Over the past year, two words have circulated through whispers within London’s live underground: BLACK FONDU. The 21-year-old Peckham rapper and self-taught producer has cultivated a near-phantasmic presence, fusing hyperpop with noise and punkish fervour. Yet despite his explosive live sets, BLACK FONDU has otherwise remained elusive; even as murmurs turn to open hype around such a singular voice, he offers little beyond cryptic, irregular posts online. Reggie keeps his camera off during our video call, but once he starts talking he’s disarmingly open – about psychedelics, the “family vibes” at the Windmill, and why, to him, visuals matter just as much as the music.
How’s your day been?
Pretty good. I quit smoking yesterday, and I’ve just been making this crazy soup to clear out my fucking lungs.
Your debut EP ‘Black Fonduism’ has been out nearly a week. How does it feel to have it out, and how have you been finding the reaction so far?
It feels good, man. It’s like a weight has been lifted, I feel like I can move forward now with momentum. What was the second question?
How are you finding the reaction so far?
Oh, it’s sick. Fucking sick. I think people are getting the sound and the lore and what I’m trying to build. And I’m excited for the release show, actually. 5th of December at Bermondsey Social. I haven’t posted about it yet, I should do that.
What do you hope people feel when they listen to Black Fonduism?
I want them to feel completely disconnected from reality, but then connected again. Like rewiring. Kind of a breath of air that is so different from other shit that’s out, you know? A reconfiguration type shit.
There’s also a lot of deep personal stuff combined with comedy and satire – what do you think drew you to that comedic tone?
Because life is comedy. As the moments feel serious, you’ve got to laugh about everything, you know? The underlying emotion is real, but you’ve got to laugh back. The serious bit is laughable. I don’t know how to say it, but I find in taking something seriously, you’re missing the point of all of this.
All your music videos are made by you – how important is the visual element to you?
The visual part is just as important as the song, in my opinion. I’ve always been into film,
I used to want to be a director, whatever. Whenever I make a song, I close my eyes and I imagine shit in my head, I see images and colours and shit. And actually, I’m Not Sleeping came in a dream, which was mental. I was just dreaming and I saw these female Roman sculpture things which were flying towards my eyes. In black space, they were coming, boom, boom, boom, like 100 just flying at my head. I woke up and I was like, what the fuck was that? So I decided, how about we actually make what we saw?
In So Young, you described music as “psychedelic” to you. Can you elaborate on that, what does that mean in practice?
When me and my friends play music together, and we know it’s good, we often describe it as drugs, or we call it God-coded. It’s kind of like high art. Psychedelics and shit are the connection to the universe, and psychedelia in general is the connection. Shit, I forgot the question again. ADHD.
For such an experimental EP, beginning with something as recognisable as Hollaback Girl was quite surprising. What made you want to open with that familiarity?
I wanted to allow people to enter the world. I didn’t want to scare people straight away with what was coming, because I knew what was coming. I call it the bridge. Hollaback Girl was also the first beat I made before making this EP, so it kind of marked the beginning of it.
You grew up surrounded by music in Ghana. How influential do you think that environment was, and are there any echoes of it in your work today?
I mean, it’s the foundation, right? I think I developed an ear for deep feeling and sensitivity, and that definitely influences me because that’s the same person as I am now. My reaction to sounds is the same.
With such a strong classical foundation from your parents, what do you think pulled you towards a more experimental left field path?
Oh, that’s life. That was life experience, you know? I still like classical music, but obviously shit happened in my life, and I suddenly got all these complex emotions flying through me, and how do you communicate that? How I communicate that is by making noise. I make noise, I make fucking trash beats and disgusting ass shit. That’s my protest, you know? My inner protest.
Your music feels led by instinct and feeling rather than any kind of formula. How does that manifest, what’s the process when you go to create a track?
Alright, so when did I last make a beat? Yesterday. What did I do yesterday? I got up, I have my coffee in my hand and shit, open up Ableton. I start a project, and it just happens, bro. I just play around, I’ll click on maybe like a sine wave, and I’ll play it on the keyboard or something. Then I’ll just fucking react. Whenever I open a computer, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do, but I trust how I’ll react to whatever idea. I’m never fearful. I see it as like playing a game or like playing, not something you should take seriously. So I don’t really attach any fear to creation. It’s all just instinct and impulse – I remove myself from the equation.
It sounds like quite an isolated process – do you ever open that up to collaborations?
Yeah I’ve been doing collaborations with a close friend of mine, Isaiah Hull. He’s like a phantom, like me, in a way. We met a few years ago, I went to his show at the Windmill and I was blown away and shit, but that planted the seed and we made an album – we got quite a few songs together which we’re going to release. I’ve got the other friend from Paris, fucking Saint Izaur, I’ve got albums with him. But this is all recent shit. Like I’ve been making these two, three projects for the past two months while doing my new shit. So it’s been busy with making, and I kind of want to chill out right now.
You mentioned the Windmill, how important or helpful was the sense of community there when you were starting out?
Oh, it was so helpful. My library. I never felt it was toxic, I felt it was all good – I had no bad energy, I had no bad anything. It’s just a place where you can chill, smoke, listen to music. They don’t care if you smoke weed, they don’t care if you smoke crack. It’s the Windmill! Family vibes.
Most of the new EP was written in the weeks after your laptop broke, after you nearly lost everything. What was it about that moment that triggered such intense creative output?
So basically, I made Hollaback Girl, and the next day, I opened my laptop and smoked the knees of my fucking laptop, bro. It blew my fucking mind. I thought I lost everything. Sorry I forgot the question again, I was imagining that day.
What was it about that moment that made you want to write so much?
I actually have a pretty good, consistent creating process. Mostly, I make beats every day and make music quite a lot, but this was biblical man. When that laptop went by, I was like, fuck! And when I found all my data and stuff back, my reaction was mental, bro. I crashed out again, it was like a celebration crash out. And then I started crying and shit, then I opened Ableton and I just started making – I didn’t stop. I made so many beats that day just because I was able to again. It gave me an acceleration because for the EP, I said to myself, imagine the laptop is going to smoke up and say goodbye again, this is the last shit you’ll ever make. And I was like, fuck. So there was this kind of value in the act of making it – not life and death, but you know what I mean?
Last month marked two years since you released debut single Manboy on Soundcloud. What have you learned, musically or personally, since then?
That was two years ago? That’s a crazy throwback. Oh, man. Sorry, what was the question? I forgot about that song.
What have you learned musically and personally in those two years, and how have you developed as an artist or as a person?
I think since I started uni in 2023, from every month from then till now, I’ve been on an upgrade. I feel like every month I’m getting renewed, or there’s been some kind of realisation that helps the work and the art. I kind of base my music on exactly how I feel when I make it in the present moment. And life’s been crazy, I’ve been going to see a lot of art and a lot of music. I just feel I’ve reached a point where I trust me completely.
Manboy was two years ago, where do you see Black Fondu two years in the future?
I just want to put out fucking music, bro. I want album one out, I want album two out, I want album three out. In two years, I hope I have dropped three albums. That’s it.
Words: Donovan Livesey