITY is in essence the summer lovechild of Ripples and A Foolish Story About An Imposter.

Ask Rashād which rapper he gets compared to most, and his response is instant: Andre 3000. A Three Stacks comparison is high praise, and not unwarranted. Rashād has a similar raspy drawl, introspective lyricism, and favors genre-bending beats that highlight skilled instrumentalists. But his subdued tone of voice and conversational flow immediately remind me of two of my favorite MCs, Isaiah Rashad (and not just because they share a surname) and Vince Staples (when he’s in his sadboy bag, like on Dark Times). I’m drawn to these two artists in particular because they possess an unflappable poise, an ironclad nonchalance that’s baked into every line delivery. Like Rashād, they’re cool, calm, and collected–suave spitters with soft-spoken yet hard-hitting bars. Rappers who understand the power of subtlety and restraint. To me, the laid-back, unhurried flow they share has become something I associate with a fully formed, mature artistic identity. And while maturing as an artist doesn’t necessarily correlate with age, it’s worth noting that Rashād raps like the grown-ass man he is. 

Youthful anxieties run rampant in the music of many young artists, and while that nervous energy can give their songs a compelling immediacy, it’s often undermined by a palpable sense of insecurity. You can hear that they don’t quite yet know who they are as artists or people–and that’s ok! I’m not knocking artists who are still in an experimental phase, but I am suggesting that when an artist discovers and hones in on their own sound, that’s when the magic really starts. And most artists seem to recognize that in themselves as well. At the listening party for ATLASTCITY, Rashād said this is the first project of his that he truly feels proud of, and he should. While greener artists are frequently haunted by an uncertainty disguised as arrogance, Rashād demonstrates the opposite approach, winning fans over with his self-assured humility. Rashād does not chase listeners, he patiently draws them in. 

I’m making Rashād sound like a wise old man, but again, he’s not actually old in human years, so his tone isn’t so much didactic as it is reminiscent of a cool older cousin you hit up for advice. He’s able to drop lots of gems without coming off preachy, or worse, delusionally optimistic. It’s a more relaxed variant of “conscious” rap that’s still palatable to pessimists (realists!) like myself. The majority of the song titles on ATLASTCITY denote forms of motion (“Crash into me,” “Fallin,” “Leap”) or stillness (“Gravity,” “Moment”), hinting at one of the projects’s central tenets: sometimes we have to be still to move forward. Expanding on the ideas introduced in A Foolish Story About An Imposter, ATLASTCITY tackles questions of love, fate, identity, artistry, and agency. As Rashād finds a home within his own skin, he asks us to consider our place in the world, confront the fleeting nature of time, and make peace with what’s out of our control. Like he raps on “Crash into me,” we are all just “Small blue marbles on collision course.” With acute self-awareness, Rashād is able to situate himself in the larger context of humanity rather than keeping a narrowly self-centered focus. Losses are reframed as lessons (“I’ll be the first to tell you that good love hurts/But it taught me who I was first,” from “Gravity”), and wins reverberate upwards through generations. 

Two self-actualized musicians making art out of an internal need to do so sound very different from recording artists who churn out short-lived viral hits. ATLASTCITY proves that, in case you had doubts. On the project’s opening track, “Something to believe in,” Rashād introduces himself to new listeners with the lines: “I’ve never been on record for lying/Don’t subscribe to perjury/Nowadays I started to pair my writing with some urgency.” “Authentic” is a term that’s grievously overused when talking about rappers, but in this context it’s the most concise way to communicate the ethos of Rashād’s music. Authenticity isn’t just a buzzword to be thrown around, it’s a badge of honor we should be a little more scrupulous with, and here it’s well-deserved. 

I will never tire of hip-hop, but I’m getting a bit tired of the self-aggrandizing hyperbole that is so often a hallmark of the genre. Maybe I’m just getting old (I am), but if authenticity is the lifeblood of hip-hop (it is), there has to be some truth in your bars for me to take the music seriously. If you’re really living it up, by all means, continue giving us party bops about your luxurious hedonism. But can I be real for a hot second?  How many songs can you write about a life you’ve never had before it all starts to ring hollow? The age-old adage “Write what you know” is reductive, but the principle endures: write what is real to you. Rashād is refreshingly honest in his lyricism, unafraid to share a bruised ego or dark moment. And kudos to don., whose sophisticated understanding of how to balance a song's vocal and instrumental components uplifts and celebrates Rashād's lyrics(and it's what makes don. such a sought-after collaborator). If this thoughtful, intentional, and yes, “authentic” music is what Rashād is putting out at 34, I hope Rashād is still making music at 44, 54, 64…you get the gist.

ATLASTCITY by Kyron Rashād and don. is available now on all streaming platforms.