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“There’s like good art, and then if you’re black, you have to cross a certain threshold before people start listening to your s— or taking it seriously,” says Ric Wilson, a rapper, on the inspiration for his latest EP, “BANBA.”

According to Wilson, BANBA stands for “Black Art, Not Bad Art,” and the slogan has become something of a personal call to arms for the rising musician as he navigates the music industry and his creative process, both inside and outside of Chicago. Released last week, “BANBA” represents a slight sonic shift in Wilson’s sound. On his previous EP, “Negrow Disco,” Wilson was focused on building up the energy of his productions and producing a work of art which focused on the possibilities within black joy. And although “BANBA” still incorporates the same clean, precise instrumentation (the album opener and title track executes this quite flawlessly), Wilson says this latest collection of songs stemmed from a sadder place.

Wilson began working on “BANBA” in August though he didn’t dig deep into the music until October. Primarily recorded in his home, Wilson says he aimed to make this latest EP “vibe-ier and with more emotions.” It wasn’t a difficult task. Wilson previously worked as a sound engineer for other rappers, though he now claims he does not have the patience for it like he did when he was younger. Still, he knows and works on his music, and that background in sound engineering allows Wilson to craft music in the way he desires.

“I always love the clean-cut sounding stuff, and now that I’ve gotten (to this moment), I can have my songs sound the way I like,” Wilson says. “I don’t have to explain it to anyone. I can just put it out.” A frequent performer on the city’s open mic scene, Wilson also often uses the stage to break down the intricacies and successes of the sonic templates and lyrical compositions he creates. “If I can’t do this song without a beat and it sounds crazy, then I don’t want to do it,” says Wilson. “But if it sounds decent without a beat, then I’m good. That’s how it should sound with a rap song.” He may know how a beat should sound, but if the song can’t flow without the music, Wilson knows he’s not entirely done mastering the final product.

His most significant influence, however, was the artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. While watching a documentary about the artist, Wilson found the name for his album. “People were tweaking on him, and he started getting all sad and everything because people were calling his art primitive,” Wilson says. “I was thinking how black art isn’t bad art. I feel like they called his art primitive because he’s black.”

Basquiat has always been a significant influence in Wilson’s work. Wilson compares the abstractness of his last EP, “Negrow Disco,” with the neo-expressionist stylings of Basquiat art. In particular, the drum and jazz influences peppered throughout “Negrow Disco” (and Wilson’s unwillingness to settle entirely on one structured aesthetic) mimicked the graffitilike, multicolored, dreamlike visions Basquiat translated to the canvas.

That same abstractness plays a role on the new EP as well. On “BANBA,” Wilson raps, “You still can’t crop me out or block me out/ and you can’t box me out/ I’m Basquiat.” Wilson’s admiration of the artist and the confidence he draws from Basquiat permeates every facet of the charming, six-track breakthrough. “I love (Basquiat’s) drive and how he was like, if you don’t get it, you’ll get it sooner or later,” Wilson says. The same can easily apply to Wilson’s music.

Britt Julious is a freelance writer.

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