Today we’d like to introduce you to Elijah Miller.
Hi Elijah, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
It’s August of 2000. I’m in Atlanta. It’s warm. It looks and feels like the 70s, though today I know it was not. There’s a tall building to the left of me. We’re in a pool. My mom is next to me. A young girl swims over. We lock eyes. She asks my mom if she can teach me how to swim. I don’t know why but I remember feeling like I understood those words because the second she asked, I noticed the floaties I was wearing. My mom declined the offer. I didn’t know why until later. Later that day, we were in a hotel room. My cousin came by and asked for extra towels because they ran out in their room. Next I’m on a plane. The screen on the plane isn’t working so my aunt lends me her headphones. I sleep for the entire plane ride with working headphones while my fully awake aunt uses the broken pair.
I told this story at a family reunion when I was about 7 years old. That was the moment I knew I was different. I told that story and watched shock, an almost fearful look, wash across everyone’s face. My cousins were none the wiser. But my aunts and uncles, grandma and grandpa, mom and dad, all were aware that I was only about a a year and half old when all of that happened.
I’ve had a pretty unique life. I was adopted well before my first memory. I lived with several older brother and a little sister. I grew up near the Dexter and Davison area of Detroit. My parents were the kind of black people that wanted to make sure no one knew they were just like all the other “struggling black Americans”. Because of that it looked to most people like I had a decent life, but I’d lying if I said my upbringing was anything less than tumultuous. From sleeping on the floor in one brother’s house to being robbed eight times by another, my life was never lacking in chaos.
When I got to 7th grade, my parents moved me into the private school system. I was always revered for my intellect. My parents knew I was bored in school and that I was different and that my environment would break me before it would make me. I needed a challenge. A place to ask the burning questions I had and have them answered. This was the first time I remember Hajile beginning to build.
I was trapped between two worlds: the hood and the Ivy League. And I was growing a love for both. But I could never get the environments to blend in a way that felt conducive for both parties. And thus the concept of Hajile is born. I created Hajile as an outlet for the duality of my reality. It’s not white music, or black music, or rap music, or pop music. It’s just music. It’s how I feel. It’s what I like. It’s who I am. Every bit of it.
I started making music when I was 6 and have been strengthening my craft and improving my skills ever since. I received a copy of FL Studio for my birthday and haven’t turned away from the program. I solely produced until the age of 17 when I made my first song. It was awful, but I thought it was amazing. It was the first time I felt I had truly found a way to express myself that I enjoyed and was good at.
When I went to college, I joined a music collective called altNubian. We turned weekends in the Wayne State dorms into open studio sessions for anyone in the city who wanted a creative outlet. We frequently collaborated with a peer collective called Bleeding Hearts Club who I would leave altNubian for to join. That decision led to some fallout, but it was in my heart what I felt was right and most strategic for all of our success.
With Bleeding Hearts Club I began to take over local scenes and art districts. I was moving around the city and starting to garner some recognition. Then the Pandemic happened and it felt like the world stopped. The thing we had going for us, our bond and our public image and appearances, were gone. We tried for a while to navigate, but the solidarity forced us to move independently for the first time. Once we had done so, it was hard to put the new formed pieces back together. So the group disbanded with love for one another. Frequently collaborations still happen, but the collective is no more.
The year is now 2022. The Pandemic is socially coming to an end. I haven’t put out any music under my name in two years. AI is improving and the world is becoming more weary of its seemingly limitless capabilities. Music is at a low. Creatively, I’m on a high. I feel ready to conquer the world. So, I set upon a journey to combat the output of AI and flood the internet with what it was lacking: good music of all genres. I created a project called “Hajile Live” in which I released a song per day for the entire year of 2023.
Today, I’m focused on creating art that continues to bring people together, whether it be through hard bars, fast flows, controversial topics, or fun vibes. I hate to say the world is getting crazy because the world has always been crazy from my perspective. As I grown more at peace with myself and the place I’m at in life, I hope to spread that peace with others, one bar at a time.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
If it were a smooth road I wouldn’t be human. There’s family which brings its own drama. I have very old school parents. They were kids during the riots. Trying to have a healthy relationship was always hard. It was always a full household which made recording even harder. There’s the creative struggle of being an up and coming, hungry artist. Trying to navigate the entertainment space in a time where so much creativity has already happened and is being replicated by machines is often daunting to think about. But each of those struggles was an opportunity to learn in my eyes. And they helped make me who I am. I’ve always been a solution based person which makes me very adaptable. Struggles aren’t desired, they brought me a great deal of pain, but they don’t scare me.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
I am a musical artist. I am a producer, singer, rapper, and engineer. I hate to sound arrogant or narcissistic, I’m a very modest person, but I specialize in music. Every part of what I put into a song I feel is a part of my specialty. I don’t approach a rap song as a rapper or and pop song as a singer, I just approach as someone who loves music. I don’t really discriminate against beautiful sound. If you asked fans or collaborators they would probably say I specialize in flow, lyrics, and overall musical curation. I think that is what sets me apart. I think most people think of a song and what they can bring to it. I try to think of what music I can bring out of myself entirely. Whether I feel the need to sing, rap, engineer vocals, is up to the vibe and the music., not what I feel I’m best at. When you listen to my music I don’t want you to think he’s a really good rapper or he’s a really good writer or a really good singer. I just want to be known as a great artist.
What do you like best about our city? What do you like least?
I love the culture. I love how open and free and accepting Detroit is and how unified it is despite that push for diversity. I love our food and our proximity to some of the planets most fascinating bodies of water. I love the spaciousness. I love the cars. I love our connection to music and the foundational history of the country as a whole. I love everything about Detroit. When I first left Detroit, I thought I would fall in love with a new home. But it had the opposite effect. I only fell in love with Detroit more. Because the other cities are cool but it’s what the whole world is doing. It’s hard to explain coneys, Vernors, and Buffs to someone outside of the city but it doesn’t take long to catch on. You have to be here to get it.
There truly isn’t anything I like the least that I could comfortably mention but if I absolutely had to pick one it would be the police. I believe being a cop is an unforgiving job no matter how you look at it, so I always want to acknowledge the really good cops. However, the city has had a poor history of terrible police response time, over policing in struggling communities instead of active criminal territory, and egregious reaction to mental health calls. In a city where culture is very niche and not easily understood, the lack of officers of the cities culture is depressing. And I’ll only speak on this briefly because while I feel passionately, I’m not the most educated on the topic. I’m only speaking from my perspective as a civilian and what I’ve experienced.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hajilederellim?igsh=MWxnd240emo5cWN6eA%3D%3D&utm_source=qr
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/1GggYBBynS/?mibextid=wwXIfr
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/channel/UCGLSfGZXD4iDLBKVz8nYhfw?si=JgS1bcPx3iYa7yBC
- Other: https://li.sten.to/HajileDeRellim?fbclid=PAZnRzaANBhbRleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABp8-MQJi9a8Zdxd2DUHuFIBJ-RlLq26yt0heJ054Y3v14w0vM1TJNVmC3N0wh_aem_W-bzGa_7u2dU7QJGxFCoLA
