Jokamundo is Here
Words by Max Harrison-Caldwell
Adam Burns, the 27-year-old Brooklyn native who raps as Jokamundo, has a lot on his plate. Between his day job at a rehearsal studio, working as an assistant to a mastering engineer, recording his Skating is Hard podcast, and nurturing his budding rap career, he still finds time to skate. I called Burns up to talk about his music process, the role of an outsider voice in the skate podcast landscape, and all the ways in which skateboarding and rap music intersect.
Which did you get into first, skating or making music?
Skateboarding, for sure. I was like ten years old. That was around 2005, 2006.
Then around 16, I was like, “I’m really gonna try to make a song.” I was listening to a lot of MF DOOM. I’ve listened to rap since I started skateboarding, but something about DOOM, maybe the fact that it was so DIY and he made all his own beats and pretty much did it in a home studio, I was like, “Oh, I can just do this on my dad’s GarageBand.” And I just started doing that.
What else were you listening to when you started rapping?
Definitely A Tribe Called Quest, Wu Tang Clan. Before that, I was super into old West Coast gangster rap shit: Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, DJ Quik, and then random shit here and there. Any YouTube recommendation that would come up that was like, ‘old school gangster West Coast hip-hop’, I was listening to that. I was a huge fan of Eazy-E, which is kind of funny because he didn’t write his own music, but he always had dope songs and I love his voice.
Where did the name Jokamundo come from?
That name is some random shit I made up as a kid, just making up words with my brother as a ten-year-old. For some reason that name stuck. The term “jocking” was something we would use a lot, and I think that just turned into Jokamundo. It was my gamer tag on Xbox, then my YouTube channel, and then that was the channel where I started putting out little songs, and I was like okay, I guess I’m Jokamundo.
It’s a name that I have a love/hate relationship with just because it’s so ridiculous, but you will never find someone else with that name. And I think it looks cool too, as a logo.
Jokamundo has the proper flick.
Who are the best and worst skater rappers?
[Laughs] The classic one is our man J. Casanova. I keep on thinking I should check that song out again. The beat is so ridiculous and the rapping is even crazier. You know Steve Olson, Shorty’s Steve Olson? He’s super miracle lyrical spiritual. Tom Penny I guess raps also. He’ll freestyle when he’s hanging out and it’s the most ‘90s underground style, “fuckin’, we gotta uplift the spiritual, smoke some weed,'“ and his voice is so monotone and low. I think someone just posted it recently. Dustin Dollin commented, “I don’t know about the rap.” So sick.
Brandon Turner, didn’t he switch hardflip Carlsbad while talking about a switch hardflip in his song? [8:52]
Yeah, I was gonna ask if you would ever soundtrack your own video part like Brandon Turner.
[Laughs] I’ve thought about that concept, but that’s just too much. You can’t really do that and be serious. “I’m lipsliding the rail now, come through, I’m tre flipping now” — don’t do that.
What about the best and worst rappers who skate?
I mean, he’s kind of the best and worst, but Lil Wayne. He picked it up, he tried to do that Trukfit thing for a little bit, he was skating with Justin Bieber and shit, but it’s kinda cool also. He’s a 30-something year old dude starting to skate and actually getting pretty good.
But nowadays, everyone skates. Just yesterday, I was watching a video from this grime rapper Novelist who I really fuck with, and he was fucking around, hanging out in front of some project houses in England, and tried a front shove. It’s almost like every rapper has skated at some point now.
An example of a rapper, Hopsin, actually doing tricks on a skateboard.
Hopsin was definitely a big one. He’s really good at skating, it’s fucked up. I was psyched on him for like a year and then I was like “Wait, this is the corniest thing on the planet [laughs], but he actually rips.” Maybe I still had a bad taste in my mouth from Lupe Fiasco.
You’re not rocking with “Kick, Push”?
I mean, maybe it’s a better song than I remember, but I just remember that moment. Especially in my area, living in Brooklyn, it was an interesting time. It was actually cool: a lot of young Black kids who maybe wouldn’t have been interested in skating became interested in skating. But there were also kids who were trying to do the new wave of dressing like a skater and wearing Vans.
There were moments where people would yell at you on the street: “Kick push!” And I’m like, “Alright.”
Do you think Odd Future was responsible for that moment too?
I think so. That was a little after the Lupe thing, but that definitely helped. For me, that was high school. I started seeing people wear Supreme a lot more, people were wearing Dickies and Vans. Some kids were picking up skating too. It was cool. Never had there been a Wu Tang-sized rap group where pretty much all of them, at some point, were skaters.
I feel like that legacy has continued too — Sage Elsesser is rapping now as Navy Blue, and he’s a frequent Earl Sweatshirt collaborator.
Yeah, he’s probably one of the best, he’s really good. And, I’m not into his music as much, but Nak is pretty good too.
There’s also this dude 454 who’s rapping, he’s definitely on the come-up. He’s making some cool songs and he’s stupid good at skating. I saw a Blue Park clip where he did a varial heel nosegrind, and it looked good. Shout out to him.
I know you also produce a lot of your own songs. Did you get into producing or rapping first?
It was pretty much the same exact time. That was the MF DOOM influence. I always liked beats a lot, so I’m like, I have this GarageBand thing, it has all these loops and shit, I can just make beats. I’m on Ableton now though [laughs].
Is it important for you to have total control over the sound of your songs?
I mean, if it’s something I’ve created that I feel really connected with. I don’t usually have people collaborate on my beats but I’ll have people check stuff out and maybe give a little feedback.
My friend Melika who I do a band with called madlovely, they started a music collective thing called Public Fruit and they have these little Zoom meetings where a bunch of people we know come together and share music. I’ll share stuff I’m working on, people will give feedback, and that’s definitely good.
It’s something I’ve had to warm up to — back in the day, I definitely thought I had to do every single thing myself. That’s still there, especially with this album I’m working on, but working with Melika has definitely helped me.
Your stuff doesn’t sound anything like a lot of other contemporary New York rap. Are there other rappers in the city you consider peers? Or people that inspire you?
I mean, there are definitely people who I know really close. I have a friend named Pook Hustle — I wouldn’t say we have a similar style but there are similar flavors.
But rappers people would know? I don’t know. Not to make myself seem like some unique, fuckin’, one-of-a-kind person but I do feel like there aren’t people making stuff like me at the moment. And I think that’s because I’m a fuckin’ weirdo and I make weird music.
There are people who influence me who came up around the time I came up. Ratking and Wiki, for a while I was definitely trying to sound like that. That made me think you don’t have to make the typical New York hip-hop. This is not even the typical hip-hop. What the fuck is this? I don’t know.
I feel like Wiki is part of a kind of bars revival movement, like he and other rappers are resisting the trend toward more melody-driven rap — the Playboi Carti-ification of hip-hop or whatever. Would you say you’re in line with that movement?
I think there’s part of me that is trying to be lyrical and say things that are, if not smart, at least funny or interesting. I definitely care about lyrics. But it’s hard to, because I also want to make really great songs. I love those dudes but some people on the more rappy rap tip are just making this, like, stream-of-consciousness rap over a looping beat. That doesn’t always capture my attention.
I really love songs. I love a lot of other music that’s not hip-hop. And I think that influences me more sometimes. Trying to figure out how to make a song, have different parts to it, different sounds you’ve never heard before. And then on top of that I’ll try to rap some interesting stuff. But for me, my focus is the music.
It’s hard for me to write. Those dudes are definitely good at just being rappers. They write all the time, they have verses ready. I’m like, “I’m writing the verse of the month now [laughs].”
It wouldn’t be Village Psychic content without a nod to this place. Only sort of kidding.
Are you working a day job as well?
My day job is working at this rehearsal studio in Brooklyn, basically doing live sound. One of my coworkers is a mastering engineer. He asked me to be his assistant, so I work with him pretty closely. He works with analog equipment — it’s not like Logic or Ableton where you close it and then when you open it, everything comes back together. All the little dials turn, they don’t stay where you want them, so you have to take notes on where you turn all the physical dials because other people use the studio. So I’ll take those notes and he’ll also ask me for feedback sometimes. Shoutout to Rich Morales, Super Fine Audio. He masters all my music.
The first thing you say on the “WORDS” EP is that you came into the club drinking bootleg water. That reminded me of Zack Fox. Would you say humor plays a big role in your music?
Hell yes, big time. I love Zack Fox and his album was fucking incredible. I’m in awe of him — rapping is like, you gotta spit hard bars, but all his shit is just constant one-liners, funny ass shit. I guess if you’re already a comedian, it’s easy for you or something.
But yes, humor is huge for me. I think humor was always a presence in my life. My dad is a funny dude and he had a public access show here in Brooklyn called The Hambone Show that was relatively known super locally. That was a comedy show, and I think that influenced me. I always moved toward comedy with my animations, any art I did, trying to draw funny shit. Even in my music, my favorite rappers are also funny. MF DOOM will say some funny shit. I used to be super into Kool Keith — Kool Keith has songs that had me dying on the floor. I think it’s cool that rap is the super poetic genre where you can say all this crazy deep shit but you can also come out of nowhere with a one-liner.
I don’t take myself too seriously. One of the hardest parts of being an artist is having to promote yourself, to be like, you have to listen to this. I’m like yo, I’m just some fuckin’ guy. My onstage presence is me just talking through the show. I’m not trying to write jokes down, that shit sounds hard, but I’m definitely trying to say funny shit on the mic.
On songs like “FREQ” and “illy,” the focus seems to be more on the bars, and then the new single seems a little more experimental — the mixing, the layering, the whole feeling, it seems a little more melody-driven. Would you say that’s a direction you’re going in?
I would say that’s honestly a direction I’m always going in. Again, do I consider myself one of these bar-for-bar rappers? I think the stuff I’ve been making now is more indicative of who I am as an artist, in that yeah, I love hip-hop and rapping but I also just love music. I love Little Dragon, I love Talking Heads, I love electronic music and house and drum-and-bass and I wanna make music like that too. I think in this project I’m working on — and this new song is a great example — I’m just trying to do everything.
I keep on stressing over this album because I’m like, I hope this sounds like the same artist. Even “AIGHT,” which is the last one I dropped, sounds completely different from “Keep Playing”, but they’ll somehow be on the same album.
I want to make as much shit as I can, basically. I have all these different influences and all these sounds I try, and a lot of that is thanks to madlovely and Melika. I really feel like through that I’ve found a sound that’s a diverse sound, but it’s me. [“Keep Playing”] is mad different but it’s very much me, and I’ve been trying to make a song like that for a while.
Cover art made by Jokamundo for an album that he wrote, performed, produced recorded, and mixed, in typical Jokamundo fashion.
Are skating and making music similar as creative outlets?
I’ve been thinking about that. At least for me, it’s similar in that you can do it really freely. You can skate in a circle, ollie up a curb, skate down the street, do whatever. And with music you can play a melody, freestyle, do whatever, and make a cool thing.
But there’s also this element to both of them where it’s like, “Here’s a song. Here’s a video part. Now I have to construct something.” And I think in that construction they’re very similar, because you’re trying to land a trick — and we all go through our little fuckin’ My War segments all the time — and you have to try that shit a million times. You have to be persistent. That’s something skating taught me: if it doesn’t work, keep on trying, and you might get it.
In terms of making songs, I’ll be like, this drum sound doesn’t work, but how can I make it work? How can I EQ it or do all this crazy shit to make it work? Through that, I’ll be working on the same drum sound for fucking weeks on one song. That may not be such a great thing [laughs]. Maybe I need to let go. But I feel like skateboarding is similar in that way. And sometimes it does have cool results when you fuck with a sound until it’s unrecognizable, and you come up with something new. Now it’s a whole different thing.
A slappy at another important spot in the VP universe.
I wonder if that’s also like rub bricking a curb or Bondo-ing a crack or something.
”I’m trying to do my thing on this spot but I have to fix it first. I’m trying to rap on this beat but I have to fix it first.”
Yeah, that makes sense. Or even, “I have to put different trucks on for this shit, or maybe my board is too small. Maybe if I get the conical wheels I’ll lock in better [laughs].” That whole little thought process.
How would you compare the skate scene and the rap scene in New York?
I’m way more familiar with the skate scene. What’s the rap scene in New York? It’s hard to pinpoint because there are so many different people, there are so many different cliques and groups and even genres. You can say there’s the drill rap thing going on, but then there’s also Navy Blue and Medhane and MIKE and all those dudes, which is a whole different wave. It’s more like a general music scene.
People will put on showcase shows and there are 50 people on the fuckin’ bill, a bunch of people trying to make it. People take advantage of how many artists are trying to be out and try to present some sort of opportunity to put yourself out there. Those can be scenes in themselves — like, oh, we’re a bunch of artists that perform at these weird showcase shows and are super into networking and treating music like a business. I don’t know. The music scene here is weird.
In skating, there are some similarities: there are definitely some people who come here to try to make it or be cool, social climb and shit. But I feel like [the scenes] differ, mostly. I haven’t thought about this question before, but maybe this is like rap’s LA. Like, LA is the place where skateboarding started and is still the place where the “best” skaters are, and New York is maybe like that with rap. This is where rap started and there’s so much rap happening here, there are so many people doing rap, it’s hard to even quantify it.
I wonder if another difference between the skate scene and music scene in New York is that, since there are skate spots that everyone goes to, you’re more likely to see people in person and have a sense of who everyone is, whereas rap might be a more individual thing where people are making music on their own and you’re less likely to see the same people around.
Yeah, that’s a great point. When I see rap scenes in places like Baltimore or even smaller places, it seems more like you see people. And especially now with covid, shows are happening less, but there are shows happening. [In New York,] I don’t feel like there’s much of a scene where you go to the rap show and see this guy and this person and we all know each other. Or where you might see a famous person — it’s really not like that at all.
But you can go to Borough Hall and Carl Aikens might be there just skating, or you go to Blue Park and Leo Baker will be ripping. You’ll see these heavy hitters skating with the regular skaters. But hip-hop… especially with famous rappers, famous rappers live in New Jersey [laughs], it’s very different. Skating is way more physical. Rap is just on the internet.
I also wanted to talk a little about your podcast. Was Skating is Hard a product of the lockdown period?
Definitely, yeah. Especially because I started recording the podcast in May or June of 2020, and that’s when the uprising spurred by the George Floyd and Breonna Taylor murders started happening. Everyone felt it: we gotta fuckin’ say something, we gotta do something. And I was obviously thinking about racism, and how there’s always been shit like that in skateboarding. Things no one has really talked about in depth. I was like, “Yo, I have a lot of time, I’m not working, I have all the equipment to do it and I know how, let me get on the mic and try to talk about those things that I feel boiling inside of me.”
In some of the more recent episodes, you’ve had a lot of #skatetwitter guests, including the ‘Shoe Pant Check’ episode with like ten people. Has doing the pod also been a way to connect with people you know from the internet?
In some ways. It’s definitely opened up meeting more people, and I’ve also gotten to know people more through talking to them on the pod. Like that episode on big skaters, the homie Tim Ward was in there and I’m real cool with him now, I definitely consider him a friend. I haven’t met him in person yet, but now I have a connection in Arizona! It’s opened up my little skate world.
As you point out on the pod, you’re not an industry guy, you don’t have ties to professional skateboarding, you don’t have special access. What’s the value of having an outsider voice in the skate podcast landscape?
Being able to say what you want. Being able to call something out for being wack. That’s really it.
Maybe I’m just looking at podcasts like the Nine Club, and even on The Bunt, they talk shit but you can tell that with some guests they don’t do it as much. But you can literally say anything if you’re not part of the industry. There’s something about skateboarding, I don’t know, everyone seems so sensitive. And not on some, everyone’s so PC these days! Not like that. But sensitive like if someone criticizes you, oh, suddenly we don’t like you anymore, suddenly you’re wack, you’re off the team, we don’t skate with those people anymore. It’s so stupid and so childlike. These are a bunch of grown men, you know?
I’m like yo, let me get on the mic and talk a bunch of shit. And not just talk shit but talk real shit. In the first few episodes, I was talking heavily about racism, and literally no one was talking about that shit, at least outside of skate Twitter and SLAP. You wouldn’t see a Nine Club episode where they ask Ricky Oyola why he always says n****r when he gets mad, you know what I mean? And I hope the Nine Club never does an episode like that [laughs], but you never hear those stories. When you’re not connected, you don’t have to worry about your sponsorship or whatever.
I’m definitely going to make more episodes. It’s been a while — people are always hitting me up about the podcast — and I’m definitely focusing on music right now, but more episodes will be coming out some day.
When can we expect the album?
Also some day [laughs]. I’ve been working on some of the same songs for the last two years. I have new songs I just made. I have beats I love where I’m like, how can I rap on this?! So, hopefully it will be done this year, but I don’t want to put any date on it. I’m working on it. That’s all I can say.
Max Harrison-Caldwell is a writer in San Francisco.