B-More, Unbridled: An Interview With Abdu Ali
By Michael Machado and Sarah J. Park
Photo: Michael Machado for Gold Coast Art House
It’s a humid Saturday afternoon in New York and rising Baltimore rapper Abdu Ali stands on a rickety stage at Secret Project Robot, a DIY art gallery and music venue located in industrial Bushwick.
Decked out in a floppy hat and scuffed pink-and-yellow Adidas high-tops, Ali urges the scattered crowd to draw themselves closer before exploding into his set.
All impact and unrefined energy, the eclectic artist sings, spits, and screams hard lyrics over thumping dancefloor-ready beats set at 130 BPM. As Ali growls into the microphone, he thrashes and two-steps around on stage, a bright sweaty blur of reds, yellows and blues. This is Baltimore Club music and Ali is its new face.
Cultivated alongside house music during the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, Baltimore club relies heavily on repetitive vocal samples, yet what sets Ali apart in the scene are his empowering original lyrics. From Sailor Moon references to reaffirmations that celebrate being black and queer, his lyrics are “in-your-face,” provocative and sexually expressive.
“The reason why people from Baltimore create really unique music is because we have no rules. You know, we do what we want,” the 25-year-old rapper tells us after he’s stepped off stage. According to Ali, the “hard-hitting, provoking, [and] piercing” music of his hometown serves as “a way [for black youth] to escape from the harsh reality of living in Baltimore.” The music, he says, encourages Baltimore’s black youth to rise above the tableau of poverty, drug abuse, rising HIV case rates, and police brutality that unfolds around them daily.
“Dance music can be about poignant shit”- Abdu Ali
In the wake of recent civilian protests calling for justice for Freddie Gray, a 25-year-old African-American man who died after sustaining fatal injuries while in the custody of Baltimore police, it is no secret that Baltimore is burning. And Ali’s sound is just as raw as the city’s still smoking streets.
When the music blogger and writer first got into the game, all he had was a notebook of lyrics. “Low-key I always had an urge to be onstage,” Ali told us. “I just said ‘Fuck it. I’mma start making music.’” Without any music samples, Ali approached and began collaborating with Baltimore club producer DJ Schwarz armed only with lyrics that Schwarz calls “crazy as shit.”
Photo: Michael Machado for Gold Coast Art House
“I look to women in hip-hop to help me write a lot of those kind of lyrics. Especially in the 90’s you had Missy [Elliot] and Lil’ Kim. You know, I’mma own my sexuality. I don’t need a man to validate my sexuality.”
Fighting against sexual oppression isn’t his only battle. On Ali’s track “I, Exist” he compares himself to the pyramids and clouds, defiant against a society that wants to marginalize and eradicate his people. Over a hypnotic beat, the rapper chants “I’m living/I’m living/I’m living forever/Forever/Forever.”
Abdu Ali is creating a narrative to help people “heal and get away from the bullshit” in a uniquely turbulent way. “The fuckery is in your face everyday,” he says. “As a musician, it’s my duty to create real shit, not only from my experience, but people like me. Black people, queer people, whatever.” Citing activist musicians such as Nigerian afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti among his inspirations, Ali says, “We need some diversity honey, we can’t be numbing out. Dance music can be about poignant shit.”
Noteworthy Tracks:
I, Exist
Thornz
Bleed
Machete Warz
Keep up with Abdu Ali on Soundcloud, Twitter and Facebook.





