24 May 23 - 29, 2024 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents The People’s Producer Dallas producer Youngin works as a strategic adviser for musicians, and says producers often get the short end of the stick in the music industry. BY ALEX GONZALEZ F or years, Dallas has served as an excellent be- hind-the-scenes music city. While the city has birthed legendary musicians from Erykah Badu to Big Tuck, much of the catalog comes by way of the hardworking producers, songwriters and en- gineers. After graduating from Allen High School in 2004, industry professional Keith “Youngin” George II began to carve a path in the music industry. One of his earliest breakthroughs came in 2007, after pro- ducing a hip-hop compilation mixtape featuring a burgeon- ing Hitmaka (who was then rapping under the name Yung Berg). Over nearly two decades, Youngin has collaborated with the likes of Maino, T-Pain, Nas and Soulja Boy — with whom he launched a web platform called Kandiid in 2021. These days, Youngin works as a strategic advisor for mu- sicians and as an executive business and marketing consul- tant. He’s also a member of the Recording Academy Class, with a mission to help garner representation for artists and help them get their flowers. Youngin has seen the musical landscape go through many changes. He notes a lack of artist development in the stream- ing and content era. “We see TikTok and the fame that people are getting from that, and labels would rather go to somebody who has the fan base, and sign those guys,” Youngin says. “They don’t want to spend the time developing. They’re seeing how things are over on YouTube and TikTok and it’s like, ‘Oh, you know what, these guys have millions of followers, we don’t have to put money into them, we can just sign them to a basic deal. They already have the fan base.’ So, you know, I think those things are what kills it.” Additionally, with the saturation of digital streaming plat- forms, Youngin says the overflow of content allows for very few records to make a cultural impact in the way they used to. Back in the day, Jay-Z and Nas would have radio and the streets heated for weeks, and their albums would age well, prompt thoughtful discourse and inform the production value of those who came after them. Albums like Kendrick Lamar’s 2015 album To Pimp A Butterfly have had a similar impact in recent times, but among the flooded streaming libraries, those albums have become more of a novelty than a frequent occurrence. Youn- gin believes this is largely in part due to a dwindling number of A&R people behind the scenes. “I think there’s a lack of guidance,” Youngin says. “No one is stepping in to help. I think people see things on social me- dia and are like, ‘Oh, man, that’s what I want to be.’ But they don’t look at the behind-the-scenes work, and what it takes to do all that. Everybody wants to jump in and go to a studio, record a song and think it’s gonna do something, and that’s not how it works. That way of thinking is getting worse be- cause we’re getting so far away from actually taking the time to develop. There’s just no guidance anymore, there’s no di- rection, there’s no time put in and it’s not the same.” A year past the 2023 writers’ strike, during which film and television writers halted work and production on their projects to protest low wages and residuals, similar issues plague the music industry. In February, four producers who contributed to Houston rapper Travis Scott’s Utopia reported that they hadn’t gotten paid for their work. Muni Long, who has written for the likes of Ariana Grande, Rihanna and Nick Jonas, also noted that sometimes, she wouldn’t receive payment for her song- writing work for years. Youngin recalls a time when he was working with an engi- neer who had not received payment from a big-name producer. “He had to call us to borrow money just to pay his bills,” Youngin says. “And people outside of the music industry don’t see that. They see the facade of everything, but they don’t see what the artists and producers behind the scenes are going through. And it’s sad, but this is nothing new to us.” One of the key components of Youngin’s mission as an au- tonomous music/business liaison, music manager and A&R professional is longevity. He is still receiving RIAA gold and platinum plaques for songs he produced over a decade ago. Youngin’s current roster includes composer and instru- mentalist Sam Jacobs, one of the godfathers of hip-hop; pro- ducer De-Capo; and Grammy Award-winning singer Joey Beanz of Rude Boys. He currently oversees two different music projects that will arrive later this year. In tandem, he is also working the Recording Academy to help diversify the world of the Grammys. “It’s always good to experiment with different genres and work with different people, and this is what 2024 is looking like for me,” says Youngin. “Taking my skill and doing what I can with anyone. My biggest thing is facilitating connections for people, and I’m glad to be a part of this.” ▼ REVIEW BEDAZZLED IN THEIR FIRST DALLAS APPEARANCE IN ALMOST SIX YEARS, THE DECEMBERISTS FUSED WHIMSY, FOLK-ROCK AND WRY ASIDES TO CREATE A MEMORABLE EVENING. BY PRESTON JONES T o take in The Decemberists is to behold one of the more dazzling magic tricks in the music business. Somehow, for nearly a quarter-century, this baroque folk-rock band from Portland has built a career upon over- stuffed, esoteric whimsy, which nevertheless feels as light as air and as urgent as lightning as it unfolds in front of you. You wouldn’t anticipate an acidic, rollicking satire of the military-industrial complex — “16 Military Wives” — to be such boisterous fun and a high point of audience participa- tion, but The Decemberists thrive on confounding expecta- tions. On paper, it screams trainwreck: accordion colliding with saxophone and trumpet, piled atop drums, cowbell, acoustic and electric guitar — oh, and occasionally stand-up bass. To say nothing of the intensely literate, allusive and evocative lyrics: “I fell on the playing field/The work of an errant heel/The din of the crowd and the loud commotion,” goes a line from 2005’s “The Sporting Life.” Yet, against all odds — and the often dull, timid tastes of the mainstream — what singer-songwriter Colin Meloy and his collaborators have wrought does work, and it delivers the ec- static thrill of reveling in the unifying sensation of particular peculiarity. We’re all in here, and we’re all just being weird to- gether. Such was the mood Tuesday night as The Decem- berists returned to North Texas and the Majestic Theatre, for the band’s first appearance here in nearly six years. That gap is due to the quintet’s hiatus, which ended with news of a new record (the too perfectly titled As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again), due out in June. (The forthcoming al- bum’s sprawling 20-minute single, “Joan in the Garden,” served as the night’s lone encore.) “The Peaceable Kingdom” tour allowed for a reintroduction and embrace of Meloy, Chris Funk, Jenny Conlee, Nate Query and John Moen’s ex- quisite interplay. The band is further filled out by vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Lizzy Ellison and multi-instru- mentalist Victor Nash. The comfortably full room greeted their arrival on stage with a deafening roar. The show began in disarming fashion, as Meloy, joined by Ellison and Nash, stood center stage, ringed only by eight light bulbs affixed to poles wrapped in some sort of fanciful greenery. Opening with “All I Want Is You,” the decidedly lo-fi, acoustic opening suggested a feint of sorts, paring back the busyness to focus intensely on the melodies and words. The remaining band members filtered out for “Shankill Butch- ers” and “The Bachelor and the Bride,” but the effect was unchanged — dimly lit haze, and even just a few rows back, squinting to see the musicians, lingering in darkness. Then, with the opening notes of “The Infanta,” the full stage burst to life, a backdrop like something from a lost chil- dren’s book unfurled across its length, with riotous lights punctuating the 110-minute performance, as it built and built and built. Meloy held back from engaging the audience until the fu- nereal atmosphere of the opening trio of songs dissipated, but once he did, he proved a quick-witted host, reveling in the grimness of new material such as “Burial Ground” — “You’re here to forget the reality of your mortality,” he intoned, “but I’m here to remind you!” — and inviting audience members farther back to find their way to empty seats down front. He’s also an endearingly awkward rock star, galumphing around the stage as his bandmates make a glorious racket behind him — “Make You Better” was a dazzling highlight, as was “The Wanting Comes in Waves,” which featured a jaw-slackening vocal turn from Ellison, and “The Sporting Life,” during which Meloy urged the crowd up out of its seats, and dared them to remain so for the duration: “See if you keep standing,” he cracked. “Those seats look awfully comfortable.” And it was that sense of intimacy between band and per- former that gave the entire evening a distinct charge. By drawing everyone close in the beginning and working to- ward a gleeful, explosive release, The Decemberists deftly engaged the audience, taking them on a ride as precious and faintly pretentious as it was kinetic and bloody — in Meloy’s case, literally. (“I tried to throw a pick and hit it against my acoustic guitar — I drew blood,” Meloy said after the riotous climax of “16 Military Wives.” “Hazards of the trade!”) Ending the main set, appropriately, with “I Was Meant for the Stage,” Meloy sang, ironically, of a life intended for the glare of the spotlight: “I was meant for the crowd/I was meant for the shouting,” he crooned, his deceptively muscu- lar tenor ringing out into the darkness. Wry, sure, but also anchored by a grain of self-awareness. That The Decemberists have found a lasting home within the warmth of that light — whether the literal illumination above the stage or the figurative sensation emanating from those gathered within the venue — defies convention but is no less magical for being so. Marcus Ingram Dallas producer Keith “Youngin” George II | B-SIDES | ▼ Music
