“I’m Upper Reality, and I make beats, and then I sing over them so people don’t steal them,” my voice wafts over the dented mic like a puff of smoke in this hotboxed venue. People chuckle. I do the same. The set begins. I have always been stingy over my art. My vocals initially acted as a copyright over everything I created, so that if anybody ever wanted to run off with them, they’d have to bring me along. Over time this metastasized into a hyper-insular attitude. All of my music, instrument...
