Tone Glow 220: ezcodylee

An interview with the LA rapper about the inauthenticity of modern rage rap, the "stunt and die" ethos, and the punk bands that inspired his new album, 'STUNT 4 LIFE' (2026)

ezcodylee

Photo by Keegan James Hurley. Edit by Declan Fitzgerald.

Ethan Codylee Graham (b. 2004) is a rapper from California. Under the name ezcodylee, he’s released a slew of albums during the 2020s, the newest of which is the excellent rap-rock venture STUNT 4 LIFE (2026). Building on ideas he formed on Stunt and Die 3 (2025), this new album—one part of a double album, the second disc forthcoming—folds his love for punk music into contemporary rage rap. Joshua Minsoo Kim spoke with ezcodylee on April 2nd, 2026 via Zoom to discuss his “stunt and die” ethos, his upbringing in the church, and the ideas that animated his new album.

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Joshua Minsoo Kim: Were you born and raised in California?

ezcodylee: I’m born and raised in South Central LA, between South Central and Inglewood, but I went to school in the Hollywood area for most of middle school and high school. I got a lot of insight just spending time in some of the richest and poorest neighborhoods in LA.

Having experienced both of those extremes, do you have any memories of being radicalized by what you saw?

Where I lived, I was seeing families worrying about violence and gang culture; they didn’t want their children to fall into that, so they’d send them to schools in different neighborhoods. But then in those “better” neighborhoods, like in Hollywood, there was still drugs and pedophilia and other stuff you had to avoid. There’s a lot of trauma and oppression that you have to face, regardless of how presentable the place you’re in is; every place comes with its own given problems. Still, I had friends who struggled with not knowing what they were going to have for dinner, and then I had friends who complained about what restaurant their family was going to. Seeing these different levels of problems was so interesting to me. Like, I’d have friends in high school who’d complain about how much they’d make at work, and then there were friends back home whose parents couldn’t even get a job… y’know what I mean?

Was your family super into music? Were they supportive of you becoming a rapper?

Very much so. My mom always loved music and was very big on dancing and singing—that was her personal hobby. And my father was a rapper himself. My next-door neighbor was this man named Uncle Ben. I didn’t realize until I was older that he was the uncle of Kanye West, and Kanye used to spend a lot of time in our neighborhood whenever he came to LA. My grandma went to school in NorCal for music, and my uncle was one of the final four contestants on a season of The Voice. So there’s all these things that influenced me to do music, especially church. My whole life, I kind of got forced to perform (laughter). Every time there was a concert or talent show at church, I was the oldest in my age group so I’d be asked to facilitate stuff. And I’d always be the finale of whatever event we put on. So when I was like 7 years old, I started writing raps because I knew that I’d need a rap ready for Sunday at church.

What rap were you listening to back then? And what was the first thing you wrote?

I actually remember it—my first rap was written to the instrumental for Wale’s “Ambition.” Lil Wayne was always my biggest inspiration though. He was my biggest inspiration in terms of wanting to rap and what a good rapper sounded like. I always liked Kanye for the music, for the whole [of his artistry], but Lil Wayne was always the coolest rapper, and I still kind of think that. He could get on any beat and spaz. I used to always do flows like early Wayne and early Drake.

Are we talking about Da Drought 3 (2007) and Tha Carter III (2008)? What era of Wayne?

Mainly Tha Carter III, Tha Carter IV (2011), and No Ceilings (2009)—that era.

Can you tell me about these things you did at church?

So the church would have some form of talent show or recital—just something to have kids involved in the arts. I would always like to have my own twist on it by bringing raps in, and I would literally make these verses about God and Jesus and whatever (laughter). They were super surface level, like, “I love God, I love the angels” and shit like that (laughter). It was super fun. I’m not super religious myself but I’m very involved in my church—that’s my family. I love church in the church environment; as a non-religious person, I would still recommend that people have some type of community and support system. And I know that some churches can be toxic, but nothing can replace that camaraderie.

I’m assuming your church is predominantly Black?

Yeah, and it’s super progressive. Church is where I formed a lot less religious opinions than societal ones, like truly loving your neighbor and not being judgmental, knowing how to treat people with respect and how to walk every day in an honest-to-God, positive way. Like, making sure that we’re all waking up each day trying to be a better person, even if it’s just by a fraction of a percent.

You mentioned all this stuff about your family being musical. Do you have any specific memories with your family that you feel were important? Maybe this was mostly at church, but I’m wondering what else comes to mind.

That’s a great question. There’s always been great moments. My cousin was so excited when she first got her Nokia flip phone. She downloaded ringtones and it was shit like Soulja Boy and I thought that concept was so cool, that a specific song would play when someone called you. My mom had this iPod that, once she was able to get an iPhone, she gave to me and my sister. We listened to these songs nonstop, and she had us when she was a young age so the stuff she downloaded was Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, and Rihanna—all the women’s club music of the early 2010s. I had a lot of unsupervised access to the internet when I was younger; I had a computer and I’d go on LilWayneHQ and LimeWire. Since I was a baby, I was a big fan of music, and I was super connected to it. No matter if I was at church, at school, or at home, the only thing that was really catching my attention and that I felt passion for was music, whether it was live or an mp3; nothing else could give me that joy. I wanted to be able to contribute to music in my own way because of that upbringing.

Do you remember the first song you wrote that you were really proud of, where you were like, okay this is getting more serious.

That’s a great question. I got my heart broken really bad when I was a freshman in high school. That was the first time I wrote some music that wasn’t the low-substance trap stuff where I was trying to sound cool and mimicking n*ggas like Future and Thug and Lil Wayne—I was actually talking about stuff I was going through. It was really cathartic, and I really needed that moment for myself. That’s probably the pivotal moment when music went from a form of passion to a form of true expression.

Early on you’re already collaborating with a bunch of other people. On Untalented 3 (2021) you’ve got Prettifun, and then Stunt and Die (2022) you’ve got Skaiwater and ninexteen and all these other artists. How did you initially connect with them?

I never really stopped using the internet. I was using it as a music listener, and especially during quarantine, I got into group chats and online communities, and that’s where I met these people. I met Skaiwater through Lancey Foux fan pages, I met Prettifun through Yubo group calls, and artists like ninexteen I met through Discord. And artists like Midwxst, I was such an early fan that I was able to have great dialogue through Instagram DMs. He gave me a chance and listened to my music. So I was always active in the music community; I always used to DM people, like ImDontai and these people, really early into their reaction careers. I was really big on being part of an underground rap scene, first as a fan, but the more I get into the music, the more it became a network. So these were all people who naturally became a part of my world as friends.

This kind of relates to what you were saying earlier with church—you’re making sure that you can find this community no matter what. You’re making a real effort to reach out to these people and build something.

Very much so. I had a conversation with Skai recently where they said that I’m gonna be the torchbearer of the underground scene. And it wasn’t just as a way to praise or compliment me, but an acknowledgement that I take the initiative to do these things. I’ve been booked like twice, but most of the other shows that me and Slayr and Pretti have done have been thrown by me; I’ll always host them, set everything up, get in contact with the venue, and I’ve been very diligent about, “If I don’t do this, who will?” I’m very heavy on being some type of provider for spaces I love and feel passionate about. I try to make sure that everyone’s taken care of and is excited. That’s what the whole stunt thing is about—it’s about getting people to live life on the edge and try to do things they wouldn’t do otherwise.

I know you played a show with Snooper earlier this year, which I thought was cool. What was your first show?

My first actual show was in December 2021. I threw that myself. It was me, yvngxchris, and a few others. It was decent. It was my first experience, and with every show there are challenges and things you learn. That was what showed me my love and passion for performing; that’s when music matters most for me. I was the final performer of the night, and there was probably like 10 people left in the audience when the peak of the night was like 100, but I still had one of the best times I’ve ever had. To turn up with those 10 people… it felt like this was what music was all about.

I love everything you’re saying because so many punk bands in the ’80s and ’90s have similar stories of just doing what they could with the resources they had, and they were teenagers too.

I’m very big on not sitting around and waiting for it. The whole “stunt and die” motto is about living like there’s no tomorrow. I try to implement that in some type of way, every day of my life. I take that initiative to do something that I won’t regret.

Can you talk to me about your first experiences with punk music? How’d you get into that?

Funny enough, it was mostly just stuff in pop culture—Disney XD and MTV. Through their theme songs and bumper music and advertisements, it unlocked a whole new world for me. South Central Los Angeles, you’re not hearing much punk or alternative music, so it was through television where I was like, “Wow, this shit is so cool. It’s intense, it’s fast, it’s loud.” It was a third-eye-opening thing for me. I was someone who always gravitated towards music, so these shows would play and the actual show itself, while I’d be entertained by them, I was actually paying attention to these theme songs. That was what initially won me over, theme songs from shows Kick Buttowski and Ridiculousness by Rob Dyrdek [Editor’s Note: the theme song for Ridiculousness is a cover of Devo’s “Uncontrollable Urge”]. So that’s what introduced me to punk music at an early age.

Growing up, I got into SoCal stuff from people. And then there was the radio playing surface-level punk or pop punk stuff like Green Day. That’s when I started understanding that there was more of an actual culture and history—this wasn’t just shit that played on my TV. I got really into Pennywise in 2024. I got really into punk music both old and modern, to get more of an understanding of it; I was always a fan, but once I got the idea to implement it in my music, I wanted to be as true as possible to the culture and its origins. But that was also so I could break the rules—you have to know them first in order to break them. So I did a lot of research and deep diving. I wanted to be progressive and unorthodox.

What does that mean for your own music? Obviously you did some of this on Stunt and Die 3 (2025) but your new album, STUNT 4 LIFE (2026) has more of this punk influence folded in. And on tracks like “VOMIT !” you say that other rappers are being “punk for an aesthetic.”

The biggest thing to me is comprehension and ethos. I know a lot about punk culture but I’m far from knowing it all. I’ve grown a deep understanding of its purpose, so when I’m mixing it with modern-day trap and rage, I know there’s gonna be a lot of overlap but also a lot that gets me conflicted. My goal has always been to try and stay true to the heart of it while being honest to myself. There’s a lot of things in both the punk and rap worlds that I don’t agree with. The reason I became such a fan of both these things is because they really inspire me and because I feel at home with the music, but I never wanted to make it a point where I was being disingenuous and just trying to serve an aesthetic; I’m not trying to just make fans happy, I’m trying to be true to myself. These genres clash on topics like consumerism and other ideologies, but I’ve never been far left or far right with anything in life. When I’m blending and bending things, I’m trying to be authentic to myself instead of checking off boxes.

It’s interesting you don’t identify with the left since you hate on Trump on the album, you say “Free Palestine, Free Gaza,” and I saw that you were beefing with this guy online who was defending Charlie Kirk.

Oh, I’m a strong leftist, but I more so meant that I think human beings always see things in black or white. I never wanted to be considered a “punk” or a “rapper” because I think these labels take away from who we are as individuals. The most honest representation of who I am is Ethan Codylee Graham. That tells you more about who I am than just a “punk” or a “leftist.” But yeah, when I was saying “left or right,” I didn’t mean that in a political way—I meant it like “black or white.”

I wanted to ask what it’s like for you to make music that’s meant for moshing. Going to a punk show is different from a rap show with regards to moshing, and I’m curious about your experiences with that and how you think about your own music in this context.

I’ve been to both hardcore shows and rap shows and the thing for me is that I’m intentionally trying to make a crowd that’s loving on each other. The term “moshing” even stems from this misunderstood quote about Bad Brains and kids mashing into each other. I kind of apply that for my shows. I don’t want people to be afraid of the conceit of a mosh pit. What it’s supposed to be is a bunch of people coming together and having fun, whether that means you’re a girl or guy or something outside that or in between. I want you to have fun and enjoy the music. My thing is, as long as you’re having as much fun as you can, you’re moshing in my eyes. That’s why I like to call it “stunting” more than anything else.

Do you see yourself in the lineage of bands like Bad Brains and a more contemporary group like Soul Glo? I’m wondering what it’s like for you to be a Black man in this lineage of rage doing stuff that, while indebted to Playboi Carti and Opium, is still interested in punk music. And I’ve never really felt a connection between punk music and, say, OsamaSon, but it was cool hearing your music and seeing a clearer throughline.

I love Soul Glo. And thank you for saying that; you viewing it that way is part of the goal of what I do. I always reach these barriers where people have harsh takes, whether it’s hating on my political ideologies and criticizing the depth, or the fact I don’t play an instrument, which I don’t see happen with my white contemporaries. “Oh, he doesn’t play the guitar,” or “Oh, he wasn’t making this kind of music years ago.” I’ve always seen discourse as positive because it allows me to have a platform to express myself. I call myself a punk as much as I call myself a n*gga, but people only have a problem with one of them—and it’s not the n-word, y’know what I mean?

All of this is shit where it used to affect me heavily, but I had to set it aside because it’s all only getting me closer to an audience. At the end of the day, people can love it or hate it, but at least they’re listening. And I have a strong understanding of my goals. As long as another kid is hearing me say “Free Palestine” or “Free Gaza” or “Fuck Trump,” I’m grateful that it’s even being heard. As for my artistry, I make the music I make for me and my fans, not anybody who refuses to be one. I have to keep myself in check with not having to prove or disprove what genre or culture I belong to; as long as I’m true to self and my inspirations are what I’m interested in my own life, we’re good.

On “FAMILY FIRST !” you say, “I ain’t tryna sound like them oldheads, they dated/I ain’t tryna sound like the shit you got on your playlist.” And then you diss Che and RainingLol. What are these other rappers doing that’s bad that you’re avoiding? What’s the contention there?

It’s the lack of authenticity. I pay my fair share of homage and take a lot of inspiration, but I also break rules and do things untraditionally. When I say things like that, it’s about artist integrity and authenticity. A lot of artists now are just playing into an aesthetic without being true to the source material, without having enough depth of knowledge for what they’re drawing from. More often than not, people are making caricatures of these cultures that have a lot of purpose; these aren’t just for people to mock or use to come off different or unique in their scene, especially when so many people are doing it.

I like the music, don’t get me wrong. I’ll say it first: Che is a great artist. Raining is, I guess, pretty good at what he does. But I still don’t think these people are being authentic to the culture. I can’t speak for them because I don’t know them, but that’s what bleeds off to me in their art. Like, I like a lot of the music that’s coming out of the rage scene right now, but there’s a lack of inspiration from anything outside the Opium discography. I’d love to see a take on rage that was inspired by reggae or gospel or old pop music—just any genre that’d bring a fresh air to it instead of Whole Lotta Red (2020) six years later (laughter).

I wanted to ask about the album cover, which is an edit of a skateboarding photo. What’s your relationship with skateboarding?

It was just always a big inspiration on me—I mentioned Kick Buttowski, but also Zeke and Luther and even Jackass. Skating and stunting are so important to me and why I even got here with my music and my way of life. I don’t skate, but one day I’ll have to pick it up; I just haven’t yet.

I like how the intro to the album also has a quote from SLC Punk! (1998). When’d you first see that movie?

About a year back when I started working on this album. I wanted to get deep into punk media, and I felt like I related to that movie heavily with this concept of how gatekeep-y a culture can be, and this idea of who’s a poser and who’s not. At the end of the day, if you’re pushing what matters to you forward, the label that follows behind doesn’t matter as much.

How’d you get in touch with the Happy Death Men for “DIEHARD !”? I’m curious about that and just all the different punk and rock music instrumentals on the album. Are these samples at all?

There are actually no samples on this album. All of it stems from executive production from me and Chris Marek. All the guitar riffs and drum patterns were coming from songs that inspired me when I was diving into this corner of music. Happy Death Men came about because we both opened for Snooper back in December, and when I was looking for a punk band to shed light on, I didn’t wanna include any predictable features. I wanted to collaborate with an obscure, underground band that impressed me throughout the process, and Happy Death Men took the cake. When I saw them perform with Snooper, it was one of the most surreal experiences I’ve ever had—I needed to shed light on them and the scene they’re building in Portland.

Can you tell me about the specific bands and songs that you were inspired by while working on this album? It’s interesting to me that you have music on the album that’s more indebted to hardcore or skate punk and then you have some pop punk songs too; the flattening of all these different styles of punk that then gets folded into your music is cool to hear.

There was inspiration from Turnstile, Snooper, Fleshwater, Title Fight, Bad Brains, The Story So Far, Mannequin Pussy, Angel Du$t. I was listening to so much music while making this album, and we were inspired by artists and albums more broadly instead of specific songs where we’re trying to lift specific melodies or something. And I wanted to contextualize all this in rage. Rage has its own musical techniques, chord progressions, and sounds that I very much love—artists like Ken Carson, OsamaSon, Lancey Foux, PrettiFun, and Carti of course. And their producers, too. A lot of production doesn’t get enough credit for what a genre actually is.

Is there anything we didn’t talk about today that you wanted to mention?

Stunt and Die is the series that I’ve been building out the past few years, and it’s about this mentality and style of music. STUNT 4 LIFE is actually just one half of Stunt and Die 4. STUNT 4 EVER will be the second disc, and I wanna take even more liberties with that and have more collaborations. That’s what I’m currently working on and I’m excited for what’ll come out.

There’s a question I end all my interviews with and I wanted to ask it to you. Do you mind sharing one thing you love about yourself?

At my darkest hour, I chose to keep going. And I use that as a source of inspiration for other people who’ve reached similar times—I want them to keep going, too. “Stunt and Die,” “Stunt 4 Life,” “Stunt Rock,” all this stuff and this whole movement—it all stems from when I was suicidal. It was an awakening, in a way. The fact that I turned this into a community and culture—something that kids can wake up to and refer to so they can live their day to the fullest extent, that means the world to me. There’s nothing I’d replace for that.

ezcodylee’s newest album, Stunt 4 Life, is out now on various streaming platforms.

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Thank you for reading the 220th issue of Tone Glow. Stunt and die.

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