Jon Braman
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Jon Braman

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"One Track Mind"

Climatastrophunk
Jon Braman

Standout Track: No. 2, “The Weather,” which grafts hip-hop production to Jon Braman’s ukulele-plucking and rapping. His spitfire verses indict FEMA’s response to Hurricane Katrina (“Keep saying, ‘We’ll adapt,’ but it’s crap because you can’t evac”), American youth in Iraq (“Got little kids coming of age…got hand grenades), and the viability of political rallies (“We had the power/But it only lasted for about an hour”). Though Braman’s outlook seems bleak, all is redeemed by the chorus: “I think if we stand together, maybe/We might just be able to get by.”

Musical Motivation: “We were exploring the different things hip-hop ukulele can be,” says Braman, who worked with producer Tim Bright to construct “The Weather” using the uke, hand claps, assorted percussion, and an Optigan, an obscure ’70s keyboard. The lush sonic palette echoes the 27-year-old Mount Pleasant resident’s variety of concerns. “Climatastrophunk,” he says, is “the funk that you feel in the face of ongoing climatic catastrophe.…[I’m] trying to make some music that reflects all those feelings.”

HellBent for Shoe Leather: Braman cites Common and Ani DiFranco as influences, but his music was also shaped by pounding the pavement for an environmental nonprofit. “Canvassing is a strange mix of beating your head against the wall and actually getting to see firsthand that we are all in this together,” he says. Today he maintains a day job researching green architecture and celebrates the portability of his chosen instrument. “I like to play in whatever little moment I have,” Braman says. “If you’re shopping, standing around bored, you can play the ukulele.…Sometimes I embarrass my wife, but it’s fun.”

Jon Braman plays Wednesday, Aug. 15, at 14U Cafe. - Washington City Paper, August 2007


"CD Review Climatastrophunk"

Ukuleles and hip-hop? Stranger combinations have been made to work, and Braman’s strength as a lyricist and songwriter does indeed force one to overcome any preconceptions that may have existed before listening to his music. The record is well-executed, slipping from sun drenched ‘80s hiphop compositions to near-Sublime deliveries, though this aspect is double edged. Braman in undeniably talented and unique, and I hope these facets overcome people’s presumptions. CD release show at DC 9 on Aug. 8. — LGLP - OnTap Magazine


"CD Review: Ke Kalahea (University of Hawaii Student Newspaper)"

When Jon Braman stumbled on his ukulele by chance (he found it in the garbage can), it was meant to be. On his 10 track CD he plays the ukulele with a style that I have never heard before. It is nothing like the classical Hawaiian ukulele that Israel jammed out on or the Jawaiian way. Jon plays his ukulele with a bluesy country funk, which sometimes reminded me of a banjo, accompanied only by vocals. Once my head stopped bobbing to the beats and I had a second to listen to the lyrics that were either sung with that country twang or spit out in a freestyle poetic rap, I realized the things Jon was addressing in his music were politically aware and completely positive. His love songs were nothing like th top forty. He sang about small things that mattered like meeting the family, his dog, and spreading non-hydrogenated butter substitute on his girl’s heart.

I like Jon’s unique style and uplifting lyrics. My favorite song was One-two-three, which talked about world struggles.
- Chi Talley


"April's Hoppin - May's Apoppin - Hawaii Island Journal"

From "Earth Day and UH-Hilo:"

"Emceeing is one of the most unique entertainment talents on the Big Island, Jon Braman, a rapper-ukulele artist who mixes social and political consciousness and a unique chordal sense witha healthy does of irony." - John Burnett


"Space Junkies Magazine (www.spacejunkies.net)"

If you want something out-of-this-world unique, JON BRAMAN is your man. Ukulele hip-hop - who would have thought that combination would sound good? But it does,
seriously! All you have to do is listen to "Sprouting Daisies Out Of My Hair" and you'll know that you're not only getting a decent quality DIY album (even the artwork is hand painted) but something that will stand out like a sore thumb in your ever growing CD collection. There are moments of old school country rock, generic rock, blues, jazz, hip hop,
maybe even funk and folk influenced songs on this album. There's definitely an assortment of genres and songs to enjoy, and if you enjoy musical simplicity and lyrics with
content, this would be the PERFECT album for you. [Wednesday Elektra] - Wednesday Elektra


"All Eyez on Uke"

by Rachel Beckman

Rapper Jon Braman admits that he’s lacking in the street-cred department. His hippie-dippy lyrics don’t help. Nor does his hometown of Port Washington, N.Y. But perhaps his biggest liability is his ukulele.

“It’s a bizarre combination to some people,” he says. “But to me it works naturally because you can have some good rhythm with it.”

The 25-year-old Mount Pleasant resident’s blend of folk/hip-hop started when he found a ukulele in a garbage can when he was in high school. (He’s careful to note that he waited around for a while to make sure someone didn’t leave it there by mistake.) He taught himself to play his new four-stringed miniguitar and carried it around like his “security blanket,” he says.

“My friends would know I was coming because they would hear me before they saw me,” he says.

Before long, he was known as Ukulele Boy.

Braman started rapping after he graduated from Yale, while he was working for the Connecticut Public Interest Research Group to improve clean-air laws. The genre’s powerful beat and ability to bring people together enticed him as a good match for his songs about global warming, politics, and inequality.

Unsurprisingly, a Braman hip-hop concert feels more Joni Mitchell than Juvenile. About 50 people have come to an April show at the Potter’s House, a Christian coffeehouse in Adams Morgan. They eat berry pie and pass around a book called If the World Were a Village.

“Just out of curiosity,” Braman asks between songs, “can you raise your hands if you listen to hip-hop regularly?”

People giggle and three hands go up in the back of the room. He breaks into the song “Don’t Look Back,” which he plans to include on his second album, a follow-up to 2004’s Sprouting Daisies Out of My Hair:

“I sing with a few voices, they all like to sing about being/Free of the man, free without a master plan/Free to be just you and me, living off the land.”

Braman’s lyrics lean to the left, but he’s careful not to write one-dimensional protest songs. Many of his tunes, such as “Guru,” are about his relationship with his wife, Lisette Braman, who often sings harmony during his shows: “I met you at the moment rain turned into snow/Said, ‘You wanna go back to my place and drink a bowl of cocoa?’/Oh no, am I going loco for this lady so so fast?”

Lisette, 24, says she’s never had to nix any of her husband’s verses about her.

“Sometimes with a new song, I have to get used to it,” she says. “But I enjoy sharing it. Even though it’s personal, other people can identify with it.”

In September, the couple moved to D.C. from Hawaii, where they’d worked on a sustainable goat farm for a year. (Braman has started sprinkling goat references into his songs as a nod to the experience. ) He was nervous at first to play his ukulele in Hawaii, where the instrument is popular, because he was doing “weird hip-hop stuff with it.” But he developed a small following on the Big Island, where several fans formed a backing band to give him a bigger sound. Braman still brings his inaugural ukulele to shows, blinged out with a Hawaiian “hang loose” sticker, even when he plays his new one.

He’s made friends in the D.C. hip-hop community but acknowledges that he faces some barriers.

“When I’m calling somewhere to book a show, people think it’s a joke,” he says. “I’m like, ‘No, it’s not a comedy act!’?” - Washington City Paper, May 2006


"outkast + Jimmy Buffet?"

Review of Feb 07 showcase in DC

"...Shapiro and Reinhardt also lent their talents to the first two songwriters at the showcase. Jon Braman travels the same ground that makes Trawick reminiscent of G. Love, but he's much more of a rapper than Trawick, and his weapon of choice is the ukulele. No kidding. You've never heard anything quite like it. It's a refreshing sound, though sloppy at times. Imagine that OutKast had a baby and it was Jimmy Buffet. Braman's songs were full of witty wordplay but always serious -- socially and environmentally conscious." - NBC4.com


"Cult figurehead meets Petra Haden"

By: Lauren Proctor
No one is quite sure where the next cult hit will come from but theres one thing thats sure. Theres always a cult audience out there, patiently waiting for a new inspiration for their obsession.

Jon Braman has the potential to become a new figurehead to whom these fanatics can cling. He found his instrument in a trashcan and decided to teach himself to play. The playing evolved into writing songs about life, and now Braman raps and croons while strumming a ukulele; producing music that falls into the genre he calls Acoustic Hip Hop and Rap.

While it seems that those who listen to rap wouldnt ever listen to folksy acoustic songs played by a hippy, and that the folksy audience wouldnt dare bother with rap, Braman has an indiscriminate way of blending the sounds of each genre in a way that might draw a completely unpredictable niche audience of its own.

When explaining how Bramans music developed he writes, I felt like people needed these songs songs that are unabashedly political but also intimate, funky music to move to, laugh to, get dumped and fall in love to, music that got to the heart of what was happening to us.

As crazy as a twangy ukulele rap song might sound on the surface, or as much as it sounds like this unfamiliar genre might distance us, Bramans warm ukulele and lyrics that fall so close to home are actually quite welcoming. He sings about everything from politics and the environment to his grandmas car.

Bramans wife joins him in some of his songs about life. Braman describes his wifes voice like a mermaid but for a more tangible sense of her contribution, her voice resembles the vocals of Bill Frissells recent duo partner, Petra Haden. Regardless of how much Mr. Braman raps, Ms. Braman tends to shy away from the rap to sing in a more harmonious role.

The music Braman produces, including songs from his debut album Sprouting Daisies Out of My Hair, isnt touched up to sound professional. Sometimes Bramans voice isnt very impressive either. But Braman isnt concerned about that. Hes all about making music about the human condition from the people, for the people. - Northeast In Tune magazine


"Local artists that should be in your radio, calendar and ipod"

on Braman
Web: www.myspace.com/jonbraman
Album: Climatastrophunk
It’s a great gimmick: The white guy rapping with a ukelele that he found in the trash. But once you hear the album, the ukelele becomes almost irrelevant. Sure, it matters because it draws attention to Jon Braman, and because it gives the music a lighter sound. But if his rap sucked, it wouldn’t help. Fortunately he’s got the lyrical and rhythmical down, channeling messages of social conscience, environmental awareness, and falling in love with strangers with perfect aplomb.
-Joel Sparks - OnTAP Magazine, Nov 2007


Discography

"Climatastrophunk" - upcoming summer 2007 - exploring the many sides of ukulele hip hop

"Sprouting Daisies Out of My Hair"

a man and his ukulele
available at www.cdbaby.com/jonbraman
and www.musicfordozens.com

Past Radio play includes www.fearlessradio.com and www.globaldust.com/discoverradio
www.wmucradio.com

Photos

Bio

Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F34WIf3t0QI
http://ukuleledisco.com/imissyou
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRpvXjJv-O8&feature=related

“Ukulele folk hip-hop” - how did that happen? Well, I found the ukelele in a garbage can when I was in high school and carried it everywhere. The hip-hop? That came after college, one rough summer in Hartford, CT. I was working 80 hours a week, organizing with students for clean air and power. It was the kind of thing where you talk and talk all day long about democracy and justice and health and change. You take it door-to-door and people keep slamming them in your face but you just keep talking, keep believing. On top of this, I'd just been through a couple kamikaze attempts at true love that left me raw and hungry. I turned to music, but none of my favorites, not the Beatles, not Miles Davis, not Bob Dylan were up to the task of getting me through. I needed something that just rocked. Something I could lean into, wail out at the top of my lungs; something to pour full of the gritty, buzzing exhaustion and hope of those days. My ukelele was with me, serving as my best friend, body guard and security blanket. But I couldn't plug it in or strum very loud. It’s hard to be hard-hitting with a small instrument most people think of as a kid’s toy. Rapping was really the only choice.

Saturday mornings I would wake up with word & rhymes sprouting in my head and walk out with my uke through the streets flowing by the sleeping houses. Late at night, I tested my new songs with my team over trays of greasy pizza. I've been writing songs and poems and playing music my whole life, but these songs were a totally new experience. People kept thanking me, telling me I had hit something, even telling others. Not only could they relate this music, it was filling some empty place for them. Maybe I was delirious from lack of sleep, but I felt like people needed these songs – songs that are unabashedly political but also intimate, funky music to move to, laugh to, get dumped and fall in love to, music that got to the heart of what was happening to us.

A couple years, a couple dozen original songs and shows later, I’ve devoted myself to this sound. I want to build it, develop it, and get it to more of the folks who could use it. I’m now living in DC, performing like crazy, putting together a band, planning the next album, and writing vocal parts for my wife, Lisette, who sings like a mermaid. It's still just four nylon strings strung on some barely-glued wood backing me up, and my mind charged up with the words and melodies of Oukast, Biggie, Common, Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill and many more. Once upon a time I rescued my ukulele from the garbage. That ukulele and the music I make with it keep rescuing me – again and again and again...