courtesy photo
by Chance Solem-Pfeifer
If the name Max Fischer seems vaguely familiar to Omaha hip-hop fans and yet hard to place, there’s a good reason for that. The emcee, while always writing, took the idea of artistic solitude to the extreme over the last decade. Partly out of a desire for privacy and partly because he didn’t have anything he wanted to share with the world in the form of an album.
But Fischer’s fortunes changed dramatically last year upon encountering a then-20-year-old beatmaker who produces under the moniker Downtown James Brown. With the new EP The Tape Over, Fischer and his companion beatmaker Brown say they think the musical cosmos have aligned for them. So much so that Fischer is stepping into a different spotlight than ever before this Saturday at The Sydney for the release of his EP. And it’s all on the merit of what he and Brown see as lightning in a bottle. They recorded the album in a little more than a week.
“The universe will show you signs, all you have to do is pay attention,” Fischer says of the making of The Tape Over. “When something like that goes so smoothly, it’s like … you feel called to do it, almost.”
Hear Fischer describe his need to make The Tape Over:
Going back 10 years, the birth of Max Fischer — the rapper — is bedroom freestyling sessions, lyrics from hip-hop’s golden age and a slew of old mixtapes. Follow that with a decade of unreleased material that the musician says he “hoarded” for sake of anonymity, self-discovery and to arrive precisely where he is right now.
“For 10 years, I made music that I felt like either due to immaturity or lack of wisdom because of my age … I just wasn’t happy with it,” Fischer says. “I would listen to it and process my life, but I always felt weird having other people hear it.”
Hear the story of Fischer’s rap persona birth:
Last year, when the clock finally struck midnight on Fischer’s creative isolation, Brown began sending Fischer his beats one week when the emcee happened to have some spare time, at home sick with the flu. The results were immediate, Brown says, and the connection for both artists was undeniable.
“It came together pretty smoothly,” Brown says. “It was just us pushing each other with an urge to do some hip-hop that felt genuine and real.”
“I think when you collaborate on something with a person, you either work well together or you don’t, it’s really obvious,” Fischer adds. “Those years were years of preparation to finally put this record out and when I heard James’ beats, it was happening.”
Brown’s beats, particularly those featured on The Tape Over, are cut from vinyl soul records, which Brown dates between 1965 and 1974. Isaac Hayes is a favorite, accounting for the prominent horn parts on the EP. It’s the music Brown enjoys listening to on his own time, and once he adds extra percussion, a beat must excite him before it ever reaches an emcee.
“Pretty much I put it together and if I’m dancing around in my room or studio … I just wild out to it,” Brown says. “And if I’m wilding out a lot, I’m definitely gonna send it over.”
Hear what qualities Fischer finds appealing in Brown’s work:
But not all of what Fischer appreciates about the beats is so technical.
“There is an intangible quality about beats, though, that will draw me in (and) inspire me,” Fischer says. “And I’m super picky in that way. A beat can be OK, but I think there’s something about (Brown’s) style, the samples he chooses and the heart and soul of the way it’s put together.”
And though The Tape Over is musically bound and made uniform through Brown’s half of the bargain, it’s split nearly down the middle by two contrasting lyrical strains from Fischer. The EP’s first four tracks take on Fischer’s long-honed battling voice, asserting his swagger with songs like “Cobra Clutch” and “Most Rappers Can’t.” The last two trade a bit of swagger for sentiment.
Hear Fischer discuss the organization and themes of The Tape Over:
Fischer explains the parade of “thank yous” in the album’s last track, “The List,” as his most powerful form expression and gratitude for all the people who’ve supported him through the years.
“If I was a florist, I could put together a beautiful bouquet for a person to say ‘thank you,’” he says. “This is just my way of expressing myself. My friends will tell me when they hear a shout out in a song, they cry. Good. That’s how I want you to feel. Thanks for being my friend.”
The internal contrasts and the multi-dimensionality of Max Fischer is something the rapper attempts to embrace repeatedly on the record, declaring in different songs that he’s part “thug,” “hipster,” “jock” and “geek.” Fischer says that emphasizing all sides of himself was important for the honesty and vitality of The Tape Over.
“When I write a verse and I’m spitting it and putting everything into it, it usually reflects me in some way,” he says. “When I spit, there are a lot of words in there and they’re very emotionally driven. And a lot of it is about me and my life and not all of that has been sweet or pleasant or enjoyable or happy. You put yourself out there and everyone can see you and that’s it. I am who I am.”
Were Fischer and Brown to collaborate on a record again, the rapper estimates they would likely lean “more conceptual” — a la ‘The List” and “The Get Back” — for the whole project. Still, for The Tape Over, those two tracks highlight many of Fischer’s overarching thoughts about the EP: first, that he was beckoned back into public to make and perform it and second, that he has much to be grateful for.
“So for some reason, I’ve been given the gift of rap and I’m super thankful for it, which is another reason we had to put this record out,” he says. “I feel like if I didn’t in my life put out one record that I was super happy with as a complete project, I would look back at my life and say, ‘Dude, what’s wrong with you. What are you afraid of?’”
Chance Solem-Pfeifer is a Hear Nebraska intern. He might have to search “Cobra Clutch” on Urban Dictionary. Who knows? Reach him at chancesp@hearnebraska.org.