Wednesday, February 3, 2010

An Interview I Did About My Music in 2008


A Sad Clown Who Raps: An Interview with Harlequin
by Lawrence Breavman

This past Saturday I got a chance to sit down with up-and-coming Toronto-rapper/spoken word artist Harlequin. Harlequin, born Tim Comrie has been rapping for eight years. It is not easy to guess that the mild-mannered twenty-five-year-old is an aspiring rapper (he confesses that the usual response to divulgence of this information is "incredulous laughter") but the man is serious about his chosen audio strain and apparently has great plans to fill what he says is a gap between the potency of the music’s aesthetic and the potency of its content.

S: So where does the name Harlequin come from?

H: I thought of it when I was watching Batman: the Animated Series, inspired by the sexiness and neatness of Joker’s sidekick Harley Quinn. Since then I’ve thought of other reasons. I also very much enjoy Picasso’s paintings of harlequins and the feelings of isolation that are conveyed in them. The idea of a sad performer is one I identify with as you have probably guessed from my music.

S: So it has nothing to do with Harlequin Romance novels?

H: I hate to disappoint people but I’m proud to.

S: So you’re a sad performer?

H: I’d say I’m more melancholy than what is typically presented in the mainstream—and more shy. I really identify with Morrissey in interviews when he talks about how hard it was to imagine himself doing rock when everyone he saw doing it was so aggressive and extraverted.

S: So how does a shy, sad, middle-class white kid get into hip hop?

H: It’s hard to say when it started. In terms of just listenership, I was in and out of love with it until halfway through high school when some “heads” I worked with rekindled my interest permanently-as well as a friend, Sean, who’s enthusiasm for the genre was infectious. In terms of beginning to do it myself, that happened when my friend Tom got some functional recording equipment when we were 17. He was showing it to me and my friend Nick when Nick insisted Tom make a beat we could record to. A few beers and an hour later we had recorded 5 o’clock in the Ghetto, a ridiculous song mixing gangster rap clichés with scenes from Akira.

S: So that was it for you?

H: Yes.

S: Is this music available to the public?

H: There’s some funny, creative stuff on there but the sound quality is such that we probably couldn’t sell it with a clear conscience.

S: Did you guys have a name?

H: Yeah. Oakwood Rangers. We all went to Oakwood Collegiate for high school and Oakwood Rangers was the name of a funny movie we made about us as our school’s nonsensically violent, power-hungry security guards.

S: Are your friends still rapping?

H: Tom’s more into production and playing instruments which he is very good at-he had by far the most musical knowledge between the three of us. Nick will only do it in an airtight environment after drinks.

S: Why do you think it was so compelling for you in particular?

H: I love words and I’ve always written-I’ve always wanted to describe what I’m witnessing within and without in any way I could and sometimes words are the best tool.

S: So why not write novels or diary entries-why rap?

H: The short answer is that rapping is fun. I do write prose and straight poetry but I love music and haven’t been good at any instrument I’ve tried.
To strip away all that’s unnecessary from a hip-hop song is a prospect that continues to energize me. There’s your rhythm, the rhythm behind you, and the content you choose to deliver. In fact you could even do away with at least two of those elements and it’s still hip-hop to me.
Lately what motivates me is a lack of honesty in most of what I listen to. Art that I like is uncensored, free expression of what depresses, enlightens, cracks you up, etc. I want to make songs void of any posturing or concern for consequential stigmas and this can get scary. Lately I’m really upset by the homophobia seemingly intrinsic to the genre and I’m attempting to poke fun at it in my songs. But people giving me pounds for rapping might just want to pound my face in if they knew my true feelings about homosexuality-that it’s fine!

S: What do you get out of music? What are your goals?

H: Again, like most artists I notice a lack-a gap I’d like to fill. Certain artists hint at the unexplored areas of the genre and that inspires me to go to those places, aesthetically and lyrically. I think the art form is pretty powerful on its own—Run DMC is enough to move me-strictly by their style and delivery-so why not try to tap into that energy and into Morrissey’s writing sense simultaneously? That’s what I aim for and I know it’s asking a lot of myself but that’s the way I am. I want to rhyme with the dynamics of Rakim and the depth of Leonard Cohen. That is my goal.•

Lawrence Breavman

●Be sure to check out Harlequin’s music at www.myspace.com/harlequintherapper