Interview: GDP Hits New Jersey Heights With Realistic Expectations

Stuck in the frustratingly expensive sub-urban wasteland of northern Jersey, lanky white rapper, GDP (a.k.a. Matt Miller), doles out rambunctious lyrical whimsy and turbidly wrangled metaphors on his retaliatory sophomore breakout, Realistic Expectations. A self-motivated Essex County native, GDP spits dope rhymes loaded with vindictive righteousness, brashly unabashed challenges, snotty bad boy agitation, weed-sponsored pro-pot adages, and obtuse black comedy.

Affiliated with flourishing local hip-hop crew, DivisionEast, GDP’s best friend’s brother’s skateboard shop putting out indie records, doing shows, and selling clothes, the independent-minded Rutgers alumnus ain’t afraid to tell it like it is. At one point, he attacks the same outdated institutional education program he got a degree from with the candid “graduated college/ didn’t learn a fucking thing.”

But GDP’s got a firmer grip on relating contemporary social concerns than any half-wit schoolyard bully posing as a bad-ass tongue-twisting Rap scallion. He levels fake-ass East Coast rappers on the retaliatory “Location,” then goes hog-wild on the grimly satirical dick-swallowing pussy-pounding groupie putdown, “She Said.” If West Orange is truly America’s armpit breeding avant-garde kids looking to start some shit, then GDP’s undoubtedly its self-proclaimed Renaissance Man and forerunning delegate.

GDP’s giving directions to an older gentleman on Bloomfield Avenue in Montclair before getting in my van and heading towards beat-making producer friend Pistol Pete’s West Orange studio hangout, where we’ll shoot—and smoke—the shit. On the way down, he’ll share tales of awesome underage experiences attending local Jersey rap-rock shows as a curious kid. For instance, he met good friend, Pistol Pete, who ran a regional punk label at age 17, when he was only 10, developing a musical relationship over time.

“He put out a compilation featuring Blank 77 and Big Wig and it made a big impact when I was growing up,” GDP says as we roast some afternoon herb. “We’re a generation apart, but I started going to punk shows since fifth grade. Years later, I’m making hip-hop records with C-Minus, who did my debut, Involvement.”

Early influences for GDP were seminal D.C. punks Fugazi and Minor Threat, as well as old school hip-hop heads KRS-One and Slick Rick. Deceased underground New York rapper, Big L (Lamont Coleman), also had a profound impact.

“The first time I heard Big L, that was a serious life-changing moment,” he insists, adding, “(Black Sheep’s) Non-Fiction got me in a trance floating, going, ‘How the fuck did someone make this music?’ I like rock and roll bands. I remember the first time I listened to Converge’s Jane Doe. I was floored. It was a real listening experience.”

Will a DJ accompany you on the upcoming tour?

The DJ situation on tour is always different. I wing it. I usually have DJ Prime (not to be confused with KTU DJ), but he’s not available. I’ll do an iPod setup for the California trip. But when I support RZA in Australia, I’ll have AOI.

Where does your aggressiveness come from—a tough childhood? There’s lots of dark humor railing against societal wrongs, phony assholes, and general mayhem.

Since I was young, I had a way about me where I read deeply into things. As soon as something comes to mind, my head starts spinning. I can’t even control it. But I can channel it in different ways. Some aspects make me feel upset and that inspires me forward. The whole punk movement, especially the Casualties in their early years, the Bad Brains, and, I may sound like a dork, but I really appreciate Morrissey’s really dark, negative pop. I feel me and my friends at DivisionEast are doing hip-hop and taking it either to new heights or new lows with clever cynicism. That’s why so many hipsters and punks liked the Smiths. It was grimy, witty, and meaningful.

I also enjoy the offbeat, obtuse, and obscure samples you procure.

Chopping samples has become a science whereas you take a sound and make it impossible to resemble its original setting. If I ever tried to write a manuscript to my lyrics, there’d be a million subtle reflections going back to punk. If you’re making music in this day and age and punk isn’t an influence you’re a fucking tool because you’re missing out on something that still has some genuineness left. People never develop a social attitude if they don’t listen to punk.

I don’t have a production budget for my LP. People complement my beats, but just about everybody I know personally is making my beats. I don’t shop around or go to meetings or search MySpace for beats. If the beat’s cool enough, you don’t have to do much as you could see by listening to the radio. You just gotta be you.

Most good hip-hop has dramatic tension. You’ve accomplished that.

KRS-One, Boogie Down Productions; shit like that was hard. People claim to be in the underground, but I think my music is accessible to more people if they had the chance to hear the songs. I don’t want to appeal only to a small audience. My intention isn’t to be famous or on everyone’s lips. It’s more like slapping people in the face and going, ‘Hey motherfucker, guess what? Maybe everything you think isn’t what you think it is. Maybe I’m a negative person. So be it.’ On my last album, I outlined my past. This album brings you up to speed and ahead of shit.

Your most accessible tune, ‘Orange Water,’ deviously utilizes a jazzy cornet-dabbed De La Soul-like beat to underscore its hazily perilous conviction. It’s a wily changeup, isn’t it?

That’s not exactly the type of beat I’m drawn towards. It’s from some old chick soul singer doing a hometown tribute. Where I’m from is a pretty significant place for many reasons. I put a quick message on Facebook for anyone who wanted to be in the video to come to the park down the street where I grew up smoking weed.

‘Gonzo Journalist’ references Hunter S. Thompson’s adventurously personalized literary technique, referencing LSD and weed along the way. How’d that come about?

I feel the style of ‘Gonzo Journalist’ I’ve taken influence from talking about myself in not quite third person but some disconnected mannerism. Also, it’s a drug reference song. I’m on LSD doing an interview using cocaine to sober up and talk coherently. In a nutshell, ‘Gonzo’ mocks interviewers asking me stock questions. I wanted to write a song that saves their breath if they wanted to ask generic questions.

‘Children Posing’ ends Realistic Expectations with a surprisingly obvious sample looped from Henry Mancini’s melancholic enchantment, ‘Charade.’ Why rely on an old ‘50s chestnut to close the LP?

That’s me and DJ Prime, a heavy blunt smoker, hanging out and playing a bunch of beats. The way he flipped it, it was cool. I plugged in his computer to my ProTools and recorded it live without him knowing. The next day, I wrote to it. It was an introspective look into what me and my peers were doing.

On your debut, Involvement, therapeutic retaliation, ‘Location,’ mocks fake-ass East Coast rap. That’s a typical contemporary complaint you take to heart.

I wrote that before I was really traveling hard. I got fed up playing to a bunch of rappers who were like, ‘What are you here for?’ Amongst rap circles, the better you are, the less people want to hear from you. They get intimidated. Producers, record label folk, fellow MCs. People talk about hip-hop like it’s a sleeping dragon. Get over yourself. Do something for your community and make an impact. Hip-hop’s not dead. It’s alive and you’re living it.

What may inspire future musical adventures?

I need to keep myself interested by entertaining. I may not be doing well financially, but realistically I plan on pushing myself. This is my obsession and lifeblood. I’m not trying to advance myself in some world standing. I just wanna get my message out there. I’m not even sure why. But I do have something to say. Some MCs worry at shows that no one’s listening. Fuck that! I’m glad I get to do this. It’s something I feel I need to do so if anyone cares, that’s a bonus. I’ll keep rearranging my life to make aggressive music. In my heart of hearts, that’s what’s cool to me.