JPEGMAFIA

In 1886’s Beyond Good and Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future, German thinker Friedrich Nietzsche posed: “Life itself is will to power; self-preservation is only one of the indirect and most frequent results thereof.” In other words – to be in charge, to be on top, trumps all ideals beneath it.  

It seems that little has changed in the 140 years since the writing was originally published; the desire of governance and the drive to sit among the elite – whether politically, societally or artistically – dominates contemporary culture. 

That’s not to say that grappling to sit at the summit of your particular specialism is wrong; competition leads to greater achievement, even if it does ruffle some feathers. JPEGMAFIA – born Barrington DeVaughn Hendricks, known as Peggy to friends – shows how dancing with the devil of ego can be the making of a career.

Earlier in 2026, in an interview with US media platform Pigeons & Planes, the 36-year-old noise provocateur declared himself, with complete self-assurance, to be the king of his stylistic domain. “I'm already the best in this space of experimental rap,” he pronounced, lounging in a studio chair, guarded by four masked men in all black attire. “There's no one who competes with me. People cannot do what I do.”

Some three months later, his attitude hasn’t changed. If anything, he’s more steadfast in his assertion. “I am the forefront leader of it, whether people like it or not,” he confirms to me, without a milligram of doubt. “I think people just don't like the uncomfortable truth. The only reason I even use that phrase is because that phrase was used against me.”

As JPEGMAFIA’s 2018 sophomore album, Veteran, unsettled and influenced America’s left-field hip hop scene, the phrase ‘experimental rap’ emerged in online articles and forums, and soon became social media’s new favourite buzzword. Now, it’s used commonly – sometimes as criticism, other times approbation. In Peggy’s mind, the crown of experimental rap has been – and still is – his to lose. And, in the near decade since he was appointed protectorate, he’s grown cynical of the music that has become defined within the musical sub-genre. To him, it’s just “people out here making anime music, rage music, and whatever that Ken Carson sounding shit is.” 

And so with his latest body of work, he reaffirms his regency, one that, actually, seems to mean more to others than it does to him. “I didn't know it would hurt so many people's feelings,” he chuckles.

Enter Experimental Rap: a 25-track chaotic creation that is fearless, ferocious, flawed, and untarnishable to its maker. It’s a reclaiming, a recertification of his creative supremacy. But also an ironic reflection on the pointlessness of the very phrase. 

Nowadays, Hendricks is not easy to get a hold of. I’ve spent the best part of July trying to reach the enigmatic figure, eager to discover the true essence of the man beyond the online rowdiness and revolutionary artistry. Most modern established artists have a whole team of people working with them. From management to A&R, attorneys to publicists, creative directors to booking agents. But Peggy keeps his circle miraculously small. Just an assiduous publicist and a distribution rep. 

Eventually, I’m virtually face-to-face with the sovereign of avant-garde rap himself.   

It’s early evening for me, mid morning for the LA-based Peggy. 10 or so minutes into our allotted timeslot, the name ‘ron banks’ – stylised in lowercase – pops up in the Zoom lobby, wishing for entry. There’s a faint rustle as a microphone is turned on. The camera stays off; instead, a monotonous graphite square remains.

I thank him for taking the time, and affirm I’m glad that we managed to do this. It’s “no problem”.  

How's your summer been? 

It's been pretty good; just been out of the country working.

Working on new music again?

Yes. 

Another new album in the early works?

Uh, yeah, pretty much.

His answers are blunt, keeping me sharp, forced to squeeze any and every drop of information I can, like a halved lemon that’s been left in the fridge for too long. But the tang is still there, somewhere. Everyone – even the most taciturn of individuals – has juice lurking within their reticence. In Hendricks’ case, it’s a passionate belief in his own excellence, and a vehement distaste for those who claim otherwise. 

“I am the leader of this shit; before I mentioned [experimental rap], it wasn't even [a phrase] in the zeitgeist,” he snarls. “Now it's something people use regularly. People are just so fucking wack, bro. I don't even know how to explain it. You see how many of these fucking no-name underground rappers got their pussy hurt because I said I'm the best at this niche thing? It's just like, ‘You n****s are fucking weird.’”

His sixth solo album under the JPEGMAFIA alias – a seventh including his sensational 2021 joint LP with Danny Brown, SCARING THE HOES – Experimental Rap has spun Reddit threads into overdrive and divided the US hip hop community. Some find it bold, bolstered by excellent production. Others find it derivative, and not as far reaching artistically as some of his previous work. 

Perhaps the record’s title and intention has been read a little too literally by some critics. Take the cover art: brutishly chromatic in tone, devoid of vibrance, the artist’s expressionless face almost centered in the frame, ever so slightly to the left. Surrounding him are bikini-clad women, whose faces are seemingly digitally printed on. They are sort of looking you in the eye, sort of gazing blankly past you. It’s hard to tell. It’s weird, and uncomfortable. You feel like if you stare at the image for too long, something terrible might happen. 

So, what does it all mean? Some deep, dark message about misogyny? A broody clenching-of-fists expressed through an artist’s voice? Or pure, unadulterated trolling? Maybe he just thought it was funny. 

For Peggy, an inherently experimental artist who holds complete autonomy over his music from the lyrics to the composition, the production to the engineering, this latest body of work is arguably among his most digestible releases. His signature brash percussion is often countered by guitar-driven samples, which are sometimes even saccharine and melodic, which is something unusual in his prior discography as JPEGMAFIA. The album’s palettes are still mind-bogglingly demanding, though. And beat-switch centric.

He raps, by and large, in fierce, volatile triplets. Some have criticised his flow’s lack of variation, but you could argue that the repetitive nature results in a recurring vocal motif that feels hypnotic and infectious, a constant thread that anchors the explosive and unpredictable instrumentals that surround it.  

The album is about being honest to himself, dismissing expectations, and reaching a new pinnacle in terms of raw technical craftsmanship. “It just came from needing to be blunt, removing whatever people think it is, basically, and needing a record where it was more focused on the technicality of everything. The rapping, the beats. I wanted [an album] where I was unconcerned with what people expect.”

It’s not for everyone. But that’s kind of the point. Obviously the music of JPEGMAFIA – the savant of the strange – is an acquired taste. Like anchovies.

“There’s no concerted effort to be anything,” he shrugs. “That's just how I've always been. I haven't changed, I'm the same fucking person.” 

It’s admirable that Peggy is still the same person who, as he told American publication Pitchfork in a video interview in 2023, had “50 views for 15 fucking years” before he finally found success. His pathway to here has been far from linear.

Born in Brooklyn, his family relocated to the red state of Alabama in his early teens, where he experienced bullying and racism. At 18, he enlisted in the United States Air Force, serving a tour during the Iraq War and spending time stationed in Kuwait, Japan, Germany and North Africa. He was granted honourable discharge after reporting the abuse of his superiors. 

From his early teen years, Peggy was captivated by music production. During his time in the Air Force, his interest in beatmaking sprouted, and he found his roots as a rapper and songwriter. He started releasing music under the moniker Devon Hendryx; you can find smatterings of those releases now shared via anonymous YouTube channels. The songs are ambitiously experimental, but still more conventional in structure and sound when compared with his current work, perhaps lacking focus but endearing and engaging nevertheless. Their maker doesn’t hold much love for them though, and certainly won’t be revisiting them anytime soon. 

“That shit was me in the military,” he scoffs on reflection. “That shit was a persona. That's why I was rapping about anime and shit. That's not what I was around, I was just taking shit I saw off the internet. In real life, I was in the fucking military. If you like it, you like it, but n****s coming to me now when I'm 36, wanting me to be the persona of a 19-year-old in the military is just some super odd shit. The [Hendryx music] is like my demos, and maybe my demos hit some people, but like, that's still what they are: demos.” 

Following his discharge, Hendricks would relocate to Baltimore, Maryland – a city known for its bustling underground punk and electronic scenes – and baptised himself JPEGMAFIA. “I changed my name because…I don't fucking know, I was in the military when I was making that shit, like 20 years old or some shit, and I just got tired of it. [Devon Hendryx] was like the first thing I ever did in music. I had no idea that shit would get any traction, I had no plan. I didn't even factor that in. But whatever it is, it’s working, so fuck it, I don't care.” 

While his independently released 2016 studio debut album, Black Ben Carson, hinted at his artistic potency and garnered support from left-field rap fans, it was 2018’s Veteran that truly changed everything. Not just for his own career, but for the trajectory of the scene that would become known as experimental or alternative rap. The sophomore is a mayhemic microcosm of first-term Trumpist America, a thrilling 19-track work that sinks its fangs into the vacuity of contemporary society, blending dissonant production with skittish viral soundbites and cutting lyrical satire. 

His third album, 2019’s All My Heroes Are Cornballs, is, for many, his pièce de résistance, a confident chiselling of his challenging and compelling creative characteristics, and a confirmation of his distinct ingenuity. In the years since, Hendricks has expanded his catalogue adeptly, with most of his releases this decade finding critical acclaim. From 2021’s LP! To 2023’s SCARING THE HOES, the rip-roaring collaborative album with fellow sonic raconteur Danny Brown, and 2024’s daring fifth solo full-length, I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU. He’s also expanding his collaborative portfolio of late, co-writing and co-producing a track on K-pop juggernaut BTS’s 2026 comeback album, ARIRANG.

“I mean, I think it's one of the best evolutions of an artist ever, if you look at my whole thing,” he mediates. “That's just my personal opinion. I am all self-motivation and it’s just me just doing it all by myself. Who else is operating like that? Not many people. So it is what it is.”

A live set from JPEGMAFIA is worth blocking out your calendar for. From years of nearly bringing the roof down in dingy basements to selling out comprehensive global tours, Hendricks then spent a portion of last year supporting nu metal heavyweights Linkin Park on their stadium tour. “Playing at Wembley Stadium is different from playing to 5,000 people,” he says. “It's just different scales, different energy you have to bring, you have to be doing more, you have to keep the crowd invested, it's just a different level.”

Peggy will be bringing his experience and energy to a North American tour of his own in the autumn. But first, a handful of European festivals; the standout of which being East London’s All Points East. Performing on one of six singular day festival bills taking place in Victoria Park between the 21st and 30th August, he’ll appear, unsurprisingly, on the most eclectic and experimental line-up. Under the blanket of All Points East but presented as Outbreak – a festival movement which began in Sheffield 15 years ago that now holds annual dates in Manchester and London – the artists playing sets range from Idles to Ecca Vandal; EsDeeKid to Interpol; Amyl and The Sniffers to Wisp; Peggy himself to the legacy band in the headline slot.

“I respect the Deftones, and I think that it's just a good thing to be a part of,” he says. “I respect the artists on the bill. It's business as usual for me. It's work and I'm going to go in there and do what I do.”

He’s played his fair share of festivals throughout the years, so what does he want from his audience at Victoria Park on Sunday 23rd August? “Usually festival crowds are 50-50,” he replies. “Sometimes they're there for you, sometimes they're not, so I don't really know. I guess the only thing I want to see from the crowd is…As long as they react, if they know me or not. And if they don't know me, you can win somebody over, I guess.”

Apart from All Points East and taking his latest album on the road, the innovator is already working on his next body of work, perhaps with us before the year’s conclusion. He’s “been observing” the conversation around his name. And – unequivocally – JPEGMAFIA, the king and creator of Experimental Rap, is “definitely gonna have some fucking feedback.”