Nathan Nice

Nathan Nice

BandHip HopAmericana

"Like outta' all the mystery that I try to twist the key, human heart beating seems to be the most tricky thing. But yo, mine's leavin' marks like a drippy king-size; flip it, 'Ain't Nathan Nice' an’ then he's gone before it dries..." -Nathan Nice, "Melting Margins"

Biography

From the rolling hills, steep cliffs and hidden staircases of Echo Park emerges L.A.-native Nathan Nice, a hip-hop recording, performance and visual artist who is definitely not your typical emcee. Demonstrating that there’s much more to hip-hop than the mainstream’s ‘round the clock rotations—he offers a potent mixture of thoughtful-lyricism, energetic production and an emphasis on improvisation and spontaneity. Nathan Nice truly embraces the historical versatility that the hip-hop genre offers, something people sometimes forget ever existed.

Nathan Nice, born Nathan Harvey Kayser, grew up as the eldest son of an artist and a politically active LAUSD science teacher in Echo Park in the 1980's, all of which made for a powerful combination of influences. The household soundtrack mostly consisted of classic and psychedelic rock, which Nathan could appreciate, but never felt a strong gravitation towards. His love affair with music was truly sparked in the fourth grade when he was hanging out, drawing comics with a few neighborhood friends and someone twisted the radio dial to the first West Coast-based hip-hop station, KDAY AM 1580, back when Greg Mack was still its executive music director. KDAY’s towers were broadcasting just one hill from his house, in the heart of Chavez Ravine. What he heard that day was a much clearer version of what he'd already heard before—beats and rhymes that had long been playing faintly over conversations and the dial tone on his family's house phone and even from the gutters when it rained; (yes, he was living that close to the signal!) Thus witnessing what was the birth of hip-hop on the West Coast, Nathan felt an immediate urge to broadcast his own signals from the hill. From that moment on, he consumed hip-hop like it was fresh water. He bought tapes, built rhymes, studied beats and performed often, so that he could one day make his own worthwhile contribution.
With two full length albums, an E.P. and a myriad of singles and live performances under his belt, its possible to admit that he is indeed on his way towards reaching that goal. Currently working as a graphic designer for The Hundreds Is Huge Inc. in Los Angeles and still fresh off an 18-city U.S. tour with half of the legendary hip-hop crew The Pharcyde, (Fatlip & Tre Hardson), he's up to his eyeballs in new projects—including a brand new, full length album of unreleased Brontosaurus collaborations entitled, The Rummage Sale; the debut album of Pilots on Auto with San Francisco-based hip-hop artist 1865; his first vinyl release with veteran Los Angeles emcee Orko Eloheim (The Sycotik Alien) and a tour to Tokyo, Japan with Sirah One, 1865 and Turtle of Learning Curve slated for November 2010.
Nathan Nice has done all of this without the aid of a record label, manager, booking agent or publicist, but rather with the overwhelming support of his friends, fans and fellow artists world-wide. Making, writing and performing music to enrich the lives of others has truly given Nathan purpose to his own life—and his main focus, and long-held dream, is to travel this planet doing just that.
Nathan Nice is blessed to have shared stages with such artists as Fatlip & Tre Hardson (The Pharcyde), Percee P (Stones Throw Records), Murs, Eligh and Scarub (Living Legends), Aceyalone, Micah 9, Abstract Rude (Project Blowed), Nocando (Alpha Pup Records), Dumbfoundead, I Am Omni, Sleep (Old Dominion), Black Bird (Alpha Pup Records), Acid Reign (Alpha Pup Records), Medusa, Crag Malkovich, Himself, Live Radio, Phoenix Orion, Sirah, Ivan Ives and many others.
Visit NathanNice.com for songs, lyrics, photos, videos, discography, full bio, tweets & more...

Lyrics

Cold Lamp

Written By: Nathan Nice

Cold Lampin’ out in the place to be /
innovative leaves, but we trace the tree /
none of it “make believe” /
when we make what we believe in /
doin’ this shit for personal reasons /

Yeah I got my reason /
for leavin’ a piece of this /
to grease the mix /
Bill folds? we crease it crisp /
but not the soul purpose for my soul creatin’ this /
phosphorescence in a deep abyss /
so when the light emits / its all natural /
heart felt and factual /
the shit is rare now, holy mackerel /
breakin’ it down to the granule /
to capture free radicals / like fireflies in vases / traces /
but there’s no encasin’ this /
except for record crates to cassette cases /
and a fifty gig playlist /
we create with / brains /
an' a beat machine make shift... /
Strategist /
Nathan Nice: mic device /
data gets 
crunked up in a rhyme vice /
over fatter kicks /
blare snares like a Brontosaurus /
heavy, Kevy, Chevy man... bare my soul bitch /
cant afford to snap, my matchsticks: lit /
in a world where these fascists tactics... /
awe, i forget /
burn up with attention spans quick /
fed chemical for the imbalance /
they don’t realize some brains: bullet trains /
they won't derail / even when the track switch /

Cold Lampin’ out in the place to be /
innovative leaves, but we trace the tree /
none of it “make believe” /
when we make what we believe in /
doin’ this shit for personal reasons /

Cold Lamp! in the place to be /
innovative leaves, but we trace the tree /
None of it make “believe,” /
when we make what we believe in /
doin this shit for personal reasons.
[N.N. 2007]

No Weight

Written By: Nathan Nice

Well i was waitin’ for that bass to kick /
knowin’ that what you spit on top /
might just raise a kid / and the only reason /
I could even tell you? / ‘cause i know it first hand /
2-Live an KRS played out the same walkman /
‘till the tape got tangled or just mangled in the sun /
melted like my heart and my tongue over this drum /
floodin’ lung with songs sung /
‘bout where he come from /
“well he cyphered with high schoolers
way cooler than me” /
taught me the technology
to follow all of these possiblies /
and turn em into audibly /
the way it ought to be, honestly /
nowadays, that’s an anomaly /
its funny ‘cause the same kids that was watchin’ me /
and talkin’ shit like its not in me /
well now they noddin’ me /
used to have that fear in my belly /
but now the knot’s free and its not in me /
and that old hand full of butterflies /
beautifully bitten in half by a hummingbird /
precise with a freestyle /
and so random with the written /
wings beatin’ so fast, all you catch is the vision /
i pay very close attention /
to the messages I’m sendin’ /
it’s a fence post upended /
and everybody’s armor gettin’ dented /
from the inside and sentenced /
to a lifetime of choices /
and i write rhymes to voice it /
like i slice lines to hoist /
for sails up the mast /
not doin’ it for the sales nor the cash /
but because its my chosen path /
to be forever honin’ my craft / usin that /
for the most goodness gracious... /
i won’t, i can’t... stop /
i won’t, (won’t) i can’t (can’t)... stop.

•••

Sometimes i feel stagnant /
but this music is like a magnet /
an’ soon enough / I’m recharged and back it /
teachers called it my bad habit /
sayin’ I shoulda kept with my match /
well I did, but lumped it in /
with the rest of my life and that’s mad shit /
all of which found its way down my wrist /
poured into a pen /
like a drill-tip bores into a gem /
squiggle fast / tear up that spiral-bound /
giggle & laugh to myself /
at watchin’ thought get tied to sound /
and all these pretty connections i could make /
lookin’ at a verse like “i could do this all day.” /
my early work was kinda like /
ridin’ a wild horse at night /
followin’ no set course in sight /
aimin’ that cordite left and right was all right /
‘cause i was learning, wasn’t too discerning /
‘till one day someone i respected checked me /
sent me an advisement: /
“yeah, you got your rhymes pinned /
delivery kinda ripened /
but nows the time man / to focus, filter an’ syphon /
explore, kill... every subject that you type in!” /
Top to bottom, start to finish, it made sense so i did /
and these days? i just let the rest blur /
‘cause the meaning of the word’s /
more important then the word... /
I said: These days, i just let the rest blur /
‘cause the meaning of the word’s /
more important then the word... /
I said: These days, i just let these rhymes blur /
‘cause the meaning of the word’s /
more important then the word. /
more important then the word. /
more important then the word. /
more important then the word. /
more important then the word.
[N.N. 2007]

Stuft Starvn

Written By: Nathan Nice

Nuthin’ nice /
clutch a pen and tell her /
in a world fulla’ Hellen Kellers /
getting robbed at their auto-tellers /
steada’ developin’ their senses /
settled settlers in a chair now, /
fences, respirators, AC’s /
I’m hooked on my machines /
so f*ck a windy breeze /
we breathin’ sick laws /
feelin’ brick walls /
with clever skin, camera catchin’ /
every single one of our pitfalls /
compliance in city halls /
and their pretty malls /
with the water falls /
I’m tryin’ to click “pause” /
pry at least a couple of these sharp thick claws /
from my wide eye balls /
but its hard, /
‘cause they’re in there pretty deep /
man its hard! /
like shards of billboard lard /
marketing my targets /
carpet bombin’ / we get stuffed while still starving /
born a media’s darling /
seen ‘em tattooing race-car graphics
onto Agent Starling /
after mother’s arms split /
nothing sacred /
when they ruinin’ the soil /
for that dirty farm shit /
wish I could tune it out /
like MTA’s an’ stank armpits /
but ignorin’ the onslaught they got /
like walkin’ across La Brea Tar Pits /
it just aint gon’ happen...
[N.N. 2005]

Discography

The Rummage Sale (Nathan Nice) — 2010
A Nathan Nice E.P. (Nathan Nice) — 2007
Ain't Nathan Nice (Nathan Nice) — 2006
The InFidelity Project (Various Artists) — 2002
Out of Context (FutuRelics Crew) — 1998

Set List

Typically a 25 to 35 minute set comprised of all original material, including full songs (beats & rhymes), spoken word, call & response, storytelling, turntablism, and beat machine antics.