I met Daniel (a.k.a. Cybertrash) in Boyle Heights at an industrial warehouse turned DIY artist space that’s home to Make Out Music, the lovely indie company helping discover and showcase up-and-coming artists. I arrived two hours before the concert, his first headliner show in LA, during sound checks. The opening and guest lineup featured a talented crop of rising young artists from across the East Coast: Patrick O’neill, 4cf, Sherif XR, Voda Fuji, and reefuh—who Daniel referred to as “the hardest white boy you’ll ever meet.” Daniel greeted me warmly with a big hug and we sat down at the bus stop to have our conversation while cars roared down East Olympic Boulevard.
EARLY RISING: Where did you grow up and do you think that influenced your sound?
CYBERTRASH: I grew up in North Atlanta. I think it influenced me a lot, maybe not my sound, but definitely my taste and my style. The whole reason I got into music in the first place is because of Yachty. I remember hearing One Night for the first time back in seventh or eighth grade. His music wasn’t the most technically impressive but I loved it. I was like, bro, I could do this too. So in middle school, I started making music and recording in this voice memo app on my phone. All torrented bullshit, you know. But yeah, Yachty’s music inspired me a lot because of how easy it seemed but still how effective it was.
ER: Other than Yachty, who else inspired you when you started making music?
CT: I don’t even know. I mean, I have my favorite artists, but I like them because they’re so different from me. I was a huge Lady Gaga fan; I loved her for how unique she was. I was a huge Kanye fan; I loved him for how fucking different he was and how his sound constantly evolved. Amy Winehouse too, I love her so much. And Joey Bada$$—1999 got me into rapping. I wanted to be just like him. More recently, I’ve been really into Dijon and Mk.gee. And then a lot of Omar Apollo. I swear, Omar is my G.O.A.T. Him being Hispanic is so sick to me. It’s inspiring to see someone like me coming from the middle of nowhere Indiana make it big.
ER: What’s your creative process like?
CT: It’s not really a conscious process when I’m making music. I usually have a sound or a picture in my head that I make music to, trying to make it sound like how I think it looks. I have a general soundscape in my mind that I dip my toes into.
ER: Do you think music will evolve past the need for genre? I feel like a lot of artists nowadays are defying genre norms and mixing very different sounds together, like Jean Dawson or Kenny Mason for example.
CT: Yeah, of course. I think, sonically speaking, the future of music is genreless. It’s going to be hard to pin down exactly what it is. But, I feel like now, more than ever, labels are a huge thing because there’s so much music. You have to find a way to brand it to get people to share it.
ER: I feel like fans can also be really demanding. When artists experiment with their sound and do something different, some fans feel entitled to a certain type of sound. I get frustrated by that mentality, like don’t turn artists into commodities.
CT: Yeah, it’s a weird parasocial thing. They don’t see their favorite artists as real people, it’s really shitty. That’s one thing about me. As much as I love music and am passionate about it, I don’t really care that much about things like that. I take my time with everything, probably too much time. I haven’t released a song in six months. It’s important to me that my discography is where I’m at and who I am right now. You change every day, every week. Whatever I put out, I want it to be the best reflection of who I am.
ER: Who do you feel about being independent versus label support? Have labels been reaching out?
CT: I’ve had labels reach out. It does take a toll on you having people tell you about yourself. When you get offers, it’s their way of telling you how much they think you’re worth, empirically speaking. But in everybody’s head, their music is priceless so it’s difficult. Besides the idea of being signed seeming cool as fuck, but talking to people around here, you realize it’s butt. It’s not as cool as you think it is. Being independent as possible for as long as possible is very important. It’s something a lot of people overlook and take for granted. You’re only independent before you get signed once. After you get signed, unless you’re re-negotiating with the same label, if you get dropped, it’s almost impossible to get picked back up again. Distribution deals are definitely the way to go. That’s what I’m chasing.
ER: How has your life changed since the start of putting songs out?
CT: It’s been crazy. It feels like I exist in multiple worlds. Like out here in LA, people know me. I get to do shows, I’m getting invited to things, people are hitting me up for sessions, all that cool shit. But I leave on the 20th and go back to Jefferson, Georgia. I’m gonna be in my room with all the time in the world because a bitch is unemployed. The character, not that I have a persona, goes away and I’m just a normal ass person. It gives me vertigo.
ER: Have your parents been supportive?
CT: My dad is my #1 fan, always on YouTube watching my stuff because he doesn’t know how Spotify works. My mom doesn’t care for it much, but I know she loves me. I’m her baby boy. She doesn’t really understand it, but she understands the excitement. I think they’re both just happy that I’m staying off the streets. I dropped out of school so they’re glad I haven’t resorted to a complete life of delinquency. It’s probably sick for them that I care about something this much because I’m not a super passionate person. I wasn’t good in school and didn’t really have much ambition. I’m still a little like that, I’ve never really felt like much of an artist. It just happened to be the only thing I’m not bad at.
ER: Yeah, the desire to make something perfect is so overwhelming and exhausting. I think what matters most is enjoying the process.
CT: I’m trying to enjoy the process but it’s hard. I’m trying to repair my relationship with music. There’s a huge difference from when I released “Play Pretend” to now. There’s a lot of pressure to release music. I can’t take a year off. I try not to take where I’m at for granted. Even the most ideal situation will have its problems. Like, I could get signed to a two million dollar deal tomorrow but that’s not going to fix my mental problems when it comes to the creative process. I won’t all of a sudden become inspired and shit out two songs a day and make my label happy. I’m the dude who might make a song a month, maybe.
ER: With that in mind, going forward, what are your goals in the coming months?
CT: I don’t really know. Me and my team don’t really set long-term goals because things can change so quickly. We’re taking it day by day. I’m trying to take better care of myself as a person.”
ER: Yeah, that’s the first and most important thing. You can’t make your art until you actually feel good yourself.
CT: I’m definitely trying. It’s getting better. There was a long time where I wasn’t taking care of myself. That problem was dragging the music down and affecting my creativity. I try to take it a day at a time and not be too hard on myself
ER: What are your ways to destress? How do you calm down?
CT: Waking up in the morning and making eggs, man. One of my favorite things to do.
ER: How do you cook em?
CT: Dude, over easy. I love a fluffy ass yolk, bro. Then I put it on some quinoa and put some hot sauce on it. Eat it, watch some Ozark, and then I’ll go to my computer to try to make music. If nothing is coming out of the noggin, I’ll just talk to my friends online or play games.
ER: How does it feel to have people reach out to you about your music? Does it feel weird to see people deeply connect with it?
CT: Yeah, it’s always an insane feeling. When a song does well, you get numb to a lot of shit. But one thing that never gets old is when people message me. Like “Bro, I’m going through a breakup and my girl won’t talk to me. This song is helping me get through it.” Stuff like that is always cool. I don’t really have intentions with my music, and I don’t think anything I say is profound either. I don’t think I’m that unique, you know. But, it’s so sick to see people get something from it. It’s very reassuring. I think about quitting a lot.
ER: I feel like nights like these must fill you up with so much energy, seeing strangers know all the words to your songs.
CT: Yeah, you see the streaming numbers and it’s cool, but you get numb to it. There’s no way to gauge how many people are really in touch with you. You can’t actually feel it. But on nights like these, seeing people pop out for me and my friends, singing all the words, the best analogy I can come up with for that feeling is—it’s like holding a controller and physically feeling that haptic feedback when it vibrates. You can feel people resonating with your music.
ER: You excited for tonight? It’s such a great lineup.
CT: These are all people I consider my closest friends. I’m a fan of all of them. 4cf, for example, he’s my favorite artist. He inspires me. He doesn’t know how talented he is. And for most of them, it’s their first show so they’re wondering if it’ll be packed. But who gives a fuck how many people come tonight, just the fact that we’re even able to do this together is something to be very grateful for. Shoutout to Sully for putting this all together.
ER: Is there anything else you’d like for the people to know about you?
CT: That I care. I think that’s the most important thing. I really care.
Originally published via Early Rising on June 23, 2023
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