Butch Dawson’s artistic journey is a testament to what can happen when someone doesn’t place any parameters around their creativity. The West Baltimore native has been a pivotal figure in his hometown’s hip-hop scene for a decade, starting as a battle rapper while still in high school. In the years following those embryonic stages, Butch’s artistry began to blossom as he developed his skills in constructing songs, producing for himself and others, while also finding innovative ways to promote what he and his peers were making. In the early half of the 2010’s, his music reflected the shit-talking, bounciness that rappers trying to get crowds to jump and down to their songs reflected at the time. But towards the middle of the decade, with songs like “Red Leather Chair,” his sound started to trend more towards a jazzy, melancholy direction where he was able to peel back his emotional layers in a way that he hadn’t before. As time progressed, Butch’s music has become a down-the-middle split between making you want to punch a hole through the wall and inspiring you to sit back and gather your thoughts about life — past, present and future.
And while his career evolved over this span of time, Butch was simultaneously helping usher in an alternative route for rappers trying to break out of Baltimore. He hails from the Pennsylvania Avenue section of West Baltimore, an area steeped in musical history. Clubs like the former Royal Theater regularly hosted Black musical icons like Billie Holiday and visiting artists as they hit the Chitlin’ Circuit. But during Butch’s lifetime — though still an essential part of Black Baltimore culture — Pennsylvania Avenue regressed into a shell of its former self, with the majority of nightlife destinations vanishing, while crime and dilapidation rose considerably. This pushed a young creative Butch who was hungry for inspiration to start looking past his neighborhood and other familiar parts of the city. What he found was Central Baltimore’s transplant-heavy alternative DIY scene, and it opened his mind to a new way to approach his work.
“Getting into that scene helped me evolve artistically because, you know, I was more open to different shit,” he says. “Living in the hood and shit all day, you can be close-minded a little bit if you don't go out and just see the world for yourself. So for me, just going out there and just seeing people soak all this music up, it allowed me to just open my mind creatively, and it made me become more experimental with my music.”
As he was making his way in the alternative scene, tirelessly releasing collaborative projects with others in that orbit, establishing the Basement Rap collective with like-minded friends, and getting coverage from national music platforms, Butch was inspiring other kids from inner city Baltimore to spread their wings. It also made Baltimore a much more enticing destination for artists from elsewhere, like standout rapper and producer JPEGMAFIA who moved to the city in 2014 and began collaborating with Butch almost instantly. For this, Butch Dawson is already a pioneer, which makes his recent accomplishments all the more special.
In 2018, he released his breakout project Swamp Boy, an eight-track album that is the most complete representation of what makes him exceptional. It features songs like “Division St. Blues,” a somber ode to the street he grew up on and how it’s changed over the years. Around the same time, he began to model for and collaborate with fashion designer Telfar Clemens. In 2019, he followed Swamp Boy with Ollieworld, a more high-octane project that felt like it was made with performing live in mind (he toured with JPEGMAFIA across North America that year). The majority of this was accomplished from Butch’s home studio in Baltimore. And now as he’s newly signed to Asylum Records, it feels like the rest of the world will finally be hip to the gifts that he’s been sharing for over ten years now.
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