A Conversion with Blossom Hill & J Appiah: Artistic Identity,Time & Collaboration

J Appiah and Blossom Hill discuss their collaborative project, exploring themes of artistic identity, the influence of time, and the journey of creating music in an algorithm-driven industry.

10.19.2024
Words by:
Rodrick Rahim Chattaika Jr.

A head trip to the crux of artistic identity in the age of capitalism, questioning consistency—or the lack thereof—and the presence of a bottom-up approach. Don't flip it or get it twisted.

An attempt to stop time, or at least understand it. A laced ink letter to the system, friendly yet revealing our truth as the ink dries. A notion for an age dismissing permissibility. An ode to decentralized democracy; the pawns of collaboration win.”

Jesse (J Appiah) and I (Rahim) walked through the center of Berlin to the deep ends of Neukölln one day, discussing the changes we’d like to see and how we can enact them together after being introduced by a mutual friend a few days prior. We spoke of collaborating, as most creative souls often do, but with eased expectations, as sometimes these talks don’t materialize because… life. In the end, we ended up sharing goals and a year together effectively, with Jesse trusting me to open up one of his singles for extended genre exploration through an open-source remix project.

In this interview, J Appiah, Blossom Hill, and Gūle explore the themes of an open grassroots project conducted by the aforementioned, as an extension of J Appiah’s single "One Thirty AM." We delve into themes of genre fluidity, consistency, time, artistic identity, and finding one's place in an algorithm-driven industry.

Rahim: Harry, you’ve lived in Berlin, but your music has London influences too. How has that shaped your sound?

Blossom Hill: Honestly, Berlin didn’t shape my sound as much as you'd think. It was more like a love letter to the UK. Bridging those two worlds—Berlin and London—feels important to me. My previous project, "Home Colours," wasn’t about putting myself on a pedestal as an artist. It was more about collaborating with a team, representing something we all believe in, something that impacted us as teenagers. It's like taking your experiences and sharing them across borders. That’s always fascinated me—how crossing different sounds and cultures can yield interesting results. It’s something I’m proud to be a part of.

Rahim No matter where you go—New York or Bogota—you always find someone you know, and this spirit of collaboration leads to an emerging, unidentifiable sound. Like, what's Bristol, what's London, what's Berlin? 

So, let’s move on to the One Thirty AM project and its philosophy. Jesse and I talked about this earlier—starting with grassroots, then discussing the industry, technology, time, and identity. We initially opened it up to collaborate fluidly with more people. Another key part is the SD card, where the songs will be stored. DJs and producers can access the music to collaborate without buying it. It's like open-source music. What do you think? Since collaboration is a big part of your process too.

Blossom Hill: Yeah, I think it's amazing to see how people interpret things, put their voice in, and recontextualize it. The context—whether it’s Berlin or the UK—changes everything: the energy, BPM, aesthetics, and even the vibe. The way people perceive dance tracks or ambient music can vary so much. Context informs how we interpret music and people's emotions. It's similar to storytelling, where a sentiment morphs over time, influenced by people's experiences. Music can do the same, and ongoing remixes encase that evolution.

Rahim: Jesse, anything to add?

J Appiah: Yeah, man. You’re absolutely right. Music is communal—whether in churches, mosques, or football games, it’s something to be shared. This idea of making tracks open-source and creating a community or collaborative approach is really interesting. Technology is making it more possible to share stems and let others contribute. The electronic music world, in particular, is great at taking a nugget of an idea and evolving it through remixes.

Rahim: What are your main influences when creating a specific sound? Is it tied to a specific city? For example, Space Afrika's ambient design is influenced by the murky nights of Manchester. How about for you?

J Appiah: That’s a tough question. In 2024, we have so much access to music and information. For me, it’s London. It's an inner-city sound—very eclectic because so many cultures come together in the city. The clash of culture, food, and people influences the music. My Ghanaian heritage also plays a role, especially drums, and I’m drawn to textured, slightly off-centre sounds. All of that finds its way into my music.

Rahim: How do you see the music industry moving forward? What changes would you like to see in how people consume or perceive music? Do we need more transparency?

J Appiah: That’s a big question. Social media has allowed for micro-labels, essentially creating micro-businesses. Instead of funnelling through the big majors like in the '70s and '80s, people are building their own infrastructures. It’s like a bespoke shop—you have your product, and you figure out how to tell a story around it. It’s great because it gives artists more creative freedom and autonomy. But it’s also important for artists to learn the business side. So many were exploited because they didn’t understand the business. Now, we’re learning more about revenue streams, publishing, and how the music infrastructure works. I think it’s fluid, and accessing or cultivating your audience directly is amazing. I hope more artists form mini-labels and support other artists in their communities, creating grassroots collectives.

Blossom Hill: Yeah, I really resonate with that, especially the fragmentation of the bigger corporate structures. So many new ideas and micro-labels have emerged. They almost become genres in themselves as they try to define these little subgenres. I don’t think that would’ve been possible without this new structure. Personally, I came into music during the golden age of SoundCloud, where people with zero visibility could quickly gain traction. It’s not the same now, but having something like that—a shop window directing people to ways to monetize their music—would be amazing. I’d love to see a structure like that become commonplace again. It would reignite my hope for the industry. Also, making more information accessible would help, especially with the label stuff. I’ve had to learn a lot by making mistakes and figuring things out as I go.

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