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The toxicity of contemporary male R&B has been a talking point for nearly a decade, and Texas-bred R&B crooner Dende is ready to take action and bring “yearning” back to the forefront. 

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“I don’t feel like a lot of people yearn anymore,” he tells Billboard days after releasing his I Am, Because You Are… EP. “There’s a certain amount of emotion that R&B requires.” 

In other words, Dende is over the era of nonchalance. Born in Austin and raised in Katy, Texas, Dende has been a musician his entire life. From church choir stints to makeshift bedroom studios in college, the soulful multihyphenate has spent years honing his sound into its current amalgamation of passionate ad-libs, gospel chords, pop inclinations, and hip-hop cadences. 

Earlier this year (Feb. 12), Dende (born Jeremi Lewings) signed with Def Jam, marking an end to his time as an independent artist – an era that led him to close studio collaborator Billy Blunt and his CXR management team. Dende’s transition into the major label system came shortly after a viral live performance video of “Nightmares,” a track from his acclaimed 2023 ’95 Civic EP. With his face covered in bloody makeup to accentuate his particularly theatrical rendition of the song, that live performance video encapsulates everything Dende seeks to bring to contemporary R&B: From his quotidian fashion to his stage show, Dende is wholly unafraid to feel the full extent and breadth of his emotions in front of an audience — he isn’t too cool to be hurt or hopelessly in love. 

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With a smattering of singles and a handful of EPs dating back to 2018, Dende has slowly made a name for himself in R&B circles with his spunky, introspective tunes. His new I Am EP transports him to visual art, taking notes from Picasso and Basquiat in how they allowed their muses to speak through them and their work. Featuring collaborations with Luciia, Roy Woods and Kiilynn, Dende’s latest project is his strongest stab at world-building yet – from the scene-setting “The Louvre” –  to the heart-melting “Dance With Me.” 

Billboard spoke with April’s R&B Rookie of the Month about the evolution of his sound, the origins of his stage name, his all-time favorite ad-libs and his relationship with fashion.

What are your earliest music memories? 

I was really young when I started singing in church. My dad was a pastor, so I was in the choir. At one point, it was literally just me and my sister doing solos in the choir. I also played the drums for the church. 

I was also really into American Idol, which we used to watch as a family. In elementary school, we had a talent show and I sang “Flying Without Wings” because Ruben Studdard sang it. And my teacher cried. [Laughs.]

Do you hear the music that you grew up with in the music that you make today? 

In unconventional ways, yes. Obviously, I don’t make gospel music, but on my last project, I had a more gospel-leaning song with a choir. And the fact that we use live instrumentation; my producer, Billy Blunt, is a heavy church baby too. That’s where he gets all his chords and progressions from. 

What’s the first song you remember being stuck in your head? 

“Nobody’s Supposed to Be Here” by Deborah Cox. I used to scream that song in the car. 

Do you remember when you wrote your first song? What was it? 

The first real song that I wrote was probably in my freshman year; I wrote it in a practice room. My cousin had given me an old microphone, and I put a sock over it, played the piano and recorded it on my laptop speaker. I don’t remember exactly what the song was called, but I know it sucked! [Laughs.] I made very bad music for a very long time. I was decent enough on instruments to put stuff together, but the songs themselves were bad. 

What were you writing about back then? 

Being a sad boy, as I tend to do. I still do that to this day. 

When did you decide that you wanted to pursue music professionally? 

Probably my sophomore year of college when I was at Clark [Atlanta University]. That was my first year living off campus. I had an apartment with my sister, and people would come over to record. People were paying me for studio time [and] I didn’t know what I was doing! Around then, I stopped going to class [because] I just wanted to do music. I was entering different contests in Atlanta [like Mic Check]; even though it was mostly rappers, I would go up there and sneak some singing in.  

Why did you decide to use a stage name and how did you land on Dende? 

I’ve always had nicknames. When I was younger, people called me “Jerm” and that [ended up being] my first artist name. I didn’t really like that, and no one really calls me by my actual name, so I got the name Dende because I’m a heavy anime nerd. For people that don’t know, Dende is from Dragon Ball Z, and I have him tatted on my forearm. [In the show], Dende cannot fight, but without him, the dragon balls don’t exist, so without him, a lot of people don’t get their wishes. I liked that because he’s a side character, but he’s really important to the plot. 

How would you describe the Dende sound? How has it evolved over the years? 

Poppy R&B with a little bit of hip-hop and gospel chords. At first, it was just straight-up piano and terrible drums, then it became straight up electronic drums and beats and rapping – I wasn’t singing at all. [After that], I transitioned into doing half-singing and half-rapping, then I moved more into the R&B space. 

What’s your favorite part of the music making process? Is there any part that you find more annoying or draining than others? 

I love writing. Post-production is probably my favorite part, because we can add cool stuff. A lot of my songs translate well to live sets, because there’s lots of hits and live instruments. We get to be a little bit more creative with how we structure the song – outside of lyrics – at that point. I don’t find mixing fun. I used to mix all my stuff, but I don’t do that anymore. It’s annoying because it’s a tedious process. 

Talk to me about your indie journey. Why did you end up signing to Def Jam? 

When I was independent, I was doing everything by myself – mixing, mastering, recording, producing. Then I got [in touch with] Billy Blunt [in 2021] and he started producing for me. CXR, my management team, came [into the picture] right after the pandemic. CXR is my management, but we function as a label. So going from that to the indie label space and the signing with Def Jam [in early 2025] wasn’t that crazy of a transition for us because we had been working together as a label and team for such a long time. I don’t think much is different other than having other people around us that can help ensure our vision comes to life. 

Why did you decide to go with CXR on the management side? 

To keep up with the momentum that I had gained virtually on my own during the pandemic, I was looking for management. It was between [CXR] and [another person] that’s in Houston. I went with [CXR] because they fit me more. With them, I get a whole team. We have marketing, A&R, day-to-day managers, social media managers – it’s a whole machine. I don’t even think I was ready for that yet, but it definitely helped propel me to another level. 

What inspired the new EP? When did you start and finish recording? 

[I was inspired by] things that I was feeling while going through life, which is pretty much what all my music is about. This [EP] is about falling in love and finding somebody that you feel fits you perfectly while also maybe not being the most financially sound [option at the time]. The purpose of this project is a starving artist falling in love and trying to navigate that. We started making this one before we even put out [‘95 Civic]. The last song we did was “The Louvre” with Luciia, which I cut last January. 

Was the plan always to make the track-list half solo songs and half duets? 

No, I was gonna do it all by myself, but it just ended up being that way. It became a more collaborative effort. I felt that some of the songs needed somebody else to strengthen them, so we did that. What I’m looking for [in a potential collaborator] is: Are you going to make the song better? My team is also looking for what’s beneficial about the feature outside of the music – I probably should care more about that, but I tend not to. I just want to make the best song possible. That’s why I have a team!

Who are some of your favorite visual artists? 

I like Basquiat a lot. He was an insane human being, and I really resonate with that. I’m not nearly as insane, but I like people who are doing what they want to do in the way they like to do it – because that wasn’t the norm.  

I also really like Dita Montana, an artist in Houston who actually did the cover art for my EP. I’ve been a fan of her for years. I literally had paintings that she painted in my house that I got five or six years ago. 

Why did “Need U Like” and “The Louvre” feel like the right songs to introduce this project? 

“The Louvre” fits the aesthetic of the project the most on the whole EP. This project is about physical art, and this song is saying that you deserve to be hung up on the wall at the most prestigious place in the world [for art] to live. 

“Need U Like,” is not only a hard song, but it also showcases my personality and how I approach relationships. I’m telling this person that I’m willing to do the impossible to make us happen. 

Do you plan to rap more on future projects? 

Maybe just a little bit. I enjoy singing more than rapping, I just like writing in the way that a rapper would. I wrote “Need U Like” as if I was rapping, and then I just sang it. 

What do you think you’re bringing to contemporary male R&B that’s unique? 

I wouldn’t say it’s unique to me, because it was in existence at one point, but I don’t think it exists as much anymore: yearning. I don’t feel like a lot of people yearn anymore. When I perform “Better Than Him” [from 2023’s Before We Crash EP], I literally will drop down on my knees.

Any plans to tour this EP? Is there any particular artist that you’d like to open for? 

We are planning to tour the project. We did a few listening parties, and I know I’m about to do a Houston show for the EP on May 2. After that, we’re gearing up for the next project.  

[Opening for] Tyler, the Creator is obviously the dream. I like Kenyon Dixon a whole lot; I would love to go on tour with him. Obviously, Lucky Daye, but I don’t know if he’s going on tour anytime soon. And Bieber!  

How do you incorporate fashion into your music and overall brand? 

I like to look good, and I like to make a statement with what I’m wearing. When I do live shows, I fit the aesthetic of the project with what I’m wearing. On the last project, I was the guy that shows up to your window with a boombox, so I’m wearing jeans, a fitted cap and a letterman jacket. Halfway through the set, I switch clothes and switch over to a [different project], and that dude looks like he got stood up at the altar. 

You’re in a moment of a lot of momentum right now. Does it ever get scary knowing what’s on the horizon for you? 

I wouldn’t say it gets scary. I think I get overwhelmed with how many things I need to do, but I’m not really scared. I keep God first, so whatever is for me is for me. 

If you could pick one producer to lock in with for an entire project, who would it be? 

D’Mile. 

What song has your favorite ad libs of all time? Pick one of your songs and then pick someone else’s song. 

For me, let’s say “Block Me.” For someone else, we’re going to go with Charlie Wilson’s “There Goes My Baby.”

It’s impossible to overstate just how influential Too Short is to hip-hop culture. He is the only rapper to have worked with all of The Notorious B.I.G., Jay-Z and 2Pac, and over the span of his career, he’s dropped dozens of acclaimed projects. He is former Vice President Kamala Harris’ favorite rapper, and perhaps the only MC to have released albums across five different decades, starting in the ’80s.

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While these are all groundbreaking accomplishments in their own right, the kicker is that the music is still awesome. On his latest project, Sir Too $hort Vol. 1 (Freaky Tales), his new records carry a youthful urgency, and include plenty of pockets where Short still raps like the rent is due.

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“And out of all rappers since the beginning of hip-hop/ Who got more platinum albums than me?” he raps on “Check the Stats.” “And don’t count greatest hits, let’s go/ Jay-Z, Eminem, 2Pac, OutKast, Nas, Drake, Lil Wayne, Kanye/ Who got more platinum albums than Too $hort?”

The answer is: nobody. Considering one of the biggest records of his career — “Blow the Whistle,” which turns 20 next year — didn’t pop off until Short was 40 years old, he’s long been known as someone who probably has a smash hit still tucked away in his back pocket.

“How long can a rapper rap?” Short asks Billboard. “How long can a rapper rap and release relevant music? To what age is it appropriate to rap on stage and actually put on a good performance? What are the limitations of hip-hop? It hasn’t been written yet.”

Short will be turning 59 next week, and he openly discusses his age on his latest album, flexing it like a veiny bicep after a good pump. “I thought you knew, I’m still rappin,” he spits on opener “Still Mackin.” “I thought you knew, b—h, I’m still mackin’/It’s the 2020s and I’m still rappin’.”

Short spoke with Billboard about his new album, ageism in rap and what it felt like stepping into the production chair for the film Freaky Tales.

“I won’t stop” are the first words uttered on Sir Too $hort Vol. 1. You’ve had an unbelievable career, but do you ever feel pressure to stop rapping because of your age?

That ageism is biased on both ends. ‘Cause the older guys think that the younger guys aren’t skilled enough to be in their game, and the younger guys are like, “C’mon OG! It’s my turn.”

I’m comparing my activity to B.B. King and The Temptations — like, people who aren’t in my genre, that went well beyond their senior citizen years and kept performing and satisfying audiences. I’m not measuring this towards other rappers, because rap has not all the way gone there yet. When it’s all said and done I would love for a younger rapper, just one, to say, ‘Man, I wanna stick around like E-40 and Too $hort’. Motivation!

The ageism is there — but at the same time I’m in that battle of just making the narrative. This is what I’m doing, and nobody in there is dictating what it should or shouldn’t be. It’s just me figuring it out.

It’s been five years since your last album, a notable break for you. What inspired this break and why did now feel like the right time to get back in the studio?

I make a lot of songs, and a lot of the songs I make are really good songs — I just haven’t been releasing them. Sort of because of how the industry is. Like, are you gonna be independent? Are you gonna try to get a deal with a major? What’s gonna happen with the marketing and the singles and stuff? It just changed a lot from the OG way I used to do it — and then the results I would get, I wasn’t really feeling like I needed to prove anything.

How has your love for hip-hop deepened over the years? What about the artform keeps you here at almost 59 years old?

It’s just painting pictures. I think I have some of a pre-music video mindset approach to writing songs. When I say pre-video, I mean everything before MTV, where you listen to how songs were written and a lot of songs before videos were made, you actually see a picture when you listened to the song. You see the movie, you see the scenes, because they’re explaining it to you in such a way that there’s no need for a film. It’s songwriting! I like to write visual songs, and I’m a part of that old guard.

What are your thoughts then on the use of social media and TikTok now? For someone who’s been around since rap’s early days, how are you feeling about the state of the genre now?

I’m jealous of the new artists! I’m jealous of the tools they have and opportunities they have. What you can do with popularity now was definitely not available to me, and definitively the tools to market and even make music were not available to me, either. As in sports, you have to survive your era. You have to be on the top of the game in your era, whatever that is. Just maximize it. I’m very curious to see where [hip-hop] is goin’, in a positive way. I know it never stays in one place and I think hip-hop is in good hands — because as a business it did not collapse. A lot of people come in the game every year and get a lot of money, and if they weren’t, I would say it’s a problem.

How are you feeling about West Coast music right now, specifically?

When you have artists that continually break out, fom the G-Eazys to the YGs and Kendricks, you’re proud of your region. As the OG’s, when our youngsters emerge we have to support them, and we do that. The West Coast is a unit that rides for each other. I think the state of West Coast rap is wonderful. One of our guys just survived something nobody else has ever survived, and that’s an onslaught from Drake.

“Blow the Whistle” turns 20 next year. Tell me about how you feel about that record now.

It’s like a parent who has three, four, five kids — and you clearly love one of your kids more than the rest. It’s that kid. You can’t even hide it. I made that song when I was 40, I’d already had multiple platinum albums and gold albums — and it turns out [“Blow The Whistle”] is gonna be my signature song. You couldn’t find one artist who strung a bunch of top-selling albums together in a row and after making all of that albums made their signature song. Nobody did that. Zero. Zilch. Nobody. That’s a Too Short thing!

What was the recording process like? Did you know it was gonna be a smash?

I can’t say I can pick hits. I don’t know how to pick hits, not yours or mine or anybody’s. I feel like that’s a jinx, to name a song a hit before it leaves the studio. “Blow the Whistle” was originally made in 2005. Lil Jon produced it and he was really into Crunk Rock at the time. “Blow the Whistle” — at some point there were rock guitars that were added to the song, and when it was mixed and mastered it was mixed with the guitars. I had a conversation with Jon about not using the guitars, and he’s like, “Nah man, that’s hot!” He assured me the new way with the guitars was the best way. So I just went in the studio and muted out all the guitars and that’s the version we all know and love.

Was Lil Jon upset?

At some point — after a while, he came and said, “You won this one.” We had disagreements in the studio prior to that where he would be right. He held his opinion firm — and I don’t know if he felt some kind of way for a while, but when it was successful, those feelings went away. I do just wanna add that my next album, Sir Too $hort Vol. 2, is 100% produced by Lil Jon.

How did you get into the producing chair for Freaky Tales?

It didn’t take me long to say yes. I read the script before they did any filming. I knew about the chapter that was focused on me. They were asking me to, “Please attach yourself to this project,” and I was like, “Please attach me to this project!” It was mutual. At some point, they fit me in the script as the narrator. I don’t even know if that was their plan or not, and they gave me a cameo. It’s an Oakland movie, shot in Oakland, named after one of my songs. I’m on Cloud Nine right now, bruh.

To add to that, you were also put on the bill for the Rock the Bells Festival. How does that feel?

Oh you just told me, I didn’t even know, s—t. I consider myself 100% to be part of the Rock The Bells family. The motivation for the people over there is really just to uphold the legacy of hip-hop and to not let you forget, and I’m just really proud to be a part of that. I receive a salary for the [radio show] I do, but I promise you I do not do that show for the salary. I do it because I really signed up to be a part of what LL Cool J is preaching over there.

LL was very, very arrogant and very unapproachable as a young rapper — but as an old rapper, OG rapper, he is a hell of an ambassador. Open heart and a whole different L. He played his rap persona to a T… but now It’s nothing but love to all of hip-hop.

Next year will also mark the 15th anniversary of Wiz Khalifa’s “On My Level,” which I feel like introduced a whole new generation of Too Short fans.

That was another one of those bridges. I’m an OG rapper in ’05, ’06 and I’m just riding my wave. I’m out there doing what the game gives me and another bridge comes along. It turned out to be a song because of the new look it gave me, I used to open my show with that song! It would reel the crowd in. I love Wiz for that man. He put me on a gooooood song.

What are some tips you have for younger artists that wanna have longevity like Too Short?

I think loyalty in this game has a lot to do with longevity. Sticking with the people who are really your friends that you started with, who really know you and love you and tell you you ain’t s—t — cause at that moment you really ain’t s—t. I think a lot of our young artists are turned off by the industry because it’s not instant enough, it’s not Folger’s coffee. The one’s who are supposed to be here will be here, cause they’ll endure.

Everybody that’s had a long career, it wasn’t just one long run. Big f—ing dry spots in the middle where you gotta figure it out. Big moments of doubt. The crossroads come, I wouldn’t say often but they continuously come and when you stand at that crossroads you have options. So you might make a wrong turn. So what? Find your way back on track.