Rex Wes Perspective on NOT YOUR B$TCH

I've had an incredible journey, evolving from a music enthusiast and globetrotter deeply immersed in the LGBTQ circuit parties to becoming a recording artist known for my distinctive voice, which people have long admired. My passion for dancing and club music has been a significant part of my life and has paved the way for me to venture into the realms of voice overs and music production. Taking the entrepreneurial leap to collaborate with producers and putting my unique voice on dance tracks has been an inspiring part of my journey. Naming my debut track "I'm a Kinkster" added an intriguing layer to my artistic persona, suggesting a celebration of individuality and exploring themes of freedom and self-expression within my music. My story is a testament to the idea that following one's passions and taking risks can lead to fulfilling and unexpected opportunities.

My earliest memory of listening to music? That's a tough question because music has always been a part of my life. From attending Catholic school and singing religious hymns to belting out "Old MacDonald Had a Farm," music was always there. But if I dig deep and truly think about it, my first vivid recollection wasn't what everyone would expect. It wasn't Janet Jackson's "Control" but "Let's Wait Awhile." That's the song that really sticks with me, the first one that resonated deeply and has stayed with me ever since.

I've never really seen myself as a traditional performer or a showy artist in the music scene. I've always been someone who loves to create, whether it's music or other forms of art. So, in one sense, I've always been swimming in a sea of creativity. But, if I had to pinpoint when I decided to dive into music specifically, it would be around the time I started watching "RuPaul's Drag Race." Watching the contestants on the show, seeing many of them launch their music careers afterward—some with great success, others less so—sparked something in me. One day, as I was listening to some of the tracks that didn't hit the mark, it hit me: If they can do it, why can't I? That moment was a turning point for me. It made me think, "I can do this." And so, here I am.

Music truly runs through my veins. It's been a growing passion throughout my life, especially during my 20s and 30s, a time when I was immersed in the vibrant clubbing scene of New York City. I frequented iconic venues like Twilo, Roxy, and Palladium, absorbing the beats of legendary DJs like Junior Vasquez and Jonathan Peters, and DJ Ovahness. My love for music deepened through my travels to major circuit parties across the globe—from the White Party in Palm Springs to international celebrations in Miami and Canada. These experiences cultivated my appreciation for a specific sound, the kind that propels you to dance without inhibition. I wanted to create dance club music—a bouncy track, a bottle of cunty track. You can label it however you wish, but at its core, it's music that makes you want to move. That's the essence of the tracks I strive to produce.

This track, as I've hinted before, falls squarely into the dance genre, but it's infused with a bit of a bouncy, cunty attitude, reflecting those late-night calls and texts—a "What's up?" from someone who assumes they're saved in your phone, that they've earned that privilege. I wanted to convey through this music that being kind doesn't mean you're weak or can be easily played, manipulated, or treated as less than. It's a declaration of self-worth. The essence of this track is about knowing your value, asserting it amidst the beats and rhythms that compel you to move. It's not just dance music; it's a statement—I know my worth.

Throughout my music, which is deeply rooted in the dance genre, I explore themes that might initially come across as brash or as if I'm full of myself. But at its core, it's all about an attitude of freedom—understanding, loving, and being true to who I am without feeling the need to apologize for it. I've learned that taking risks and believing in oneself is crucial. You have to tune out everyone else and focus on doing your own thing. My music is a reflection of my personal journey towards self-love and acceptance, irrespective of anyone else's opinions. It's about taking risks and finding success on my own terms, defining success in a way that's meaningful to me, not necessarily by society's standards. This could mean releasing music even when I doubted my capabilities. So, essentially, my music delves into the themes of taking risks and just going for it, embracing my individual journey of self-discovery and asserting my worth through the beats and lyrics.

Honestly, I hesitate to dictate how anyone should feel when they listen to my music. The tracks I create are deeply personal to me, yet I hope they transcend that personal connection to mean something special to others as well. When someone listens to my music, my greatest wish is for it to resonate with them in any form—whether it makes them want to dance, smile, giggle, or even just think, "F***, I'm fabulous." It's all about that moment of connection, where my journey and the listener's intersect, creating a shared experience that, I hope, uplifts or inspires them in some way.

Describing my music to someone who hasn't heard it before is quite the challenge. Imagine a fusion of pounding drums, intricate percussion, all wrapped up in an upbeat, high-energy package. There's a slightly sinister edge to it, too, adding depth and complexity. But above all, my tracks are anthems of empowerment. They're designed to uplift, to energize, and to embolden anyone who listens. So, if you're diving into my music for the first time, prepare for a journey that's not just about the sounds and rhythms, but about invoking a powerful sense of self, resilience, and unabashed freedom.

Honestly, picking a favorite song I've made is easy; it's my latest track, "I'm Not Your B." Unfortunately, the song didn't gain as much attention as I had hoped, mainly because it was released right before the pandemic hit, and I was at a loss about how to promote it during such a tumultuous time. But it holds a special place in my heart because I wrote it during a period when I was pushing myself to heal and grow, with the incredible support of my producer and DJ Pluto, who truly believed in me and understood the depth of what I was trying to express.

I had been through a traumatic experience and was determined to reclaim my power. This song was my anthem, a declaration not just to the world but also indirectly to the person who caused me harm, that they hadn't defeated me and never would. It was a powerful moment of self-affirmation, stating loud and clear that I value myself and am worthy of every effort it took to regain my self-worth after that ordeal.

This song reminds me that I'm going to be okay, that I don't have to settle for anything less than I deserve. It's a testament to the journey of finding strength and value within myself, and that's why it's my favorite—it encapsulates a crucial turning point in my life.

It's funny you ask because I often find myself pondering whether I want to continue making music. Do I want to keep at it? Will it pay off in the end? I took a certification course at the Clive Davis Institute through NYU Tisch on music essentials to gain a better understanding of the industry, not just the creative side but also the business aspects—how to make money from music and ensure fair compensation for everyone involved, from the initial creative sparks to the final product.

So, what drives me to keep making music? Yes, I'm seeking success, but more than that, it's just fun. I enjoy it. There's still a part of me that's cautious about pushing into new areas of music production, especially since I don't really sing in the traditional sense. Instead, I use my voice as an instrument, with the beats crafted to bring it to life. My process often starts with my voice as the foundation, and then the beat is built around it. I want to challenge myself to adapt my voice to beats that are already created, which is a bit daunting to me.

But at the heart of it all, making music is exhilarating. It allows me to step into my alter ego, to embrace a side of myself that's perhaps more daring, more unabashed. It's this aspect of music creation that feeds my soul, letting my alter ego flourish and pushing me to expand my horizons. That's the real reason I want to continue making music—it's a playground for my alter ego, a space where I can explore, grow, and, ultimately, have a great time doing what I love.

It might sound cliche or perhaps a bit cocky, but I don't want to be compared to anybody else. I just want to be Rex Wes. I believe I'm unique in my own right, with a voice that doesn't mirror anyone else's. I'm not out here trying to emulate others or match someone else's sound. I want my music to be distinctly mine—my voice, my sound, my attitude, and my experiences all interwoven through my tracks. I hope that listeners can come to understand and know me for who I am: an artist who loves to create music that gets people dancing, brings joy, inspires, and encourages. I aim to be a beacon of possibility, showing others that if I can follow my dreams and carve out my niche, they can do it too.

Before venturing into the art world, I launched a successful T-shirt brand. This endeavor really set the stage for what was to come, catching the attention of celebrities and laying the groundwork for my journey into entrepreneurship. Following the success of the T-shirt line, I expanded into the retail business, opening my own art store where people can purchase Milton Wes Art. This progression from fashion to art reflects my diverse interests and talents, showcasing my ability to navigate different creative spaces. Each step of the way has been instrumental in shaping my path not only as an artist but as a businessman, enriching my experiences and preparing me for a multifaceted career.

Choosing the most memorable response to my work is difficult because I've received various kinds of feedback over the years. Often, people tend to be nice, offering praise rather than the constructive criticism I need to improve. This has led me to make a lot of mistakes due to not receiving the feedback that would truly help me grow. However, the responses to my music have been uniquely impactful.

A memorable moment happened one summer when I was with someone who was listening to my dance track. Suddenly, he mentioned he had heard the song before. I was puzzled, wondering how that was possible, especially since it was just after Gay Pride in New York. He explained that he genuinely recognized my track because a DJ had played it during a mix at the event. That realization was a surprise and a thrill—knowing my music was out there, being played by DJs, and people were enjoying it.

The track "I'm Not Your B" has elicited a range of reactions. It's a bold statement that not everyone is prepared for, but it resonates with many who understand and appreciate the message. It feels great to receive such positive feedback, acknowledging the coolness of the track.

Furthermore, some individuals have been impressed by my willingness to take risks, diving into music production without fully knowing how to start but ultimately overcoming the obstacles. Now, having my music available on all streaming platforms is a significant achievement for me. This journey of creating and sharing my music, facing challenges head-on, and receiving acknowledgment from both acquaintances and strangers alike has been incredibly rewarding.

My scariest experience while pursuing music was navigating the vast and often overwhelming business side of the industry. When I first started, I was filled with questions and uncertainties. How do I create music that resonates? What if I ask for help and it's not received well? How will my music be distributed? What are all the necessary steps and legalities involved? It felt like a huge mountain of unknowns standing between me and my dream.

I realized that talent and passion alone weren't enough to cut through the complexities of the music business. This realization hit me hard, and for a time, it paralyzed me with fear. I feared making mistakes that could potentially derail my career before it even had a chance to take off. I feared being seen as naive or unprofessional by my peers and potential collaborators.

But instead of letting this fear consume me, I decided to face it head-on. I acknowledged that I didn't have all the answers, but I was willing to learn. I enrolled in courses about the music industry to better understand the business aspects, from copyright laws to distribution channels and beyond. This education was invaluable. It not only demystified many of the processes I was so anxious about but also gave me a solid foundation to confidently navigate my career.

Through this journey, I learned that asking for help is not a sign of weakness but of strength. It shows a commitment to growth and a recognition that music, like any art form, is not just about creation but also about connection and collaboration. Today, I can confidently say that confronting my fear of the business side of music has been one of the most empowering steps I've taken in my career.