Unearthing the Spooky, Singular Sound of ANKHLEJOHN

Words by Peyton Chandler

On the evening of Friday, Oct. 8, D.C. rapper, ANKHLEJOHN walked into The Spot RVA, a storefront turned music venue in the Arts District of downtown Richmond, VA. Hauling a large box of his own for-sale vinyl records, CDs, cassette tapes, and t-shirts, ANKHLEJOHN (pronounced “annk-uhl-john”) was on the scene to perform for a live audience — something he had done only a few times since the onset of the pandemic. And there I stood at the threshold of the door, greeting him as he walked in, embarrassingly nervous to be in close proximity to the artist whose music had dominated my Spotify rotation over the past year.

Thanks to the generous team at The RVA Boombox, I was fortunate enough to receive a press pass to cover this event as photographer and “correspondent,” on behalf of Soul in Stereo. My hope was to have a personal encounter with ANKHLEJOHN, in his element, and in his artistic environment, so as to more personally introduce him to those unfamiliar, or perhaps still asleep.

To be sure, introducing such an artist is difficult work. If I were to reduce his music by way of comparing it to that of a more “familiar” artist, I might say, “He reminds me of Ghostface.” And if I were to describe him in light of certain preconceptions of the broad landscape of hip-hop, I might say, “He’s an aggressive yet soulful ‘underground’ lyricist from D.C.” However, I struggle to palate either explanation, as both simplify and undermine the brilliant singularity of this 28-year-old MC, who I personally consider to be the most infatuating “new rapper” within the hip-hop umbrella. But, please understand (as I intentionally contradict myself), ANKHLEJOHN is not “new.” He was sure to explain this to me when we spoke on the night of Oct. 8. Before I proceed, let me pump the brakes and zoom out for a brief spiel about “underground” or “alternative” hip-hop, as it pertains to this anomalous MC.

The term “underground” has, for years, intrigued and confused me as a rap enthusiast. In my youth, I literally thought this term referred to rap artists hiding out in underground channels, crafting “dungeon orchestras” away from the world of the Jay-Zs, the 50s, and the Kanyes. In literal terms, underground might most directly refer to rap music outside the general commercial canon, orchestrated by artists signed to independent labels, or to no labels at all. We could say that underground rap is inventive, abstract, or avant-garde. We might even recognize it by other names like, “alternative hip-hop,” “low-fi,” or “conscious rap.” But what’s become clearer over time is that underground — if it means anything at all — simply refers to whatever the day’s “popular rap music” is not.

Ultimately, the designation of underground as a subgenre is relative to the fact that there must be, by contrast, an “above ground” (surface level?) version of rap music that is more routinely and broadly received by music fans. Surely, then, it is not a major stretch to suggest that “pop rap” is more familiar to us, and therefore, easier to pinpoint and track over time. Music fans who don’t consider themselves to be deeply knowledgeable about hip-hop history would probably know that 2Pac was both a superstar and also died in the 90s, Snoop Dogg and Pharrell made “Drop It Like It’s Hot,” Kanye popularized shutter shades and had teddy bears on multiple album covers, and so on. Again, these are the artists that have long stood as fixtures at the intersection of hip-hop and pop culture. However, the same music fans who are familiar with artists like these may never have heard names like MF DOOM, Pharoahe Monch, or Mach-Hommy (gasp!). 

So, what has sustained this subgenre of hip-hop? More importantly, what continues to usher it forward in this “streaming age” where rap has kicked down doors and literally become pop music? Call me romantic, but I believe alternative or underground rap’s longevity and constant state of motion has everything to do with the value of the art itself. To be clear, I do still appreciate some elements of popular, mainstream rap music. But where such artists might find themselves beholden to charts, streams, record labels, and awards season, those MCs more in-line with the alternative lane might be empowered to paint a different sort of picture, focusing their attention on creating something new, vibrant, or substantive. In a similar way that the phrase “cult classic” refers to films that performed specific “cultural work,” and are remembered as being “of high artistic value,” alternative or underground rap artists have and continue to carve out unique lanes for themselves, creating music that is, in its nature, long-range and artistically incessant.

Thank you for bearing with my long-winded trek through hip-hop semantics. I wanted to acknowledge and explain my personal and biased understanding of the context within which I first encountered ANKHLEJOHN. I often joke (but I’m not joking) that I’m a “self-appointed hip-hop historian.” And as I’ve matured in this role, I must admit that, although I acknowledge its utility, I’ve lost a great deal of interest in mainstream rap (even while I will go to my grave with a Young Thug song in my heart). Personally, as a 27-year-old music consumer, underground or alternative hip-hop is my “true love”— it is that which moves, excites, challenges, and inspires me more than any other art form. In light of this, I feel necessarily preoccupied by a “new” (as in, “gaining public attention” and “new to me”) wave of alternative rap artists who seem to be pushing the genre forward through deeply innovative means. Of course, within this camp, no artist has captured my interest quite like ANKHLEJOHN.

Surprisingly, I do recall the exact moment I discovered ANKH’s music. In September of 2020, while scrolling mindlessly through Instagram (my favorite pastime), I noticed a video clip on Earl Sweatshirt’s story. Those that know me also know of my deep affinity for Earl’s music. In some ways, Earl has served as the funnel through which I’ve discovered some of my favorite artists over the years (Vince Staples, Flying Lotus, Mach-Hommy, Boldy James, Navy Blue, Wiki, and others).

This would, yet again, prove true with this mysterious character rapping in an off-kilter style over a piano-heavy instrumental on Earl’s Instagram story. This character was ANKHLEJOHN, and the clip was from the music video for a track titled, “Man on a Mission.” I had heard enough in 30 seconds to think, “I’ve never heard anything quite like this.” I immediately began my research by way of a deep dive into ANKHLEJOHN’s discography. When I arrived on his Spotify page, I was overwhelmed at just how much music he had released in a very short amount of time. “Overwhelmed” because this meant I had a lot of work to do, and that I was “late to the party.”

Nonetheless, I was excited to explore this “new” MC’s very dense body of work. After all, this was September of 2020 (peak pandemic), and I had plenty of time on my hands. On Spotify, I counted 13 full-length albums that ANKH had released between 2017 and April of 2020—six of which had been released between 2019 and 2020. Being that it was the only track I had heard, I first searched for “Man on a Mission,” but my search yielded no results.

This particular song was not yet released, and would land on ANKH’s fall 2020 album, As Above, So Below, a collaboration with rapper/producer Navy Blue. So, as I typically do when it comes to exploring a “new” artist’s work, I began listening to his latest album (at that time, 2020’s The Face of Jason) and worked backwards. Over the next several weeks, I became gradually obsessed with the dark, grimy sound of this D.C. rapper, who had somehow managed to release a career’s worth of quality records in only a few years’ time. For those already eager to explore the variety of this man’s catalogue, I’ve taken the liberty of putting together a “Beginner’s Guide” Spotify playlist (20 of my favorite ANKH tracks pulled from various albums) for you, HERE.

When you explore his full catalogue, you’ll notice that each of his projects are distinct and unique from the rest. Some albums have overt and overarching themes or concepts, while others may not. There is certainly a great deal of range across his musical library. And yet, on each record, he explores a handful of repeated themes, in which he finds his grounding. In this, ANKH creates a reliable character and narrator who is, yet, always exposing his listeners to new sounds and subject matter.

With every ANKHLEJOHN project, and in varying degrees, you can expect a few things: spooky sounds, soul samples, a tapestry of adlibs layered in the background of most songs, intricate production, references to some of his favorite things (his family, Stone Island, wagyu beef, D.C.), street narratives, world-building, BARS, BARS, and also BARS. But to be clear, the final product of an ANKHLEJOHN album is, in many ways, greater than the sum of its parts. And regardless of which producer(s) he works with, ANKH’s flow tends to maintain a unique sort of relationship to the instrumentation. In the coming together of the beats he chooses, his flow is sometimes aggressive, sometimes off-kilter, sometimes melodic, sometimes soulful, but always that which brings order and cohesion to a track. It seems that his history as a spoken-word poet helps him establish lyrical authority over certain beats that, on their surface, and to laymen, sound “difficult to rap over.” I often find myself bobbing my head to ANKH’s voice rather than the beat itself. And though it may not seem obvious, this is somewhat rare in hip-hop. While many artists (historically and presently) might follow the lead of, or cater their flow to the tempo of an instrumental, ANKHLEJOHN’s voice is, on many tracks, precisely that which leads the way and sets the tone.

In September of this year, I saw on his Instagram that he was going to be performing live in Richmond, VA on October 8, as part of the “Contribution to the Culture” event, at The Spot RVA, organized by The RVA Boombox. Hosted by Richmond legend, Noah-O, this event boasted an impressive lineup of artists, including ANKHLEJOHN, Koncept Jack$on, Al.Divino, and Richmond’s own, Fly Anakin. After consulting with my loving, supportive wife (the real MVP), I purchased an event ticket, plane ticket, and hotel room. I’m especially grateful to the RVA Boombox team for offering me a press pass, with which I was able to shoot the event, gain backstage access, and spend time with the performing artists. I would be remiss if I failed to direct folks to The RVA Boombox, an online radio station that seeks to provide a 24/7 mix of music, live scheduled programming, artist interviews, featured DJ takeovers, and other contributions to the wide-reaching culture of hip-hop. I owe much of my incredible experience in Richmond to these amazing folks. 

Needless to say (as I’ve already revealed myself to be something of a “superfan”), I was thrilled to be shooting ANKHLEJOHN’s performance, especially in light of the long, pandemic-induced hiatus that he had taken from live music. This was also, for me, a semi-long time coming. I fondly recall, in October of 2020, “virtually attending” an ANKHLEJOHN livestream concert at Songbyrd Music House in D.C. From my laptop screen in our Birmingham apartment, my wife and I watched him perform a full set for an entirely virtual audience. In those days of the pandemic, I was thrilled to have “attended” something other than a Zoom meeting. But, of course, I hoped I might someday experience an actual, in-person ANKHLEJOHN show.

After he entered The Spot RVA on Oct. 8, I followed ANKH inside, where he immediately set up his merch table. He, modestly enough, stood among the audience and watched the opening act’s performance. Standing a few feet away from him, I walked over and introduced myself. The first discernible trait of this notoriously aggressive lyricist was, interestingly enough, his warmth and friendliness. He seemed to recognize me by my name (he and I occasionally trade DMs on Instagram), and greeted me with enthusiasm. It wasn’t too long before a long line of fans seeking autographs had formed, so I told him I’d link back up with him a bit later. One fan in particular had brought a bag full of most (if not all) of ANKHLEJOHN’s albums on vinyl. ANKH signed every single one of them, and seemed honored, not bothered, to do so. At this point, it was about 9 p.m., and ANKH wasn’t set to take the stage until about 10:30 p.m. 

A short while later, we reconnected backstage, where we were able to converse and get to know each other a bit more. During our time together, I asked him a few questions about his 2020 album, The Face of Jason. Again, this was the first album of his that I ever heard, and is one of his most popular (I was thrilled to get my limited edition vinyl copy signed later in the evening). The Face of Jason is, like several of his projects, a concept album — an album with a dominant theme. Throughout, he focuses heavily on lyrical references, tropes, and sounds synonymous with horror films. In his background adlibs layered over much of the album’s tracklist, ANKH embodies Jason Voorhees, mimicking the famous “ki, ki, ki, haa, haa, haa” sound from “Friday the 13th.” The album’s fifth track, “Insomniac,” even features a 25-second intro sample of Betsy Palmer as Mrs. Voorhees from the original 1980 film. I was particularly interested in asking him about the album’s first track, “The Candyman.” In the song’s opening line, ANKH raps, “It took me 10,000 hours to be labeled as a new artist.” This is, of course, a witty allusion to the famous teaching of Malcolm Gladwell that it takes 10,000 hours of practice for someone to master a particular craft. But in ANKHLEJOHN’S case, 10,000 hours later, he’s still widely considered a “new artist.” I asked him to dissect this bar which, in many ways (from an outside fan’s perspective), summarizes the “already & not yet” nature of his artistic identity. 

“That bar is exactly what it says,” he told me. He was open, but lighthearted in expressing the frustration of “putting in 10,000 hours only to be discovered by new supporters, on some ‘new artist’ type of s***. Like, damn, how am I a new artist when I put in years of work?” In responding to his own rhetorical questions, he reminded me that all artists go through some form of this struggle. “There’s artists out here that’ve been doing this for 20,000 or 30,000 hours, then land on a [streaming] platform, and they blow up, and in that way, they’re becoming a ‘new artist.’ For example, when they have awards for ‘Best New Artist’ at hip-hop award shows, they present a list of artists who have obviously been putting in work for a very long time.”

Ultimately, ANKH’s conclusion from this portion of our conversation came through his resting in the fact that any attempt at labeling art will always prove insufficient. So, for his sake, even while he pursues ambitious goals for his career as a musician, he seems to chase no desire to “perform” or “box in” his music in order for it to be easily labeled or understood. As he reminded me, the public will always interpret music as they understand it, not necessarily as it is. 

The grind of ANKHLEJOHN has only continued throughout this year, as we now draw near to 2022. His newest record, As a Man Thinketh, was released in September — his third album of 2021. On this new record, and similarly to The Face of Jason, ANKH is diving even deeper into the spooky, nocturnal, “up-to-no-good” sound which has become somewhat emblematic of his music at this point. In light of this, we would be nearsighted not to offer high praise for the variety of producers with whom ANKH has worked in building his impressive, wide-reaching catalogue (All Ceven, Navy Blue, and Van Ghost to name a few). In fact, in large part, it seems that ANKHLEJOHN’s thoughtful selection of instrumentals, and his relationship thereto, is precisely that which has made possible his one-of-a-kind sound.

Also released in 2021 is ANKHLEJOHN’s collaboration album with Rome Streetz, Genesis 1:27, as well as HONEY SWEETER THAN BLOOD, another collaborative project with highly-decorated rapper, Da$H, and fully produced by LOOK DAMIEN!, a gifted producer and close friend of ANKH’s. Again, in further observing the influence of horror films, LOOK DAMIEN!’s producer tags exist as various lines from Holly Palance’s character in the 1976 “cult classic” (there’s that phrase again), The Omen. Note: When you hear “Look at me, Damien!” in the background of a track, you’ve just arrived at a banger. He also served as the on-stage D.J. during ANKH’s Richmond performance. He and I were able to link up and spend some time in conversation as well, and he’s an incredibly generous and authentic person. LOOK DAMIEN! also picks up the mic as an MC under the stage name, K.eye.D. (pronounced “kid”). His next album, BOY GOIN CRAZY, is available on Bandcamp now, and coming to streaming platforms very soon. 

ANKHLEJOHN (with support from LOOK DAMIEN!) eventually took the stage and blew the roof off the venue. The night was, from start to finish, an incredibly unique and special experience for me (a “mountaintop moment”). And, as was hoped and expected, I left Richmond the next afternoon with an even deeper, more personal appreciation for this hard-to-define lane of so-called underground, alternative hip-hop. 

On “Outroduction,” the closing track of As a Man Thinketh, ANKH self-discloses his own music, asserting, “It’s not conscious rap. It’s not gangster, it’s way beyond that.” While leaving us to the mystery of his sound, ANKH is clearer about what his music is not, or better yet, that his music cannot be put in a box of definition. While terms like “conscious rap,” “underground,” “low-fi,” or “alternative” will always prove limiting when describing artists like ANKHLEJOHN, I nonetheless celebrate these artists for creating what popularized mainstream rappers simply cannot. In light of this, and despite the pitfalls of labeling art, I will proceed in labeling ANKHLEJOHN and his camp of peers as “substantial,” “refreshing,” and “crucial” to the ongoing reformation of hip-hop music. 

Friends, in closing, I urge you to enjoy and embrace the rest of “ANKHtober” (a term I coined, but have given to ANKH for his personal use, free of charge). Perhaps over the next several days, you’ll identify with tracks like “Insomniac,” “MORNINGS AT THE MEURICE,” “Count Dracula,” or “Ghost Busters.” Maybe consider playing ANKHLEJOHN’s music for your more maturely-dressed trick-or-treaters. And when we eventually bid farewell to “ANKHtober,” I hope you’ll explore the broader musical artistry on display throughout the whole of ANKHLEJOHN’s discography. It’s okay to be late to the party, just don’t sleep through it. Peace. 

To listen to my “Unearthing ANKHLEJOHN” Spotify Playlist, click HERE.

To watch ANKHLEJOHN’s October, 2020 interview on “Real Late with Peter Rosenberg,” click HERE.

To visit the website for ANKHLEJOHN’s label, Shaap Records, click HERE.

Peyton Chandler is a “hip-hop historian” and overly-opinionated millennial. He’s a student at Vanderbilt Divinity School, pursuing his Master’s of Divinity. He also self-published a book of poetry and photography in 2020, titled, “Urgent Tidings.” A native of Birmingham, AL, he presently lives in Nashville, TN with his wife, Wesley. He can be found on Instagram @pey.chan.

All photos taken by Peyton Chandler at The Spot RVA (Richmond, VA) on October 8, 2021.