Pryde Talks Growing Up Through the Grief

Photo by Bryan Chong

21-year-old rapper Pryde is taking in the sunshine on an unusually warm September day as he cheerfully plays with his phone. The sunny and engaged disposition he takes throughout our interview seems remarkable knowing the tragedy Pryde’s faced over the last year. His mother, whom he describes as his best friend, died of cancer this past April. “I’d promised her so much with what I wanted to do with my life and now she can’t even see it,” explains the Filipino-raised performer from Brampton, Ontario. Pryde’s followers on social media, who number in the hundreds of thousands, bore witness to his mourning, adding to the sting. “My life was almost transparent. I kind of lived in a glass house because all these young fans were seeing how I was living. I never left anything out of it,” he explains, grimacing a little at the thought, “I kept it almost way too honest.”

It was an old interview of his from his days touring with J. Cole that provided a way forward from the pain. “I was watching the footage and someone interviewed my mom and she just said all these different things about me that were almost impossible to believe. She said I was a genius and had qualities beyond measure. I didn’t see those qualities that she did, but after a while I was like, “I’m gonna have to accept these qualities and my mom’s not here to see that, but I’m gonna be that guy.”

Those revelations of his self-worth, along with feelings of dissatisfaction regarding his public persona, led to a rebranding and a change from his original moniker, D-Pryde. “It sounded very ‘rapper’, I couldn’t stand looking at it,” he says. Since then, Pryde has shifted his approach from family-friendly pop-rap to something that feels truer to the person he’s become. “I had to stay in this image I wasn’t really true with, but I had to take a good solid year from when I was 20 to 21 to say ‘let’s concentrate on growing up, getting to know myself better.’ I’m still learning but you know, it’s progressed.”

Even at his young age, Pryde has already experienced a career’s worth of triumphs. Since debuting with his MARS mixtape in 2011 when he was 16, he’s seen local recognition turn into national fame. He’s collaborated with artists like Joe Budden and Bun B, always finding a home with his distinct style, which he called “really corny, big pop” mixed with emotionally bare, confessional lyrics. What he’s doing seems to be working, as he’s attracted an audience of 350,000 subscribers on YouTube. But now he’s looking to reach beyond his immediate fan base and appeal to a larger crowd as Pryde. “Having 200 fans is cool but having 400,000 that are growing with the new name is way better. You know, I’d rather reinvent.”

Pryde has managed to consolidate his new, more mature direction with his past of doing “the pop-rap thing”, as he puts it, in his new video “Nightshift”, which finds him speaking about providing for his family. He’s currently prepping his debut retail album Russell for an October release.

Noisey: How is the lyrical content on Russell different from your early tapes? You’ve always laid things out pretty straight.
Pryde: I mean, during the MARS days, there were details explained. I talked about getting jumped at 17, I talked about my mom and dad still working and the grief I felt with it but I left characteristics out of there. I left out the parties, I left out the girls. I didn’t have one “chick song” on the tapes, and it left this weird hole in my demographic where I wasn’t even getting girls at my shows. I felt like it was bad for my image but there are leftover experiences and I couldn’t indulge in them. But now I’ve indulged in those things and a whole bunch of other stuff I can’t explain ‘cause you need to listen to the music.

You’ve been supporting your family only with your music. What’s that like?
My dad and my sister are the only things I care about right now. You always preach that it’s the art but if you’re trying to treat it like a business you gotta go out and make money, you gotta put yourself on that super “day shift, night shift” mentality. If you wanna make this a job, you make it a job and you knock down anything in your way. I’m here to do this for my passion but I’m also here to kick in doors and say “I’m not anybody’s bitch, I’m here to make some money.” But to support my family off music is awesome. I don’t have a 9 to 5, I don’t have any side jobs, doing what I love is what I always wanted to do with my life.

You did a collaboration with Bun B a few years back and you also did some work with DJ Suss One from New York. What did these relationships teach you?
The Bun B feature I had on “Hometown Hero” came from a favor, a friend of mine in New York. I’ve only talked to Bun B once on the phone but he’s a definite hero of mine. To have him on the song was great. I just wish it was more of a personal relationship, cause I’m definitely a chameleon, I get along with everybody. It would been great to just sit down and have a conversation with him but I still got the record.

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Suss One was actually part of the company I’m kind of signed to and own half of, Mars Music Group. He was actually the primary investor into it and helped mold me as an artist as well. We just had a falling out and I got a little salty about it. I said his name on a record. I was just an angry kid. Honestly, on everything, I just wanna be less dramatic and try not to make a movie out of every single thing. Instead of overreacting about a situation, I really need to be a man and face my problems.

What was coming out of the Mississauga/Brampton scene like?
You get that small-town kid mentality where you don’t know if the world is bigger than you or not and it keeps you humble. I don’t expect so much from other people, I expect a lot out of myself. Growing from a small town, you just wanna make it out, and the only way you’re gonna do that is if you just keep on acting the way you are and just be as talented as you are and never get too hot headed.

Do you feel like you made it out?
Not exactly, but I feel like I made it somewhere. I’m not gonna undersell myself. There are a lot of people who are still stuck and I’m not one of them. I saw bigger in myself than they could ever see in themselves.

Phil Witmer is a writer living in Toronto. Follow him on Twitter.