Nelson Bandela goes back to the well
The Brooklyn-based artist and producer who has created a world of his own.
“This whole thing is about difficult conversations”
I’ve been trying to write about Nelson Bandela for almost a year. Our first phone call got pushed back when Nelson texted me that he’d lost his sense of taste after a few days of cold symptoms.
On April 21st, 2021 we reconnected and talked for over an hour. Nelson Nance (his given name) is incredibly generous, not only with his time but with his history and his process. The call was supposed to turn into a profile for a music blog I wrote for at the time. Instead, I sat on it for months.
On September 27th, 2021 Nelson released an album entitled God Dad Bod and it blew me away. My immediate love for the project was tinged with a nagging guilt that I had put off the opportunity to write about such a compelling artist while Nelson continued to do what he always does: create.
A few days later on October 1st, spurned by my idea for a music newsletter, I called Nelson again. We spoke for about 20 minutes. He was busy but made time for me. He ordered a slice of pizza during our call.
Now, almost a year after our first conversation, I’m finally writing about Nelson Bandela, who remains one of the most singular and creative people making music.
In his hometown of Dallas, Texas, Nelson Nance started making music under the name Norvis Junior as the 2000s turned 10. The persona was an R&B singer making love songs of the unrequited variety, and Norvis was an act of defiance, as Nelson simultaneously moved out of his parents house. It was “angsty” music as Nelson describes it. The pivotal project of Norvis Junior was 2016’s Pyrrhic Victory. The title describes a triumph that inflicts such a toll on the victor that it equals defeat.
As his angst subsided a bit, he changed course. One day, he was sharing some new music with his wife, the law professor and co-founder of Sustainable Brooklyn Whitney McGuire. Nelson had delved into trap music. Whitney quipped, “oh you’re in the bando now?” From then on, he was Nelson Bandela.
Enter Dad Bod, the work of an artist who is bursting with ideas. The album is a culmination of sorts, showcasing Nelson as producer, vocalist, emcee, impresario. It’s a house party spilling out into multiple rooms, complete with an impressive guest list of collaborators and a winding thread of themes and moods. Nelson plays the host confidently. It’s his house after all and we’re just here for a good time.
One of Nelson’s greatest gifts as an artist is his emotional clarity. He speaks candidly about family life, personal struggles, the hope for things to work out. His candidness is a virtue but it doesn’t stray into righteousness or melodrama. While Dad Bod is a remarkably self-reflective work, it holds levity close to a big heart. Take “Teach The Babies” and how its refrain reveals a difficult dichotomy of fatherhood:
Gotta teach my babies how to fight, so they can make it all through the night.
Gotta teach my babies how to play, so they can make it all through the day.
Or “Issait” which wrestles with depression in the face of state sanctioned violence, personifies the encouragement of loved ones and the salve of meditation, and also features the declaration:
Love, you gotta guard your heart. Green shell mario kart. Rainbow road, fuck these hoes.
Nelson is a self described “super emotional person,” but admitted on our call in October that when God Dad Bod first started to form, he wasn’t sure he was mature enough for some of life’s more difficult conversations. How to talk about money in a productive way. How to talk about sexuality in an open way. How to be open, period.
As the needle drops on God Dad Bod, Nelson speaks the line quoted at the top of this piece. It’s evident, I think, that the album contains years worth of lessons from these difficult conversations. Years of life, of smiles, jokes, babies, apartments, low points, high points, and the determination to keep going.
Before our first call, I had become absorbed in the world of Nelson’s YouTube channel. It’s a grab-bag of vlog-style musings, and deep process-oriented music making. There are a number of “cook-up videos” which document his step-by-step method of beatmaking. When I brought up the channel, Nelson laughed somewhat sheepishly and admitted that he’d always wanted to be a vlogger. We both reminisced on a simpler time in the internet’s history when it was full of people making things and sharing them. Nelson remembers watching Lex Luger and Soulja Boys make beats on YouTube. His education as an artist has been one of watching, learning, and intuiting.
At the end of this first call, nearly 12 months ago, Nelson Nance told me the reason he makes things is to “put back into the well,” to contribute to the collective consciousness. He learned by watching and emulating, and he hopes others will take from what he’s created and roll it into their own creative process. Nelson, in all his artistic outpouring, has not only put back into the well, he hath drunk from it too. His creations all beget the next, informing one another as he continues to define his truth.
This month’s playlist is brought to you by civic flora aka Zay aka Isaiah Wilson aka my great friend and roommate. An editor’s note from Zay:
I had the pleasure of seeing Nelson Bandela’s performance on April 1st at Elsewhere. Bandela laid out his music, thoughts, and emotions in a raw and honest way that performers often never do. This playlist is dedicated to black artists who share their multitudes in public spaces.