Formula Indie Sessions : Interview with Sick Bird

Hot & Hazy is the latest album by alternative artist Sick Bird. Available on all streaming platforms.

What is your earliest memory connected to music?

That’s a good place to start. Man, my earliest memory… it wasn’t a record, it wasn’t a concert. It was the silence between the noise.

I grew up in a busy spot, always sirens, always cars, always voices. But I had this old cassette player. I would listen to it, and for the first time, all that chaos outside, all that static, it just stopped.

It wasn’t about the lyrics or the beat yet, it was the feeling of order. It was someone taking the mess of life and putting it into a perfect, four-minute sequence. It showed me music wasn’t just background sound; it was a filter. It could take the ugly and turn it into something beautiful, something you could nod your head to. That’s when I knew I wanted to be the one holding the filter.

How did your passion for creating music begin?

It was born out of necessity, not a hobby.

I realized early on, the world is always trying to talk at you. Media, school, the block—everyone has a script they want you to read. But I had my own questions, my own perspective on the things I was seeing, the things I was struggling with. I needed a way to process it, to filter all that noise and confusion into something concrete.

Writing it down wasn’t enough; the words just sat there, dead on the page. I needed rhythm. I needed a pocket to put that truth in, so it could bounce, so it could have life and move past the four walls of my room.

The passion came when I realized Hip Hop wasn’t just music, it was the ultimate freedom of press. A cheap mic, a dusty beat, and you could tell your whole story, uncensored. When I recorded that first clean 16-bar verse and played it back, and it hit exactly how I felt inside? That’s when I knew this wasn’t just a choice. It was the only way I could truly breathe. It became my armor, and my weapon.

What’s the story behind your current music project?

Hot & Hazy. That title is the whole mood of the last couple of years, man. It’s the feeling of living in a mirage.

You know how when the summer heat is blasting, and you look down a long road, and the road looks wet? It looks like there’s something there, a clear destination, a clear pool of water… but when you get closer, it’s just heat dancing on the asphalt. It’s an illusion.

That’s what this whole project is about. It’s the exploration of the highs and lows of chasing a dream. The “Hot” part is the ambition, the fire, the success, the nights where everything is on ten. It’s the feeling of being on top of the world.

The “Hazy” part, though? That’s the reality check. That’s the confusion, the loneliness, the doubt that creeps in when the lights are off. It’s realizing that the success you chased might have been a mirage, or that it came with a price you weren’t expecting.

Tracks like “My Position” and “MVP” are the Hot—they’re straight confidence, staking my claim. But then you get to “So Far” and “Let Go,” and that’s the Hazy. That’s the introspective moment where I’m asking: “Is this the water, or is this just the heat?”

The whole album is a journey through that contradiction. It sounds like summer, but the lyrics are telling you to watch your back.

How would you describe your sound to someone who has never heard your music before?

I describe the sound like this: it’s Future Nostalgia.

You hear the boom-bap drums, the sampling sensibility, the soul of the golden era of Hip Hop—that’s the Nostalgia. I pay respect to the foundation. I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel, I’m just giving it a sharper spoke.

But then you get the Future side. We’re using synths that cut like glass, basslines that sit low enough to shake your soul, and the delivery is always crisp, always evolving. It’s dark, it’s melodic, and it’s layered. It’s got that West Coast bounce mixed with that East Coast grit, and an underground edge that keeps it hungry.

If you put it in a box? It’s Hip Hop that makes you think, but forces you to move. It’s that late-night drive music where the beat hits hard, but the message hits harder. It’s for the head-nodders who are also paying attention to the poetry.

Don’t call it ‘conscious rap’ because I talk about the street too. Don’t call it ‘trap’ because I use real instruments. Just call it Sick Bird music. You’ll feel the rhythm, and you’ll catch the perspective.

What is one thing you’ve learned that completely changed the way you make music?

Oh, that’s easy. It’s the most powerful lesson, and it completely changed my studio ethic.

I used to be obsessed with perfection. I’d punch in, punch out, spend six hours on one line, trying to get the delivery exactly right, the inflection precisely in the pocket. I wanted the take to sound perfect, robotic, flawless.

Then a mentor told me something simple: “The mic doesn’t just catch the sound, it catches the spirit.”

That hit me. I realized that my most potent tracks weren’t the ones I spent days polishing. They were the ones I laid down when the feeling was raw—when I walked into the booth angry, or exhausted, or hyped up. That little crack in the voice, that breath you hear, that unexpected rhythm change—that’s the authenticity the listener connects with.

So now, I prioritize emotion over execution. I try to capture the feeling of the moment, the raw energy, even if the take is technically ‘flawed.’ Because those flaws? They’re the signature. They’re the truth. Once I learned to trust the feeling and stop chasing some sterile, perfect sound, the music started leaping out of the speakers. That’s the difference between a good track and a soul track.

What tools, instruments, or software are essential in your creative process?

Man, the tools are just an extension of the mind, right? You gotta know your weapons.

My process starts analog and ends digital.

I use a variety of equipment and software to keep the music sounding fresh. Lately I’ve been on BandLab with a home microphone and studio.

Which indie artist or song are you loving right now?

Man, I stay tapped into the underground. Gotta know what the young birds are building, and gotta respect the vets still flying high.

Right now? I keep up with artists like Run the Jewels and Kendrick Lamar. Also, on the alternative side I’m digging Tame Impala.

It’s less about a single song and more about the entire movement. That independent spirit—that’s what resonates with the Sick Bird frequency right now.

How have your personal experiences influenced your music and artistic vision?

My personal experiences don’t just influence the music, they are the music. There’s no separation. My life is the soil, and the tracks are what grew out of it.

Think about the title, Hot & Hazy. That’s a direct reference to the contradictions I lived through.

The Grind: Everything I talk about—the hunger, the hustle, that relentless pursuit of something better—that’s rooted in growing up without much. That gives my music the fire and the urgency. When I talk about getting money or staking my claim, it’s not just flexing; it’s a commentary on survival and escaping the box society tried to put me in.

The Reflection: But then there’s the introspection, the “Hazy” side. Dealing with betrayal, seeing people change around you when you start to get successful, questioning your own motives—that’s where the deeper, darker cuts come from. Those experiences forced me to realize that life isn’t black and white. It’s shaded. And if you listen closely to my lyrics, you’ll hear that gray area. I don’t give you easy answers because I didn’t get easy answers.

My artistic vision is simply to be a mirror to that reality. Not just my reality, but the shared experience of feeling trapped, feeling free, and trying to navigate a confusing, dazzling world. I use my rhymes to document the journey, scars and all. If I can’t be honest about what I lived, then the whole message falls flat. I’m just giving you the gospel according to Sick Bird.

What emotions or messages do you hope listeners take from your work?

What I hope people take away isn’t a single feeling; it’s a spark and a connection.

Firstly, I want them to feel validated. When you hear a track on Hot & Hazy, I want you to feel like somebody out there sees the confusion you’re going through, the ambition you’re holding, and the struggle you’re fighting. I want the listener to nod their head and say, “Yeah, he gets it. That’s my life in that verse.” That’s the connection.

Secondly, I want them to feel empowered. Even when I’m talking about the dark side, the struggle, or the contradictions—the ultimate message is that you have the power to navigate that haze. The fire, the “Hot” side, is the fuel. I want my music to give you the confidence to trust your own vision, even when everyone else is trying to blur it.

So, leave with Acknowledgeement of your struggle and Fuel for your hustle. That’s the mission statement of the album: See the confusion, but keep moving.

What’s the most important lesson music has taught you so far?

The most important lesson? Patience is a weapon.

When I started, I was frantic. I wanted the hit record, the sold-out show, the instant respect. I wanted to force the pace. Every beat felt urgent, and every rejection felt final. I was focused on the destination—the gold plaque—instead of the journey.

Music taught me that the growth happens in the quiet time. It takes time to find your voice. It takes time for the sound to mature, for the lyrics to get deeper, for the spirit to get tougher. You can’t rush authenticity. If you try to force a hit, it sounds desperate. If you let the process breathe, the truth comes out naturally.

That patience taught me to invest in the craft, not the clout. It taught me to trust the long game. The hustle is still fast, but the artistry requires you to sit still, listen, and let the song tell you what it needs.

So yeah, Patience. It’s the engine of longevity and the true secret to making timeless art.

What is a dream venue or festival you would love to perform at?

Man, there are a lot of legendary stages, but if I had to pick one right now that perfectly fits the Hot & Hazy vibe and the scale of the vision… it would have to be Glastonbury.

Not just any stage there, but the Pyramid Stage on a Saturday night.

Why Glastonbury? Because it’s not just a festival; it’s a moment. It’s that massive, intergenerational crowd that spans genres and truly respects the craft. You’ve got the historical weight, you’ve got the energy, and you’ve got that huge visual backdrop.

To take that raw, intimate, truth-telling Hip Hop I make—the kind that sounds like late-night thoughts—and blast it out to that many people in that legendary field? To share that authentic energy on a stage where legends have defined eras? That’s the ultimate validation. It proves the music is bigger than just the scene; it proves it’s universal.

That’s the dream: Pyramid Stage, Glastonbury. Hot and Hazy in the UK.

If you could collaborate with any artist, past or present, who would it be and why?

If I could sit down with anyone, past or present, and build a track from the ground up, it would be J Dilla. No question.

Why Dilla? Because he understood the feel better than almost anyone. He was a master of the imperfect pocket. We talked earlier about how I learned to value emotion over technical perfection—Dilla built an entire legacy on that principle. His drums were slightly off-kilter, his samples were beautifully chopped, and his beats sounded like they were always melting, always pulling you in.

I think my lyrical style—raw, rhythmic, focusing on that “Hazy” introspection—would sit perfectly on one of his dusty, soulful loops. He could provide that warm, nostalgic foundation, and I could bring the future-focused lyrical fire.

It wouldn’t just be a collaboration; it would be a masterclass in rhythm and soul. Imagine the sound of Hot & Hazy truth delivered over a beat that breathes and swings with Dilla’s undeniable ghost-note magic. That track would be timeless.

Where can our listeners follow and support your music?(Website,Spotify, IG, links)

I appreciate that question. In this game, the direct connection is everything.

Since I operate with that strong independent spirit, I focus on the platforms that allow me to speak straight to the listeners. The music lives everywhere you stream it—Spotify, Apple Music, Tidal, YouTube Music, and all the rest. Every stream supports the movement and helps spread the word.

Looking toward the future, what’s your dream for the next chapter of your musical journey?

The dream for the next chapter isn’t about chasing higher numbers or bigger stages—we’ve established the hunger for Glastonbury, that’s the apex. The next chapter is about building the ecosystem.

The next chapter is about providing the resources—the production, the distribution, the mentorship—that I had to fight tooth and nail to secure. I want to use my platform and my independent success to lift others.

It’s about ensuring that the Hot & Hazy truth, that authentic, unfiltered sound, doesn’t die out. It’s about securing the legacy, not just for Sick Bird, but for the next generation of storytellers. The dream is to be the infrastructure for the new independent wave.

What do you hope listeners will discover about you along the way?

I hope listeners discover that I am not just a musician, I am a student of the human condition.

You’re going to hear the swagger, the confidence, the sharp rhymes—that’s the performance. But beneath the surface, I want people to discover that I am genuinely searching right alongside them. I am not standing on a soapbox preaching; I’m walking through the fog of life and just reporting what I see.

I hope they discover the vulnerability that fuels the fire. That the reason the music hits so hard is because it comes from a place of deep fear, deep hope, and deep questioning. I’m not afraid to put my contradictions on the track.

Ultimately, I hope listeners discover that Sick Bird is authentic in every sense of the word. That when I say I’m independent, it means I’m accountable only to the art and to the people who support it. They’ll discover that the artist is exactly who the music says he is: complex, striving, and focused on delivering nothing but the unvarnished truth.