Most people want to ease into the new year. Still, music waits for no one, for better or worse.
Before resolutions even start to settle, there’s already a new song, a new album, and a new artist demanding attention and forcing us to rethink our worldview in real time.
Yet, the start of 2026 feels volatile. Not just in the music itself, but in everything surrounding it. AI artists signing million-dollar deals. Virality replacing the work of building a fanbase. “Content” as the new language of value instead of craft. Streaming platforms like Spotify choosing to loudly devalue musicians who don’t meet newly imposed thresholds.
To put it plainly, there is a war on art. And more specifically, a war on the artist.
One question hangs over independent music right now: What’s actually preserving art? What can’t be automated, optimized, or duplicated?
The answer: bringing people out in 1 room.
On January 16th, that room was Café Erzulie.
JUSTEND, a New York–based artist raised between Queens and Long Island, sold out the 150-plus-capacity space—an unassuming Brooklyn bar that’s become a cornerstone for DIY music among Black artists, and just as often, a place people go to have too good of a time.
Leading up to the show, JUSTEND’s presence was impossible to ignore online—his TikToks constantly landing on my FYP, backed by 3.1M likes and a 32K-strong following. But what locked it in for me were the flyers taped around the city. Just three words: POP. RAP. PUNK.
The lineup featured Perry Maysun, Bolaji, Isiah Poet, AHK Sair.
A curation too rare to miss.
“Requiem for dream” was the first song that really caught my attention — “just pick up the phone, can’t leave you alone, I need to know what you’re on.” Rooted in lo-fi, early-2000s R&B, the sound feels timeless, unconcerned with trend cycles. Newer tracks like “RAINMAN” reveal a more pensive turn, blending understated rap with hypnotic, melancholic acoustics.
Still, to describe him by a single genre would be distasteful. His catalog moves between alternative R&B, rap, and pop-punk without ever settling into a single lane. And while his songs don’t categorize neatly, they share a distinct feeling: unfiltered emotion.
And to no shock, the show manifested that feeling.
I arrived during peak soundcheck, the acoustics bleeding out onto Broadway before I even reached the door. As the band dialed in, my first thought was simple: the music sounds good. Not good for a DIY show—just good. Groovy live instrumentation you’d expect from a band that’s been playing together for years, even though this was one of his first self-thrown shows.
He’s easy to spot: big baggy blue jeans, a colorful plaid button-up, his signature newsboy cap. Possessing an unusual presence for a night’s closer: greeting people, setting up merch, checking in with the band, jamming along as other performers rehearsed. Calm. Mild-mannered.
It wasn’t lost on me that this was the dead of winter, barely two weeks into the new year—normally enough to keep people home. Yet the room pulled in every kind of person: men and women, young and old, alternative kids, rap heads, people who’d traveled from Jersey, even Texas. It felt unlikely, and somehow inevitable.
So, how does a room like this even happen?
JUSTEND and friends had created an environment where the only prerequisite to being there was expressing yourself. Every performer, regardless of genre, had something to say about having a good time, being yourself, and challenging the system. JUSTEND was the exclamation point. Between fan favorites, he spoke loudly about freedom and community — at one moment even cutting through the room with a blunt: “Fuck, ICE.”
Throughout the night, his star quality as an emerging artist is undeniable. He moves people, performs with them vs. at them, and makes the room feel free — all without ever putting himself on a pedestal.His mission is pointed: connection with the people he makes music with, and the people who listen.
48 hours later, we met up at Deep Cut Records in Ridgewood. Post-show rush. He’s mellow, but curious. Even flipping our conversation to ask about my upbringing as easily as I ask about his record collection.
He’s genuine. A trait clearly visible in his performance, even clearer in one-on-one moments. We chat about what it takes to build a real fanbase IRL, what the buzzword “community” actually means to him, and the message behind his new project Audio Basquiat.
You chose Café Erzulie for your first self-thrown show. Packed room, full live band, a lineup you curated yourself. Why now, and why build the night around these artists and live instrumentation?
JUSTEND: I’ve wanted to do it for a while, but after my Meemaw passed, community became even more important.. I built a community online for years, but I needed to see people in person. I wanted to create a space where creatives—and anyone who just wants to feel something—could come together. I talked to my friend Mac for help, and SoundFynd helped put it together too. All the artists are on the same wavelength as me. We’re pushing the same message. Everyone except Balaji is New York–based, and when I went to Houston and met him, I saw he was doing the same thing there. We’re all trying to create a movement. There’s power in numbers.
A lot of music today feels fragmented—different egos, different cliques—but when people are aligned, you can really build something. That’s what the band was about too. Live instrumentation brings intention. It brings people together in a way tracks alone don’t.
Music scenes talk a lot about community, but what does it really mean to you? What’s missing today?
JUSTEND: We’re in love with the same thing. Music is a team sport. If you start thinking you’re better than someone else, you’ve already lost the point. I’d rather do it with my friends than end up somewhere alone.
Community is about people coming together—talking, hanging out, helping each other, taking it beyond the shows. I don’t want listeners to just hear my music and leave. I want them to leave with a friend. We’re missing that kind of community today. Back in the day, my older brother went to Mad Decent Block Party—it just felt different. AI music is rising, and it scares me, but if we connect in real life, even alongside online, we can preserve authentic experiences.
Friday’s crowd was diverse. Men, women, young, old, rap heads, alternative folks. What’s the red thread that brings your fanbase together?
JUSTEND: I think emotion. Regardless of who you are, everyone feels the same things, just in different situations. My music is a reflection of that. That’s the through-line. And freedom—being able to express it.
Your music resonates with a lot of women, and you collaborate with women frequently. What do you want women to feel when they listen?
JUSTEND: I want them to feel empowered and free. I was raised by women—especially my mom—which shaped how I understand emotion. Vulnerability isn’t weakness. If you can transfer emotion through music, you should. A lot of women artists inspire me—Sade, Solange, Missy Elliott, Janet Jackson—they’re all intentional.
You shouted out your Meemaw at your show. How does her influence, especially as a choir director, show up in your music and how you perform?
JUSTEND: She influenced everything—the way I express myself, even how I move on stage. My favorite color is pink, which is now my brand color, and that’s because I used to watch her wear these beautiful garments in purple and pink.
Going to church with her, hearing harmonies, seeing how music brought people together—that shaped me. Without her, I wouldn’t really understand music as a community experience. She was deeply committed to bringing people together, whether it was church or a cookout. She made sure everyone was good. I want to do the same.
You’ve talked a lot about “THE JUSTEND AGENDA”. You shouted it out at your show, it’s on your t-shirts. Break that down.
JUSTEND: It’s hard to explain. Freedom of expression. Creating spaces where people can be themselves and evolve. Right now, there’s pressure to conform. I’m pushing against that.
People are scared to be seen. I want to push against that.
I’m inspired by eras like the ’70s and ’90s—times of real artistic evolution and renaissance. That’s what I’m trying to create now. It’s hard for people to be themselves. Everyone is constantly being perceived. It feels like a million eyes are on you, even when you don’t have a million dollars. People judge quickly. I think it’s important to bring humanity back into things. That’s what I’m trying to do.
Your upcoming album is titled Audio Basquiat. Why Basquiat as the influence?
JUSTEND: Basquiat showed the Black experience isn’t one-dimensional. The industry tries to box you in. This project is about complexity—being proud of where you come from and existing fully as yourself. It’s my story as a person and as a Black and Indigenous artist today. It’s about what I’ve gone through and making something people can relate to, no matter where they’re from.
There’s a side of hip-hop, punk, and rock—especially within the Black experience—that hasn’t really been expressed in the mainstream. I want to tell that story authentically.
You work across mediums—skating, architecture, visual art. How does that shape your music?
JUSTEND: It taught me that art, no matter the medium, is a tool for change. Painting isn’t that different from music—music is just auditory painting. All art works together. Especially right now, it feels like there’s a war against art, and it’s important to protect real expression, in any form.
You’ve stated impact > numbers many times. What does that look like for you?
JUSTEND: You can go viral and still not affect anyone. I’d rather have 100 people who really rock with me show up to a show. Online platforms should be a catalyst for real-life connection, not the end goal.
Your hooks stick—like Requiem for a Dream. What makes a hook hit for you?
JUSTEND: Ahh. It’s the culmination of the song’s lyrics—the breaking point. A good hook is catchy and relatable. Something people can sing along to and feel connected with.
Lastly, the GROWN question. How are you grown, how are you growing?
JUSTEND: I’m really growing in knowing what I want and growing every day how to get there more clearly. Protecting my peace too.
Anything you want to leave people with?
JUSTEND: Audio Basquiat drops this spring. Whatever you’re going through, figure out a way to make it work. That’s all we can do. Love you.
Stream JUSTEND on all platforms and follow him for updates on Audio Basquiat.