Exploring Emotions and Society: Dax, the Thought-Provoking Rapper

The music industry is focused on being polished and releasing material as soon as possible; however, Dax is moving in the opposite direction by slowing everything down and making it feel as if he is creating music in a way that captures how you experience the moment when you are hanging out at a corner store at night with your friends. You have a beer in a brown paper bag, there is radio noise coming from cars, the pavement is still hot beneath your feet—but none of these elements are random. Dax created this environment intentionally because he wants you to understand what he was going through when writing this music.

Dax was born in Canada. He did not come into the music industry looking to chart; instead, he came into the industry looking for truth. Dax's early music shows a clear depiction of the Hero's Journey: the call, the refuse to soften, the inward plunge. For example, his song "Dear God" sounds more like a late-night prayer than something that will get airplay as a single, and it expresses a sense of longing to answer questions that have been left unanswered.

One of the things that sets Dax apart from many of his peers is that he has a lot of narrative bravery. For example, in the song "Book of Revelations," Dax presents a very intimate view of himself, revealing to the listener every mistake he made in life by underlining them in the text. In "Black Lives Matter," Dax has chosen to write with such urgency that he has removed any symbolism from the writing.

Dax's delivery in both of these examples can be described as both unyielding and rough—while ultimately still human. There is an electricity to Dax's vocal harmonies—the thoughts snap into your head before you realize you are having the thought.

The natural evolution of this path leads directly into "The Abyss". This song's approach is not to dramatize/romanticize mental health, instead documenting it. The beat itself is very hollow sounding, echoing as if one were walking in a deserted/abandoned cement parking structure. Dax raps during his drop, rather than after the build-up. There is an underlying isolation that hums along with each bar. Silence is important in this song, as well as breath.

Visually, Dax's video follows this sonic style perfectly: there are sparsely populated frames with zero distractions and he establishes direct eye contact with the viewer. The viewer does not simply observe Dax, but rather "meets" him; this is his intended connection. There are no tricks, no costumes, he simply continues to repeat how he feels (his emotions) in very concrete terms (concrete, ash, etc…) until he has achieved enough repetition to create a 'new' emotion for the viewer.

Dax understands one very important point about how to market music today: Authenticity increases in power as it becomes more detailed. By revealing to the listener a true and honest account of his story without 'masking' it in any way, he in effect encourages the listener to locate their own authentic story. The Abyss does not signify an end, instead it marks the beginning. And in a steady and uncompromising manner, Dax stands there holding the door open.