- KAS
- 3 hours ago
I’ve been working with Sonny at S5 Studios for over a decade now. What started as a working relationship naturally grew into something deeper—built on mutual respect, consistency, and a shared understanding of the craft. I first connected with him sometime before I released my Always Something EP. I can’t quite remember how we got connected, but from the beginning, the energy was always love—professional, genuine, and easy to build with.
At the time, I was living on Park Avenue in Brooklyn, not far from his studio on Myrtle Ave. That proximity made it easy to stay in motion creatively. I could pull up, get work done, and leave with something meaningful. As we spent more time around each other, the conversations started to go beyond music. Sonny would talk about growing up near Marcy Projects—playing basketball, being outside, and experiencing the culture as it was growing in real time.
Sonny mentioned hearing Reasonable Doubt when it dropped and not fully understanding it because he was too young. I was actually eight years old at the time, and I definitely didn’t know who Jay-Z was either. I became a huge fan later after being introduced to his music through my stepfather, who was not only an artist himself but was also associated with Big Daddy Kane, who played a mentor role for Jay-Z early on.
In a lot of ways, Sonny reminds me of my stepfather. Not in a literal sense, but in how they speak about music and culture. I’ve had separate conversations with both of them at different times, yet their perspectives on the ‘90s always align. There’s a consistency in how they describe that era—what it felt like, what it demanded, and what it produced.
I hate to compare back then to now because sometimes it can come off as being dated or even like you’re hating, depending on how your views are received. But I asked Sonny what it was like for him musically in the ‘90s and what differences he saw in artists. He said the best time in music that he can remember was the ‘90s. He talked about how Brooklyn had so many different styles of rappers—Boot Camp Clik, A Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School, Wu-Tang Clan—and how each played a significant role in developing the genre.
What stood out to me was his point about the different styles that emerged during that time. Artists didn’t want to sound or look like each other—they really pushed originality. Sonny also mentioned that New York City was in a much grittier place back then, and consumers had to actually search for the artists they liked. It wasn’t as easy as it is now with everything being available at the push of a button. That also reminded me of when I bought Reasonable Doubt from a mom-and-pop shop in Park Slope when I was in high school, years after its release.
As the decade came to a close, the culture experienced a major shift. The loss of The Notorious B.I.G. was deeply felt, especially with the release of Life After Death. Around the same time, DMX emerged with a raw, emotionally charged style that introduced a new energy into hip-hop. In Sonny’s view, that period—marked by both loss and transition—played a significant role in reshaping the sound and direction of the genre.
Something else Sonny brought up was how it’s hard to really say if it’s easier now to “get on” or get signed. But one thing he was clear on is that consistency is everything. As simple as that sounds, life gets in the way—of writing, creating, and just showing up. Not just for yourself, but for the people who are already tapped in with you.
That’s something I’ve struggled with too. Just being consistent, staying present. Sometimes I let life pressure pull me away from creating, and then when I’m ready to step back into being an artist, it feels like I’m starting from square one all over again.
I also liked his point about artists working from home. Building in your own space matters, but so does showing up to a real studio. That’s where you connect the dots—with producers, with other artists—and where a certain level of professionalism comes into play that, honestly, a lot of artists are missing right now.
There’s a balance to it. Creating only at home has its pros and cons, just like relying only on the studio does—especially if you haven’t fully found your voice yet. At the end of the day though, it all circles back to the same thing: consistency and dedication are what really move everything forward.
for people like us.
