Bktherula
Words: Atoosa Moinzadeh
Photos: Michael Tyrone Delaney
Styling: Mizuki Horigome
PUBLISHED SPRING 2024/BRICK MAGAZINE
Hey God,
You see what’s going on, and if I’m honest, I’m worried and overthinking this. I feel paralyzed to make a decision by my analysis of all that could happen. I’m having conversations with my emotions, and I’m creating nightmares. I’m trying to find a way to fix this, but every conclusion ends in disaster.
‡‡‡
BACKLIT BY A warm-toned flood light, Bktherula is seated in her manager’s office in Los Angeles, CA when she tells me she’s been reciting Solomon Jordan’s A Prayer for Overthinking a lot lately. Just three weeks ago, the rapper left her home in Atlanta to live in the sunny metropolis, and is currently putting the finishing touches on her forthcoming album, LVL5 Pt. 2. Behind her, a whiteboard scrawled with track titles comes into focus. “When I’m working on an album, I overthink everything,” Bk says. “When you're doing good, when you're doing really, really good—well, I kind of am—I’m not sure why—you get a sense of sadness or doubt, but it's not really your thoughts. It's not. It's just the devil. So when that happens, I pray.”
Aside from an unexpected case of food poisoning (“I'mma G up,” she insists. “I got it”) Bk tells me an afternoon spent holed up in her label’s HQ has been routine since moving to LA. “I've been working so much,” she says.”I would say that work has consumed my entire life. That’s not in a bad way though. I would say this is the most productive I've ever been.” After first going viral on SoundCloud in 2018, the 21-year-old has gone from being a teenager performing in Atlanta’s underground circuit, to becoming a local star, to now a national enigma. Throughout it all, she’s released four deeply intentional albums—Love Santana, Nirvana, Love Black, and LVL5 Pt.1—each representing a chapter in a life that’s already a compendium’s worth.
Unbridled creativity—what journalist Timmhotep Aku likened to “lightning in a bottle”—is what has allowed Bk to release music back to back without using the same trick twice or caving to the extractive industry. The multi-persona rapper (Tanya, Rue SanTan, TheRula, and Tanjenica to name a few) is now poised to release her most electrifying songs yet on LVL5 Pt. 2. To the spiritually attuned artist, making music is like a higher calling, one that’s only grown stronger as she’s matured. “My best songs are usually the ones that I feel the best when I'm making them,” she says of making the project’s first single, “CRAYON.” She fiddles with the diamond studded cross pendant around her neck. “It's like a specific chill that I feel up my spine … it ends up being fucking insane.”
“[My team] didn't want me to drop that song,” she adds. “But I did it anyway. And I think it just gives the song more meaning now because… I knew it, you know what I'm saying? I felt like it was just a way of letting me know that I should never go against my gut.”
‡‡‡
I need You to help me find peace in the chaos of this situation because my thoughts are crashing against the peace of my heart, and it’s hard to find rest. Help me to calm the wind and waves of my mind so that I may hear your voice.
‡‡‡
“LEVEL 5” REFERS TO “somewhere in the fifth dimension,” a mysterious place and mindset that Bk “discovered” and rooted herself in at the age of 16. Born Brooklyn Rodriguez in Atlanta, GA—her father a member of rap group Planet X; her mother a singer—she was already recording her first songs at the age of nine. Bk often alludes to difficult experiences beyond her control that hardened her in childhood. “I guess for not being like everyone else,” she told The FACE when detailing her early memories of bullying. “I just wasn’t trying to dress like other n****s or talk like other n****s.” Having a go-to support system in her parents undoubtedly helped Bk embrace who she was. “I'm quite the crazy person, literally insane,” the rapper laughs, referring to both of her parents as “angels.” “I'm a good kid, but I'm wild, and my dad gets that about me and he lets me be wild.”
Defiant and unorthodox, Bk still draws from Atlanta’s rap lineage—plugg, New Atlanta, rage, and beyond—which can be heard in her experimental melodies, affinity for vocal distortion, and gritty bravado have merged to create what she calls “mantra music.” These songs have shaped the sound of her generation, as she channels her rite of passage, cranked to 1,000—similar to other rappers who drew up in the public eye, like drill pioneer Chief Keef and “teenrager” Matt Ox. And much like them, the preservation of Bk’s value system and free way of making music is top priority. Her insistence on collaborating long term with female peers who stylistically differ from her like Monaleo, TiaCorine, and Flo Milli in an industry deeply imbued with misogynoir is no exception, either.
“I do identify as a pioneer in Atlanta rap music.” A couple days after our conversation, Bk sent me a voice note when I asked her to clarify how she views her own legacy. “Why? Because I created a sound and space for women in rap.” She foresees the next generation forging a path similar to her own: “I see the trajectory heading into a fearless and free state of music as the years go on, as the kids continue to find new ways to create insane things.”
‡‡‡
You never said there would not be storms, but You did teach me that I could rest in a storm knowing that if You are with me, I can walk on what is trying to drown me.
‡‡‡
“A LOT OF times people are mad at God and they're like, ‘Yo, where's my shit? I prayed for this. Where's it at?’” Bk says as she unpacks the importance of Jordan’s prayer. “But it's not about that. It's just that you can't bring that demon into your blessing, whether it's a person, whether it's a habit, you can't bring that there because then it's not even really it.”
There were “300 to 400 songs” in the running for LVL5 Pt.2, epitomizing Bk’s core belief that “there is no final form” when it comes to her artistic growth. “I was just kind of dropping music and not taking my time,” Bk remembers of her original process, which she’s had to adapt to involve a full creative team. “Let's just say that I was a little bit less patient back in the day with dropping. Now, it's a longer process for sure, but the music is high, high, high quality now.” Even amidst raising the stakes, Bk makes sure that divinity is imbued in everything she creates: “I set intentions with each song I record,” she explains. “On this album, I’ve kind of been portraying myself in a light that my fans haven't seen too much. I usually have only one or two slow tracks, but this one is actually filled with a lot of real raw emotions.”
“The Way” is one such track off LVL5 Pt.2, in which she’s speaking to someone she loves: “I still do love them,” Bk asserts. “But it was a way of expressing what I see in a person that they didn't see in themselves,” she tells me. “Words are not enough. No one will ever see themselves the way that you see them. You can't force it. And I think this person just didn't believe they were good and they didn't believe that they were to be hyped about, but they really were, and they didn't see it, but I saw it. I used to fear being too vulnerable on my songs, I was afraid to open up. But there's definitely beauty in that.”
I ask Bk to explain her relationship to a concept she keeps bringing up in our conversation: Timing. “I think I'm ready for commitment now,” she says. A gifted, uncontainable spirit, Bk’s journey towards self-betterment is a lifelong one. “I had this thing where I felt like I could do it all by myself. That's just ego, honestly. Having people around me that are supporting me is a blessing from Him as well.” In that moment, it became clear that the devil never really stood a chance.
EXCERPTS COURTESY HEY GOD VOLUME 3: AUTHENTIC PRAYERS FOR EVERYDAY LIFE BY SOLOMON JORDAN