Whether she realizes it or not (and she probably does) Jasmine Curtis-Smith is the wayward millennial’s true spirit animal
I HAVE TO ASK, in the middle of an articulate and well-thought out rant, Jasmine Curtis-Smith if she’ll allow me to print anything and everything she’s just said, and has yet to say. “Yeah, I guess?” she says, a bit hesitant. But in the space of a nanosecond, literally blink-and-you’llmiss-it, that hesitance immediately turns into unabashed swagger. “Yeah! I’m just being honest, right?” she follows up quickly, each word in this sentence slightly slurred, dripping with the con dence of knowing just what it is you’re talking about. It is the swagger of a thousand falling pipebombs.
I feel like it’s the thousandth time I’ve had to ask her this in the course of this interview, when it’s really only the rst I guess I must’ve been silently asking her in my head over the many times she’s made a brutally honest opinion about, well, the industry she’s in. She does not hold back and by God, I appreciate her for it, especially after going through a glut of personalities proffering safe answers to protect themselves. Or managers chiding me for publishing things they’d rather not share with the world. Truth is in short supply around these parts.
What’s better, though, is that she’s also wise enough to not overplay her cards and be too aggressive. I appreciate her all the more for that. You should, too.
I would have never revisited the most recent Kendrick Lamar album to seek a little inspiration if Jasmine didn’t blast
King Kunta and Alright while she was being made up for her shoot. I would have never taken another listen, until probably much later, to the album’s epic closing track, Mortal Man, which is split in two halves. The rst is a normal rap song with a normal composition, and the second an ethereal moment in which Kendrick converses, through the magic of editing technology, with the long-dead Tupac Shakur.
Their conversation is capped with a poem. The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city
While consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive
One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but
the beauty within the caterpillar
But having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the
Already surrounded by this mad city the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him He can no longer see past his own thoughts He’s trapped
Jasmine Curtis-Smith is a caterpillar. She is a millennial who isn’t entirely happy in the jungle she lives in, an unforgiving landscape she never wanted to be part of in the rst place, one of fakery and prancing and absurdity and conformity and relentless, sometimes degrading work. Like the best of us tend to do as much as the worst of us, she falls into an existential trap every now and then, usually in solitude and exhaustion,