As he gets ready to release his new album Ponzu, the rapper-producer takes us on a tour of his genre-blending world, and explains how syneasthesia influenced the new record
I once watched Scottish rapper-producer Tzusan attempt to cure a bad case of hiccups by tai-chi breathing in the corner of a nightclub smoking area. A perplexed security guard watched out of the corner of his eye, clearly unsure of what to make of the scene. To the initiated, however, this is exactly the kind of behaviour you’d expect from an artist that raps about marinating collapsed lungs in teriyaki sauce – or names himself Tzusan (pronounced: Susan), for that matter. Packaging high-brow concepts in lo-fi production, the Edinburgh-born, Brighton-based rapper’s music has long bordered on avant-garde, but upcoming album Ponzu pushes the boundaries further than ever before.
Tzusan’s lyrics here arrive in a series of softly-spoken, film noir-esque snapshots: “Hand out tryna flag a taxi, domingo sings Pagliacci”; “Few succeeded, most tried and failed, I told ‘em hold on like a harpoonist grappling a pilot whale”. It’s an approach that endlessly captivates me, speaking to an almost synesthetic relationship to the sounds that he produces. “People often think of albums as narratives, but I think of this one more like a video game map,” Tzusan explains when we hop on a call. “It’s inviting you to play some kind of fictional avatar version of myself, where each track is a different level within one big GTA-like city”.
For Tzusan, this all started in the city of Edinburgh – hardly a hip-hop hotspot. Relative to the recent success of Irish rappers Kneecap, or the surprisingly robust Welsh-language rap scene, Scotland has failed to produce a flagship hip-hop artist. Still, it’s easy to see how this might have contributed to Tzusan’s off-the-wall approach to the genre. It’s a talent that has been forged in opposition, from looking inwards rather than outwards, and giving rise to the unlikely collisions of hyperpop, Japanese city pop and UK hip-hop on the latest project. His avant-garde approach to songwriting, however? No amount of isolation can explain that.
Below, Tzusan breaks down his one-of-a-kind relationship with music, the origins of Ponzu, and the mystery of Scotland’s unrealised rap potential.
You mentioned this project was born while watching snow fall back in Edinburgh?
Tzusan: That’s the first distant shimmerings of what this album would be. I used to live in a little basement flat, it was pretty run down but it had its own little back garden with a wee shed in it. That shed is where a lot of the early Skoop [Records] stuff got made, like going way back to 2017. It would have been after the first Tzusan EP with CRPNTR. I initially thought of Ponzu as a sequel to that, but then it just slowly developed, snowballed, exploded, imploded, and went back to the drawing board millions of times for however many years it took me to make this.
And why did it take so many years?
Tzusan: In terms of solo music, I wasn’t in a mad rush to do another big project after WSPSNSYRP. It’s been good to take a bit of time and do the projects with Shogun and shit like that, flex a different muscle. I’ve spent the last couple of years playing with [this project] musically and hopefully it will fuck with some people. I want the old Tzusan listeners to be a wee bit confused. Like, ‘Whoa, this is a bit mad.’ You know?
Speaking of WSPSNSYRP, ponzu (the ingredient) is a little more tart than syrup. Do you think there’s a parallel between the tastes and the sounds we’re hearing here?
Tzusan: Yeah, I’d say so. In terms of the worldbuilding analogy, WSPSNSYRP is Red Dead Redemption, and Ponzu is Skyrim, mixed with a bit of Cyberpunk 2077. When making WSPSNSYRP, I was very aware that it was a summer project.
Do the songs conjure up visuals for you, then?
Tzusan: When I’ve done it right.
Is that how you know you’ve done it right?
Tsuzan: Yeah, but it might be a different emotional state in different people. We all might be looking at the same picture of someone mopping up the floor of an ice cream parlour waiting for everyone to leave, but different people would have a slightly different emotional response to that image.
Is that image of an ice cream parlour a specific track on the project?
Tzusan: It would be “Veins” – that’s an ‘ice cream parlour about to close-slash-get out my fucking ice cream shop’ type beat.
So, what is “Lemon Floor Gel”, then?
Tzusan: I was hoping you wouldn’t say that one! “Lemon Floor Gel” is literally just my fucking absolute mental breakdown in audio form, possibly the lowest moment of my life. If it was a setting, it would be a walk in fridge.
Was that where you had the breakdown?
Tzusan: This was a very long breakdown in a lot of places… But, yeah, that’s a walk-in fridge and you’re crying. The orders are still coming in and the head chef’s shouting at you, but you just can't feel it anymore.
Irish people support their own art scene on a grassroots level – it just isn’t the case in Scotland. Maybe that has something to do with independence… – Tzusan
What about “Snow Blind”?
Tzusan: “Snow Blind” is a BP garage in Tollcross. It’s about four in the morning. The eccies [pills] are wearing off and you’re far too young to be taking eccies in the first place. You’re with your pals because you can’t go home, and you’re just sitting about outside the gas station freestyling.
The beat to that one sounds like beatboxing, too, right?
Tzusan: Yeah, exactly, it’s part of the scene. Your pal’s beatboxing and you’re having a wee freestyle. That was the image of the track, and that needed to be reflected in the beat.
It’s also a pretty big mystery to me why Scottish hip-hop has never quite popped off like Irish and Welsh rap has. I met a guy in a DIY skatepark in Glasgow last month who was obsessed with [Irish rap group] Kneecap, but struggled to name a Scottish rapper.
Tzusan: That’s it in a nutshell, bro. I’ve said it to Irish heads and Scottish heads, the difference is [Irish people] support their own art scene on a grassroots level. They go out to events, they champion their own musicians – it just isn't the case in Scotland. There’s people whose job it is to get council funding or whatever, but the actual issue really is everyday people who refuse to engage in not just music and rap in particular, but art in general – anything coming out of Scotland. I've had this conversation a bunch of times with different people, and the main difference that strikes me is that Ireland pushes its own music scene. Maybe that has something to do with independence…
Tzusan’s latest album, Ponzu, releases February 5. Tzusan will also be hosting a launch party at Edinburgh’s Leith Cricket Club, Friday March 7, featuring support from Verbz & Mr Slipz, 2T, Philomenah, Form.696 DJs and more.