AroMa is a creative genius. They put everything into their performances, seeing the real human significance of emotional self-expression through music. Inspired by the likes of Nina Simone, Grace Jones, and Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, the Oakland artist is a shapeshifter, capable of producing magnetically charged art free from the usual boundaries of hip hop and psychedelic rock.
Ahead of AroMa’s set this Saturday, May 24th as part of the Total Accord concert series co-hosted by White Crate, we heard from the artist about their early magical experiences with music, the energy that goes into their performances (before, during, after), the amazing local communities they love (including safariiiCAMP and STOP MEN), and more.
What’s your earliest memory of connecting with music?
Well, from the age of five years old I became an Alicia Keys super fan. I even called the phone number she sings in her song “Secrets” hoping to talk to her. (Obviously she didn’t answer and I was disappointed).
But the first time I remember just fully being blown away by music was when I got my first ever MP3 player from my Bigmama — real old school — it was battery-powered by no more than two AA batteries. When I first got it, I didn’t exactly know how to download new music on it — I was like 8 or so. But it came with like 10 preloaded songs, and I would listen to them on my earbud headphones late at night. I remember periodically taking my headphones out and being so shocked that the experience I was having in my headphones wasn’t happening outside of my ears and mind. It made me realize just how much music is literally like teleportation. I’d sit in silence for a while, then put the headphones back in and feel like I was blasting through a portal into another world.
Funny enough, those few preloaded songs I actually started to really like and get attached to, so for a while I was listening to them like every day. They included a song by The Plumbline called “Bottletops” — very melancholy, singer-songwriter, folksy — and it was very my vibe for the melancholic internal world. Another was “BigCityDreams” by Never Shout Never — it’s simple, pop, and guitar-based. Felt like a corny teen romance drama soundtrack, and I LOVED IT. It was kind of the first time I ever heard music like that, to be honest, and I do think it influenced my music taste.
Does living in the Bay Area influence your music?
Oh, it has influenced my music to be very eclectic. There’s so much unique style, so many different people out here—I don’t see how all that nuance, and the encouragement of originality, couldn’t make its way into my music and my courage to explore sound. Also, the Bay being such a socially minded place, with the legacy of the Black Panthers and other social movements, I was aware of my Blackness early on—what it means to be Black in this country. I had already done a lot of slam poetry about that.
Topics like organizing, naming the oppression of BIPOC communities, and collective liberation started showing up in my lyrics as well, once I began making music—not just in my poems.
It feels like you pour a ton of energy into your live performances. Can you talk to us about what goes into a performance for you – before, during, and after?
Oh man, right before I go on, I kind of get a bit quiet. It’s meditative—like a boxer centering themselves before stepping into the ring. I don’t actually prefer people talking to me right before I perform—but I don’t make a big fuss about it, because I never want to be rude. Having a moment to myself is key.
I get nervous, believe it or not. But nerves are part of the fun. If you didn’t feel a little nervousness before getting on a rollercoaster, the ride wouldn’t be as thrilling. If I didn’t get a little bit nervous before a show, I think it would mean I wasn’t acknowledging how important performing is to me—how necessary it feels, and how sometimes it even feels high-stakes.
Not because of the crowd’s reaction, but because of my reaction to myself. Like—how real can I get with myself? What discovery can I walk away with?
It’s vulnerable to admit when something matters so much to you. That vulnerability brings nerves—but it’s because I care a lot. And again, those nerves actually make it fun. By the time I’m into the set, all of that nervousness fades away, and I realize I’m right where I need to be. A wave of courage comes over me. I imagine myself like a boxer again—strong and fluid at the same time, never taking my eyes off my opponent, which is fear itself.
I’m very hard on myself. After a show, a lot of times, I get disappointed. I think about what I could’ve done better—if I let myself feel the full range of my honesty, if my technique and skill were up to par. I’m trying to be less critical and more joyful, to focus on my gratitude for just being able to perform at all—and that people actually care about my work.
But usually, I’m a little melancholy. I go sit with myself, process those feelings, then look forward to the next opportunity to take that ride all over again—and make it even better than the last.
What do you love about the Bay Area music community?
Oakland—and the Bay—is a small place (especially Oakland). It often feels like we all know each other, but that’s kind of cool, because you really get to see what your peers and community are doing and creating. We pop out to each other’s shows, DJ sets, events, etc. We get to witness each other’s growth up close and in real time—and that’s something special.
Also, the range of styles and genres here is so dope. I’ve never been to a show anywhere else with lineups as diverse as the Bay. I’m talking bands back to back with rappers, with DJs spinning techno in between—all at one show! And folks are into all of it. Like, that’s beautiful.
Is there something missing or anything you’d like to see change?
I mean, just the obvious—resources and opportunity. It’s hard to live out here; it’s super expensive. We don’t have as bustling of an art industry, so it can be hard to figure out how—or if—you can sustainably live off your work. That’s why I really appreciate Total Accord and Tyla. They came up through the Oakland underground music scene and were like, “Here’s some administrative support for your artistry. Here’s how to navigate the business and industry side of being an artist.” And they’re partnering with artists in a non-exploitative, incredibly artist-centered way. So I think even in the formation of this agency, those shifts are already happening.
Are there any artist-centered communities in the Bay that you love?
Oh, so much… like I don’t even know where to begin. The underground renegade scene is absolutely sick and unlike any other. Even people I met in the Berlin club scene were jealous of my stories—how folks will pitch up a sound system in the middle of a redwood forest and host a rave that goes until the morning, absolutely FREE of charge (NOTAFLOF), and accessible to all if you just have the coordinates to get there, lol. No dumb exclusivity stuff like not being able to get into this club or that one. Fuck all of that.
I haven’t actually been to any of the safariiiCAMP shows yet (I know, I’m super late on this), but I’ve been watching what they’ve been up to for a while—how they engage in community, the events they put on, the inclusivity of the space—and it all seems beautiful. I love that it exists, even though I haven’t become a part of the community there yet, but I’ll definitely be showing up to experience their events and gatherings soon.
STOP MEN—I love the STOP MEN space. So queer, so radical, truly living by the ethos of community care and bold, weird, boundary-pushing artistic creation. It’s run by my good friend Xara, who’s long been like a mentor to me and honestly gave me my first ever studio space for free, which is wild. STOP MEN is a clothing shop that gives away a lot of hand-printed pieces for free or on a sliding scale. They’ve hosted art shows, music performances, and the famous STOP MEN dinner pop-ups, where Xara cooks their big pot of stew and people come to listen to music, poets, and local performers. A very special place indeed. Everything Xara and STOP MEN stand for is about unconditional support for the queer community, weirdos, and freaks.
I’ve also been part of creating a studio space myself in downtown Oakland called Dish. That was built with friends—people I consider family. I love the events that have been booked there—also super diverse in music style and intention. I love having a space bands can come rehearse in. We really built it from nothing. All the furniture in there was lugged personally by myself and Ant—talk about a labor of love. But it shows. I think everyone who visits can feel that. It’s like walking into a home and a creative, musical rehearsal space all at the same time. And there are even more plans for how to continue developing it.
Do you have any new releases coming up?
I dooo (hopefully)! I’ve been working on a four-track EP for like two years now (which is far too long), but I definitely plan to drop it this year—hopefully in the next few months, release date TBD. There are also a few fun singles I want to release either before or after that.
I’ve just been sitting on so much music, and it’s about time I start sharing it all! I want to give it to people. The folks who’ve loved and supported me for years—even without receiving any new art—deserve it. And I want to show love by gifting them something back. 🖤
Which artist/show are you most excited to see at Total Accord?
Family Not A Group is ALWAYS a vibe. They seriously warm my heart every time—they’re always so fun to watch.
Casey Cope, Hugo De la Lune, Deon Brown—these are all friends I’ve collaborated or performed with, and I appreciate each of them so much. Casey is such an explosive performer—super personable and funny. I love seeing his sets, and it’s been a minute since I’ve had the chance to!
Do you have any hopes or predictions for the local music scene?
It’s gonna pop. It’s gonna pop. It’s already started. I really feel like we’re in a creative renaissance of sorts. I can’t wait for the rest of the world to see that too.
