We recently had the chance to connect with Brad William Cox and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Brad William, thank you so much for joining us today. We’re thrilled to learn more about your journey, values and what you are currently working on. Let’s start with an ice breaker: What makes you lose track of time—and find yourself again?
I would say music, but at the core, it’s writing. I’m a writer. Whether it’s blogs, books, songs, or social posts, I enjoy sharing my thoughts and ideas with the world. If it’s true we were created in the likeness of our Creator, then creating is what we’re called to do; in the beginning was the Word. It all starts with communicating an idea. The instrumentation and the music itself are simply tools to connect with others. When I do find time, I like to lose track of it by exploring the thoughts that are constantly trying to connect with my spiritual antennae. I can spend hours, days, weeks, or even years conjuring new songs, but the end product lives on. Memories live on, but only when they’re “sticky” and attributable to you and your work.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am an artist based in the Baltimore area with a lifelong dedication to music, literature, and podcasting. My journey began in Los Angeles in 1996, and since then, I have cultivated a prolific career as a singer-songwriter and musician. I’ve had the privilege of forming and fronting several notable groups, including Skitzo Calypso, Niki Thunders, We Love the Underground, and Veteran Avenue. To date, my work has yielded over 24 albums and EPs, alongside various collaborative songwriting and vocal projects across the region.
Beyond music, I am an author. In 2015, I released the first installment of my trilogy, Children of the Program, marking my entry into the literary world. Most recently, I’ve expanded my creative reach into the world of podcasting. In 2021, I launched Mouthful of Graffiti, a Mid-Atlantic arts podcast that has allowed me to become a dedicated voice for our regional arts community.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
In 1996, I became a cliché. I packed my bags and moved to Los Angeles to become a rock star. It was that simple. That’s what my heroes did, so I followed suit. Within weeks of arriving in the Golden State, I quickly realized that there was a direct line from being connected to being seen. I didn’t have connections. I worked at Tower Records on Sunset and met a lot of famous individuals, but there was an unmistakable understanding that fame and fortune weren’t being found; they were being known. Still, I formed a few bands, but my heart told me I could be a bigger fish in a smaller town, so I returned home. The experience also taught me that following my own path and making music without the expectation of being discovered was a surefire way to redefine what being an artist and a rock star could be; I didn’t need a label—I would become the label.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Perhaps I watched too many Rocky movies growing up, but giving up was never really an option. When I hit certain crossroads in my career, I always stopped, pivoted, and went in a new direction. Eventually, as if in a labyrinth, you find the center; whether the Goblin King is waiting is anyone’s guess, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
When Skitzo Calypso was slowing down, I started Niki Thunders and We Love the Underground, and began putting my journalism degree to work by writing the first book in a trilogy called Children of the Program. When We Love the Underground ended, I revived Skitzo Calypso, continued writing, immersed myself in some collaborations, and began writing music for a project called Veteran Avenue—a nod to the street I lived on in Los Angeles. While that project was gaining wings, I kept writing and started the Mouthful of Graffiti podcast. There’s always something to get into; I think you just need to accept and redirect your focus whenever you start feeling hopeless.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Is the public version of you the real you?
It is, which may be as much a blessing as it is a fault. What you see is what you get. There is no man behind the curtain—I am the curtain. There’s no fantasy. For decades, I’ve shared my personal diary with the world, writing like some mad lawn gnome scribbling out my thoughts through endless lunar cycles. I’m as much a father and career-minded community advocate as I am a tortured artist, just trying to purge the thoughts and feelings from my body so others can connect. I want them to find someone they can relate to; a soundtrack to their pains, losses, heartaches, and confusion.
Many fans have seen my evolution from a young, piss-and-vinegar-filled youth to a maturing adult and accepted it, while others likely long for me to have stayed in a state of stagnation. But growth, change, and doing things your way is the only way you’re ever going to truly connect. The truth is, you can be so much of yourself that it becomes unbelievable. The higher you climb, the thinner the air gets, and the harder the sticks and stones (which will not break me) will fall. You just have to own your truth and mute the static.
Okay, we’ve made it essentially to the end. One last question before you go. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I want people to remember that you don’t have to wait for someone else to tell you you’re good enough. Just get up and start doing what gives you energy. I’ve been a hot mess at everything I’ve started, but like the story of The Ugly Duckling, I’ve always found “Swanhood” in every reinvention of myself.
I want them to say he was a fearless champion for art therapy, creativity, and uncomfortable honesty—someone who wasn’t afraid to hold the broken mirror in front of every person or situation that created him. After all, we are all creators and the creation of our own actions. I would want them to remember feeling safe and accepted around me. I would want them to know they were understood, even when they thought no one else felt the same way. I would want them to take pride in their community and to wake up every day intent on turning the heart of darkness into something that beats light.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://bradwilliamcox.com
- Instagram: bradcoxentertainment
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/skitzocalypso/
- Yelp: https://www.youtube.com/@BradWilliamCox
- Other: https://linktr.ee/mouthfulofgraffiti
https://skitzocalypso.com
Image Credits
Photo #4 is by Barry Adkins.
