D.I.Y. ‘til I D.I.E.: How Emmitt James makes Grassroots Art Grown and Sexy 

Milwaukee is a city that many residents complain is creatively slept on. In the midst of that slumber, artists like Emmitt James emerge to wake up the scene like a tall glass of locally produced cold brew. Mixing the grassroots with the gargantuan, James is showing what it means for an independent artist to bet on themselves, and it looks like he’s having so much fun while he’s at it. 

For three consecutive summers, James has put together a big outdoor concert dubbed the Big Band BBQ. A free concert that satiates the crowd with catered barbecue, James tops the night off by performing a set of his music featuring a band of live instruments with well over a dozen different pieces: 13 pieces the first year, 22 pieces the second year, and 25 pieces this most recent year. Though James admits this 25-piece band got a bit ambitious, and he may draw it back in future years.

The show is made possible by local sponsors and merch sales. Proceeds from the show go to an organization of his choosing for that year, such as the Milwaukee Public Schools Foundation or Year of Move Milwaukee, a club started as a hip-hop chess club that has now grown into an organization that offers artist development and trades demonstrations to spark the intrepid interests of local young people.

“I don’t want to just take people’s money,” said James. “The band is like the sexy part. A big part of it is not just the music but raising money and highlighting a new organization that maybe people didn’t know about.”

It makes sense that this is where James’ mission would first focus. This focus on highlighting a local nonprofit is not only indicative of James’ purpose as an artist, but it is also a way for James to pour back into the cups that once poured into him. It is in an MPS school where he first began recording and creating the art that would someday help pay his rent.

D.I.Y. is the DNA: How James’ craft was born.

“I’ve been making music since I came out my mama’s coochie,” laughed James. “No, I’m just playing. I started in high school. I went to [Ronald] Reagan High School. Our music teachers saw my homies and I were taking a liking to recording so they made a makeshift studio for us and then we started recording ourselves on an older program called Mixcraft. We knew the basics of how to record ourselves but we ain’t really know.”

Whether he realized it or not, from the beginning, James’ art has had D.I.Y. philosophy embedded in its DNA. 

In artist terminology, D.I.Y. refers to an act that takes a more grassroots approach to building shows, sets, and events. D.I.Y. artists learn how to handle a multitude of skills beyond their primary craft—from printing, to marketing, to set design—in order to bring their vision to life. Less focused on having the glossiest new set pieces and more focused on delivering an experience that truly feeds the audience’s sense of curiosity, wonder, and whimsy, D.I.Y. artists move with an air of punk rock, regardless of their genre.

James is no exception to this, though his punk rock may come with a bit more concert cellist than most.

When asked what draws him to D.I.Y, his answer was very brief.

“A lack of resources,” laughed James again. “Lack of funds; just having to do stuff myself.”

In addition to acquiring resources, earning respect came with the tide, but James’ talent was up to the act.

“For example,” mused James, “when I first moved to LA, I had a showcase. It had this C-list celebrity judge. I was supposed to sell tickets—it was like a pay-to-play—I had to sell 20 tickets. I only sold like 15 of em. So they cut my set time by five minutes.”

This is a story that is all too familiar for up-and-coming artists. In order to safely hedge their bet on this unproven talent, some venues may ask or even require that performing acts wrangle in a number of patrons in order to earn their own spot on the set list. In this case, James and the gang came up short.

“We didn’t make it to the second round; the second round was called the ‘Encore round,’ but we were the only act that got an encore chant from the crowd. I was just like, you know what, if I’m going to lose money on shows, I’m just gonna throw them myself.”

What may have seemed like failure to some was a pivotal moment in James’ understanding of the need to advocate and do-for-self in the chaotic landscape of independent artistry.

“From that moment, that’s when I started throwing my own shows: backyard shows; at homies’ cribs. It’s from either trying something I didn’t like or needing to perform but not getting opportunities; then let me create them for myself. So that’s where that spirit comes from.”

When asked whether he feels increasing access to recording technology has helped or hurt the craft, he believes it helps.

“You don’t have to go to a music studio now,” said James. “You can record with the homies and get some high-quality out of the recording. Like a lot of people don’t know, for a while in LA I was recording in my apartment. But you don’t know that; it’s still high quality. I don’t mix or anything, I would record, and I would send it off to homies, and they would polish it.”

Here, James showcases another key skill of any successful D.I.Y. artist: knowing which skills to outsource for the sake of efficiency and quality. 

Doing what you have to ’til you can do what you want to: How James stepped the stones.

James’ journey from classroom to creator was far from linear. After graduating high school, he received a BA in Arts Management from University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point before moving to LA to set up camp.

“I moved to LA in 2015,” continued James. “I used school as a foot to get there. I needed to finish up my BA in Arts Management. Part of the curriculum was working outside the state. I found a fashion internship in LA, did that about four or five months, and that’s how I completed my degree. I walked [graduation] December 2014 so that when I finished I wouldn’t have to move back to Wisconsin, I could just stay out there. So that’s what I did; after school was over, I just stayed out there for eight years.”

For many aspiring artists, moving to LA is a sort of rite of passage; a benchmark of artistic endeavor that signals confidence in your art and an ambition to share it with the world. 

James’ experience in the Golden State may be one that anchors more expectations in reality than sells one-way tickets to LAX.

“It was not exciting in the beginning,” said James. “I moved there with 20 bucks and my homie from New York; two weeks before I left, he was like, “What if I just go with you?” He had $1000 for the first week and paid for our living situation and I told him once my student loans and grants come through I’m gonna pay for our first months rent and deposit. So that’s what I did. The first year was tough.”

Once in LA, James had to find a way to pay his bills and build his brand at the same time. 

“I started to meet my tribe,” said James, “like-minded people. We started throwing backyard gigs; started to catch my rhythm a little bit. What really helped me is I got this job at Golden Voice.”

Golden Voice is a prestige concert and music festival promoter in Los Angeles. They organize massively popular festivals such as Coachella and Tyler, the Creator’s Camp Flog Gnaw. 

“I got a job at their office making coffee,” reminisced James. “The first month-and-a-half nobody knew I made music, because I wanted it to come up organically.”

Though James is a showman by nature, he didn’t throw himself at the mercy of his colleagues immediately. He allowed the conversation to come up naturally, rather than shamelessly whore his artistry out to his co-workers. However, in a space occupied by artists and creatives, for one reason or another, one finds it impossible to hide their own artistic inclinations for long. 

“Eventually, they asked me what I had going on for the weekend. I would tell them I have a show. I remember the first time I said that, somebody asked me if I made music and I said “yeah,” and then like 12 of them from the office came to this backyard show.”

This was just a first step for James. This first show did more than introduce his artistry to his co-workers; it also opened new doors.

“From there, the hip hop booker, we became cool, and he helped me open up for Pharcyde a couple of times; he helped me open up for Duckwrth. All my main, big artists I opened up for were because of him and my connections with that job.”

James’ journey as an artist did not resemble the made-for-Hollywood formula many young artists have been fed. He wasn’t just hanging around a record label and happened upon a critical board member. It still took him years to be able to make art in any sort of gainful sense.

“I didn’t start doing music full-time until the end of 2020,” continued James. “When I was out here, I was doing school and I was barista-ing. I was doing shows but it wasn’t my main income. Dec 11, 2020 is my last day as a barista and that is when I was [a full-time artist] up until February of this year.”

James remembers one of the main struggles of building that early base in LA being the sheer scale of the city and how difficult it was to carve out a space in the spotlight for himself.

“It’s just a huge city,” said James. “When I come back to Milwaukee, because I do so much stuff and I’m active, in some seasons there’s a lot of spotlight on me, but that’s because it’s a smaller city. In LA, there’s a bunch of people trying to do the same thing you’re doing, so it’s harder to stand out there. So you gotta be consistent in what you’re doing.”

James recognizes the beauty in being part of a tight-knit scene and how mutual cooperation can make the dream happen.

“I worked at a really cool coffee shop in a dope neighborhood where filmmakers worked. My job was very supportive of me, so if I had a show they would let me put up flyers; I would use the coffee cup sleeves to promote the show. They were just really supportive so I kind of built off the customer base of the shop.”

Here, James highlights an element of grassroots artistry that can be the absolute difference in making the dream work: teamwork. By utilizing resources that were already available to him, James was able to keep his costs low as well as tap into a native fan base here at this coffee shop. 

James spent eight years building this base, but eventually he decided to come back home. When asked why he made this decision, his answer here was also direct:

“Rent is $13,” said James. “I realized either I was going to have to get a job or I gotta move somewhere that’s cheaper. I moved back New Year’s Eve, Dec 31, 2022.”

Living where it’s cheaper, however, is no match for living with a hole in your pocket, James found.

“What I’ve discovered is if you’re not disciplined with your finances, it doesn’t matter where you live, you will be struggling,” laughed James. “So even though it was cheaper to live here, I was not disciplined. I should have been stacking, but I also wasn’t making enough to stack.”

Though James still maintained full focus on his artwork, he knew some important business decisions had to be made if he hoped to keep his dream afloat.

“At the top of this year, I was like “I gotta go get a job.” I kept delaying it until I couldn’t delay it any more, so in February, March I got back into the barista game.”

James is pragmatic about this hybrid of artist and working man.

“I still get to do the stuff I wanna do,” said James, “ [but] I have a little less control of my schedule.” 

Along the way, though, James was picking up tools that he could later equip as he continued to build his artistic career. His journey has ingrained a resourcefulness that helps stabilize his artistry, such as fundraising experience from his time pursuing his arts management degree and the ability to tap into his network of talented peers.

“Being resourceful with what you have,” said James. “At this level, there’s still some of your friends who will do things for you for cheap or for free and I’ve taken that for granted.”

James is no stranger to pulling a rabbit out of a hat, even when he hardly had a hat to begin with.

This is especially apparent in the amazing feat he pulls off by hosting the Big Band BBQ, which, again, completed its third showcase this past summer. Though James is very familiar with small, intimate, limited-capacity shows, the BBBBQ is a chance for James to put his on a much larger stage.

However, this most recent summer, they ran into a real budget crunch the morning of the BBQ.

“The day of the show, I needed four grand and I don’t know how I’m gonna get it,” James set the scene. “At the last minute, we got a $1500 sponsor, then we made like 2, 3 grand in merch, and I was able to cover everything. This year was the first year that I was in the hole a little bit.”

As James finds his proper scale for the show, it has grown in size. Though many artists have the idea that “bigger is always better,” –especially when trying to stand out from the crowd– James understands the reality of constantly scaling up.

“The first year was nine grand, the second year was 15 and then the third year was a little over 20. I’m getting a little ambitious; it keeps going up and I’m like alright I gotta chill. But every year it figures itself out.

Through the magic of crowdsourcing, hustle and sometimes what appears to be some actual magic, James has been able to build his career from the makeshift recording studio of Ronald Reagan High School to the brilliant stage of the Big Band BBQ.

Whether it was whipping coffees and flyers to vegan hipsters on the West Coast or serenading a crowd of Midwesterners at a craft brewery in the Cream City, Emmitt James makes sure he keeps a focus on making the experience authentic and unique.

“I just create whatever I wanna create,” affirmed James. “I talk about my real life. That’s why a lot of the topics be about everyday stuff: food, dental care, love. It’s like whatever I’m experiencing at that time. That’s why I don’t talk about bitches and hoes, cause I don’t got none.”

James holds a belief matured by experience that artists should take responsibility for their dreams and learn to work with what they have until they have more.

“Stop letting a lack of money stop you from doing stuff,” said James. “If I can do it when the budget is $500 then I can do it when the budget is 10 grand.”