Aviator Chic

Ankur Chaturvedi, childhood friend of Aviator (Neil Anand) and Base Trip Records member, caught up with his buddy for a little Q&A about new material, opening for KiD CuDi, and his general life. Enjoy.

1) Going back to the old days of Aviator, how has your music evolved?

It was all about tightening everything up, word economy, and restraint. I’m trying to say more with less, these days.

2) Are any of the old rhymes still in your work? Or did you choose to get rid of them as you grew as a person?

Sometimes I resurrect an old line or too. As a person, I’m not really one to sit back and reflect on old times for too long. I don’t have boxes of memories and trinkets. Just the same, I don’t listen to my older music because I’m always thinking about the next move.

Sometimes a person will throw on and old song of mine and I’ll listen along. Oftentimes, I’m surprised by the gems I find among the utter dross I was recording as a kid.

3) Were you always about the lyrics, like you are now?

Absolutely. I’m a lyricist. That’s my job and it always has been. My job involves certain essential components – lyrics and content, flow, and performance. Everyday I’m working on one or more of these components. The wheels don’t stop. Even if I wanted them to, they wouldn’t give in. I’m afraid it’s going to be fatal.

4) The typical interview question... at the time, did you think you'd try to rap professionally?

Yes. At age 10 I knew. As I get older I delude myself with games and jobs, socialization and intellectual masturbation, but music has always been my love. It’s as Duke Ellington once said, "music is my mistress and she plays second fiddle to no one."

5) Have Chester's beats affected your style? Or would you say it’s the other way around—seeing as how you're the older brother.

Chester, InfinitiRock, is five years younger than me – making him 18 years old now. He has always been a prodigy. By age 10 he had already mastered “beat-making” and was moving into a different echelon. At this point, I really think he’s just doing it to piss everyone off and shake people up. There are lots of subliminal messages and textures in his music.

Even though I’m older, I find myself consistently humbled by the kid and his work. He has so many songs and so many styles. None of these songs are repetitive, either. That being the case, I’ve been trained by his music to do the same thing. In my mind, he’s paving the way and I’m just chasing along. We both play an equal and integral part to the work, but his music has always affected my style.


6) Do you guys sit together and come up with tracks? Does he make a beat, and you rap on top? Or do you write a rap, and he comes up with a beat to match the flow? How would you describe the work sessions?

Sometimes I sit with him in the studio while he makes songs and sometimes I come up with lines in my head, but more often than not, he comes up with a beat (or a batch of them) and sends it to me online. These serve as the catalyst for my lyrics. If I’m feeling a certain way and I know that lines are packing my head, I will actively seek out of one of his instrumentals, one that matches my mood, and begin to write everything out on top. I try not to leave a song unfinished. After 12 years of writing, I’ve developed certain techniques and habits. Though I’m a relatively easy-going and amiable guy, I’m a perfectionist and an asshole in the studio.


7) Was opening for KiD CuDi at the House of Blues your largest performance so far? Did you get to mention "They Ain't Right" to him?

It was absolutely my largest performance to date. It was a sold out show at the one of the foremost venues in the country. When I stepped out on that stage in front of all 3,000 of those kids, I didn’t say one word for about a minute. I just soaked in their energy. It was palpable. It was humbling. It was terrifying. It was incredible.

I didn’t mention the song to him or chose to play it at the show. I recorded a song over the instrumental of his most popular song, so I think I made the right decision by letting him have his moment. I think it would have been in poor taste if I acted otherwise.

8) How did you feel before the performance? During? Afterward? How would you compare it to the smaller venues you've performed at?

Before, I was petrified. I was pacing around my dressing room. I thought I was going to vomit for hours. During, I was petrified. I turned my head off and let myself get into my zone and put on the best show I could, but I was absolutely petrified by all of those people and the bright lights. It was surreal. Afterwards, I was relieved to be over with it all and I was curious to know how it was from the audience’s perspective (the perfectionist thing).

The smaller venues make you feel big. Everybody is packed like sardines into a basement or hole-in-the wall club. People know your words, they’re in your face, and they’re on level ground with you. At the house of blues, it made me feel gigantic to a point of discomfort. Bigger sardine can, more sardines, elevated stage. Very scary, but I never let them see the whites of my eyes.

9) What's next for Aviator? I hear you're finishing up an album. Can you tell us what it's called? How would you compare it to the mix tape?

So much. The album is on its way. It’s called Bigger Than My Matador. The title is a little ambitious-sounding. It’s basically about being the bull and conquering the matador before he conquers you. After dropping such a feel-good mixtape like "Thank You, Come Again," I think the album might surprise people and might even make them feel uncomfortable. It’s very emotional and raw. There are songs about absolute helplessness, trust lost, and reconciling my precarious position as a “conscious” rapper. There are also really accessible songs on there.

I’m just working on keeping it all together, man. I turn 23 this Monday. I have a new job, a beautiful girlfriend that I adore, and a promising career in music. I just want to keep it this way forever.

Thanks, Avi,

Th34nk (Ank)