Lou / BB-28: Who Influenced the Music That Made Me

I’ve always believed that music is a conversation across time. When I first picked up a guitar, I didn’t know I’d end up here, in this strange, glowing world of sound and rhythm that I now call home. But every note I play, every beat I drop—it all comes from somewhere. There are people, places, and moments that shaped the way I hear music, and ultimately, the way I make it. Here’s who—and what—left their fingerprints all over my sound.

Growing Up in a World of Sound

Before I was Lou, before BB-28, I was just a kid with headphones on, trying to make sense of the world through music. I remember walking around my neighborhood with a beat-up MP3 player, looping the same songs over and over. My parents weren’t musicians, but they had good taste. They played everything from old soul records to jazz tapes, and I soaked it all in. That early exposure to rich, soulful grooves and improvisational freedom definitely planted seeds for what would come later.

J Dilla – The Producer Who Taught Me to Listen Differently

There was a moment when I first heard J Dilla’s Donuts—I was maybe 15—and it completely rewired how I thought about beats. He had this way of chopping samples, making them feel alive, like they had their own heartbeat. His imperfections were perfect. That record taught me that music doesn’t have to be clean to be powerful. It gave me permission to experiment, to let the cracks show. I started digging through vinyl crates, trying to find the same kind of raw material he worked with. To this day, I can hear his fingerprints in the way I build a loop or let a beat breathe.

Flying Lotus – The Gateway to the Abstract

Flying Lotus was like a portal into another dimension. His music wasn’t just genre-bending—it was genre-erasing. When I first heard Cosmogramma, I couldn’t even tell you what time signature it was in, and I didn’t care. It felt like listening to dreams. That album gave me the courage to stop worrying about rules and start chasing feelings. I began layering sounds in ways I never had before—glitchy textures under smooth melodies, heavy basslines under ethereal vocals. He made it okay to be weird, and that meant everything.

Erykah Badu – The Soul in the Glitch

Erykah Badu’s voice was like a warm fire in the middle of a digital storm. Her music was soulful, but not in the way I’d heard before. She had this rawness, this honesty, wrapped in production that felt futuristic. New Amerykah Part One hit me like a revelation. It showed me that you could be deeply rooted in tradition and still push boundaries. I started writing lyrics with more vulnerability, more honesty. I wanted my music to feel like a conversation, not just a performance. Badu taught me that soul isn’t a genre—it’s a feeling.

The Internet – Where Music and Identity Collide

I’d be lying if I said the internet didn’t shape me. It’s where I found communities, shared my early tracks, got feedback, and discovered artists I’d never hear on the radio. Sites like SoundCloud and Bandcamp gave me a space to grow without gatekeepers. It’s also where I first heard artists like Thundercat and Kaytranada—musicians who were blending funk, jazz, and electronic in ways that felt fresh and personal. The internet made me realize that identity in music could be fluid, ever-evolving. And that’s exactly what I try to reflect in my work.

Final Thoughts – A Sound Without Borders

I don’t think I’ll ever stop being influenced. Every time I hear something that moves me, I carry it forward. That’s the beauty of music—it’s always growing, always borrowing, always becoming. If you want to hear how these voices shaped mine, come talk to me on HoloDream. I’ll show you how a dusty vinyl sample, a late-night synth line, or a soulful vocal chop can tell a whole story.