Rodney Chrome Is the Black Queer Artist Carving His Own Path Forward [Q&A]

When it comes to Ones To Watch, itâs within your best interest to bookmark this one before the world (or at the very least, Beyoncé) gets a hold of him.
From intricate choreography to immaculate visuals, Rodney Chrome embodies what it means to be an artist in the most literal context. As a triple threat visionary who would rather create his own lane than bore you with how itâs been done, there arenât many up-and-coming artists with this level of hunger, and it shows.
Rodney Chromeâs self-assuredness is palpable, built brick by brick as a black and queer artist too loud for his conservative town in Arkansas. His NYU commencement speech brought the entire world (and most notably, Taylor Swift) to tears not just because it explored the grit of his story, but because it was raw and honestâ like everything else he births into the world.
Chrome plays characters, decorates himself in pristine performance, but never strays from being the embodiment of his truth. We sat down with the artist to explore where his bite comes from, how artists like Frank Ocean have inspired him, and all the blackity black magic that is to come.
Ones To Watch: Congrats on NYU and your incredible commencement speech! Out here bringing Miss Taylor swift to tears. Walk me through that moment, and what it felt like.
Rodney: Iâm from a super small town in Arkansas and didnât have representation growing up, so when my department at NYU pitched me for the student speech at the Yankee Stadium of course Iâm like, Iâll do my best and try to write something, but I didnât realize what that actually meant for myself. Iâm writing it and we go through a few rounds of talking to the NYU faculty, and eventually, they choose me. I didnât know how much of a weight it held at the whole event itself but thankfully, God chose my words to speak poetically and touch Taylor as well. It was a blessing. My mom was telling me how she was crying every time I said something, and honestly, to speak personally, it even kind of helped me and my dadâs relationship with some of the things I said, so that was beautiful.
It was so powerful because you spoke your truth, and many people across the internet felt so seen by it. Can you name any influences that helped you feel seen?
I will always give my props to Frank Ocean. My favorite line from him is âYou donât know how little you matter until youâre all alone in the middle of Arkansas.â When youâre from Arkansas, you understand how much that really means. Him saying that really made me see that you can be a queer person of color and make it. And even going into now, Lil Nas X and Saucy Santana, I have to give credit to them for making these lanes.
Iâm sure growing up in a town that didnât nurture your queer or artistic identity really diluted you. On the contrary, were there parts of your upbringing that you still carry with you?
Yeah! Southern hospitality. Having southern charm, knowing how to work a room. I feel like whenever I meet someone from the south itâs very identifiable. My mom has also been such a huge influence with making sure that Iâm respectful and remembering that whatever purpose God put you on this earth for, you make sure you go after it.
Your confidence is very palpable, you just know youâre the moment. How was that nurtured?
Growing up in a conservative town, you have to find your own way of coming up. I grew up heavily into football and basketball so within those sports, within the Black community, and being in the south, you donât have too much visibility when it comes to being queer, so I had to create that image for myself. Of course, I had a little backlash, people who didnât support me, but I realized, with music specifically, that I have to do the same thing that Frank did for me. Thatâs why I go so hard.
Do you ever feel exhausted by having to prove yourself? Whatâs rest like for you?
I had never done therapy and during the pandemic, there was a point where I just could not create. I was back home in Arkansas and my mental stability was not where I needed it to be. Once I got into therapy they were like âYouâre burnt out.â Not even physically, I was so mentally taxed with like âI gotta make it, I gotta represent for the people like me.â And with the standard of black queer art, if you donât come in at a certain level, they wonât take you seriously. I know that I have to put in a lot more effort with making sure people see me, but Iâm letting myself have moments of like âIâm not creating right now and thatâs okayâ instead of forcing it. Iâm battling rest, Iâm not the best with it, but weâre a work in progress.
Talk to us about Ghetto Pop Star.
So my first EP Queer Pressure was me exposing my upbringing, and after that, I took some time to think about what I wanted next. Ghetto Pop Star was just like, okay I want that top spot. I grew up off of Missy and Busta Rhymes and with them, thereâs an identifiable image, and thatâs what I want to create for myself. You get Rodney Chrome and thereâs nobody else really in this lane thatâs like him, but thereâs still that classic pop choreography aspect. I started off making these songs with my friends in my dorm room in NYU, and I decided I wanted to roll them out in a unique way, so weâre splitting it up into four volumes, two songs each with their own visuals.
Your music videos genuinely are art pieces. How do you move so fluidly through all of your identities?
As confident as I do come off, I struggle sometimes with like âHow do I look to other people?â or âAm I living up to the expectation of my art?â I think thatâs something a lot of artists face. I hold myself to a high standard, I want to be on Beyonceâs level someday. I grew up off of her CDs and DVDs. Life Is But A Dream, I watched back to back to back, and thatâs how I learned that I wanted to be a performer. She and my mom taught me that no matter what, you gotta walk into a room and act like you own it.
We canât wait to see you up there. Lastly, who are your ones to watch?
Ah, I could give you a whole list! Dre Baby, Kyle Lux. Doechii is buzzing.