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Magic Behind the Music

Torrentiiial
By Evangeline Cook
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Scene One

It had been a month since his new album, “Hell and Hi Water”, was released, and although it made over 1,000 sales, it’s been over a month since Noah Kaululaau, also known as Torrentiiial, had been booked for a show and he can’t help but to wonder if people are actually listening to his album, or better yet enjoying it. 

Torrentiiial released his debut album in February 

On March 9th, in the middle of scribbling curves and zig zags all over his notebook while trying to write a song, Noah’s phone rang. “Yo Whatsup Doug?!” Noah answered in his cheery manner. The phone call lasted all but 2 minutes when Noah looked at me and said

 

“Cheeee I got a gig!” 

 

Unlike places such as L.A. and Chicago where the rap scene is flourishing, established rappers such as Maurice Blackwell (also known as Stood), Jerome Williams (also known as Jerxme) and many other local rappers, feel that the rap scene in Hawaii has a long way to come. For instance, according to mele.com, a database for professional musicians in Hawaii, only 12 hip-hop artists have been able to become professional in Hawaii, whereas over 50 different hip-hop artists exist in L.A.

 

“Rap don’t pay bills,” Stood said. Stood was born and raised in Nanakuli, runs a clothing line called Foolsknow, produces music for himself and others and works as a promoter, all in between rapping and writing his own music. And he isn’t the only rapper in Hawaii that has a full plate in front of them while still trying to focus on their music. Almost 100 percent of the rappers that work out of Hawaii and plan to stay here long term are dipping their hands in many areas of the arts, according to BAMP Project promoter and rapper, Kris Ancheta. And if that isn’t enough, they are working industry jobs just to get by, like Noah.

"Rap don't pay bills,"

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Noah

I spent hours reading through every caption on his Instagram before we met in person, and I came to the conclusion that he was probably just as edgy and angry as he looks in all of his photos.

But instagram relationships are completely superficial. I learned that the first time I met Noah Kaululaau, also known as Torrentiiial (with 3 i’s). It was an hour before sunset when Noah calmly strutted up the stairs of Aloha Tower, where we decided to have our first interview. Until today, Noah and I had only ever communicated through Instagram, in-between his busy schedule of work and music. With his blue tinted Ray-bans, style and confidence poured out of every ounce of his being, especially his tall, proud walk. And his smile, a smile so big and genuine, you almost feel like you are experiencing joy for the first time. As Noah approached me with a warming hug, he glanced over at my camera that was set up on a tripod for our interview. “I feel like this is a big deal, like I’m gonna be in the Rolling Stone or something!” Kaululaau shouted in an overly exasperated manner. 

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Unfortunately, Noah and I are both far from being featured in the Rolling Stone. But that’s the thing about Noah, he lives every day like he’s living the dream, even if he hasn’t quite made it there yet. Because becoming an established rapper, especially in Hawaii, takes more than just writing a good song, and if there is one theme that is consistent in the rap scene, it’s that no time is free time. If he isn’t writing music, Noah is out supporting his fellow artists, and if he’s not doing that, he’s supporting himself. That goes for just about every rapper in Hawaii. 

On one day in particular, Feb. 7 to be exact, Noah shed a glimpse of weakness, which was fairly unusual, as he dragged his feet along the floor of the recording studio with his head hanging low and very distinct bags under his eyes. “I don’t want to go to work tonight,” he said while simultaneously flopping his body sideways onto the couch next to him.

 

Like most days, Noah woke up at 7 a.m. to finalize some new rap songs before his recording session. But first, coffee. At precisely 8:15, he makes himself a light breakfast, almost always eggs and toast. By 9 a.m. he is calling an Uber to his recording studio in Manoa, where musical engineer, Matt Brewster, works the sound table and records him. 

 

Brewster, originally from New York City, rents a house, with his girlfriend and two dogs, at the very end of the long and winding road that leads into Manoa Valley. With creativity at hand, Brewster and his girlfriend turned their basement into a recording studio with a view that looks out over the valley. “How could you not write a good song with that view,” Brewster said while touring his studio. 

   

Noah sat in what he calls his “thinking corner” flipping through his notes section of his iPhone, trying to decide what song he wants to work on first. Suddenly he laughs and recalls an encounter he had last week with his Swahili neighbor, who always seemed to have something out of the ordinary to say. 

 

“So Rose came up to me the other day when I was outside,” Noah said to Matt. “She literally came up to me and put her finger on my chest and stared at me, and she said ‘you, have a heart of a lion. God gave it to you, and you… you can’t give it to anybody else,’.”

 

“What the hell does THAT mean?” Matt laughed and yelled at the same time.

    

“I don’t know, but it’s gonna make a damn good line in my song,” Noah replied.

    

After 5 hours of recording, with a quick lunch break featuring microwavable mac and cheese, Noah knew his day wasn’t quite over with. His shift at Tony Roma’s as a busboy starts at 3 p.m., and he doesn’t make it home from work until around 12:30 a.m. As much as he would like to go straight to bed after work, his mind is running out of control with thought after thought until at least 2 a.m., when finally…

 

BUZZZZ 7 A.M. ALARM

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Scene Three

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Sunday March 11,

 

The artists gathered on the stage together to set up for the night ahead. Leelu, a female rapper, Jerxme, Quality and Big Mox, all local artists from Honolulu, discussed the order they would perform. Although Noah isn’t performing tonight, he chooses to make an appearance at these events in order to support other artists that have the same goals as him. By going to this event and others like it, Noah has made several connections and has even had the chance to collaborate with another young rapper, Kaleo Hew-Len, also known as Young Sire, who was also featured on Noah’s album.

    

Quality and Jerxme have been putting together a rap show every Sunday night, called Night Service, at On Stage on Kapahulu. Each week they gather new artists from around the island as a way to build what most local rappers call the “premature” rap scene here in Hawaii.

“There’s a lack of knowledge in the rap world here, I would say,”

 

Jerxme said that night. “Everybody’s still trying to learn what to do, how to act.” Jerxme and Noah alike believe that the music in Hawaii is very deeply rooted in reggae. “There’s definitely a disconnect between reggae and hip-hop, but if hip-hop learns how to connect to the roots embedded in reggae culture, if it just steps back and takes in Hawaii and its culture, hip-hop and rap will have no problem flourishing.” But until this cultural awareness overcomes the rap community, rappers in Hawaii are doing it all for love, like they do at their free show every Sunday.

 

In a recent article published by the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Dr. Caroline West, professor of psychology at the University of Washington, said that hip-hop music is only “part of the problem” and if it isn’t addressed, many young people won’t know how to function in society. With this negative stigma surrounding the world of hip-hop, you can imagine Noah’s mom was not pleased when she heard the news that her son would not be attending college at the University of Hawaii, and instead he would be pursuing his dreams of becoming a rapper. “I wanted to be a lawyer before I ever dreamt of becoming a rapper,” Noah said. “I used to argue with my mom all the time and she would always tell me I would make a good lawyer, so I thought maybe I’d go to school for that.” 

 

But that changed as Noah entered his senior year of high school and found himself writing down his thoughts everyday. Soon those thoughts turned into raps, and that’s when he knew that’s what he always wanted to be doing.

 

“You don’t hear of that happening too often on Kauai, so my mom was like ‘uhhhhhh excuse me?’” Noah explained. “Needless to say, she didn’t help me much with my move to the city. I did it all on my own and I look back at that now and feel really like, wow, this is my life,”. 

    

But things took a turn in December of 2016 when his mother lost her job and was no longer able to accommodate to the luxury of residing on Kauai. Without hesitation, Noah took her in, and at the young age of 18, found himself supporting not just one, but two people. “You know, she took care of me my entire life, and although it’s sooner than I imagined, it’s time for me to take care of her now. I just can’t help at times to worry…. is that how it’s gonna be for me? Will I make it as a rapper?”

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Scene Four

March 18th, Doug’s Party

 

Today was the day Noah would be performing for the first time in over a month and he was so excited he hardly slept the night before. But once again he woke up at 7 a.m. Coffee first, breakfast at 8, and off to dress rehearsal at 9:30 a.m. The venue was a pool house in Kahala, right on the beach, where a college party was taking place. He would be performing with rapper, Sire. The party started at noon and they would be on at around 2.

 

Instead of hanging out at the party before his performance started, Noah walked the beach, letting the sand bury his toes with each step. I couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t partying with everyone else, so I followed him. “I don’t know those people. People forget that I’m only 19 years old. I’d rather be out here where it’s quiet, because we both know it’s about to get really loud around here, haha,” Noah said as the water splashed lightly on his legs. 

 

Luckily Doug, the party-thrower, had already warned the neighbors of a rap show that he promised would only last about an hour. 

 

“They said they wouldn’t call the cops as long as it’s done by 3,” Doug said.

 

It was almost 2 o’clock and everyone at the party was screaming and jumping in excitement as Noah and Sire climbed up the ladder to the roof of the pool house, which acted as the stage for their performance. With his cornrows pulled tight and aloha shirt unbuttoned, Noah transformed into Torrentiiial. “Are ya’ll ready for this?” Torrentiiial yelled down to the crowd into his microphone. “Nah, I don’t think they are,” Sire responded to Torrentiiial in his microphone. 

You could feel the excitement running through Noah’s body while the crowd sang along to his top song, “Lady Sapphire”. It was his last song of the set. He danced and jumped so hard that he let the crowd sing most of the chorus every time it came around. And with ecstasy and adrenaline overcoming him, the song ended and Noah backflipped into the pool, fully clothed, with a bottle of champagne in hand. 

 

Noah must have been in the pool for no more than 3 minutes before he was out of site. Nobody had seen him since the jump, myself included.

 

To my surprise, I got a text from Noah that night saying that he had gotten called into work while he was on stage. Noah had about 45 minutes to get home, shower, and head to work. Don’t ask me how he pulled it off, but he did, and back to the studio he went the next morning. 

 

A week after the party, Noah had another recording session with Matt up in Manoa. But today he seemed unusually distraught. During their lunch break I asked him what was on his mind.

 

“At times I really question my own sanity, my own capability, and my sole purpose. I tell myself I have no real me time these days,” Noah reflected as he twirled Top-Ramen noodles onto his fork. “But it’s the music. That’s my me time, that’s my sanity, that’s my purpose. And that’s what Stood meant, that’s what we all mean when we say rap don’t pay bills. Sometimes it pays, sometimes it don’t. But it’s for me and it’s for the people, and I love that. That’s why I do it, that’s why I want to make it to the top.”

"That's why I do it, that's why I want to make it to the top,"

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