Mango Dassler is an artist really on the forefront of Irish music. He released his first EP with producer Mathman in December, and Mango attempts to deal with topics of relevance to him personally, as well as issues which he feels are relevant to Irish society as a whole. I met him in a cafe last Tuesday to try and get a sense of what this young man has to say for himself.
Having only seen Mango perform once before, the long lasting impact he made left hopes high for the conversation. The energy with which he performed was breathtaking. Little beads of sweat rolling down his brow as he spat bars over MathMan’s beats, the crowd being whipped into a frenzy.
We delve into conversation about Mango’s career, and the ways in which it has progressed. Like many other musicians, it grew out of influence and self-development. “At first you make music other people want to hear, and then you start to make the music that you want to hear”, he says.
Mango used to be in a group called The Animators before branching out solo. It’s the music’s story that he still appreciates, citing Ice Cube as one of hip hop’s master storytellers: “When you first start listening to rap music and you listen to “Cyprus Hill” and think to yourself ‘yeah I understand what it means to be from the ghetto’, which you don’t but the story still resonates.”
At first you make music other people want to hear, and then you start to make the music that you want to hear
Mango cites Mike Skinner of The Streets as another big influence. Skinner’s track “Original Pirate Material” was one of the first times he heard a rapper who looked like him, rapping about things that were personal to him. Through Skinner’s work, Mango could see that he too could contribute to the world of rap music, a world that, until this point, was mainly American and black. It was something he appreciated, but couldn’t connect to. At that time, he thought, a skinny white guy with a bad haircut couldn’t make it as a rapper.
Mango’s tastes are as eclectic as his style. “People see me barrelling down the street with headphones on thinking I am listening to rap music, but you can take inspiration from so many other place.” Smiling, he continues: “I could be listening to Gil-Scott Heron or country music, or fucking 90s power ballads.”
For Mango, music is all about the emotion and the idea. If you just listen to rap music by people in your own situation, he says, then you’ll just reproduce that and the genre won’t move forward musically.
Rap and hip-hop are gaining in popularity locally. I ask Mango if he thinks it is being taken more seriously in Dublin these days? “Yes definitely. For one, I think the music has gotten better, the production and the packaging especially. It’s easier nowadays to differentiate between what is bad and what is good.” But it’s only recently, Mango believes, that reaching people without having to use YouTube and social media has become possible: “There’s more of a platform [for rap] now.”
“Integration and multiculturalism aided greatly too, there’s a sort of post-recession psyche we have now where the younger generation actually feel they can change their country. [Look] at the marriage referendum!”
Mango’s outward gaze is incredibly refreshing, as he continues: “With the recession, about half my friends went to Australia and those who stayed said to themselves ‘we have no money, can’t go to college, can’t learn a trade, so we might as well do something. Now is the time to take chances’. All of these things coming together is what I feel has led to the huge resurgence in Irish music.”
Mango mentions Limerick’s Rusangano Family as an excellent example of this, a group fronted by two African immigrants and a DJ from the city: “They’re different from everything, they show that rural Ireland has a lot to offer in terms of music and are an inspiration to other people from those areas.”
Mango’s live performances erupt with energy. I ask him what it’s like to work in the studio. “Tracks like ‘What Are You Sayin?’ are made to be played live. I love recording tracks but some that we play live we just are never going to record. I love playing live, we harness our energy and try to create a gig that we would want to be at. It’s all about making that connection with the audience”, he says.
I want to talk to young fellas who may not be aware of the eighth amendment
Energy from the audience is just as important as energy on stage, Mango continues: “You don’t want people standing there bopping their heads and drinking cans, fuck that. If people are going on a night out and spending their money, I want them to go home and be like ‘that was fucking deadly’. I want to talk to people.” The wide-ranging demographics at his shows are something Mango says he really loves, and is something that says a lot about the artist himself. He says: “All kinds of people come along to our gigs and enjoy it. I’ve had women coming up to me afterwards being like ‘I know I’m a bit old but that was amazing. Am I too old to be here?’ No way, as long as you love the music and want to have a bit of a dance we want you there.”
Something special about Mango is that his sound is as politically focused as his outlook. He wants people to think. “Art is meant to provoke emotion, or opinion. Even just a release from reality. I want to talk to young fellas who may not be aware of the eighth amendment and I want to say ‘I’m a young fella too, I wear rosary beads, but this is important’. I have a platform. I want people to think, but I also want them to dance.”
We talk a little about Mango’s producer, MathMan. He’s just as crucial to Mango’s sound as Mango is. He tells: “[MathMan} is the don. He is one of the most hard-working producers working in Dublin at the moment.” Since working together, Mango has preferred both guys take centre stage: “When we first started making music together, there was five people all fighting for the spotlight but he was happy just to vibe in the background. Recently however, I just don’t want it to be Mango, both of us are on that stage. Everything that I do, he is equally important.”
Mango says their collaborations work because the pair are so similar: “It’s weird because, me and him are effectively the same person. We get all of each other’s references, even though he’s a few years older and we’re from different worlds.”
I ask Mango about his recent EP, The Wheel Up. It’s a five-track production that means a lot to him. “[I’m] particularly excited having a young rapper called Sam Daniel, who supported Versatile recently at their sold-out show in District 8. I met him at a gig I was playing in The Bernard Shaw, and I said fuck it, let’s make a track together. If I have this platform, I really want to use it to support the younger fellas too. He’s only just done his debs, and he’s very fuckin’ cool.”
Mango finishes talking, finishes his coffee and rolls a cigarette before bouncing out the door. He is clearly a man who is delighted to be where he is and to be given the chance to make music for people. He’s humble and insightful, and a real credit to the burgeoning rap movement happening in Ireland at the moment.
Personally, I’m looking forward to hearing the new album. His vision for the world is poetic, intelligent and more necessary than ever.
Mango is supporting Mike Skinner in Hangar on December 28th.
