After cancer, biggest gig yet
Milwaukee musician Mo Pelman is thriving and wants to give back.
October 28 is a date Mo Pelman will never forget.
It’s when the electronic producer and DJ from Shorewood, known as Moses, will perform the biggest gig of his career for thousands of people at the Wisconsin Center, as part of the Jawbreaker Festival, opening for EDM stars Odesza and RL Grime.
It’s also the date, two years ago, when he began chemotherapy treatment for leukemia.
“It’s pretty trippy,” Pelman, 28, told the Journal Sentinel. “It was the worst time of my life. … Now I’m opening up for Odesza.”
But it’s also the next logical step for a man who’s loved and practiced music most of his life, who appreciates what he has, knowing that he may not have made it to this moment.
A wake-up call on vinyl
Music was all around Pelman as a child, when he split his time between his mother in Shorewood and father in Fox Point. Marvin Gaye, David Bowie and Led Zeppelin were among the family favorites.
“Some people’s parents wake them up with an alarm clock or by shaking them,” Pelman said. “My dad would play vinyl records on Sunday mornings. It was the best way to get woken up for breakfast.”
In elementary school, Pelman played cello. In middle school, percussion. Then for his 18th birthday, his mom bought him the Fruity Loops music production program.
“I was addicted,” Pelman said. “It was around the time Soulja Boy released (’Crank That’). I was like, ‘Yo, this guys is famous, and I just remade this beat in five minutes.’ That was literally the moment where I thought maybe I can do more of this.”
While at Madison Media Institute, Pelman, influenced by hip-hop acts like Atmosphere and Kanye West, launched a label and artist collective, Higher Education Records. It had a viral hit in late 2010, “Feelin So Fly Like a Cheesehead,” coinciding with the Packers’ Super Bowl-winning season, and viewed nearly 2 million times on YouTube.
With various groups and as a solo artist, Pelman opened in Milwaukee for such major artists as Big Sean, Kaskade, Machine Gun Kelly and Lupe Fiasco. He opened a studio in Shorewood in 2013, and in addition to releasing his own songs, has produced and engineered recordings for local artists like B~Free, Siren and D’Amato.
‘Something was off’
But by October 2016, Pelman knew “something was off.”
He was used to carrying heavy gear, but he struggled to lug a small mixer to a gig. He couldn’t keep up with his dad as they walked downtown to catch a Bucks game. He had an intense workout routine at the time, but he couldn’t even get through the warm-up without getting winded.
“I felt completely exhausted,” he said.”I could hear my heartbeat after the most minimal activities for no apparent reason.”
His mom urged him to go to a walkin clinic. He did, and he got a call as soon as he got back home.
“They said, ‘We have your blood work, you need to go to the emergency room immediately,’ “Pelman said.
His white blood-cell count was supposed to be between 6,000 and 10,000. It was at 102.
At the ER, the doctor broke the news: He likely had leukemia. From there, he went to Froedtert Hospital, where the doctor told him “I would have died in two weeks if I hadn’t come to the hospital.”
He spent much of his time over the next four months in the hospital, celebrating every little victory he could — after the chemotherapy, his hair lasted longer than he was told it likely would — and enduring painful side effects.
There was excruciating knee pain and, at one point, his feet became so swollen water was actually secreting from his ankles. He developed such terrible mouth sores he couldn’t eat or drink for two weeks, and had to take sustenance intravenously.
“It was just hell,” he said. “I was waking up, praying for the day to end.”
And there was the psychological toll. On Feb. 4, 2017, he had a critical bone marrow transplant, but had to wait for results from a biopsy to know if it had successfully eliminated the cancer. There was a 50 percent chance it did, he said.
“Will I survive, will I die? It was like, ‘Who’s got a quarter?’ “Pelman said. “I don’t think I talked at all that week, besides answering yes or no to questions. My whole life was revolving around getting a message back on whether the cancer was gone. … That (expletive) with you.”
Music with a new purpose
But after a week of uncertainty, good news. And when he reached a significant milestone – 100 days, cancer-free — Pelman made a beat, the first time he had created music since his diagnosis.
Now, he’s starting to pick up where his life before leukemia left off. Earlier this month, he relaunched Higher Education Records at a showcase at Company Brewing.
And Pelman’s making songs. On Wednesday, he dropped a music video for his new single, “Bandit,” and on Friday, ahead of his big gig, he will release an EP, “Side Effects.”
And now, he feels there’s a higher calling beyond making songs and playing shows.
When friends orchestrated a comeback gig at club Site 1A last November, Pelman insisted it be a fundraiser for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and he’s planning to have a nonprofit component in a new music event series he’s launching this month.
“After surviving something like this, I feel like I have a platform to do some good,” he said. “It feels like an obligation.”