Today, March 27, Compton-born rapper/singer/producer/dancer Channel Tres shared "Weedman," the first single from his new label Art For Their Good. The funky track is his first new music of 2020, following 2019's Black Moses EP, and comes paired with a vintage-hued visual.

Behind the song's house party-ready vibes and undulating G-funk beat, the underlying message is an important one: Despite the legalization of marijuana in California and beyond, many people of color are still disproportionately serving time for weed-related charges. According to the ACLU, "in the United States, a black person is 3.73 times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than a white person is, despite approximately equal rates of use."

Channel Tres Talks Honoring Isaac Hayes On EP 'Black Moses,' Healing With Music & Being A "Ghetto Savior"

Over email, Tres shares with us the inspiration behind "Weedman" and how it portrays his younger self and the perspective of his weed dealer.

"The track's nostalgic for a time where weed was inaccessible—and now there's weed shops everywhere. Back then if I couldn't get my weed, it was a big thing for me because I couldn't go to sleep. I was stressed out over a lot of stuff at that age. The song explains that—me struggling to figure out where to get my weed, but also for the dealer going through hard times too," he wrote.

"Every voice on there is me. All the voices and characters in my head. I grew up on a lot of DJ Quik, Parliament, OutKast, dance music. One thing I noticed with DJ Quik is if you take all the vocals off his tracks, they hit like European dance records."

LISTEN: Childish Gambino Drops New Album ‘3.15.20’

Tres also spoke to the beautiful video, shot by Henry Grenier on 8mm film by in a house he rented in the Hollywood Hills. It was directed and edited by regular creative collaborator Anthony Sylvester, who also directed the videos for "Topdown" and "Jet Black."

"I wanted the video to represent the different personalities I have, and this is the first song where I did vocals I wouldn't normally do, mixed with sounds I've been inspired by for years. The video's shot with a Super8 camera and I rented out a house that looks like my Grandma's because I wanted it to have that feel. It just happened to come out during this time where it's kinda fitting for everything that's going on—it looks like I'm stuck at home, alone on the couch," he explained.

The "Sexy Black Timberlake" artist will be making his Coachella stage debut this fall and plans to treat us with more of his musical gifts ahead of the fest.

Mortal Man: Author Marcus J. Moore Talks 5 Years Of Kendrick Lamar's 'TPAB' & His Forthcoming Book, 'The Butterfly Effect'

As pop and country music ruled the airwaves over the summer, Hanumankind helped bring a much lesser-known genre to global audiences: Indian hip-hop. His rambunctious track "Big Dawgs" almost instantly became a viral hit, taking over Tiktok and soon reaching No. 23 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 9 on the Billboard Global 200 chart — a first for an English song by an Indian artist.

Though "Big Dawgs" is in English, its global success has helped give exposure to the world of Indian hip-hop, which has been building a steady foundation in the country. In recent years, Indian hip-hop has become a more grounded and nuanced underground subculture than the more Bollywood-friendly commercialized branch of the genre. Hanumankind is just one of many artists who are bringing pure authenticity, telling their own stories and seamlessly infusing regional Indian languages into their music.

While the genesis of Indian hip-hop dates back to the '90s, the most prominent breakthrough came in 2014 with Naezy's "Aafat!," a diaristic critique of the authentic Indian experience. With subsequent releases like 2015's "Meri Gully Mein," Naezy became the blueprint for a rejuvenated movement that was far more confident in subject matter and less reliant on commercial avenues for publicity. 

Like Naezy, the rise of modern Indian hip-hop artists has largely been through democratic means, helping the genre reach audiences more organically and, in turn, feeling more relatable. Part of this authenticity also comes from necessity. With mainstream releases in India often falling prey to censorship spurred by nationalism, the genre has paved the way for meaningful conversations and commentary on social, political and personal upheavals; for example, Street Academics' 2016 track "Chatha Kaakka" used a dead crow as an analogy for the lives of the underprivileged, while Arivu's 2019 release "Anti-Indian" that clapped back at the increasingly insular and dangerous wave of nationalist sentiment across the country. With artists like Hanumankind continuing to exploit their creative freedom and use art as cultural review, Indian hip-hop is on its way to making an equally powerful impact in India and around the world.

As the interest in Indian hip-hop continues to grow, get to know Hanumankind and five more hip-hop artists from the country you should be listening to.

Before "Big Dawgs" was "rolling through the city" and taking over social media and charts, Sooraj Cherukat — aka Hanumankind — was already deeply entrenched in the Indian hip-hop and rap scene. The rapper, who grew up in Texas but moved back to India to pursue higher studies, left behind a career in investment banking to make music. He released his debut EP, Kalari, in 2019, showcasing his smooth flows and South Asian pride while effortlessly incorporating his Western inspirations — a combination that has become his signature.

Two years later, his track "Damnson" would establish him as a mainstay on the Indian festival circuit. But it was 2024's "Big Dawgs" — heavily inspired by UGK, Project Pat and his "Patta flow," and Pimp C, whose line "Top notch hoes get the most not the lesser" makes an appearance in the opening — that throned him as an underground star poised to become a mainstream icon. With imagery leveraging grassroots Indian motifs like the Maut ka Kuan (translating to "The Well of Death," a popular attraction at Indian street fairs), "Big Dawgs" was both a nod to his roots and his creative influences growing up, making HMK's brand of Indian pride truly global.

At just 23, Akriti Lal — known as Pho to her fans — is one of the few female artists to have made waves in the hip-hop scene in India, crowning herself as an emphatic, poetic and sensitive storyteller. Just like her live performances, which see her invite the audience to be part of the show, Pho's songs brim with an intimate, electric energy.

Her precocious 2022 debut EP Bheetar Bahar (translating to "inside outside") explored the inner desires to love against the external stimuli that hold us back from doing so. Since then, releases like "Kabhi Kabhi" and "Sambhav" have established her as an emotive writer uncannily in tune with the intricacies of human nature. Working in tandem with her lyricism is an honest, grounded approach; Pho speaks from the heart, lacing her work with endearing sincerity that lends itself to romanticism.

Along with Hanumankind's "Big Dawgs," Shreyas Savgekar and Kratex's "Taambdi Chaamdi" (translating to "Brown Skin") has also helped Indian hip-hop gain attention this year. The self-love anthem went viral in July not just for its good-natured comedic treatment, but also for clever wordplay and references delivered in Shreyas' native Marathi tongue, a cornerstone of his artistry. Savgekar looked to his Maharashtrian upbringing and childhood to inspire the song's catchy hook "Lakalakalaka," taken from the phrase "Lakh lakh karun chamaktoy" ("See how they're shining"), which his grandfather used to describe glimmering fireflies at dusk.

Beyond "Taambdi Chaamdi," releases like "Uddhat" and "Khankhanit" have made Savgekar into a spokesperson for the evolving Marathi rap landscape. In a landscape where Marathi rap songs can be "heavily influenced by the West and we can see Marathi artists struggling to find their authenticity," as he told Rolling Stone India in 2023, Shreyas' work stands as a celebration of Marathi grit and culture, an ode to soil and struggle characterizing the humble, yet proud man.

"Hip-hop, I find, is the most liberating of all genres because I think anybody can do it. All we need to do to express ourselves is just to write and pick up a beat online and just say what you feel. That is so liberating," Garv Taneja, aka Chaar Diwaari, told Rolling Stone India in 2023. 

True to his words, zero budgets and a DIY-approach haven't stopped Taneja from leapfrogging over the proverbial *chaar diwaari* — translating to "four walls" in Hindi, often the term used for a constrictive space — of expectations and creative blocks and creating immersive, phantasmagorical, and often horrific, worlds for his music videos. 

From the horror and rap medleys of "Teri Maiyat Ke Gaane" ("Songs For Your Funeral") to his bone-chilling delivery on "Barood" ("Gunpowder"), Chaar Diwaari is an expert on toeing the line between defiant and disturbing. While society continues to debate the dichotomy between what is acceptable and what might be art, Taneja's music exists in the liminal space where they are one and the same.

For many, ThirumaLi, or Vishnu MS, is largely considered an OG of the Malayalam rap and hip-hop scene in South India. When he began making hip-hop close to a decade ago, few knew about the genre, and even fewer were making music that was beyond flimsy facsimile of Western rap and hip-hop.

ThirumaLi started out rapping in English, but switched to his native Malayalam before long, soon cutting through the noise with scathing social and political commentary and an authentic voice. His music is characterized by colloquial lyrics and delivery, aligning with the "raw" nature of rap that drew him to the genre in the first place. 

Whether in celebration or in critique, ThirumaLi's kitchen-sink and direct approach stands out. On tracks his "Avastha" (translating to "state of things"), he calls out overconsumption and moral policing, while "Sambar" cheekily warns people not to underestimate him by likening his flow to *Sambar* — the South Indian dish that's deceptively simple, but still packs a punch.

Once Daiaphi Lamare — better known as Reble — starts spitting bars, you'll understand why she's one of Indian hip-hop's most exciting rising stars. Reble's power lies in how unabashedly she embraces her tribal roots, weaving them with practical concerns about the balancing act of being a woman, a teenager and everything in between. 

Tracks like "Bond Fission" proclaim her single-minded determination to succeed no matter the circumstance: "A maven, I've been patient with this s—, don't need no audience for this is, not a stadium, this art is beyond craniums," she raps in front of a plain gray wall, adorned only with a carpet. Meanwhile, "Believe" gently injects a boost of confidence in the face of doubt: "I know deep inside my heart I'll never be at peace If I don't make it to that place I'll never be complete."

But it's on songs like "Terror" — where Reble employs her Meghalayan ancestry to breathe power into her verses, mixing English with her native Khasi and Jaintia — that she truly shines. "Terror" unfolds as a cosmic celebration of her heritage, weaving a tale of power passed down through time. The immersive, encompassing track is perhaps most representative of the artist she is: unapologetic, fearless, profound, and a bastion of a proud history.

The winds of November might be crisp and cold, but they bring along a collection of sizzling new music. From bold debuts to heartfelt returns, new eras to final chapters, there's no shortage of options to warm you up this month.

On the first Friday of the month, goth band The Cure makes their return after 16 years, and R&B sensation Jacquees releases the suggestive Baby Making. In the following weeks, British trio FLO will release their anticipated debut, Access All Areas, and BTS's Jin will finally drop Happy, his first solo album.

And there's more: nu metal trailblazers Linkin Park will enter a new era with From Zero, Dolly Parton enlisted her family to create the expansive Smoky Mountain DNA – Family, Faith & Fables, and 2020 Mercury Prize winner Michael Kiwanuka will drop Small Changes.

Lastly, the third and final posthumous album by rapper Juice WRLD will also be out this month, and Irish megastars U2 are going to celebrate the 20th anniversary of How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb with a shadow album titled How To Re-Assemble An Atomic Bomb.

To guide you through this eventful month, GRAMMY.com compiled a list with the 14 must-hear releases of November 2024. Check them out below.

CHASE ATLANTIC — 'Lost In Heaven' (Nov. 1)

Australian trio CHASE ATLANTIC continue to reach for the stars. Following performances at Bonnaroo, Lollapalooza, and the main stage at Reading & Leeds in 2023, the band is set to release their fourth studio album, Lost In Heaven, on Nov. 1st.

Led by singles "Die For Me," "Doubt It," and "Ricochet," the band continues to expand their atmospheric, genre-blurring sound. A press release notes that they are poised to break boundaries once again, "diving deeper into their distinct world of hypnotic melodies, sonic experimentation, and epic live shows." The 2023 single "Mamacita" also features on the tracklist.

To promote the new record, they launched an ongoing tour across North America, with rapper 24KGOLDN as a special guest. The tour began on Oct. 16 in Dallas, and will wrap on Nov. 19 in Los Angeles. In December, they will continue with six additional shows in Australia and New Zealand. 

The Cure — 'Songs Of A Lost World' (Nov. 1)

In September, English goth band The Cure released "Alone," their first new song in 16 years. Along with it came also the announcement of their fourteenth LP, Songs Of A Lost World, set for release on Nov. 1.

Frontman Robert Smith shared in a press release that "Alone" was the track that "unlocked" the new album. "As soon as we had that piece of music recorded I knew it was the opening song, and I felt the whole album come into focus," he noted. The album, in progress since 2019, includes tracks "Alone" and "A Fragile Thing," which were performed live during the band's Shows Of A Lost World tour in 2022 and 2023.

The 8-track ensemble follows 2008's 4:13 Dream, and was entirely written and composed by Smith — a feat he hadn't repeated since 1985's The Head On The Door. Smith also co-produced the record with the help of Paul Corkett.

Masked Wolf — 'The Devil Wears Prada But God Wears Gucci' (Nov. 8)

After his 2019 song "Astronaut in the Ocean" became a sleeper hit in 2021 thanks to TikTok, the life of Australian rapper Masked Wolf (Harry Michael) changed dramatically. He quit his day job to focus on music full-time and swiftly released Astronomical, his first mixtape.

Three years later, Michael swapped the space suit for a superhero persona. "I feel it, my desire, yeah, I'm reaching in my soul /They tryna take me out, yeah, they wanna break my bones /It's like I've been bit, but I still keep control /I will never give up, I never give up," he raps in "Spiderman in Space," a single off his upcoming debut LP, The Devil Wears Prada But God Wears Gucci.

Set to drop on Nov. 8, the album showcases Michael's versatility and immutable determination, traits also evident on singles "Give Me My Heart Back" with Lecrae, "Sweeter," "Tell Me Why" with Kota the Friend, and "Hell or High Water."

Ab-Soul — 'Soul Burger' (Nov. 8)

After 2022's lauded Herbert, Los Angeles rapper Ab-Soul is gearing up to release the mixtape Soul Burger on Nov. 8. The project is a tribute to the artist's childhood friend, Doe Burger, who passed away in December 2021.

In a recent interview with Sirius XM's "Effective Immediately", the Top Dawg Entertainment star shared that he's "been trying to channel" Burger's spirit in this release. "My best way of doing that is through music. And hence the title, it's the fusion of me and him. We were literally Huey and Riley from The Boondocks, to where this album is not me — it's Soul Burger. It's like a new artist… So I recommend everybody listen to it in terms of that."

The mixtape includes singles "Squeeze 1st 2" and "All That" featuring JasonMartin (formerly known as Problem) and Thirsty P. In June, Ab-Soul reunited with his Black Hippy bandmates Kendrick Lamar, Jay Rock, and Schoolboy Q at Lamar's Pop Out Concert in California.

FLO — 'Access All Areas' (Nov. 15)

British R&B trio FLO have announced their much-awaited debut LP, Access All Areas, set to release on Nov. 15. Executive produced by MNEK, the album follows the success of singles "Walk Like This," "Caught Up," and "Check."

"Access All Areas is a labor of love," the group, composed of Jorja Douglas, Stella Quaresma, and Renée Downer, said in a press statement. "To us it represents our growth and dedication to making girl group history, to making a project we are truly proud to call our debut album." The album is described as a "manifesto" for FLO, approaching themes of love, sisterhood, and navigating life as young Black women.

Starting Nov. 11, the trio will kick off their AAA: Intimate Acoustic Shows tour in record stores across the U.K., with stops in Nottingham, Kingston, London, Birmingham, and Manchester.

BoyWithUke — 'Burnout' (Nov. 15)

"I was feeling tired just because it's been go, go, go since I started," said TikTok sensation BoyWithUke in a statement about his upcoming album, Burnout. "I think I had some real identity issues with who I am. Like am I this extroverted character or am I Charley Yang? But now I think I've found a really good balance of work and personal life."

Charley Yang, who rose to fame after going viral in 2021 with ukulele hits like "[Toxic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mvaosumc4hU)" and a signature LED mask — removed only last year — began exploring a more open and experimental side to his music once he revealed his face. "For the longest time I had made songs to impress this person I was in love with as well as music executives, and once that was gone things felt weird," he added. "I felt a little bit lost, but in a larger and more positive way, I felt free with freedom to make mistakes and basically whatever I wanted — I think that's what *Burnout* is."

Burnout will be Yang's final record under the BoyWithUke moniker, but it already points to new musical directions. Lead singles "Ghost" and "Can You Feel It?" build on his previous work, while "Gaslight" takes a daring plunge into alt-rock and electronic beats, showcasing Yang's rawest performances yet.

Jin — 'Happy' (Nov. 15)

The first BTS member to complete his military enlistment, Jin was also the only one who hadn't released a solo LP — until now. The wait is over as he announced the release of his debut album, Happy, set for release on Nov. 15.

According to a press release, Happy is a six-track collection that chronicles Jin's journey to find true happiness. Through the album, he shares "honest thoughts and feelings on what happiness means to him," and aims to give listeners "a sense of strength and comfort in their day-to-day lives."

The album comes two years after Jin's co-written collaboration with Coldplay, "The Astronaut." To build anticipation, he has also released the complete version of his 2021 viral hit, "Super Tuna," along with the rockabilly-inspired lead single, "I'll Be There."

Dolly Parton & Family — 'Smoky Mountain DNA – Family, Faith & Fables' (Nov. 15)

Dolly Parton continues to amaze. After being inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and releasing her first rock album, Rockstar, last year, the country queen returns on Nov. 15 with a project that explores her deepest roots: her family.

Smoky Mountain DNA – Family, Faith & Fables is a prodigious visual and musical project featuring both branches of Dolly's family, the Partons and the Owens. Spanning nearly 40 tracks, the album was produced by her cousin, Richie Owens, and showcases performances by various family members, including some who have passed away and others from the current generation.

In a statement, Smoky Mountain is described as "a passage through the lineage and ethos of a family that has deeply influenced one of the world's most beloved artists," tracing their journey from their U.K. origins in the 1600s to their present-day home in the Great Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee. A companion four-part docuseries is set to premiere in 2025.

Read More: 5 Ways Dolly Parton Has Promoted Peace & Global Unity

Dwight Yoakam — 'Brighter Days' (Nov. 15)

It's been nearly a decade since country superstar Dwight Yoakam released a new album, with his last being 2016's Swimmin' Pools, Movie Stars. That will change on Nov. 15, when Yoakam drops Brighter Days.

To announce his return, Yoakam dropped hit single "I Don't Know How to Say Goodbye (Bang Bang Boom Boom)" featuring Post Malone, a track he wrote specifically for this collaboration. Brighter Days has been self-produced over the past three years, with Yoakam co-writing most of the tracks and including covers of classics such as "Keep On The Sunny Side" by the Carter Family, "Bound Away" by Cake, and "Time Between" by The Byrds.

In a statement, the album is described as "at once timeless and timely," filled with "a modern appreciation for country music's history with the trailblazing rock and roll spirit of California." Yoakam is currently on a U.S. tour.

Linkin Park — 'From Zero' (Nov. 15)

Linkin Park is returning from hiatus with full force. On Nov. 15, the nu-metal legends will release their eighth LP, From Zero, introducing a new era for the band following the announcement of new vocalist Emily Armstrong (of Dead Sara) and drummer Colin Brittain.

"Before Linkin Park, our first band name was Xero. This album title refers to both this humble beginning and the journey we're currently undertaking," said co-vocalist Mike Shinoda in a statement. From Zero marks the band's first album without frontman Chester Bennington, who passed away in 2017, and former drummer Rob Bourdon. "Sonically and emotionally, it is about past, present, and future — embracing our signature sound, but new and full of life. It was made with a deep appreciation for our new and longtime bandmates, our friends, our family, and our fans," added Shinoda.

The album's lead single, "The Emptiness Machine," was followed by "Heavy Is The Crown," which became the main theme for Riot Games' 2024 League of Legends World Championship, and the recent release "Over Each Other." Ahead of the album, Linkin Park played a series of arena shows in September, with stops in Los Angeles, Seoul, and London. The tour is set to conclude on November 16 in São Paulo, Brazil.

Michael Kiwanuka — 'Small Changes' (Nov. 22)

"Whilst making this album I was really thinking about my motives for making music and making records," shared London-born singer Michael Kiwanuka on Instagram, when announcing his upcoming album, Small Changes. "I never started writing music/songs for anything other than a way to connect to myself and others, but what am I trying to say now?"

As the album neared completion, Kiwanuka realized that expressing the "small changes" he was experiencing, both in his voice or and his music, was reason enough. "And living for me is just that, remaining as true as possible despite all the changes around us," he added.

Small Changes follows Kiwanuka's 2020 Mercury Prize-winning album, Kiwanuka. Co-produced by Danger Mouse and Inflo, the LP's first single, "Floating Parade," dropped in July, followed by "Lowdown (Part I)" and "Lowdown (Part II)." Kiwanuka recently completed a North American tour with Brittany Howard and will play six intimate shows in the U.K. after the album's release.

Father John Misty — 'Mahashmashana' (Nov. 22)

November also marks the return of singer/songwriter Josh Tillman with his sixth album under the stage name Father John Misty. According to a press release, the album's title, Mahashmashana, derives from the Sanskrit word Mahāśmaśāna (महामशान), meaning "great cremation ground, all things put going thither."

Produced by Tillman and Drew Erickson, with longtime collaborator Jonathan Wilson serving as executive producer, the album features eight tracks spanning over 50 minutes. Half of the album has already been previewed through singles "I Guess Time Makes Fools of Us All," "She Cleans Up," "Screamland," featuring Low's Alan Sparhawk, and "Josh Tillman and The Accidental Dose." 

After supporting Kacey Musgraves on her Deeper Well Tour during September and October, Tillman announced he will headline a North American tour beginning February 2025, followed by a European leg in May.

Juice WRLD — 'The Party Never Ends' (Nov. 22)

After years of teasing, Juice WRLD's third and final posthumous album, The Party Never Ends, is set to be released via Grade A and Interscope Records on Nov. 22. This will be his first full-length project since 2021's Fighting Demons, which included collaborations with Polo G, Justin Bieber, BTS, and more. 

Lil Bibby, founder of Grade A, shared on Instagram that "we want this album to feel like a celebration/party. No more mourning, I want everyone that Juice loved while he was here to help celebrate, especially his fans whom he loved."

The Party Never Ends follows the release of December 2023's single "Lace It" featuring Eminem, produced by Benny Blanco, which addresses the dangers of addiction. In September 2024, Juice WRLD's legacy was further expanded with the EPs The Pre-Party and The Pre-Party (Extended), each featuring two tracks, including the single "Lightyears" with Young Thug.

U2 — 'How To Re-Assemble An Atomic Bomb' (Nov. 22)

In November 2004, Irish band U2 topped the charts with their iconic album How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb. The album and its singles earned eight GRAMMYs between 2005 and 2006 and was described by vocalist Bono as their "first rock album" ever.

As the 20th anniversary approaches, U2 will commemorate the milestone with a remaster and re-release of the original album, along with a new project titled How To Re-Assemble An Atomic Bomb — a 10-track "shadow album" that includes new and unreleased songs from the band's archives.

"The sessions for How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb were such a creative period for the band, we were exploring so many song ideas in the studio," bassist The Edge said in a press statement. "For this anniversary edition, I went into my personal archive to see if there were any unreleased gems and I hit the jackpot. What you're getting on this shadow album is that raw energy of discovery, the visceral impact of the music, a sonic narrative, a moment in time, the exploration and interaction of four musicians playing together in a room… this is the pure U2 drop."

Among the tracks, fans might recognize "Luckiest Man In The World" as the leaked demo "Mercy," now officially released. Five other songs have been remastered, including "Don't Wanna See You Smile" and "All Because of You 2." The remaining four tracks are entirely new, never-before-heard recordings, including the single "Country Mile."

Havoc is excited. The Mobb Deep MC and acclaimed industry producer is preparing to film a video with Wu-Tang Clan MC-turned-actor and Internet crush Method Man, and the thought of new music for the masses has him thrilled to pieces.

"This shit is about to be fire," he says enthusiastically. "I can't wait for everybody to check it out."

This single is dropping as part of a larger project with Method Man, which will serve as a tribute to their fallen comrades Ol' Dirty Bastard (ODB) and Prodigy, respectively. But that's not the only new music in the pipeline: after getting the blessing from his late rap partner estate, Havoc will drop the final Mobb Deep album featuring never-before-released verses from the late, great Prodigy, and production by longtime Mobb Deep producer Alchemist, on November 2nd, 2024 — on what would have been Prodigy's 50th birthday.

Born Kejuan Muchita in Brooklyn, New York, Havoc was raised in the Queensbridge Housing Project — the same place that would give the world rappers like MC Shan, Cormega, and of course, Nas — and attended the High School of Art & Design in Manhattan, where he met Albert Johnson (later known as Prodigy). There, the duo would form Poetical Prophets, which later became "The Infamous" Mobb Deep. 

Havoc isn't only known for his rhymes — whether as a solo artist, notably on "American Nightmare," where he traded bars with ex-Juice Crew MC Kool G Rap, or as one-half of Mobb Deep. He's also become one of the most acclaimed producers in hip-hop, sitting behind the boards crafting tracks for Lil Wayne, 2 Chainz, and Eminem. 

GRAMMY.com spoke with Havoc to talk about his new projects, his legacy with Mobb Deep, and how being both a rapper and a producer is a blessing and a curse.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Let's just dive right into it. Let's talk about your new single with Method Man and your new album.

The concept of the album is to pay tribute to our loved ones who passed away — to Ol' Dirty Bastard, and to Prodigy. We thought it would be cool to do a salute to them. Method Man and I had worked together before this — and seeing that we worked together so well, you know, we decided to do it again. 

With the Mobb Deep album: that's been a long time in the making. I wanted to make it years ago, but it wasn't completely my decision. I also needed to work with Prodigy's estate, and they needed time to come to terms with the idea. I gave them as much time as they needed — and of course, we hit a few bumps in the road, but nothing major. We were finally like, "It's time." It's time to continue with the Mobb Deep legacy — to remember Prodigy — and to give the supporters the music that they miss, and love, from Mobb Deep. 

Alchemist was one of the people that we worked with when we did the Mobb Deep albums. We were always in contact because we were good friends — and I wanted to have him included to keep up with the Mobb Deep tradition. His inclusion is what our supporters would expect from a classic Mobb Deep album. 

I wanted to explore, a little bit, what you said earlier about collaborating with Method Man to both pay tribute to your fallen comrades, and to produce new music. How much of it would you say is paying tribute to ODB and Prodigy, while educating young heads about their history — and how much of it is the "new sound" that's representative of where you two are in your careers right now?

It's equally a bit of both. We're talking about where we're at right now in our careers and our lives — we're both older now. Method Man really doesn't like to curse too much, and I understand — but I'm on there, talking my talk, as usual. Nonetheless, Method Man is in the greatest space he's ever been in, in his life.

You also have a great deal of influence in hip-hop as a producer. Some may go so far as to say that you're one of the most iconic producers of all time. From your perspective, the two-fold question is this: would you say your impact is more felt as a rapper, or as a producer? And is that your legacy, in this industry, and how you'd like to be remembered?

I believe I'm better received as a producer than as a rapper — which is kind of like a gift and a curse. It doesn't bother me too much, but I pour a lot of my heart into writing — I started as a rapper first, and did production later. 

I don't know how the transition happened — how I became better known for my production work more than my rapping — but I'd love for people to know how rapping is indeed my passion, because, to me, it's tough being a rapper that writes his lyrics and does his production at the same time. That's a big leap. If you could ask any rapper that same question, they'd tell you that it's a lot to do. 

I'm happy that I'm being recognized, but I'd like respect for my pen game. 

Let's go back to the early years — 1991, and your appearance in "Unsigned Hype" in The Source when you started to make headway in the mixtape scene in New York. Did you recognize that you were tapping into something special, or did that recognition come later?

I think we knew we tapped into something special, whether people recognized it at the time or not. So, when the recognition from a broader audience came along, it just affirmed what we knew all along. 

With "Unsigned Hype," that opened the floodgates for us. One thing led to another, we signed our first record deal, and that's when we started releasing our singles and working with Wu-Tang Clan and other artists. That's when we took hip-hop by storm. So we knew that we'd tapped into something special, and we hadn't even finished the full album yet. 

Read more: The Unending Evolution Of The Mixtape: "Without Mixtapes, There Would Be No Hip-Hop"

Where did your mind go with it, once you realized that? Did that change the way you made music, from that point forward?

I believe so. We had a unique recipe, and we followed that recipe for the rest of our career. And we knew that people wanted a specific sound from us, and they wanted us. They didn't want Nas, or Big L, or even Biggie. They wanted Mobb Deep. So we never tried to be like anyone else — we just gave them us, and that was the winning formula.

How did you handle being drawn into the intense East Coast-West Coast feud, particularly after 2Pac named you in 'Hit 'Em Up'?

We were ready for it. We were prepared for war. Look, hip-hop is a contact sport. It is very competitive. So I just looked at it as a rap battle. At the time, I looked at it and thought, "Well, maybe when we see each other in person, there will be a little scuffle." We're artists — we might rap about certain things, and speak about political issues and life in the hood, but at the end of the day, we're entertainers. 

I thought people had more respect for human life. I never thought it was a life-and-death game. But when it became a life-and-death game, it shook the core of my existence. I didn't like it at all. And I don't believe that anybody involved — not Pac, not Big, not anybody — deserved to lose their life over some rap beef. 

It made me paranoid, and I believe I still have PTSD over it. Biggie Smalls and I share the same birthday. So it hits closer to home for me. 

Did you ever get a chance to squash the beef with Pac while he was still alive?

Not at all. He died in the middle of our beef. We put a record out called "Drop a Gem on 'em" in response to "Hit ‘Em Up." We put the single on the radio — it was clear we were dissin' Pac — and, not even seven days after we first dropped the single, we found out he got shot in Vegas. And we pulled the record from the radio — purposefully.

It wasn't until maybe 20 years after the fact that we got a chance to speak with Snoop Dogg. I never thought I'd get a chance to chill around West Coast rappers, but time heals everything. Now, I'm friends with Tha Dogg Pound. I'm friends with Snoop Dogg. I'm in Los Angeles all the time. But that was way down the line.

You have to understand that when it came to Snoop, we didn't have any "beef" to squash, especially after Biggie and Pac were murdered. Once we started hanging out with West Coast artists, we knew that beef was over — and I believe the media hyped it up more than it needed to be, to be honest. No life is worth losing over some rap beef. 

For a brief period, you and Prodigy weren't on the best of terms. You even engaged in a bit of a Twitter (now X) back-and-forth that left many fans — myself included — bewildered. Looking back on all of it now, what was the issue at hand, and how did you guys resolve it?

Prodigy and I have known each other for so long, we're brothers. Internally, differences were brewing — but when you're brothers, you're going to get into arguments and disagreements, but at the end of the day, you still love one another, and you're going to work things out. 

It was never meant to spill over into the public. And I take responsibility for that. I expressed myself publicly at a time when I shouldn't have been near any electronic devices, you know what I'm saying? I was drinking, and you're emotional when you're drinking — but when I was sober, I realized what I was doing was wrong. 

I'm not going to go on record to say what we were beefing about, but at the time, I thought it was valid. Prodigy and I squashed it a year later, though — we knew it was bad for business, plus, we'd known each other for too long to let it go on like this. 

Let's touch a little bit on the G-Unit years. There's a lot that you did with the label — and you'd already had that relationship with 50 Cent before the signing. So, tell us what you learned during the G-Unit era about the business, hip-hop, and so on.

I'd begun working on a solo album, and the late Chris Lighty was my manager. He'd told me about this young dude named 50 Cent, and I heard some of his stuff and I was blown away. 

I'd told Lighty that I wanted to work with Fif, and 24 hours later, I had him in my studio. At the time, he told me how much he'd admired Mobb Deep, while also hinting that he was considering working with Eminem and Dr. Dre, as they'd shown some interest. He'd even asked me what I thought he should do! 

Well, my solo album never came out. Years later, when Mobb Deep got shifted around from label to label, and got dropped from Jive Records, Fif had already sold 10 million records with Get Rich or Die Tryin'. And I didn't believe that he'd even remember me — but when he heard what happened, he called me up and said he wanted to sign Mobb Deep.

Prodigy initially didn't want to do it, but he changed his mind once he sat down with 50 Cent. The rest, as they say, is history. I was so pleased to be down with a crew that had sold so many records. But a lot of our fans, at the time, was hatin' on it. They thought we'd sold out. 

I don't even know where to begin with this, but: let's talk about Prodigy's death. It was a gut punch to me, and I can't imagine how it was for you. Where did you find the resolve to take on the responsibility of being the torch-bearer for all things Mobb Deep once Prodigy was gone?

I found it while I was thinking about Prodigy. I was thinking about him, and I was saying, "If God forbid, the shoe was on the other foot, he'd be moving forward." He'd be celebrating the Mobb Deep legacy. I don't think he'd want Mobb Deep to fall to the wayside. He'd be missing me like crazy, but he'd be taking Mobb Deep to the next level. 

With that, I found the resolve. I then thought about the supporters, and how they deserved one last Mobb Deep project. And I'm gonna make sure that happens because I don't want to be the one that fumbled the ball just because Prodigy isn't here. I'm the one who has to make sure that the masses hear it. 

And this is the last Mobb Deep album. At least, for now. There are still plenty of Mobb Deep verses to go around, but that's not for me to decide. I spoke to the estate about this album, and this album only. That's where my focus is. 

So, after this final Mobb Deep hurrah, what is next for Havoc?

There are a lot of things I want to get involved with — documentaries, film scoring, getting my label off the ground, mentoring young artists — that I don't think I'll ever be bored. No, there won't be any Mobb Deep anymore, but there's still Havoc. And that's my legacy. 

André 3000 is taking his show on the road, again.

The rapper-turned-flutist is beginning another tour this week in support of his debut solo recording, last year’s New Blue Sun. The two-month North American jaunt will feature André and his band —  Carlos Niño, Nate Mercereau, Surya Botofasina, and Deantoni Parks — performing the kind of collective group improvisation that was featured on their spacey, atmospheric album.

It’s been nearly a year since the album’s surprise release, so the world has had time to get adjusted to André Benjamin, experimental jazz musician instead of André Benjamin, one-half of arguably the greatest rap duo of all time. And André, likewise, has had some time to get used to being back in the public eye after years of trying to escape from it — a situation he compares to diet soda in our wide-ranging conversation.

GRAMMY.com called up André to discuss the tour, but things went in many different directions. We talked about his new musical life in detail — including why he jokingly refers to himself as the Lil B of out-there jazz. And we also delved into his old one. Does he ever write raps, even if only for himself? What is it like to have millions of people who only know you as the 23-year-old young man you were when OutKast's Aquemini created a whole new lane in hip-hop, as opposed to the 49-year-old man you are, who’s more into sharing stages with alums of Yusef Lateef’s jazz bands than with Big Boi or Killer Mike?

We got into all that, and a lot more. Check it out below.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

You're going out now for a new leg of shows in support of New Blue Sun. This tour is different. The venues are arts centers, concert halls, even an opera house or two. Last time it was jazz clubs and the occasional church. How are the audiences different in these sorts of venues, and how are you different as a musician and as a performer?

The venues, I think they're just getting larger because now people are finding out about it, and we've been blessed to keep getting booked in a great way. The only way the venue changes things is the sound. It may inform what we're doing.

Like, recently we did these caves in Napa Valley, and that was more intimate. It was caves, so you used the environment and the wall reverberation. That helps make decisions on what you're doing. But we've also gotten to a place now where, like you're saying, you’re performing in a larger church, and that church may have a longer [reverberation]. You do less in bigger spaces, because you're waiting for the sound to come back to you and fill it. Also, we've grown to bigger festivals, so we’re playing out in fields. And that’s even a different experience, because at that point you're playing out. We do more, you get louder. 

It just depends, because it doesn’t change the original intent and formula of what we’re doing, which is listening to ourselves and responding. So the venue is just another effect or another instrument, in a way, that we have to pay attention to. It gives us guidelines of what we want to do in the space.

What role do you play in the dynamics of the band? Are you the one saying, time for a new section or an ending? Who's handling the cues?

No, [laughs] we don't have cues. As a whole, we feel it. We feel when it's resolving, or we feel when it's building. Sometimes it gets really silent, and then someone may start. We don't have a, “Hey, you go do this.” It's not that at all. It is a total collective of feeling what's happening at the time. 

I may start a riff or a melody, or Nate may start like something, or Carlos may start something, or Surya may start something. And we just listen and chime in. But there are no cues like, okay, we're going to do this.

The only cue we may have is when we get together in our huddle before we go out, to ourselves, as a collective. We may say, “Let's start full on,” and whatever that means, we just dive completely in. Or we’ll say, “Let's just start in silence,” and we may sit there for 30 seconds to a minute completely silent, just listening to the crowd shuffle around. But that's our only cue a lot of times, and that's usually venue by venue or what we're feeling from the crowd. Other than that, once we start the ride, we're on our own G.P.S..

To the extent you can put it into words, what's going through your head when you play? I know you're not a trained musician who thinks in terms of notes and chords.

Sometimes, not musically at all. Sometimes it's concepts. I may be thinking pattern-ly or lines. Like if I just came from a museum or something, and I saw an artist and they used these kind of lines, [I’d think], how can I play like that? What does that sound like? And I'll try to mimic it.

Sometimes it’s just feelings. I may be agitated and try to play what that is. Because I'm not a trained musician, I have to find other ways to get to it, so I'm trying to use it as a way to describe what I'm feeling or what I'm trying to say. 

As long as I have an intent, I think that's most important. I have a goal. Sometimes I'm trying to agitate people around me, or trying to play like a bird. More concept playing, and I try to translate that.

One thing that your old music and your new music has in common is rhythm and phrasing. What connections do you see between how you would rhythmically phrase things as a rapper, and how you phrase things on the flute?

That's good you say that, because I think my strongest point, because I'm not a trained musician — I don't know keys or certain harmonies, I'm all using my ear — but I can translate rhythm from what I've done before. I can translate rapping. 

It’s almost as if a rapper became a guitarist, you’d probably be a better rhythm guitarist than anything, because he's played with rhythm. So yeah, a lot of things are rhythmically for me. I respond to that, because I've been in that space, and my mouth is doing that. It's rhythm.

When you were rapping, you had other groups in your Dungeon Family collective and people you probably considered your peers. Who do you consider your peers now when it comes to the type of music you and the group are making?

A long line of historical bands like Sun Ra, the Chicago Art Ensemble. Even rapper Lil B. I was joking to myself: I was like, I'm almost the Lil B of this type of music. Lil B is, they call it based rap. My son actually turned me on to Lil B. 

I'm informed by all kinds of things. I'm informed by Coltrane in ways. Eric Dolphy, for sure. Pharoah Sanders, Yusef Lateef. These are all people that for years I considered gods, not even knowing that I would be going in this direction, but I responded to these people. So I think when I play, I may reference them and not even know it, because it's in me. 

Sometimes we have OG players sit in with us that may have played with Yusef. We invite them on stage and after we play a set, some of the feedback that I've gotten has been really interesting about what I'm referencing and what I'm doing and who I sound like. And I'm like, wow, I'm not even trying to do a thing. But sometimes, it’s in your skin what you listen to or your sense of melody because you’ve listened to a certain thing for so long.

I'm curious to go back to the Lil B thing. What sort of parallels do you see between his approach and what you're doing?

Because a lot of what he's doing is made up or improv or really reactionary. It's not this studied, perfect thing. Because I came up in the ‘90s, we came up with Nas and Wu-Tang and some of the [people] considered the best rappers around. It was about clarity. It was more of a studied kind of thing. 

A person like Lil B is not studied at all. But the way the kids respond to him, it's because of that. It's kind of like a punk way of rapping, and I like it. [And what I’m doing is] almost like punk jazz or punk spiritual jazz. It's pure feeling. 

For me, it's really physical, because I'm coming from a different way. It's always been like that for me when it comes to instruments. Like, if I pick up a guitar, it's shapes in my hand, or if I'm on a piano, it's shapes on my fingers.

So when I'm playing a wind instrument, I'm physically trying to will something to happen. Some of my favorite players are physical. Kurt Cobain was physical — he wasn't the most perfect player. [Jimi] Hendrix wasn't even the most perfect player, but sometimes it was physical, what he was doing. Or Thelonius Monk, he hit the piano like it was drums. It's this physical thing that I like,

Did you connect more to Hendrix’s physicality during the time you literally had to become him for a couple of months [during the filming of the 2013 biopic Jimi: All Is by My Side]?

No. That was such an odd thing I had to do because I had to pretend to be left handed, which was very odd for me. No, it was a true acting situation.

The past year or so, what has it been like being a public person again? Are you treating it any differently than your first go-round?

It’s almost like [laughs] superstar lite, like Coke Lite or Coke Zero. It’s like Superstar Zero. You’ve got the fame, but it's not as intense as it was before. It's different. A lot of people are weirded out about the direction, so it's not the same intensity of the whole world on board with you — which is kind of cool for my age and tastes. I like this pace a lot, compared to just being all over everywhere all the time.

Then there's this other thing, too. The album has been out a year, and we recently dropped this film that we did to the album that came out a year ago, but we just released it on YouTube. So a lot of people are just now discovering the album. It's like, “Yeah, we heard something about this flute thing,” but they never heard it. Now that this video is out, a lot of people are hearing it again, or for the first time. So it's a cool thing that you kind of get this second wave of people that are just now hearing it.

Some of the ways you talk about playing remind me that your initial artistic plans, before rap, were in visual art. What connection do you see between the type of music you're doing now and the visual art you were doing when you were a teenager?

I don't necessarily see a connection from what I was doing when I was younger, visually. But as I've gotten older, now I do my own personal art study. I've never been to art school or anything, but now on YouTube, I have my own personal art history classes, and I'm learning: “Whoa, okay, Basquiat, he liked Cy Twombly. Cy Twombly, he just made these gestures on the canvas. Oh, I see Basquiat makes these gestures on the canvas.” Now I totally can see or even get influenced from a visual or physical thing, because a lot of those gestures were physical things.

It wasn't like I'm trying to make the most perfect figurative image. I'm trying to relate something. A lot of that, I can take from or be inspired by when I'm playing. Sometimes it's the only thing I have, because I don't know a certain progression or a certain series of notes. I know I'm physically doing a thing, and if I know that's matching what my ears are hearing in that key, I feel like I'm in the right place.

One thing I'm always interested in is how rappers think about rap. I've talked to artists who are like, “If I was walking down the street and saw a stop sign, I would come up with 100 rhymes for ‘stop sign,’ and it got so intrusive that I had to consciously cut that off.”

These days, do you still think of raps, even if it's only fragments or lines? If so, do you ever write them down or save them? Where are you these days in terms of composing raps or having raps come to mind?

Yeah, I totally rap all the time. I think it's just in me. But it's not an obsessive thing where if I see a brick, I have to rhyme “brick” with something. It's more of: there's a thought that's important to me. Then if there's a next line that rhymes, I go there and I'll write it down. But I'm not obsessive, where I'm trying to find every word that rhymes with “brick.” It's not an exercise for me. It's just a means to an end. 

It's funny because my engineer that I'm working with now, he raps, too, and he's a younger kid. He's asking me about how I do it. He was telling me his technique — he'll find all these words that rhyme with this word. And I was like, oh, that's cool. But when I do it, it's supporting the thought more than the rhyme. The rhyme is supporting the thought. It's not seeing how many things I can rhyme. But if I have a thought and I have a next thought, I am going to try to find that.

So it's more important to support what I'm trying to say, more than rhyming. There are rappers to me that are true rhymers. The biggest way I can explain it is, some painters are just painters — that's their form, is oil on canvas. And then some artists are concept artists, some artists are emotive. It's more about the emotion or saying something. For me, it's more about what I'm saying than how I'm saying it.

What’s next for you, recording-wise?

There's always new music to come.

Anything specifically you can say about that?

No. It's too early for me to even be able to describe what’s coming. But I'm always recording and trying to figure out new ways to do stuff.

I assume you hear OutKast’s music sometimes when you’re out and about. But do you ever intentionally listen to it?

Rarely. But recently, a friend of mine sent me a video of an interview that I was doing, and I was talking about a certain song that I hadn't heard in a long time. So I went back to listen to that song, and that sent me down the rabbit hole of all my guest verses and OutKast stuff. So one day I was in my hotel room listening to all this stuff for hours — five hours of albums and guest stuff. And it was surprising because you’re listening as a fan and not remembering where you were at the time when you did them. It's almost like you're having an out-of-body experience listening to yourself. Then you realize how much time has gone by and how different of a person you are, which is even crazier.

I can imagine! The first time I saw you perform was in 2001, which was four records into your career. But that’s almost 25 years ago.

Yeah. Twenty-five years is a long, long, long, long time. So you gotta imagine listening to yourself. It’s almost like looking back at high school pictures: how your hairstyle was, how your clothes were. It's all a trip because you're like, whoa, that was a completely different time. 

And what's even crazier is that the audience a lot of times, they don't grow, or they only know what you've given them. So a lot of times in their mind they're still there, and it's kind of weird. Stuff that they're hoping for from you, you've already moved past that. 

A lot of people don't understand — even when you put an album out, you're past it already. You may be onto something else. But they start right then, and they only know of that. They don't know the years in between. They don't know the growth in between. And they really don't care, which is understandable. As the audience, we only know what we get — we don't know the in-betweens. It's almost like seeing your nephew that you hadn't seen for years. You only remember him as your little nephew. Then he's taller than you the next time you see him. 

It's like that, but on such a grand scale, I can't imagine what it must be like for you to have millions of people whose mental image of you is when you're 23 or 25.

Yeah. And it's funny because we're almost on two different wavelengths. Even when New Blue Sun dropped, one of the biggest stories, which I didn't understand at first — but then I had to understand — was writers saying, “We wait fucking seventeen years, and he puts this out?” 

To them, they're waiting. But I never said that I was about to put out an album. So in my mind, I'm not trying to be what I was 17 years ago. To me, it's just, life has gone on. It’s almost crazy to think that someone would put something out 17 years later. At ten years, I'm like, “Oh, that's done.” Even for me, I thought I was done. I really thought I was done at a certain point. And here comes a different thing. So that was surprising to me. At first, I was like, why would y’all wait 17 years for anything? And then I'm like, oh, well, that's all they know. I wasn't waiting.

Over the last couple of years leading up to the album, there was this [clip] that became famous, of you walking around and playing the flute in public. Is that something you're still doing? Are you still practicing in public?

I do it still, but it's sad in a way, because now that I've put the album out, when I do it, people expect as if I'm performing in public. But it started as a thing for me. I like to walk. I like to hike. I like to walk, and carry my flute while I do. It was just a thing. 

And so when people started sneaking videos and posting them, it was not a plan or anything. I actually love to play in nature. I love to play when I'm walking, when I find caves or when I find tunnels where the reverb is awesome. I love walking and finding places to play, but now it's almost like I have to sneak off and do it. I have to be away from the public in a way to do it, so it doesn't become a thing. So I don't do it as much as I used to.