Ben Henderson has soared enough of the sparkling sky to pick out the stars of highest importance—mental health over stardom, family over fame, and art that is slow in the making.
If you have gone downtown for any of life’s simple delights—grabbed a coffee or pastry, sipped a beer while DJs spun vinyl, bought tickets to the jazz festival, joined a bike party, or booed a performer off the stage at the Go Go Gone Show—chances are you showed up because you saw Ben Henderson’s artwork.
A painter and designer by trade, Ben’s collective resume of posters, signs, and murals tell a unique history of the ways we gather in the South Bay. His custom designs welcome both first-timers and old-comers to the unique atmospheres of Park Station Hashery, Chromatic Coffee, O’Flaherty’s Irish Pub, and SoFA Market. From an elegant reproduction of Hotel De Anza’s famous Diving Diva on its windows, to the vintage lettering on Palo Alto Fine Wine & Spirits; from the hip facade of Good Karma Artisan Ales & Cafe, to the cherry-red exterior of Sweetdragon Baking Company, Ben’s handiwork identifies cherished local businesses and brightens the streets they occupy.
In 2017, Ben started Brush House, a catchall name for projects that he was increasingly sharing with other artists as they scaled in size and overlapped in timelines. As he continued to direct designs, he brought in team members who could also achieve that remarkably clean line, such as Andrew Sumner and J.Duh.
Ben was the type of boy who grew up drawing whatever, whenever he could. “I especially loved drawing logos of all my favorite heavy metal bands—just blowing through a stack of computer paper with the little dots in the edges.” He put full effort into displays for his class assignments and enjoyed afternoons drawing Simpsons characters alongside his older brothers.
From any angle, Brush House seems like a dream business for the kid who took his first “commissions” from admiring elementary school classmates. “I was actually getting made fun of quite a bit for my weight and other things,” he shares, “so being able to shine with art and get praise and acceptance from my fellow classmates and teachers—I’ve always been drawn to [art] for so many reasons.”
But by middle school, he found himself devoting hours to playing guitar or jamming on drums and bass. “I was always such a ham, and I wanted to perform for my friends, my family, my community,” he says.
In this way, music became the impetus of his artwork. “I was making a ton of graphics in the way of band merch and promotion for my band and my friends’ bands,” he recalls. Between playing with one of his first bands, Delta Activity, and working at Coffee Society, he took on his first gig as a graphic designer.
Funny enough, that commissioned art piece traveled the world before his music did. While touring with newer band Good Hustle, Ben spotted his “Make Coffee Not War” design, modeled after a wartime propaganda poster, on a T-shirt he didn’t recall printing. He asked the wearer how she’d gotten it. “She’s like, ‘I just ordered it from some guy in Australia.’ ” His poster had risen into paper virality, appearing in bastardized versions of itself on T-shirts, mugs, and wall decals sold globally.
And not soon after, his music followed. Ben’s first band, Delta Activity, toured with alternative metal band Dredg. His duo, Brother Grand, supported indie-folk band the Wild Reeds. In 2012, Ben quit a job designing graphics for the county to join a nationwide tour with indie rock band River City Extension as their bass player.
For 15 years, Ben’s music career was on constant rise, as he and his bands accepted invitations to play bigger shows, festivals, and tours. In his life’s nebula, performing was at the center—stardom was likely, but it meant having to endure the collapse in other parts of his life. And some of it couldn’t be earned back.
“I realized that being out on tour as much as I was, I was missing weddings, funerals, birthday parties, baby showers—all for people I really love and care about.” Additionally, the economic demands of performing had changed the experience for him. Whereas he once reveled in the endless possibilities of one line in one song, his mind was now more of a calculator. He habitually concerned himself with what the next concert would pay or how the band’s merch would sell.
And he wasn’t alone in the anxieties. From his vantage point, Ben noticed the struggles of even more established performers with record labels, booking agents, and sponsorships. “They were struggling to pay their bills, take care of their health, be happy, be satisfied, and grateful,” he says. “I realized, it’s going to take me a long time to get where they are. And they’re not even stoked.”
The joy of live performance dwindled. “People could come up to me after a show in tears and be like, ‘That was so amazing. Never stop what you’re doing. You touched so many people’s hearts tonight,’ and inside I would just feel like, ‘I wish you were right.’ ” It was a far cry from the way he played music through junior and high school, jamming for hours on guitar, every single day, hopping from drums, to bass, to the mic, all because it was fun and brought people together.
So Ben made a deal with himself. “I said, ‘For the next year, I’m going to focus on art only.’ ” The commitment was quiet—Ben told no one—but the change was clear: he simply stopped performing in public. He turned down shows and put all the touring and recording on hiatus.
Only a few weeks in, he realized it was the best decision. “For the first time in a while my bills were paid. I was not falling behind. I was getting so much done.” Ben soaked it all in: time with the people he loved, space to reflect on his relationships, and the inner peace that a younger version of himself lacked. “It took me identifying my values,” he explains. “Before, I didn’t have any of that. It was just like, whatever the next biggest thing is, that’s what I wanted.” Those closest to him—especially his wife, Erin—share his values of health, family, and friends. “We’re just remarkably mellow and happy together,” he says.
Freed from the need for his musicianship to generate money or sense of self-worth, Ben states, “I have reclaimed my music as my fine art.” It looks like coming right back to the beginning, when he composed without an agenda. “I will sit there and play with one song idea for months on end, overly obsessing about the minutiae of one song—because I’m allowed to, and because I allow myself to. And that’s exciting,” he says.
That’s fantastic news for anyone who’s heard Ben perform, whether 20 years ago or just last month on a stage somewhere downtown. He’s also planning to record this winter. We can look forward to definitive versions of beloved Ben Henderson classics, as well as newer experiments reflecting this phase of his life. “I’m going to be still performing whenever I want, whenever I can, and have fun with it,” he promises himself, “and be relentlessly creative and experimental with it because I can and because I should.”
Join Tommy and Universal Grammar at SJZ Break Room on August 21, 2024, at The Changing Same, featuring live performances by Madison McFerrin and Milan Ring, backed up by Universal Grammar Djs Chalé Brown and Zuri Alexa. All ages. Doors at 7p. Showtime at 8p.
Tommy Aguilar founded Universal Grammar as a collective of like-minded individuals interested in producing events that could shape culture through music, art, and community curating. Tommy prefers the title of ‘producer’ rather than ‘music promoter’ to describe his work. He treats event production as an art form. He shares, “Everything that Universal Grammar has done since day one has been very intentional. It was born out of what I saw in San Jose and not seeing a space for myself.” Since its founding in 2001, Universal Grammar has brought acts such as Kaytranada (Live At The Pagoda), The Internet (Jazz Beyond), Aloe Blacc (The Changing Same), Hiatus Kaiyote (Live At The Pagoda), Flying Lotus (The Changing Same), Thundercat (Jazz Beyond), Little Dragon (Live At The Pagoda), Questlove of The Roots (Universal Grammar presents), and Jazzy Jeff (Universal Grammar presents) all in support of its mission to present quality artistry and emerging contemporary voices to the South Bay.
In this conversation, Tommy Aguilar discusses the very early days of his interest in music and event production, the nuanced arena of producing music events in the South Bay, what events he has coming up, and the future of Universal Grammar.
At the center of Needle to the Groove Records lie four friends whose bonds have been strengthened in the pursuit of amplifying art. “Don’t put any of our jokes on the record,” cautions Allen Johnson.
“Unless they land,” chimes David Ma. The witty banter among Johnson, Ma, Michael Boado, and Jeff Brummett reveals the camaraderie on which the Needle to the Groove (NTTG) label has been built.
“That’s what our vision was from the jump: Let’s find [music] we like. Let’s get it out there. Let’s not be too stressed on [asking] ‘Did it sell out?’ ” explains Johnson. Their business dealings remain casual, as they’re far more likely to talk shop over a bottle of Jameson than to call for a formal meeting. Grounded in a shared desire to not let the business of records ruin their friendships, they’ve developed a broad musical catalog that stands as a testament to the great musical diversity found throughout the Bay Area.
“You can’t pigeonhole us, that’s for sure,” explains Boado, “and we want to keep that going.”
Collectively, the label partners carry deep connections in numerous music scenes. Johnson and Boado run NTTG’s downtown San Jose record shop (Dan Bernal, owner of NTTG’s Fremont location, is a silent label partner). Boado, a fixture in the local club scene known as DJ Basura, is a partner at The Ritz in downtown San Jose. Ma is a renowned music journalist who recently began teaching a hip-hop history course at San Jose State University. Brummett has been a musical mainstay, contributing to numerous local bands over the years.
“It’s a crazy feeling when someone that I don’t recognize walks in and asks for something specifically on the label. I’m just blown away.”
Allen Johnson
Soon after opening NTTG’s downtown San Jose location, Johnson and Boado wanted to branch out. “There was an appeal to do something that had a higher ceiling and could correspond with the shop,” recalls Johnson. In the early 2000s, he ran Birthwrite Records out of his apartment while living in Chicago, and he remembers the struggle of selling releases without a true place of business. After reading about the history of Stax Records, which started when the now legendary label opened a recording studio in the back of a record shop, he saw how their storefront could double as label headquarters, offering visibility for their efforts.
Since 2016, NTTG has released nearly 40 titles of varying formats and styles. There are the overlooked gems: cassette-only releases like Kiri’s ambient Practice Bird Heads and the Apatheater EP, a collaboration between DJ Platurn and rapper Edgewize. There’s the unexpected home run: Prince Paul and Don Newkirk’s By Every Means Necessary, Vol. 1, the soundtrack to a Netflix documentary on Malcolm X. There’s the rising creative voices of Modesto Latin rockers Valley Wolf, and Bay Area-based beatmakers Mild Monk and mint.beats. Diamond Ortiz, the most-released artist on the label, is a g-funk diehard and master of the talk box.
“Our eclectic tastes are represented in the artists [we support],” notes Brummett. “I think we’re kind of celebrating our differences.” The imprint’s musical variance has become their hallmark. Ma states their hope is for the label to be trusted by listeners, no matter the release. “Hopefully [the label logo] becomes like a seal of excellence,” he says.
“I think we want to be there for the deviations,” adds Brummett, highlighting how much the label believes in letting artists be themselves. “Strange Things” by producer and songwriter B. Lewis is arguably the most mellow track in his discography, while “Jaan e Jaan” by Aki Kumar adds a dash of dusty Bollywood funk to Kumar’s otherwise blues-centric persona.
While all four stress that the label is a labor of love, they also view their work as a distinct privilege that lets them shed light on the efforts of unsung creators. It’s a point that hits home for Brummett, since numerous friends and fellow musicians have found an outlet in NTTG and its offshoot label, Slow Thrive, which releases projects from DIY bedroom artists and under-the-radar bands.
“Those are the guys that mean the most to me because they obviously care. If you are not getting any attention or money, and you’ve been doing it for 15 years, this must mean a lot to you,” he shares. “We get to curate that to the world.”
Next year, the label plans to roll out Valley Wolf’s long-awaited full-length debut, which features sessions produced by Chicano Batman’s Eduardo Arenas. It will also be time for Johnson to step back into the limelight as a creator. He’s set to release Starduster, an EP from legendary rapper Casual, featuring beats from Johnson under his alias, Albert Jenkins.
The label may still have plenty of work on the horizon, but that doesn’t prevent Johnson from stepping back and feeling a great sense of pride every time they sell one of their titles at the shop. “It’s a crazy feeling when someone who I don’t recognize walks in and asks for something specifically on the label,” he shares. “I’m just blown away.”
As is the case with many a music fanatic, Kia Fay’s intimate relationship with sound stretches past the point of tangible memory. She remembers learning rhythm (and math) from beating on pieces of cardboard as a child, of singing practically her whole life, and the music of Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, and Beastie Boys being her first musical totems.
Coincidentally, it was her love for the immortal MJ that first got her on stage with Ash Maynor and Ghost & the City (GATC). They needed a singer for a Halloween show, and with “Thriller” on the set list, Fay jumped at the chance to sing her idol’s music. “I was like, ‘I get to wear a costume, I get to sing MJ. This is all golden,’ ” she fondly recalls. “I didn’t realize that was an audition of sorts.” That guest spot was the first collaboration in what’s now been a six-year journey with the group, whose sound features a brooding musical stew of soulful, jazzy, and electronic components.
The Time EP—which earned the band accolades from Afropunk and Bust magazines and slots opening for Hiatus Kaiyote and the Internet, has brought the brightest attention yet to GATC, whose latest album is the result of, in Fay’s words, an “executive decision to do only what we wanted in its pure form.” It’s their first work to feature Fay’s full creative input and the most direct outgrowth of her “mind-fi” with Maynor, the term for their near-telepathic musical connection. “I don’t fit specifically into one box or another in a lot of respects, so it’s cool to finally be able to make music where I don’t need to try to anymore,” notes Fay with a laugh.
Accepting authenticity rather than fighting it is a huge theme in Fay’s story. Despite years in choirs, she noticed that she never got to solo until she was at UC Berkeley singing with the female a cappella group the California Golden Overtones. It was a refreshing change for her voice—full-bodied, emotive, and powerful—to take the spotlight. Her voice feels like GATC’s secret ingredient, with the music seemingly shaped around her distinct delivery.
Yet music hasn’t been her only outlet for authenticity. Since relocating to San Jose, she’s also established herself as the Curl Consultant, advocating for clients to celebrate their hair in its natural state rather than modifying it to conform to societal standards. “I joke that it’s driven by stubbornness, but it seemed unacceptable to me that in a space as diverse as San Jose, with as many different permutations and beautiful combinations of humans that we have, there weren’t more folks dedicated to encouraging people to exist in their natural state as it relates to their hair,” says Fay.
“I don’t fit specifically into one box or another in a lot of respects, so it’s cool to finally be able to make music where I don’t need to try to anymore.”
She first started working with hair out of necessity. Fay spent time doing theater, where she became the de facto stylist because no one could properly style her hair. However, she never saw the trade as a viable career option until her move to San Jose propelled her to be the change and to establish a space the city desperately needed. “The bulk of the feedback I’ve received has been that the work I do is liberating,” admits Fay. “That’s the best-case scenario for me: freeing anybody from a restriction they thought they had that was only an artificial restriction. Hopefully I can plant that seed for other folks, and they in turn will stand as beacons wherever they are.”
As a person of mixed descent who struggled over the years with where she fit in, Fay’s now using her two creative pursuits to help others recognize and celebrate their own unique tastes and identities through communion and connection. “We have to stop being so wedded to [the idea that] ‘This is what beauty looks like. This is what music looks like,’ and just accept beauty when we see it and hopefully foster what comes naturally to people and stop encouraging them to resist their more authentic selves, in any capacity,” she says.
Rooted in the Bay Area and based in San José, Rosé began pursuing music at 16 to bring a new era and sound to the scene. As an emerging rapper and hip-hop artist, Rosé is working hard to establish himself by performing, releasing new projects, and building a local and international fanbase.
Inspired by artists such as Drake, Future, Torey Lanez, and Bugatti, Rosé works to express himself across vocal mediums, blending styles of rap and singing to express himself authentically. Influenced by his family’s love for 90s hip hop while growing up, he aims to cultivate his versatile style like those early rap pioneers did.
Rosé plans to release a trilogy of ‘Bay Born’ mixtapes that showcase the sounds he is cultivating from the Bay and capture the sound of his career at different stages. He is also working on a project called “Last Week” that will represent different days of the week based on a difficult period he went through while doing his last project. Rosé is focused on constantly releasing new singles and videos and performing live shows to continue growing his fanbase and career.
His new project, “5” with Cam G, is an EP available on all streaming platforms, and you can also find all his other music on all streaming platforms.
Follow him on Instagram @sjro28 for updates on his music and live show dates.
In Troy’s conversation with Rosé, they discuss his journey as an artist, his new project with Cam G “5”, and the state of the San Jose rap scene.
Host Troy Ewers is a journalist and personality from Southside San Jose, CA, and has a background in music, film, and sports. Troy aims to highlight art and culture through music, fashion, film, and sports. Check out Troy Ewers on the Content Magazine Podcast, Instagram @trizzyebaby.
Juan Miguel Saucedo, 25, sits comfortably in an office chair at the helm of his cozy recording setup, intermittently burning sage. Reference speakers, keyboards, and a mixing console consume table space, and a drum kit is tucked away in a back corner of a converted cellar. It’s a concrete-walled nest of creativity that birthed the persona Miguel Kultura, Saucedo’s latest creative incarnation.
In a way, the space has come full circle, and Saucedo himself has returned to his origins. It was in these same confines a decade ago when he first set up a USB mic to start rapping over instrumentals with two friends as Money Hungry Click. Inspired by the thriving southern rap scene at the time, they sold copies of their first mixtape while freshmen at Willow Glen High School.
“[We were] just being hoodlums and trying to chase money and hustle,” he says of his first foray into music. For Saucedo, music became an alternative to the gang life he saw friends and neighbors fall into growing up. “I like to think of myself like Kendrick [Lamar]. I was always around it and was this close to joining a gang but never had the commitment to do it,” he shares, noting that he didn’t know if that was the lifestyle he wanted to lead.
Thankfully, those childhood years listening to Tupac in his older brother’s red Camaro Z/28 hinted that something else was written in his story. Once Saucedo got his hands on the PSP game Traxxpad, he shifted his energy toward making beats, later doing so under the aliases Beats by Fly and Funkadelic Fly. (Both are variations of his inescapable neighborhood nickname, “Mosca.”) After years of honing his craft with other young creatives at various community centers around San Jose, he joined up with young multimedia collective BAMN (By Any Media Necessary).
Miguel Kultura was birthed out of a time of serious physical concern and deep spirituality. While still with BAMN, Saucedo began dealing with a mystery illness that had him believing he was slowly inching toward death. Through visions and meditation, he heard a call to establish a new musical identity, one where he returned to rapping.
“Trabajando,” or “Working,” was his first foray into that new sound and the first time he wrote lyrics in Spanglish. With a buzzing synth and skittering percussion, Saucedo raps about the Latino struggle for visibility and acceptance, with lines like, “My father said we came here to work / Latinos go hard every day in the dirt” and “The son of a farmer can’t be tamed.” He dives more fully into that voice on “Conformar,” similarly Spanglish but more Spanish-forward. The song tackles the notion of conformity. It also alludes to the idea of resilience in the aftermath of losing friends too soon to depression.
“This is what I’m supposed to be doing. It was already written in the stars.”
“As a Mexican-American growing up, you have these two identities,” he points out. “People from Mexico look at you like you’re not one of them, and people here don’t look at you like you’re American either, so it’s always a challenge to be a Mexican American. As I get older, I ask myself, ‘How can I merge these two identities?’ ” By leveraging his proficiency in both languages (he grew up bilingual), Saucedo hopes his work as Miguel Kultura fosters a bridge of connection and understanding across cultural and language barriers.
The journey has also helped him better acknowledge his musical roots outside hip-hop, allowing him to reconnect with the traditional Mexican songs his father taught him on piano as a child and the continued influence of local Norteño music legends Los Tigres del Norte.
A video for “Conformar” is forthcoming, accompanied by a minidocumentary series that shares stories of young local Latinx creatives pushing in their own way to not conform to societal and cultural expectations. In that sense, Saucedo is using his creative work to speak to a greater cultural struggle.
Sometimes, Saucedo speaks about Miguel Kultura in the third person. It seems to be a recognition that his work under this banner doesn’t stem from his creativity alone. Based on all that’s led to this creative moment, Saucedo believes something greater is at play. “It’s not so much about the accolades, the rewards, whatever. This is what I’m supposed to be doing,” he admits, pointing to the significance legacy plays in how he views his work. “It was already written in the stars.”
