BLACK PUMAS

“We go to different places and not everyone speaks English, but when we play [Colors], everyone’s singing every lyric,” singer-songwriter Eric Burton, one-half of Black Pumas, tells me as we sit down to talk. It’s the morning after the American soul-slash-rock and roll band performed at London’s Eventim Apollo to a bustling, sold-out crowd, and we connect over coffee to chat about the origins of his creative partnership with Adrian Quesada, touring, and their second album, Chronicles of a Diamond. “It’s a great reminder of the through-line that is music as a language in and of itself.”

Whether meeting families during his Berlin show or making his way to the upper balcony for an encore, Burton has a way of connecting with his audience and building a community through his music. And with the level of honesty and heart he pours into each track, it is no surprise. “When we reach a certain level of honesty for what we need to communicate to the next person, it’s felt. Anything that comes from your heart is bound to touch someone else’s.” He pauses. “That’s just kind of how I was raised.”

Can you tell me the story of how Black Pumas came to be?
Yeah, what a beautiful story. It’s somewhat of a fantastical story. So we were introduced to each other, Adrian and I, through a mutual producer friend who I met a few months prior at a gig that I was playing. Apparently, he was looking for someone to collaborate with. I was just kind of trying to make things happen for myself in Austin, Texas, which can be a little bit hard. There’s a lot of music and musicians and artists there and it’s a small town compared to Los Angeles, where I’m from. And so, as part of the bustling music community that is there, there’s also that small-town kind of feeling that you get in conversing with the next person for how happy they are to engage, you know, on an artistic kind of level.

How did you find your sound together?
I think it started with Adrian initiating the conversation for a collaboration. I simply observed his style and aesthetic and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the vibe of what he was creating fit very closely to my culture. Black culture in America is very soulful. There’s a lot of hip-hop, jazz, and rock and roll as well. So while I’d never sang on some of the aesthetics that Adrian provided in the very beginning, it was really easy for me to relate to Adrian for how closely the music is connected to my culture. And there was a connectivity between Adrian and I for how visceral and soulful he felt I was portraying my inner dialogue. It was just the most beautiful, perfect sandbox for me to find a bit of evolution for how I present my own music.

With that, when we took to the stage for the first time, that was when the rougher around the edge aspect of what Black Pumas offers started to develop – just due to the urgency that comes with the live performative situation. It’s kind of a fight or flight, a live performance, because here we are, six or seven people up against the rest of the room — or the world, so to speak — and everyone’s kind of reaching for their highest selves. So it was our first show when we realised that we were probably more of a rock band than a soul outfit. And it’s been nice to see how the colours have coagulated.

Did you grow up performing? You have such a presence on stage. Where did that come from?
I was kind of raised to love the theatre. I was raised to love choirs. I sang in the church choir and then I joined a travelling choir — mostly because they said that if we joined, at the end of the year we would go to Kings Island, which is an amusement park in America. So as an 11-year-old, I’m like, ‘Man, I’d rather be playing basketball, rather go skateboarding with my friends in the community, but I’d really love to go to the theme park.’ So I ended up joining the travelling choir, and I was a part of that for maybe six months or so. And the love for music never escaped me.

Also, my uncle was a songwriter, and he had a really strong hand in raising me. So as I entered high school, and, you know, you go through the angsty phase and you’re reaching for coping mechanisms, for me, because of the musically and theatrically inclined family I was raised in, that was information that I had at hand to express myself and to explore myself. My brother bought me a guitar a couple of months before my 18th birthday, and that was something that I utilised as a form of therapy. I was also tired at the time of the radio telling me what was good. So I utilised songwriting and singing as a way of expressing my own individuality.

It was really nice when I finally met Adrian to find someone where the communication or the connection went unspoken. We didn’t really have to have too many meet and greets to get to know each other. He had seen some of my videos. I heard some of his material. And when we got together, it just kind of clicked, you know? We were able to exist individually in the same room, in a way that invited a certain level of enchantment to what the music felt and sounded like.

I loved what you said about the role that songwriting and making music did for you. Have you been able to keep that as you’ve grown as a musician and life has changed a bit for you? Particularly making your second album, Chronicles of a Diamond, were you able to still have that same relationship with music or was there an added pressure that changed things?
There’s definitely pressure all the time. I probably put way more pressure on myself than anyone else could or can. And trusting my own instincts and intuition was the only way that I could lead a collaborative experience in creating the sound and the vibe of this new record.

Being put in a situation where I was implored to provide something that felt fresh, to step up a little bit as far as providing more song ideas for music and coaching some of the musicians in the studio for inflexion and tonality, it was a grand reminder of the level of quality that we all exude as individuals. When we reach a certain level of honesty for what we need to communicate to the next person, it’s felt. Anything that comes from your heart is bound to touch someone else’s. And that’s just kind of how I was raised.

That has been my lighthouse, my flagship, especially in collaborating with others who might be more technically sound in some ways. Experiencing some of the success that Black Pumas has brought to my doorstep, I get to see and meet and converse with those who have been doing it for ages. And it’s always a pleasant surprise to see how my honesty to express is in and of itself complex and intelligible, and that people want to listen. Those who might be more technically sound than I am at producing or playing guitar or any other instrument, they want to hear the way that I communicate. And that’s what I’ve relied on. It’s the only thing that I have, to be honest.

What were some of the themes that you wanted to explore with the project? Is there a central idea that you hope that listeners take away?
I never really set out or plan what the feeling is, you just put yourself in a creative space and you hope that you’re open enough to capture whatever is flowing through you at that moment. I think the themes come from shadow work and revisiting some of the struggles that I’ve had — particularly before Black Pumas, when I was busking and helping out with family — to bring some closure. With a song like “Angel”, which represents a rose growing from the concrete. While everything around you might look bleak, it’s a reminder to know and observe your own beauty in the conversation. And themes of unity and togetherness have always kind of played a part, as well, without my trying for it.

Is there a song that you’re most proud of?
I’m really proud of “Ice Cream”. It’s probably the first song that I produced. Being a part of Black Pumas has put me in a situation where the idea of my instrument has been expanded, so “Ice Cream” was a really cool, next level for me in realising a different level of artistry. And then “Angel”, you know, just for how full circle it’s been to record that again in a way that I feel like was done respectfully or appropriately. When I wrote that song, I couldn’t imagine being able to play it to thousands and thousands of people.

“Colors”, you know, is a really good one. That’s the one that people have really connected with, so it’s been nice to see, my yearning for connectivity being made tangible in the physical performance of the song and people kind of reciprocating their appreciation. We go to different places and not everyone speaks English, but when we play that song, everyone’s singing every lyric. It’s a great reminder of the through-line that is music as a language in and of itself.

What is it like, finding this kind of borderless community through touring? With crowds perhaps, and also with other artists?
It’s been amazing. It’s like being a part of a big family. One big touring, happy, bustling family, you know? It’s always nice to kind of recognise a reflection of self in the next person, the next band. We kind of have the same plight, same struggles, same successes on a level. We all want the same thing. And so it’s always nice to kind of root for your neighbour.

I think when you’re touring you don’t have enough time to experience the actual city, and so the performance is how we get to have a conversation with an entire community on an energetic level. So it’s always really nice. And one of my favourite things to see on tour actually was the families. In Berlin, after the show, I implored within myself to go out into the audience after the show. And I was surprised to see groups of five, seven, six, eight people who are all kind of related. Big families who’ve come out. And there’s something in the wholesomeness in what music creates in different countries, in different people from different walks of life. There’s something familial and there’s something that is reflective of home that is really important for a musician like myself to feel while I’ve been travelling and touring. It’s always a nice reminder that we’re all kind of here together.