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Even on a busy street at rush hour, Tae Dawg’s animated personality seems startling as he calls me to the entrance of an apartment complex on the outskirts of Maryland. Fresh off picking his son up from school he’s full of energy while he waits by the door. Dressed in an all-black outfit with shades of red to complement the cap that’s resting on top of his two-toned dreads, he paces around as we stand by for the receptionist to let us in.
While we ride up the elevator you can feel the 86 billion neurons in his head firing off in every direction. By the time we reach the top floor, Tae begins to relax. Once we get inside the apartment he introduces me to everyone before we go up to the rooftop. The occupants are Ooze Gang, the collective that serves as ground zero for Tae’s artistic ambitions, and they are starting to unwind for the evening with crumbling pure hemp sheets filling up the background. But when Tae Dawg, an emcee from Prince George’s County, MD, walks in he immediately raises the spirit of everyone around him. It’s a quality that has been a part of his persona since youth and it has been translated to the music as well. Whether he’s mashing together chaotic punchlines in typical DMV fashion or exploring the comical aspect in relationships, his charisma remains at the forefront. As one of the founding members of the DMV rap scene, Tae helped construct the aggressive, hostile sound that people could expect from the area, but over the years he’s continued to evolve and hasn’t let that characterization define him.
The first memory Tae can recall of attempting to write a rap is when he was 6-years-old asking for his mom’s approval to say nigga before scribbling lyrics down in a composition book. Then as a mischievous kid he bounced around schools and tried his hand at organized sports. But he always knew music was his calling. Up until the early ‘10s, the most popular way to participate in the music scene in Washington D.C. and its surrounding suburbs was go-go: the fusion of funky percussions with groovy polyrhythms.
When Tae’s friends approached him with the idea he should be the lead mic in a go-go band they were forming, he jumped at the chance. He traded two-a-days for band practice—without a notice to his coaches or mom. Around this time lawmakers also began to crack down harder on the scene, blaming go-go concerts for ongoing violence in the streets and passing a bill that slowly put hotbeds for the music out of business. Fast forward a couple of years later and Tae was seeking out other outlets to express himself. At first battle rap sessions were his conduit but transitioning to the studio led him to working with local producer-legend Sparkheem while he was still working primarily as an engineer.
Before Sparkheem became the go-to producer for when rappers in the area wanted to stray away from their comfort zone it took a while for him to get out of his and start playing beats for Tae, but once he did it was obvious they were a special pairing. Booming instruments would swirl around in the DAW until they were as sinister as possible, providing the perfect springboard for Tae’s loose, eerie raps. The “DMV flow,” an avalanche of punched-in bars filed in quick succession over a beat, has origins that are difficult to trace back. Big Flock, Q Da Fool and Shabazz PBG are the PG County rappers credited with pioneering the flow but Tae Dawg is a source that can’t be overlooked. While other artists used a rigid structure to accompany the flow, he found creases to explore, expand and most importantly have fun within it. On his early mixtapes he maneuvered like he had paddle shifters equipped, cunningly slowing his delivery down until suspense reached its peak and then in an instant ramping up until his voice sounded so heated he could blow out a tire. But just as big collabs and internet hits propelled the scene to a national audience, Tae was left having to serve two years in prison after an attempted murder case was pleaded down to a gun charge. This wouldn’t be his first stint locked up but it would prove to be the most illuminating.
Tae went through the full spectrum of emotions during his incarceration. “I was isolated, literally by myself probably the most I’ve ever been in my life,” he says unequivocally. He experienced joy as he watched Youtube videos of the DMV scene gain traction through a community phone in jail but also had to balance it with dejection as he couldn’t participate. By channeling the pent-up energy into “full self development” Tae came back with a renewed focus and hunger that he admits wasn’t previously there. Since his release in the spring of 2020 he’s dropped six mixtapes, kicking away the procrastination that used to plague him.
Through the stream of projects, what separates the music before the penitentiary and after is Tae’s willingness to not conform to the predictable style of beats that have dominated the DMV in the past several years. Menacing single-note piano loops is what the region has come to be known for but over time the lack of variety has taken away the pizzazz and led to stagnancy in the area. Together with Sparkheem and a host of other producers, Tae Dawg has grown to incorporate the district’s signature go-go rhythms into the production leading to results that are way more fascinating. Their skilled use of crazy drum patterns would make Dave Grohl shed a tear. With the beats constantly transforming it encourages Tae to move like a chameleon and shape shift from track to track. One moment he’ll be throwing out ample threats to keep your head on a swivel; then by the next he’s harmonizing with enough smoothness you’re nodding along to even the most humorous lyrics.
Tae describes his latest mixtape, Rhythm & Ooze, as the “first time he’s locking in on one sound.” Brash tones that usually engulf listeners are exchanged for subdued instrumentals that serve as backdrops rather than taking center stage. It’s analogous to Detroit rapper Baby Smoove’s Purple Heart, in how a regional rapper disrupts their musical status quo for a peek inside their emotions even if it’s only for a brief moment. The evening after Tae Dawg holds a listening party for the project we reconvene under thick gray clouds overlooking a rooftop to discuss the history of Ooze, the law of attraction, and of course our shared home of Prince George’s County over a couple of spiced spliffs for his first ever interview.
