MALIK RUFF by Quadry

Malik Ruff is Quadry’s biggest statement and his most intimate work. It’s an experimental Southern rap album that’s also a contemplative dance record. It’s a portrait of young black life in Baton Rouge, but anyone should be able to relate. It’s the hip-hop LP snuck into a neo-soul night. It’s the indie-rock record in Prince’s collection. Who is Malik Ruff? He’s Quadry, but a metaphor, a character. Who’s Quadry?

Quadry Winters, 23, started rapping before his years hit double digits. It might have been dreams of jewelry and attention, rapt audiences and sleek suits—and it was. Watching the BET Awards, a young Quadry noticed the respect given to artists onstage and on the red carpet. It looked pretty good. And growing up in Baton Rouge, La., he had local hip-hop role models on the national stage: hometown icon Boosie Badazz and New Orleans neighbor Lil Wayne. As a teenager, Quadry released a series of now-hard-to-find mixtapes, even producing his own beats for a spell. All that led to Dopè, which brought him attention outside of Louisiana in 2014. Then he met Tev’n.

Quadry first heard London producer Tev’n’s music with soul singer-songwriter Celeste. Looking to add more R&B influence to his own work, Quadry and Tev’n wrote the America, Me album together, which was released in 2016. By the age of 21, Quadry had started working with TDE management and, in Tev’n, found the 40 to his Drake.

Malik Ruff was made in Los Angeles, across the street from where Kanye West and Frank Ocean have recorded their own classics (The College Dropout and Channel Orange, respectively). In LA, new collaborators dropped by the studio, adding to Quadry’s unique vision for the record. Inspired by the far-out sounds of To Pimp A Butterfly and the genre-defying tastes of Atlanta’s the Dungeon Family, Quadry designed the music using an unlikely palette. The music stays true to his Southern roots with blues, folk, and funk influences, while pushing hip-hop boundaries.

Some of those new collaborators included Steve Lacy of The Internet, who produced the mesmerizing “1:04 PM.” Over a guitar riff that could have been a 90s alt-rock hit or an obscure Bandcamp find, Quadry raps about complex demands and sings about simple pleasures: "But we ride Benz though, got white friends though/ Got a little change in the bank, donate couple birds from the place/ that we came on holidays, oh yeah/ But is this shit enough? From the looks it don’t seem so."

Multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Teo Halm is another contributor, adding a sweet, wobbly hook to “Momma,” which is about the person who gave Quadry a love for music. “Cross (New Shoes),” an anthem for sneakerheads, features the Black Party, a soul singer cut from the same blues cloth as B.B. King. All these different voices (Ida'ye, BoyBoy, DJ Dahi, Skhye Hutch, and Dylan Brady to name just a few more) add a melodic sensibility to Quadry’s artistry.

Malik Ruff is soaked in Baton Rouge humidity. Its tracks are interspersed with ambient recordings of restless water and Quadry talking with his friends at home. The songs tackle everyday issues for the artist and his circle. The Tev’n-produced “Louis” is about the degradation of innocence and breaks down the relationship between violence and power: “That’s why I keep two on me now/ Hot rod, I need two to hold me down/ I might catch a case and go to trial.” It’s a day-in-the-life period piece about young adults playing football and talking about their dreams, all while having a semi-automatic weapon in the trunk. “Back home, it’s just the cost of doing life,” Quadry says. “When I come to LA, I see that it’s not normal. It’s not normal for your friends to die—tomorrow.”

More than anything, the album is a snapshot of black life in America, and an artifact of Baton Rouge living in this decade. “I wanted to leave a time capsule,” Quadry says. “Twenty years from now, my friends’ kids hearing this album might stumble upon it and be like, ‘Hey! That’s my dad!’ It’s an honest record that they can listen and relate to 20, 40 years in the future. If I never make another album, you can listen to Malik Ruff and get a good sense of where Quadry is from, what he’s doing, and what he wants to do.”

Quadry Winters, 23, started rapping before his years hit double digits. It might have been dreams of jewelry and attention, rapt audiences and sleek suits—and it was. Watching the BET Awards, a young Quadry noticed the respect given to artists onstage and on the red carpet. It looked pretty good. And growing up in Baton Rouge, La., he had local hip-hop role models on the national stage.