Harry Edohoukwa Climbs His Mountain

First time I witnessed Harry Edohoukwa perform – at a February 2019 showcase put on by KUTX hip-hop culturists The Breaks – disbelief washed over me. Who that commands such stage presence and original vocal delivery isn’t already a marquee name?

Harry Edohoukwa (Photo by Wane Does)

The Dallas native’s performances drew me in, but the songs, owing almost as much to world music as they do rap, pulled me deeper. Confessional singles detailing stormy romantic clashes and raging inner battles pulse an emotional complexity that keeps you wanting more. All those elements come into greater focus with his debut full-length Fire on the Mountain, emerging with an album release show on Saturday, 9pm-midnight, at Cloud Tree Studios.

Austin Chronicle: What does the mountain symbolize to you?

Harry Edohoukwa: A mountain represents your internal uphill in getting to where you want. You gotta climb though your past and through your present bullshit. Speaking for me, I had a lot of past shit to overcome. Then I think about how after you get past all that. At the top of the mountain, there’s still a fire… like, goddamnit.

If you look at it correctly, which I have to remind myself to do, that’s beautiful. There’s not a flowerbed at the top. It’s a forever tussle that keeps the progression of life going.

AC: “Road to Damascus” and “Did You Not Pray” hold religious connotations. What are the relevance of those titles to you?

HE: I use “Road to Damascus” as my story of personal change. A lot of people – especially women – would say I’m an asshole or I’m very selfish, but that song, which is last on the full-length, shows that through all this I have changed. I’m noticing that I am better, but the war’s not over and I’m still on that road.

The Bible says “Be doers of the word, and not hearers.” I used to hear things and think, “Oh, it would be a good idea not to be this way,” then I’d do it anyway. Now, I’m actually thinking before doing. Like, if I have a show, I won’t get plastered the night before. I’ll get plastered the night before the night before – so I’m good for the show.

AC: Speaking of being “good for the show,” you bring a lot of confidence and intensity to the stage. What’s going through your mind when you’re about to perform?

HE: I have a chip on my shoulder. I like it when something goes wrong or pisses me off, because it adds a little fire. I’ll bottle up whatever it was and use that moment for release. Another thing that gets me going is people underestimating me, like I’m about to show these motherfuckers. So I guess the answer is: anger.

AC: On “Mayday,” you’re repeating, “Breathe in and find my way back,” which feels very in-your-head. Do you identify that as a reoccurring theme in your music?

HE: Especially for this project, it’s the whole theme. Sometimes, I’ve felt like I’d do things that were out of my control, so I’d ask myself, “Why am I this way? What’s going on inside of me? What’s happened in my childhood? What are my insecurities and fears that are making me manifest in this way I don’t always like?” It’s really just me breaking myself down on wax.

AC: This is the first long-form work listeners will hear from you. What does that format allow you as an artist?

HE: This is my first page. All the singles I’ve been releasing have just been showing people I can make music and these are my ideas. Now, I’m giving listeners a part of me, how I think and what I think about myself – showing them what’s going on inside this guy you see onstage. It’s building that relationship for the next and the next and the next.