Ryan Brooks
Imbued with seven years of New York City’s music scene, the former funk band keyboardist is moving away to retrace a glimmer of his sonic thumbprint as an independent artist.
It’s only been one year since the drop of Ryan’s first EP, Boop Boop, a reminiscent platter of instrumentals inspired by the percussive grooves of late 90s hip-hop and R&B. And already, the Baltimore-bred musician—known mononymously behind his music as Brooks—has concocted four more beat tapes since. The tools of an aspiring producer is evident across his musical timeline, each EP experimenting with glittery soundscapes and wacky textures that were introduced from the tracks before.
I reach Ryan via Zoom in his Bed-Stuy apartment. Pieces of hand-drawn artwork are pinned here and there, much alike the visuals paired with his songs. When I ask about the bubblegum-pink bookshelf behind him, he laughs and says, “A lot of this actually isn’t even ours.” He explains that a pre-furnished home makes it easier to pack, given that he's moving away from New York before the end of the month. It was a decision made more clear since his recovery from COVID earlier in the spring.
Between his final weekends in the city, Ryan reflects on his growth from funk band member to independent artist, the sonic evolution of his beat tapes, and his newly released audiovisual project for his latest EP, Garden.
You’ve recently started doodling animations for your new songs, and by the time this interview is published, you’ll have released an exclusive project for your EP, Garden. What can you tell me about it?
With Garden, I just wanted to have visual content with all the music I’m putting out. For a while, my girlfriend Haejin who’s an illustrator and watercolorist made the art for projects I’ve released in the past. One day, she was like, “Ryan, you should do your own art. I could show you how to animate.” She has this little lightbox, and it’s really simple: you draw on a piece of paper, trace each frame—each one a little different—scan them all in, and color it all in Photoshop. It seemed easy enough, and I just got really into it.
So I’m releasing an animation for each beat. This track that I have coming out at the end of September is called “Crimson,” and it’s the culmination of all the animations I’ve made in Garden. Each track is continuous, so you’ll get to see the whole thing in its entirety.
Most of your music is made from the comfort of your apartment, but you’re no stranger to performing in front of a live crowd. Tell me about your earlier days being in a funk band, and how you think it’s shaped your music today.
The live band experience educated me on how I play my instruments. It’s shaped the feeling I’m going for. I started with guitar, and in the band, I was playing the keys in my right hand and a synth bass in my left hand. Playing in a band really informs you on how to make music to cater to a live audience. There’s just a different kind of energy versus—at least in my experience—recording music. It’s the reactions you get with people, especially when they’re dancing. My goal recording music on my own is just to recreate some of that feeling, and pay homage and respect to a lot of the musicians who influenced me coming out of the funk atmosphere.
Who were some of those musicians?
In the band and growing up, musicians like Prince were a huge influence, and D’Angelo. I think they both were artists that represented a lot of their influences in a new way for their eras. They set the bar for our band, and obviously we would never be them, but it informed where we were trying to go.
You’d started in Baltimore. Why move to New York City? For the music?
Yeah, we moved in 2013 and tried to do our thing here. But Baltimore has a lot of pockets of music, and I think looking back we just weren’t aware of those other pockets at the time. Like, we totally could’ve gotten into those scenes.
But New York City is like a beacon. It’s hard not to look at.
Exactly. It’s hard not to think that you need to be in New York City in order to “make it” or feel legitimate, or that it’s only going to happen here. But now, with the internet, your music can be anywhere.
“It’s hard not to think that you need to be in New York City in order to ‘make it’ or feel legitimate, or that it’s only going to happen here. But now, with the internet, your music can be anywhere.”
After being in a band and getting accustomed to the mindset of collaborative creativity, how did you decide to focus on making your own music as an independent artist?
I think a lot of it was just a personal break, you know? We had lived together for quite a while. Not only playing in a band but intimately sharing your life as a group can be really demanding, and deciding to carve out my space in life allowed me to create my own sound. It was having my own space. The band was like my family, an artistic partnership. It was a hard decision, but it was necessary for me to steer my own ship.
Steering your own ship takes a lot of creative responsibility, especially when starting from scratch. What was your first step?
The first step was probably realizing I’ve only ever worked with this band, and I need to just put something out. I was always tinkering around with little musical ideas and little demos. I wasn’t going to let perfectionism or doubt keep me from putting music out, so I was like, “Whatever I have is good enough, I just started, I need to get myself out there.” My girlfriend showed me this producer, Illmind, who’s become an Instagram guru in the sense that he’s a successful producer who’s built a platform of advice. He was very much like a mentor for me.
Another thing I started doing is reading a book called The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. It’s basically a twelve-chapter workbook that helps artists who are blocked, and it helps you get in touch with yourself and unlock that creativity that’s inside, which is really in everybody. It’s funny because I would be hesitant to talk about that book with people, and the more I did, the more I found out so many people read it also. It really is a great resource.
While Boop Boop feels influenced by late 90s percussion, there’s an immediate switch from Amphibians onwards where you explore more experimental sounds and textures. Tell me about the creative evolution throughout your beat tapes.
I think with Boop Boop, a lot of those beats are very Missy Elliot, Timbaland, a late 90s kind of groove. A lot of people would quote J Dilla, and he’s a huge influence. For me, I think that record was about doing my thing and taking that sound as far as I can. But as an artist, you try to do a style a couple of different ways, and I followed that chapter to the end. You can only do an idea so many times before you need something different. A palette cleanser.
With Amphibians, I had this idea just to be wacky. I feel like a lot of times I'm not really sure what I'm going for, but a lot of beats end up going in a similar direction. Garden was really the first EP that I put out where I did my take on a lo-fi sound. I know everybody does lo-fi, and it’s oversaturated, but as a producer I feel like it’s good for me to be knowledgeable of what’s going on out there, what people are listening to, and what I can add to that conversation. All the songs on Garden, they all have acoustic guitar, drum kits I hadn't used on anything else before, similar BPM—I really tried to make each song in a similar vein more so than any other project.
As both an artist and someone who wants to work for artists, what’s the ratio in your music between pure self-expression as a musician and service to a particular genre as a producer?
I think I’m at a crossroads. I want to be like my idols, but I just can't mimic them—that's not what they did. I need to create my own path. I feel like you can either try to be so incredibly unique, but I want to be an artist that’s versatile.
Is having a recognizable sound something you want?
When I was younger, that was definitely an ambition. For me, especially because I want to work with other artists, I’m more invested in just making quality music. The Neptunes, they made great songs and had a sonic thumbprint. I remember whenever I heard their songs on the radio, I’d be like, “Oh shit, that's The Neptunes!” I always thought that was such a cool thing to do. That would be a great space to exist in.
Plenty of artists can be recognized by their vocals alone, but as an instrumental artist, having that “unique” quality becomes a challenge. What’s something in all of your songs that creates that Brooks sound?
I guess a lot of the feel I have ownership of starts with the guitar. It’s my first instrument. After playing the keys in the band for so long, I’m coming back to guitar and playing it more than I ever have. I have a lot of fun. With my tracks, I try to do takes all the way through. Not to knock loops or electric programming—because I do that, too—but even if it’s a simple beat for two minutes, there’s a groove you can get playing the whole way. Those little mistakes you make? You kind of want those things in there. I think the more liveness you can have adds a lot to the overall feel of the song.
Do any of your songs stand out to you more than others?
You know, sometimes you make a track, and it feels like you win? It was really “Boop Boop.” I remember it was the first time that I made a track and felt like I hit a new level. Listening back to it now, it’s like, “Oh, this synth is really dry.” But when I made that track, I just felt really good. I thought I captured something I could really stand behind in a way I hadn't before.
“I was always tinkering around with little musical ideas and little demos. I wasn’t going to let perfectionism or doubt keep me from putting music out, so I was like, ‘Whatever I have is good enough, I just started, I need to get myself out there.’”
What does a typical production process for making a track look like?
Most songs start with a chord progression, and I’ll usually find it on guitar. Maybe I’ll make a loop the whole way through to get the feel, maybe put down some drums—a snare at most, just to keep pocket. And then I’ll put down some bass which informs the kick. Lately, in lieu of a “voice” I’ve been playing more lead guitar. The other parts just form themselves. Usually, keys and other things are—if we’re building a cake—not the cherry on top, but the icing.
Being proficient with multiple instruments, we have to talk about gear—guitar, keys, bass. What’s your DAW of choice?
I use Logic. It’s way easier to just plug in and play. My guitar is a Diamond Edition—I bought it in 2006—a 60th Anniversary American Fender Strat. I really came up on the Fender sound. I followed Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Clapton, John Mayer—that whole lineage. My keyboard is a Roland Juno-G, and it's got a lot of basic sounds, but the synth bass on that? Especially when plugged into a bass amp for live shows? That keyboard was my shit because when I played in the band, that was my left hand. It was the only reason I could fill that role because that keyboard sounded so good.
“I’m at this point in my life where I’m going to stop trying to be an artist and just accept that I am an artist.”
Having recovered from COVID yourself in spring, how has the pandemic been for you? As someone who makes music at home, have things been detrimental to your creativity, or have you found yourself cooking up even more ideas by staying indoors?
Having COVID was pretty crazy. I almost went to the emergency room, and my girlfriend became a long-hauler. But I think for both of us, it really accelerated a lot of our life decisions. Especially with quarantine, we moved in together, and it just really helped us prioritize our life.
You know, I’m creating so much more now. I have more time to create. I’m at this point in my life where I’m going to stop trying to be an artist and just accept that I am an artist. My whole life, I’ve been working in restaurants, always working a job, always thinking that I needed to do something to support the pursuit of being an artist, but because of the pandemic it was an opportunity to step back and ask, “What’s my purpose? What am I here to do?” This is the window where I’m just going to take that leap.
After seven years living in Brooklyn, you’ve decided to move back home to Baltimore, then out west. Having been on the music grind for so long in New York City, what’s your mindset like for whatever comes next?
My plan is to be self-sustainable. If I’m going to be an artist, I have to be able to make a living doing it. I think now more than ever is an opportunity where there are so many other producers and musicians—whether it’s selling beats, mixing, teaching—there are so many ways you can monetize your skills. And by leaving my job [in New York], I’ll have more time than ever to put myself 110% towards getting myself off the ground.
I was listening to this TED talk the other night. They were talking about how when you're trying to go up, there's always a force trying to bring you down. But it’s always that first ascent into the air which is the hardest, and you have to run at it with everything you have. By leaving the city, my job, and taking this leap, I really am going to run as hard and as fast as I can to get in the air. That’s my first step—not flying, but at least gliding. And once I’m off the ground, it’s just about where I want to go. So my goal right now is to glide. And if I don’t do it the first time, I’m not going to stop until I do.