Imagine dropping your highly anticipated album,
right? But instead of putting it on streaming
platforms at midnight, like literally every other
artist on the planet, you force your fans into
movie theaters. Yeah, you make them sit in the
dark for two hours to watch a film before they
can hear a single track on their phones. I mean,
on paper, it sounds like total commercial suicide.
You know, you're intentionally putting up barriers
between your audience and your music. Right.
It's a massive risk. But it serves as this profound
rejection of how we typically consume media today.
Exactly. And for French rapper, Nick Few, that
audacious gamble resulted in a double diamond
record. Which is just wild. I mean, we are so
accustomed to seeing artists fighting algorithms,
you know, desperately trying to create these
15 second viral clips to capture just a fleeting
moment of attention. But he did the exact opposite.
He demanded total uninterrupted immersion. He
really did. Well, welcome to today's Deep Dive.
We are exploring the extraordinary life and career
of Ken Samaras, who you almost certainly know
better as the French rapper, actor and producer,
Nick Few. It's quite a journey. It really is.
We have an encyclopedic stack of sources here
today. We're talking detailed biographical origins,
an extensive breakdown of his discography and
his foray into film. There's a lot of ground
to cover. For sure. The mission today is to figure
out how a kid who started out in the gritty underground
rap battles of Paris transformed into this massive
cultural juggernaut. Right, a guy who moves millions
of albums. Yeah, and entirely redefines how music
is released to the public, not to mention nonchalantly
acting alongside French cinema royalty. It's
so impressive. So for you listening, this isn't
merely a story about French hip -hop, it's a
masterclass in creative evolution and cross -media
dominance. Yeah, and I think what makes his trajectory
so compelling to study is his ability to constantly
synthesize different parts of culture. How so?
Well, from underground rap... to highbrow cinema,
to mainstream pop, he blends it all without ever
losing his core identity. That's a rare skill.
It really is. He manages to exist in all these
diverse spaces simultaneously, yet he always
remains authentically himself. OK, let's unpack
this because we have to start at the foundation.
Before we can even look at his solo success,
we really need to explore the incubator phase
of his life. The early years are so crucial here.
Right. So Ken Samaras was born in April 1990
in La Trinité, which is a commune near Nice in
the south of France. And his background is this
fascinating mix right from the start. Yeah, he
has a father of Greek descent and a mother of
Scottish descent. Which is pretty unique. It
is. And that heritage gives him diverse multicultural
lens on the world early on. But the real turning
point happens at age 11. The big move. Exactly.
There is a major geographical shift. He and his
family moved from the relatively tranquil, sun
-drenched south of France to the 15th arrondissement
of Paris. And for anyone listening who hasn't
been there, the 15th arrondissement is dense.
It's heavily populated, fast paced, a real urban
district. It's a totally different world. Complete
culture shock for a kid right on the edge of
his teenage years. You know, you're trading the
Mediterranean coast for the concrete intensity
of the Parisian metropolis. And that environment
is where his artistic DNA really begins to form.
Right, but here's the thing, instead of locking
himself in a bedroom and trying to become this
solo prodigy, he takes a highly collaborative
route. He cuts his teeth in rap crews. Yes, we're
talking about forming bonds with childhood friends
to navigate this new urban landscape. He joins
up with a group called DoraCrew. That's with
guys like Framel, Mekra, Twinsers Washington,
and DJ Elite, right? Exactly. And then around
2007, he also becomes a key part of another collective
called 1995. He's out there participating in
open mic duels all around Paris. And we should
note, the open mic circuit in Paris during that
era was incredibly vibrant, but fiercely competitive.
Oh, I can imagine. It operated as a proving ground
where reputations were made or destroyed in literally
You really had to earn the right to hold the
microphone. And the crowd wasn't exactly polite,
right? Not at all. The audience was notoriously
unforgiving. If your delivery was weak or, you
know, your lyrics were unoriginal, the crowd
would let you know immediately. Looking at the
source material, this era feels analogous to,
like, a Silicon Valley startup incubator. Oh,
that's an interesting way to look at it. Right.
Because instead of going it alone and risking
failure in a vacuum, he used the collective energy
of Doll Crew and 1995 to basically workshop his
sound. Like A .B. testing his rhyme? Exactly.
Just like a tech startup launches a beta test
to see if users click a button, Neck View is
testing rhyme schemes and open mics to see if
the crowd reacted. on these rapid feedback loops.
Yeah. If a punchline failed with the 1995 crew,
he scrapped it long before he ever hit a formal
recording studio. And they were prolific, too.
Very much so. With 1995, they drop group EPs
and albums. You've got La Source in 2011, La
Suite in 2012, and the studio album Paris Sub
Minute in 2013. Plus the projects with two crew,
like Sainzou in 2013. Right. So I have to ask,
does having that collaborative safety net give
an artist the confidence to take wild risks later
on. What's fascinating here is that the crew
mentality serves a dual purpose. It functions
as a safety net, yes, but it is primarily accrucible.
Accrucible, I like that. Because building a foundation
in rap battles forces an artist to rapidly sharpen
their lyrical agility. When you were constantly
sparring with your friends and your rivals, your
adaptability just goes through the roof. Because
you have to survive on stage. Exactly. You learn
in real time what makes a crowd react, what builds
tension and... You know, what falls totally flat.
You can't learn that in a vacuum. No. That deep,
visceral understanding of audience psychology
is something you simply cannot learn alone in
an isolated vocal booth. It becomes the foundational
mechanism for his later solo work. So he spends
nearly a decade in that gym, so to speak, before
ever stepping onto the solo court. Which is a
massive developmental period. Yeah. And that
prolonged period means that when he finally steps
out under his own name, the solo star is fully
formed. Here's where it gets really interesting.
Let's break out. In June 2015, Neckvue releases
his debut solo studio album, Fou, and the impact
is staggering. A big part of that is how the
album actually sounds. Because he isn't just
imitating American trap trends. Right. He blends
this highly technical, almost literary French
wordplay using these complex polysyllabic rhyme
schemes with modern, hard -hitting production.
And that synthesis is really key to his breakout.
You know, French rap has this long tradition
of poetic lyricism, and he leans heavily into
that. Referencing classic literature and philosophy.
Yeah, but while writing these contemporary beats,
he brings a lyrical density reminiscent of classic
1990s French hip -hop, but he packages it in
a sonic landscape that feels entirely fresh.
So it appeals to everyone. Basically. Critics
recognize a technical mastery that appeals to
rap purists, while the melodies and hooks are...
you know, accessible enough to capture the mainstream
radio audience. And the numbers completely back
that up. I mean, he wins best urban music album
at the Victoire de la Musique in February 2016.
Which, for those not familiar with the French
music industry, that is basically the equivalent
of the Grammy Awards. It's the pinnacle. Winning
it signifies total acceptance by the mainstream
cultural establishment. And the sales reflect
that, too. Oh, absolutely. The album moves 500
,000 units in France, achieving SNEP diamond
certification. Right. SNEP is the French recording
industry syndicate. And hitting half a million
sales in a country the size of France is the
absolute peak of commercial success. But he barely
pauses to take a breath. He really doesn't. By
December 2016, the very next year, he drops his
sophomore solo album, Cyborg. And that one goes
Diamond too. Delivering two Diamond certified
albums in consecutive years requires just remarkable
creative stamina. It's insane. Most artists spend
three to four years touring. promoting and honestly
simply recovering from a debut of that magnitude.
I have to push back on the logistics of this
though, because how does an artist drop two diamond
certified solo albums back to back, establishing
himself as this standalone star while still releasing
a full group album? Right, the timeline is wild.
It is. Right in the middle of this solo explosion,
in June 2016, he drops the album Destin's Lays
with his childhood group Dole Crew. He kept his
ties. But balancing the gravitational pull of
a solo superstar career with deep rooted childhood
crew loyalty seems nearly impossible. Usually
when someone reaches that stratosphere of fame,
the old friends get left behind in the neighborhood.
If we connect this to the bigger picture, it
highlights a really rare philosophy in the music
industry. Which is? Well, neck few achieves apex
solo fame. but he actively chooses to use his
newly acquired gravity to pull his foundational
community up with him. He doesn't leave them
behind. No, he operates as the rising tide that
lifts his childhood friendships. It represents
a conscious rejection of the typical lone wolf
superstar narrative. That's a great lesson. For
you listening, this serves as a potent reminder
of the value of bringing your community with
you as you rise. Your success is often deeply
intertwined with the people who challenged you
and supported you when you were just starting
out. Neku never forgot the incubator that made
him. Exactly. He builds the entire city block,
and when his specific skyscraper takes off, he
makes sure the whole neighborhood gets an upgrade.
That's a great way to phrase it. Thanks. So,
having conquered the traditional album format,
the charts, and the award shows, The standard
move would be to coast, right? Yeah, you just
keep feeding the machine with standard album
rollouts. But instead, he pivots. He decides
to innovate how we actually consume music. He
transitions from a highly successful musician
to a multimedia innovator. The method of delivery
becomes just as important as the music itself.
And we are talking about his third studio album,
Les Soirs Vagabonds, released in June 2019. The
release strategy for this project was unprecedented.
It really was a shock to the industry. As we
mentioned at the top of the show, instead of
just dropping the album on streaming platforms,
he premiered a companion movie in physical cinemas.
Just a massive logistical undertaking. Over 100
,000 fans bought tickets for a single night screening
across 200 theaters in France, Belgium, and Switzerland.
And this movie premiered just two hours before
the album was made available on your phone. Asking
your audience to commit time, money, and physical
presence to experience a new album visually before
they can passively consume it is a really bold
demand. especially today. Yeah. The companion
film acts as an intimate documentary and like
a visual poem. It chronicles his personal struggles
with creative block, his search for inspiration
and his travels to locations like Japan, Greece
and the United States. It's a deep dive into
his mind. It visually maps the meticulous process
of crafting the music. He's giving the audience
the raw emotional context of the art before they
hear the final polished tracks. It transforms
the release into a cinematic event. He hacks
the culture to make the drop a multi -sensory
collective experience. And it paid off. Oh, massively.
The commercial impact was enormous. Over one
million units sold in France, earning a double
diamond SNEP certification. Double diamond. It's
just incredible. And the features on this album
perfectly showcase his cross -cultural appeal.
He scores a number one hit with the Belgian rapper
Damso on the track Trichure. Which features a
really gritty rhythmic delivery that appeals
directly to hardcore hip hop fans. But then on
the exact same project, he has a number two hit
track called Dawn Universe. featuring Vanessa
Paradis. The juxtaposition of those two collaborations
is just brilliant. Right. Because Vanessa Paradis
is French pop royalty. Her airy melodic vocals
contrast beautifully with his rhythmic flow.
It's such a different vibe from the Damso track.
By bringing her into his sonic world, he seamlessly
bridges the gap between the underground rap scene
he came from and the highest echelons of classic
French pop culture. He proves he can spar with
heavyweights in both arenas. Let's focus on the
mechanics of that theatrical release strategy
for a second, though, because the brilliance
of that two -hour cinematic window cannot be
overstated. It's a fascinating choice. In the
modern streaming era, music has become somewhat
disposable. You know, we listen to half a song
on a playlist, get distracted by a notification,
and skip to the next track. Right. Our attention
spans are so fractured. By forcing the audience
into a theater, he makes them experience the
art collectively in a shared physical space,
fully immersed in the narrative. Without their
phones. Exactly. They have to digest the visual
and auditory journey together before they atomize
into individual headphone listening. It functions
as a powerful statement against the disposable
nature of modern media. Absolutely. You are sitting
in the dark with hundreds of strangers experiencing
this deeply personal art knowing that nobody
outside of this room has heard it yet. It makes
it an event. Yeah, that creates a bond between
the artist and the audience that a simple push
notification on your phone cannot replicate.
And that cinematic album release serves as the
perfect bridge to another phase of his career,
because the visual ambition he showed with Les
Etois Vagabond wasn't out of nowhere. No, he
had been building toward this. He had already
started crossing the boundary into acting and
broader pop culture. His ambitions clearly extended
far beyond the recording studio, and he was willing
to test himself in arenas where he had zero established
credibility. Which takes guts. In 2017, he made
his formal acting debut in a film called To New
Seybar. And this wasn't just a small role. No.
He didn't just get a quick cameo. He starred
opposite the legendary French actress Catherine
Deneuve. Which is mind blowing. The audacity
to step onto a film set for the first time and
your scene partner is one of the greatest cinematic
icons in European history. It's intimidating
just thinking about it. But if you think about
it, controlling a stage with thousands of screaming
fans probably prepares you to hold your own against
a screen legend. It requires a remarkable level
of self -assurance. He refuses to be intimidated
by the medium or the company he is keeping. He
just treats it like another stage. Exactly. He
approaches the craft of acting with the same
intensity he brought to open mic battles. And
his ties to pop and nerd culture run deep as
well. Back in 2015, he wrote and performed a
song for the French version of the Hollywood
film Creed. Right, the Rocky spinoff. Yeah. And
then fast forward to 2019, the same year he drops
Double Diamond's cinematic albums, he jumps into
the world of anime. This is one of my favorite
- He provides the French dubbing for the villainous
character All For One in the smash hit anime
series My Hero Academia. Which is huge in France.
Oh, France is the second largest consumer of
manga and anime in the world after Japan, so
tapping into this is a major cultural touchstone
for his generation. But the contrast is wild.
I have to point out the sheer... tonal whiplash
here. You go from writing gritty poetic rap verses
about Parisian street life to standing in a recording
booth, screaming about stealing anime superpowers.
The tonal shift is hilarious, but it shows he
is not bound by the typical constraints of trying
to maintain a tough, ultra serious hip hop persona.
He's just having fun with it. Yeah, he actively
embraces his genuine interests, whether that
involves high art French cinema or mainstream
Japanese anime. So what does this all mean? I
have to challenge this strategy a bit. Go for
it. When you start stacking up the labels, rapper,
record producer, songwriter, serious dramatic
actor, Hollywood soundtrack contributor, anime
voice actor, is there a risk of a Jack of all
trades, master of none scenario? That's a valid
concern. How does an artist keep all these different
plates spinning without entirely alienating their
core hip hop fan base? Usually fans just want
their favorite rapper to rap. This raises an
important question about how we view creativity
and authenticity. Right. Because for an artist
like Neckfew, these are not side quests or distractions.
They're simply different mediums utilized to
express the exact same creative vision. It's
all coming from the same place. Exactly. Whether
he is acting opposite Catherine Deneuve, voicing
a megalomaniacal anime villain, or spitting bars
in an open mic battle in Paris, the underlying
mechanism is the same performative intensity.
That makes sense. He approaches the anime dubbing
with the identical meticulous dedication he applied
to the syllables on his few album. So the fans
respect the effort. Yes. His core fan base does
not feel alienated because the authenticity remains
intact. They recognize his fingerprint regardless
of the medium. He has effectively trained his
audience to follow his curiosity. training your
audience to follow your curiosity, that perfectly
brings this entire journey full circle. It really
does. We started by looking at a kid born in
the south of France carrying a diverse Scottish
and Greek heritage. He moves to the bustling
15th arrondissement of Paris. And instead of
getting lost in the dense urban sprawl, he finds
his tribe. He finds his crew. He hones his skills
in the highly collaborative pressure cooker of
Parisian rap crews like Do Crew and 1995. And
from that deeply rooted foundation, he evolves
into a multi -diamond selling solo artist. who
consistently refuses to be boxed into a single
genre, a single format, or a single artistic
medium. Exactly. So for you listening, regardless
of whether you're in the music industry, the
tech world, or literally anywhere else, the core
takeaway from NECFU's life is universally applicable.
Absolutely. First, recognize the profound importance
of building your crew. Find a collaborative foundation
of people who will challenge you, workshop your
ideas, and keep you grounded as you grow. You
can't do it entirely alone. No. can't. Second,
have the courage to take the skills you mastered
in one domain and apply them to entirely different
fields. That's the key to longevity. If you want
to avoid stagnation, you have to be willing to
be the rookie again, whether that means acting
opposite a cinema legend or trying a radically
new way to present your work. It requires viewing
your own capabilities without artificially imposed
limits. You know, you build the foundation and
then you allow the structure to take whatever
shape the art demands. Perfectly said. As we
wrap up this deep dive, I want to leave you with
a lingering thought to mull over. Something to
chew on. We've seen how an artist like Nekfu
can completely redefine the album format by turning
it into a collective theatrical movie premiere,
directly pushing back against the passive nature
of streaming. Right. So what does the future
of the album look like? As our collective attention
spans become increasingly fragmented by endless
scrolling, will the musicians of tomorrow be
forced to become full -fledged multimedia filmmakers
just to capture our attention? It's a huge question.
Will the music alone ever be enough again, or
are we entering an era where you have to build
an entire cinematic universe just to be heard?
Something to think about. Thanks for diving deep
with us today.