Curtis Waters Is Ready to End His ‘Bad Son’ Era
The Nepali-born artist on his newly released album, the pressures of repaying your parents’ sacrifice, and more
Curtis Waters’ album “Bad Son” comes out June 23.
Callum Walker Hutchinson
Words by Eric Diep
On a seasonably warm spring day in Bed-Stuy, Curtis Waters is sitting at the bar in Turtles All the Way Down, a place that advertises a $15-cocktail called a painkiller nutcracker. He isn’t hard to spot: He’s wearing an all-black outfit he mostly thrifted and a custom leather jacket with the logo for his new album, BAD SON, on the back. His fingers have a ring on each hand, a snake ring that matches his brother’s, and a heart ring to represent his girlfriend. After greeting each other, we head to the quiet backyard to talk about BAD SON, out today.
Waters is a low-key artist and the easily approachable type. As more bar patrons filter in with their dogs and fill out the backyard, nobody notices the Los Angeles-based TikTok star casually occupying a Brooklyn barstool. He’s here to shoot the video for “DEATH KEEPS CALLING MY NAME,” his next single from BAD SON, telling me he has to learn how to drive a moped for later tonight. Maybe it’s better that Waters can move freely these days after blowing up on TikTok with “Stunnin’” in 2020, which led to him fielding record label offers, signing up with management, and negotiating licensing deals on his terms. “Stunnin’” allowed him to drop a debut album called Pity Party and after pandemic restrictions eased, he went on his first 12-city tour. Waters has remained independent, recently signing a new licensing deal with Guin Records for BAD SON.
A few things to know: he’s a 23-year-old, Nepali-born artist who has been categorized as hip-hop, pop, alternative, and punk. He’s quick to emphasize that none of these labels have felt accurate, and he’s just exploring different genres. He started making beats when he was 14 under the name Trunks (like the Dragon Ball Z character), dipping into graphic design, and designing his clothes. He didn’t take music seriously until he hit gold with “Stunnin’” at age 20.
Another thing to know about Waters is that he has a curiosity about music that motivates him to listen to everything. He tweets about being a fan of Death Grips, Katy Perry, Kendrick Lamar, Odd Future, Frank Ocean, and Tyler, the Creator. He speaks highly of Tyler’s influence on his life, saying his second album Wolf was a shift for him as a human. “It was a thing that made me think like, ‘Oh, I can do this,’” Waters says. “Because I went back to Bastard, I went back to all these songs. All these kids are making music, and it is so DIY. I looked at that ‘Earl’ video and all these videos. I was obsessed. It was the first time that I could be myself. When you’re a kid, you think there’s this rule where you have to go to school and do what your parents tell you. After I saw Tyler, it was the first time I was like, ‘Oh, I have free will.’”
When you’re a kid, you think there’s this rule where you have to go to school and do what your parents tell you. After I saw Tyler, it was the first time I was like, ‘Oh, I have free will.’”
BAD SON comes at a point in Waters’ career where he’s ready to close this chapter and begin anew. The album touches on themes of his immigrant story, understanding his parents’ sacrifice and wanting to give back. He navigates issues of self-doubt, cultural identity as a Nepali artist reaching international success, and mental health with brutal honesty because advocating for people with similar backgrounds has encouraged them to be open about what they’re going through. His entire journey in the music industry has led to BAD SON, with songs like “PETTY” with TiaCorine adding to the summertime anthems and the cathartic “DEATH KEEPS CALLING MY NAME” with Shrimp showing his range. For Waters, making it through the ebbs and flows of life starts with letting go of the past.
The afternoon sun beams, brightening up our table as we get deeper into the world of Curtis Waters, where our conversation touches on the origin story behind his name, embracing his Nepali culture, and why he feels it is time to release his most personal album yet.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Eric Diep: What’s the origin story behind the name Curtis Waters?
Curtis Waters: There are a few different origin stories. There are a few different reasons I made it. But I used to make this comic, and I was really into Scott Pilgrim when I was a kid. And I had this character named Curtis Waters, and it was sort of based on Ian Curtis from Joy Division and Frank Ocean for the Waters. And I remember I was making this comic, it was about my life. And then I remember I moved to America when I was 17, and I started telling people my name was Curtis, and I sort of had this chance to make music, start new, and make a new identity. So I started embodying the Curtis Waters character that I would make comics about, you know what I mean? So it was performance art in a way, but then it kind of blended into my real life.
ED: BAD SON is this character you’re exploring. Does it fit in a genre?
CW: When I first came up with the idea for BAD SON, it had a lot of different iterations, but I think this new iteration started around three years ago, two years ago. I had this idea of a post-punk or Midwest emo, very guitar-driven character. And I remember I was like, “Okay, this guy has a mullet and a leather jacket, you know what I mean?” It’s like performance art in a way where you craft this character and I live into it. Then I become that person. Like, this feels very normal now. This is what I wear and if I wear anything else, I feel awkward. I wasn’t dressing like this in 2020, but I was like, “Okay, the next era is this.” It’s based on experiences I had gone through.
ED: Compared to PROM NIGHT and Pity Party, are those two different characters, too?
CW: I’m just trying to tell the same story. I’ve just gotten better at expressing it. But I think since I was a kid, I was trying to tell this immigrant, coming-of-age story about mental illness and being a shame of the family. It’s me trying to say the same thing over and over, and I finally did it. It’s interesting when I made PROM NIGHT, the album was called BAD SON. And I changed the name to PROM NIGHT at the last minute. When I made Pity Party, I can show you the album covers, it was called BAD SON. The pictures said BAD SON and I changed it because I was not ready for BAD SON yet. So I’ve had BAD SON since I was 14. Only now, I’m ready. Let’s put out BAD SON. I’m done with this part of my life. The fact that this album is called BAD SON means it’s the end of that arc.
It’s sort of this guilt that you carry as a first-generation immigrant and the pressure of having to repay your family for making the sacrifice of moving and stuff, you know? It’s like a very common story.
ED: You thought about making this album since you were 14. What made you think you were a bad son at the time?
CW: I think it’s the immigrant experience. I think it’s very common. It’s sort of this guilt that you carry as a first-generation immigrant and the pressure of having to repay your family for making the sacrifice of moving and stuff, you know? It’s like a very common story. But what I didn’t understand at the time was when I first came up with the idea, I was undiagnosed bipolar. So I was obviously acting like a person with bipolar disorder. And I was very mentally ill as a teenager. And I was like an outcast, and I was just not very social getting along with my family or community. As a 23-year-old, I have a very different take on that name now and everything. The core themes of the album stayed the same, but I think the perspective has changed a lot since I was a kid.
Curtis Waters’ bad son era is coming to an end with the release of his album of the same name.
Courtesy photo
ED: You lived life and grew up.
CW: I think just also gaining empathy. When you’re a kid, you’re so in your world. When you’re a teenager, you think, “My life is so hard and everything is happening!” You’re very melodramatic and you think everything revolves around you. I think as you get older, you start seeing your parents as children, as they once were. I’m just realizing how everybody is a child, everybody is just going through their own thing, and everybody was hurt. They’re just working and acting in the programming they had growing up.
ED: When you were younger, you mentioned in songs about not embracing your culture and being Nepali. What was the reason for it?
CW: I didn’t feel like I belonged. When I was younger, I found a lot of people around me to be not very similar to me. I remember I would keep my life a secret from a lot of people that were brown because I just had this thought that they wouldn’t understand me, you know? Just me making music, I think I was very nervous about it.
But you know what’s interesting is after 2020 and “Stunnin’” and all this stuff, there’s so much support from Nepali people, there’s so much support from brown people. For some reason, when you’re a kid, you just don’t realize how not unique you are. When you’re kid, you’re like, “Oh my God, I have bipolar and I make music and nobody gets me!” And then when you get older, everybody is going through the same thing. Everybody has their own story, you know what I mean? And I’m just realizing that there are so many different types of brown people, too, that do understand and relate to you.
For Curtis Waters, art is about the creation.
Callum Walker Hutchinson
ED: People have associated you with being DIY. Why do you want to do everything by yourself?
CW: I really need to have control over my creative vision. And for me, art isn’t about the product for me, it’s about the creation, and it’s fun. So if I’m not making everything, I don’t even want to do it, because it's not fun. Like, you could make “MANIC MAN” and send it to me and say “Hey, can you record this?” I would hate that song. Because I made it, and it’s fun, we did the guitar together, I programmed the drums and we did the bass. I made the artwork, and I shot my girlfriend with my camera. I did that. It is so much fun. I do the graphic design and all that stuff. It just wouldn’t be fun if it wasn’t DIY.
ED: I think most people would say your big break came from “Stunnin’.” What did having a viral TikTok song teach you about the music business and how have you adjusted since then?
CW: Taught me almost everything I know. It taught me a lot of good things, taught me a lot of bad things. The main thing it did is I left school. I don’t work at Tropical Smoothie anymore. I make music all day and I can live and I can support my family. So many great things and I think I was turning a blind eye to when it was happening. But also it made me really anxious. It made me really depressed. It was really bad for me. It showed me how evil the music industry is and how terrible people can be and how exploitative it can be. It taught me a lot of things, but I think I’m at the point now where I’m just like grateful it happened because I’m here in New York shooting a video and I’m like, I get to live my dreams, you know? It's incredible.
If it were easy, it wouldn’t be honest or important. I make music really selfishly, and I just make what I need to make. But so far, I have never regretted being honest.
ED: Your self-titled track “BAD SON” is a seven-minute song where you talk about your parents. Why do you feel comfortable putting that out, because it is so personal?
CW: I don’t. I don’t feel comfortable. I have a lot of anxiety about it. But if it were easy, it wouldn’t be honest or important. I make music really selfishly, and I just make what I need to make. But so far, I have never regretted being honest. “MANIC MAN” to me, when I released it, was too honest. I was very anxious about it. But it helped, and it helped me tell my truth, and it helped everybody talk about it. There are so many things that felt too honest at the time, and now it is so easy to say. Saying I was bipolar when I was a kid was really difficult. But saying it out loud empowers you, and you can move forward. In the same way, me talking about my immigrant experience or not being very financially stable growing up with my family, that’s hard for me to say. That’s very difficult. But it is also a really common story, and it’s also not something to be ashamed about. It’s just sort of how life is when you're an immigrant or just a person. So I think it’s important to say those things.
ED: You say these things on “INNER CHILD” too.
CW: When I’m 50, when I’m 40, my kids can listen to this. I can listen to this. This is such a beautiful and accurate depiction of my life and what I went through. All this shit is real. The other day, I was listening to my album and I cried. I was like, “Oh my God, all this shit I was worried about when I was a kid, I don’t deal with it anymore.” I have a house. I can support my family with this music shit. All the shit I talk about on BAD SON, this celebration is only worth it because we went through so much.
Published on June 23, 2023
Words by Eric Diep
Eric Diep has written for Billboard, Complex, Vulture, HipHopDX, and XXL. He is a freelance journalist based in Dallas and loves shumai.