ON SALE 7/14!
LiveNation Presents @ Songbyrd Music House
Saturday September 30, 2017
D: 7:00 // S: 8:00 PM
Kodie Shane’s got a gift, or maybe a curse. “I hear stuff in my head all day,” the 18-year-old, whose real name is Kodie Williams, said with a giggle over FaceTime, pacing around her Los Angeles Airbnb. Snarled boasts, playful melodies, insidious refrains — the ideas glut her mind constantly. “Sometimes I’ll just write a whole rap in my [iPhone] Notes, and later I’ll hear a beat.”
Maybe it has something to do with her childhood, which she spent completely immersed in the music world. Her father, Danny C. Williams, was a member of Rick, Ran & Dan, a men’s vocal group based out of Detroit. They often handled backing arrangements for Shane’s aunt, R&B singer Cherrelle of “I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On” fame. Shane’s sister Brandi was a member of Blaque, the platinum-selling girl group. Their mom, Hope, is on Kodie’s management team. “My auntie did it, my sister, my dad was doing it, and now I’m doing it,” Shane said. “It’s almost destiny.”
She started making music herself at age 14, first working as a writer for the Atlanta production studio Greystone Park, overseen by D.Clax and Matty P, two local rap vets. Matty P showed her music to his friend and associate Coach K, the stylish Atlanta bigwig who manages Gucci Mane and Migos. He became something of a mentor to Shane. A couple years later, he introduced her to Lil Yachty, the hyper-melodic rapper whose rise to success is one of rap’s most endearing 2016 narratives, at Atlanta’s Masquerade club, where the two quickly bonded.
After releasing an EP called 2060 in March, Shane started getting real traction for her own songs this past summer. First came June’s Little Rocket EP, a warped tapestry of vaporous R&B, trunk-rattling trap, and odes to social media abstinence, almost Drake-like in tone. The following month, Shane contributed a verse to Lil Yachty’s posse cut “All In,” marking her formal introduction as a member of his band of collaborators, the Sailing Team. “Woah up on my wrist, yeah, wetter than a fish,” she raps, her voice sweet over clunky snares and a whimsical melody. The words might be simple, but her slapstick presence in the video — all giddy poses and hilarious faces — just about steals the show.