"I'm Not in Texas, for Real!": J. Saenz Brings Hip-Hop Heat to The Pub
By Manny Melendez
“Can I get a yo?!”
It’s been a minute since The Pub has had rap on its stage. Texas-based J. Saenz (pronounced “signs”) changed all that Saturday, March 9, thanks to Casey Scroggins. After finding him via TikTok, Casey contacted J. Saenz via email and Instagram. J. Saenz, a savvy artist, knows that once the algorithm is figured out, he can achieve “organic growth” on the platform and increase his exposure to people worldwide, even up here in the so-called Last Frontier. From there, Casey took care of everything, and thank goodness, because J. Saenz really was a breath of fresh air for the much-loved venue more known for its affection for country and rock.
Self-described as a “blend of Russ, J. Cole, and Mac Miller,” J. Saenz began rapping, believe it or not, as an experiment. While playing college baseball in West Texas, J. Saenz started making diss raps with his friends. Although it was all in good fun, it didn’t take long for his buddies to realize his raps were more than just comedic fun— they had more of a natural flow, something worth pursuing. By 2019, J. Saenz had dropped his first release, I.D., and his journey as an artist began.
Initially, he used music to “speak on things that I [didn’t] usually speak to people about,” a way to resonate with his audience by using his lyrics as a kind of natural therapy for himself. Still, it didn’t take long for him to move on from treating his lyrics and music in this manner to “perfecting [his] craft” while having fun with how his sound kept evolving. Of course, as J. Saenz noted during my pre-show interview with him, “[It] feels great to just write,” regardless of what the lyrics may (or may not) mean to him or the audience. J. Saenz’s influences also help clarify his own lyrical content in that they push him to be specific and authentic and not fall back on expected hip-hop cliches like “violence, or drugs, and sex.”
Because J. Saenz understands that “inspiration is random,” he focuses on his instincts and his admitted pickiness regarding the beats and the lyrics that eventually form one of his songs. This looseness that mixes with his intense focus also informs his live performances, where “crowd interactions” are crucial. He further notes how long sets can “quickly become background music if [performers] are not engaging with people.”
Not so with his high-energy show at The Pub! Aside from Pollock-esque paint streaks on his sweater (which got at least one compliment from a new fan by the night's end), J. Saenz was dressed in all white, right down to his Nikes. He started his (approximately) forty-minute set around 11:10 pm, after openers Cariño, Zane Penny, and Husse, a tight-knit group of performers from Anchorage who had a blast supporting each other and the headliner.
J. Saenz, an emphatic and dynamic performer, called everyone to the front of the stage as he fed as much from his audience as his audience fed from him. Since audience participation is vital for him, he did not hesitate to include the audience in his show with the occasional snap of the fingers or hand waving or the more regular callouts and callbacks, a way for them to feel “seen” and to join his energy. For his opener, he asked the audience to close their eyes and talk them through mindfulness with a “deep breath in, deep breath out.” Most excitingly, J. Saenz often asked the audience to assist with the hooks throughout the show, most winningly on “Chaining Day,” one of the final songs on the setlist. He was genuinely curious about Fairbanks, a place that was clearly fresh and exciting, and he was excited about how different it was from his Texas.
“Past Life,” his newest drop, exemplifies everything that makes J. Saenz a fun and surprisingly breezy catch for those looking for more underground hip-hop and rap artists. His song for “pineapple pizza lovers” (aptly titled “Pineapple Pizza”) was maybe my favorite— a great hook, sweet and earnest lyrics, and an authentically happy vibe. He started his show with melodic rap and then moved to “just straight rap” with no hooks or melodies. His vocal dexterity as the show progressed displayed an admirable nuance, too— his modulation of rhythms with the shifting cadence of his voice as the tones and textures of the beats and samples vibed in and out of each other. “Apple Pie,” a similarly food-oriented song, had my favorite beat (to my ears, part of it sounded like it had been sampled from someone using glass jugs as percussion!), and it came with a delicious hook. To me, a Caribbean-born, it almost seemed as if every one of his songs came with its own tropical fragrance, each alternatively suitable for a late-night chill-out lounge out on Miami Beach or the sugar-drenched breezes of the Bahamas. That, of course, could just be me, but all the same, I also appreciated the all-too-brief Spanish verse in “I Fear God,” as well as its decidedly nastier, grittier soundscape, its chorus lingering long after he moved on to other tracks.
J. Saenz ended the show with a group selfie (provided for this review by J. Saenz himself!), once more bringing his audience to the forefront of the show. His humility and easygoing nature as a performer will only get him more successes and joys in the future— a future, hopefully, that will include Fairbanks again.
Be on the lookout for him throughout 2024, as he hopes to bring “more shows” and “dope features [he hasn’t] released yet” and, more importantly, “to build that connection” with his fans and music listeners all over the world, “an actual energy transfer.”
