

JJ went to school in a nearby town called Shannon. The brothers met JJ, their touring DJ, around 2008. “Atlanta was ahead of my town in music,” Swae says. “We got into dancing.” In a video for their song “Put It in Rotation,” the three boys perform a choreographed routine on someone’s driveway, their Superman leaps and oversized jerseys clearly inspired by Soulja Boy and the snap music that had recently dominated the region’s ringtones. “It was the ‘Crank Dat’ era,” Jxmmi remembers. I was going crazy on the computers,” he says. “We had songs that were getting 3,000 views. Swae bought a video camera from a thrift store and learned to shoot and edit. Along with a third member, Lil Pantz, they recorded songs and released videos on YouTube. “We’re out of state, not thinking one-dimensional. Together, they started a group called Dem Outta St8 Boyz, a name that reflected their itinerant childhoods and boasted their knowledge of culture beyond Tupelo. I didn’t really understand what being famous was. “We were just the niggas that took interest in music. You got your dorks, your geeks, your smart kids. “You got your niggas selling drugs, fighting. They began to take music seriously as they entered high school. Keeping us in school, getting us to school,” Swae says. To support the family, their stepfather, who both boys call their dad, sold drugs. “That was the easiest place for us to get by,” Swae says. Their mother left the army and settled down in Tupelo, a small city about two hours south of Memphis, with a new partner, their stepfather, who had extended family in the area. When the boys were in middle school, they moved back to Mississippi. I asked him, ‘How do you make them beats?’” “This white dude came through, he was making beats,” he says. “But I might’ve just been fascinated because it was a house.” In Texas, at some point around his 10th birthday, Swae learned to produce music using Fruity Loops. The army took the family from California to Mississippi, Maryland, and then Texas, where they lived on a base in a duplex with a backyard. “When I was conscious about what was going on,” he says, “he wasn’t there.” Swae tells me that for a time, when he was very young, he knew his “real dad,” but Jxmmi doesn’t remember ever having a relationship with the man. Their mother was enlisted in the army and “worked on tanks,” according to Jxmmi. “We’re separate entities, but the big is when we come together.Jxmmi and Swae Lee were born in California, as Aaquil and Khalif Brown. “At the end of the day, we understand that we’re Rae Sremmurd,” Swae tells Apple Music. However, unlike Outkast, these solo sojourns were less a sign of a duo drifting apart than a process of shoring up individual strengths for the greater good. Outkast’s 2003 split-personality set Speakerboxx/The Love Below provided the blueprint for Rae Sremmurd’s ambitious 2018 triple-LP package, SR3MM, which supplemented the duo’s namesake record with individual full-album showcases for Slim ( Jxmtro) and Swae ( Swaecation). But in the ever-sharpening contrast between Slim’s rugged strip-club-prowling persona and Swae’s cosmic loverboy vibe, Rae Sremmurd recall another irreverent Southern rap duo.

Rae Sremmurd embraced their role as the eccentric, freaky-fashioned emissaries of feel-good hip-hop, and with their chart-topping 2016 smash, “Black Beatles,” the duo crafted an infectiously melodious trap anthem that invoked the Fab Four as a yardstick for their own world-domination dreams. the Mike WiLL Made-It imprint to which they signed). Atop a chiming Mike WiLL Made-It beat, the Tupelo-reared fraternal duo of Slim Jxmmi and Swae Lee let loose with an excitable, squealing flow that was as delightfully disorienting as their handle (a reverse spelling of EarDrummers, a.k.a. In a hip-hop landscape dominated by lo-fi mumble rappers and woozy Future-isms, Rae Sremmurd’s 2014 debut single, “No Flex Zone,” hit like the high beams of an 18-wheeler lighting up an interstate at night.
