Danny Matos, the NYC based MC drops the visuals for the first 2 tracks off his 2nd album, The Tarmac. The video features “I Fought The Devil” and “Ota Benga.” “I Fought The Devil” is a song about battling your inner demons, while “Ota Benga,” named after a pygmy man from Africa placed in The Bronx Zoo in 1906 for display. Ota eventually committed suicide. Video directed by D. Ebanks. Here are a few words from Danny Matos below:
“I hope you know trying is success. I hope you know there are many outwardly “successful” people that feel just as unsuccessful as you do. I hope you know that it’s actually possible to be living the life of your dreams, but because it doesn’t look like someone else’s, or because it doesn’t look like you perhaps think it should, it’s so easy to convince yourself that you’re a failure. I hope you know humanity still needs dreamers. And passion still matters. I hope you know second chances aren’t given. I hope you know they’re taken. I hope when you think something’s gotta give, you can give something to yourself. I hope you can honor your darkness and know how rare it is to speak freely on how suffocating it can be. I hope when you feel like what’s the point, you can find solace in the ability to feel at all. I hope you can find the courage to stop answering those who only reach out to make sure you’re still stuck. Like them. Although I hope you don’t feel stuck. I hope you know sometimes doing nothing is being, and being is still doing. Because there’s this idea that hustle beats talent when talent don’t hustle, but truthfully, sometimes shit just don’t go how you planned no matter how talented you are and no matter how much you hustle. Sometimes you’re just tired. Exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. Lonely. Burdened. Isolated. Consumed by your past. Consumed by the fact that your consumed by your past. Angry. Terrified. Angry that you’re terrified. Misunderstood. Invalidated. Unsupported. And sometimes you don’t need anyone to point it out. You point it out to yourself every night when you can’t sleep. When you stare at your walls. When you wish there was a mysterious closet you could walk into and on the other side have an unknown world waiting for you. When you hide behind the walls you’ve been for yourself for yourself and other people. You feel this when you wonder if things are ever going to get better. When you find it hard to see the future. Or anything at all for that matter. When all you want to do is feel set. Fuck that. When all you want is a reset. But I hope you know there’s a whole other side to how you’re feeling. I hope you know that doesn’t negate how you’re feeling. It’s just a matter of faith. Sort of like that belief, on your most heart aching days, that there’s got to be someone like you waiting to handle your heart like you deserve. I hope you know timing is everything, but you can’t set alarms for it. I hope you know the right out comes come out when the right amount of in went in. I hope you can fire any mentor who feels their limiting advice frees you from their mistakes. Make your own. I hope you have the courage to walk away. And to walk away from yourself when you’re not that nice to yourself. You may not see the blind spots in your mirror. That’s why they’re blind spots. But I hope you can trust that they’re there. I hope you can, at the very least, accept that there’s some greatness there. I hope you can know that what you see isn’t all there is to be seen. I hope you can know talent without self-belief is an un-cashed blank check, and if that ain’t power, I don’t know what is.
And I hope you know how hard it was for me to even write this. How I’ve been told people don’t have the attention span anymore for human connection. I hope you know how long I’ve waited to even share the beginning of my story. I hope you know I care even though we don’t “know” each other. But I hope you found yourself in this.
A sincere RIP for Ota Benga, a pygmy man and human being who was housed in the Bronx Zoo to then only end up taking his own life.
A sincere RIP for Kalief Browder, a 22 year old man, who ended his own life after battling the internal trauma he faced while being detained.
A sincere RIP to the veterans, children, teenagers, mothers, teachers, fathers, professionals, athletes, and every single subculture of people who find it unbearable to go on.
There is love, light, and peace in understanding, and I promise you, there is help and understanding out there for each and everyone one of us.”
– Danny Matos
Listen to The Tarmac on Soundcloud here, and you can also catch it on iTunes, Spotify, and Google Play Music