iPrdcWndrs shares 5 bold truths about music production

Chicago-based music producer iPrdcWndrs has built a reputation for defying expectations. Blending R&B warmth with hip-hop minimalism and Afrobeat rhythms, he creates soundscapes that challenge listeners to reconsider what they think they know about genre. A suburban kid who found his footing on the city’s south side, iPrdcWndrs has worked extensively with artists like ASXA while carving out a distinct sonic identity that prizes experimentation over trend-chasing. In this conversation, he opens up about his creative process, the loss that nearly ended his career, and why the future of music production belongs to those who refuse to copy what’s popular.

How did growing up in the Chicago area shape the way you produce music?

I didn’t actually grow up in Chicago proper. I was born and raised in Bolingbrook, a suburb. I spent the last 15 years on the south side, but I went to Joliet Junior College before transitioning to Columbia. I’m kind of a hybrid, the suburban city kid. When I went off to college, that was the beginning of the internet era. The Cool Kids were the biggest thing happening in Chicago at the time. Leaders were still having block parties over on Stoney Island. Chicago made me a well-rounded producer. I like house music. My brother was a house DJ down at SIU and did parties in Chicago until he stepped away from it. The juke music, there are elements I feel like we can incorporate into modern music now. Chicago is not a one-trick pony. It never has been, it never will be. I like being in that Cool Kids social group. I love the soul side of things and the areas people don’t talk about. You find brilliant artists in those spaces.

What inspires the atmospheres you build in your tracks?

I listen to more up-and-coming producers and artists than stuff on the Billboard Hot 100. I’m in tune with it, but I like to go in the opposite direction of whatever’s trending. Afrobeat caught my ear early on through a SoundCloud producer. The way he does it, you don’t hear the standard drum pattern or that reggae or dancehall percussive element. He takes hard-hitting Chicago-style drums or mainstream Georgia Southern trap drums and blends them with piano percussion and R&B or dancehall melodies. I heard it and thought I had to try this. ASXA is generally one of the people I can send stuff to, and she’ll come to the studio and try something. We had a record we played for people last year, and the reactions were incredible. I’m always listening to what’s happening with younger generations because I’m not 25 anymore. SoundCloud is still a space where you see experimentation with genre. Monte Booker is one producer in Chicago who doesn’t get enough recognition. He takes soulful electronic vibes and puts them together in ways I really respect. He pushes boundaries, and that’s what you need in music.

What do you look for in an artist before collaborating with them?

I try to do as much executive A&R as I can. If I like the music, I try to get a vibe for the person. I reach out, go back and forth, pick their brain. Clubhouse is really good for that because you get to hear how they think and what taps them into their creativity. If we have similarities in what we like or an appreciation for those similarities, it’ll start there. I don’t ever want to force something with anybody. If an artist is looking for a top 40 sound, I’m probably not the person they’re going to want to work with because I don’t like copying what’s popular. It’s ingrained in me, even down to what I wear. I have Cool Pants Collector on my Instagram. I’ll wear an amalgamation of anything that’s not just what’s trending. My music style is daring in that same way. If artists have an appreciation for the things I like and attention to detail, we generally do well together.

How do you keep your identity strong while working with different artists?

I try to get into intimate spaces in their mind. It starts with sending records, but then sometimes texting about what they’re listening to or what they like. If they give me feedback on a beat, which is rare but amazing when they do, I try to understand what I can push to get more out of their creativity. I listen to music like a maniac. If I hear them using standard drum swings or kick drum patterns that aren’t too daring, I’ll suggest trying something different. Let’s put you in a space where you have to tap into that creativity. If it doesn’t work, we can dial it back. I like to challenge people. I’d be the teacher that gives you the quiz on the second day of school just to see where you are and how far I can push you creatively. I like to be the Neptune track on their project where people think this sounds different from everything else, but it works so well.

What do you think is the producer’s most important job?

It’s setting the canvas for them to do what they do best as easily as possible. I can’t sing at all, but I can definitely come up with melodies. I can Kanye West hum something, or generally if I’m listening to something, it’s based on another record I heard. There’s an artist I work with from Virginia. She’s incredible. I knew some of her personal happenings with one of her relationships, and I encouraged her to tap into that emotion because she has to write her emotion into something. With her being good with words and pockets, we could really get something that a lot of people will be able to dive into. Some artists don’t like to be personal. If SZA could have a single determined by her fanbase about being a side chick, you have to be vulnerable. We’re in an era where you’re seeing more discourse about relationships. Find another topic within love to talk about. Find an angle. Think about visually what the video would be like. Generally when I do that, we can figure something out. If they still can’t find anything, I might have ASXA or somebody else put an idea to what I’m saying and shoot it back to them.

What’s the most valuable lesson you’ve learned so far in your career?

I learned this lesson three years ago. It’s not a race. I was under the mindset that I would be where I’m supposed to be by 24 or 25. I’ve had moments where I’ve worked with some names, and then I’ve had moments where it’s been dry. As a producer and creative, there is no age limit on this. I love to see Black people beginning to understand that. If KISS and AC/DC are doing world tours until they’re in the grave, we don’t have to age ourselves out. You don’t have to stop making music once you turn 30, 35, or 40. Killer Mike won a Grammy at almost 50. Clipse, at 48 and 51, had their most successful album ever.

Me and ASXA had been working on music since her project, and we couldn’t find a good sonic for her to sit in. There’s a record called Paradise. Before my father passed, we had this record, which was my attempt at making soul. I always stayed away from it because it felt like copying what’s already been done. I let my father hear it, and he said this doesn’t sound like anything you would do. I told him he only played the Isleys, Carlos Santana, always old school when taking me to AAU practice. I said this is ingrained in me. We set the record to release. He passed two weeks before we were going to release it. The day of his wake was the day the song released. I was mentally not in a place to promote it. It took off. It had 25,000 streams within 24 hours. Two weeks after that, there were about 10,000 streams a day. Then it got picked up by Ebro on his Apple radio show. I was considering selling my stuff and doing something else. That was my reminder that this is not a race you’re trying to beat other people in. You will have your moment when it’s meant for you to have your moment. Looking back at Quincy Jones, realizing he was 55 when they made Thriller, as long as it’s in you and you have a passion for it, do it.

How do you see your sound evolving as your catalog expands?

I think I’ll just become more daring. I’m working on something now. I’m familiar with producers like Sango and Hudson Mohawke. Sango is a national treasure. He blends Afrobeat, R&B, hip-hop, and sometimes Brazilian-Spanish ballet funk into one. I’d like to try my hand at going further and culturally learning. I learned about Indonesian R&B earlier this year. I’ve learned about the Russian R&B scene. I take pride in the fact that people who find me are really interesting people, songwriters, producers, artists. Just listening to the sounds, studying the swings, listening to the percussive elements, how they texture bass lines. I’d like to be a Chicago Kaytranada. I see myself doing more reggae. I want to get into more house, electronic stuff. I have a project where I’m going to make all the production in various genres, showcase artists I work with from here, from other states, from other countries, and just release it. The goal is to see who gravitates to it and understand what people like, what they don’t like. I’ll still do what I want creatively, but it’ll give me an idea of where I can market stuff going forward.

My production style feels like:

A room with Kanye. If you took Kanye, Mike Dean, Pharrell, and Tim and Bob and threw them in a room and made them make a project, that is probably where my sound derives.

When people hear my beats, they should feel:

Confusion. There’s always an influence from something they’ve heard before, and they may not know it. I have an Afrobeat record coming out summer 2026. I have a trappy hi-hat from a Travis Scott song from 12 or 13 years ago with him, Young Thug, and Rich Homie Quan. I sampled the snare and put it in an Afrobeat R&B record, and it blends beautifully. When a listener or another producer says they hear the snares from the Mamacita record, it’s accomplishing.

The most underrated skill for a producer is:

Listening. That’s a skill in life we need to learn. Listening to comprehend versus listening to respond. Sometimes we have to shut up and listen to what the artist is telling us they want and deliver. Sometimes it can be giving them something they didn’t expect but wanted, or giving them exactly what they asked for and doing it in our own way. Less talking, more listening.

Collaboration works best when artists:

Are equally invested. There’s an artist from Virginia named Vesta. What I appreciate about her is when I send her a record and she writes an idea to it, she sends me the rough back with a paragraph with timestamps of where she wants to change something, add something, or completely isolate something. When an artist knows exactly how they want to structure their record, it takes away the extra work of trying different things until something clicks.

The future of producing belongs to creators who:

Stay true to themselves. Conversations around hip-hop right now suggest that because we don’t see anything on the Billboard Hot 100, the genre is dying. I think people are understanding some of the games that get played with these charts, how much money goes into lobbying records. As people are starting to get less emotionally attached to having a hit record and understanding that being in a space where we stop copying somebody who was breaking billboard records, starting to just take inspiration and create our own path from that inspiration, I think you’re starting to see more of that. I may be one of the few that thinks music is in a beautiful space right now because creatives I find constantly are trying to do their own thing and pave their own craft. As long as production and artistry stays in that lane of what do I want to be, what do I want to sound like, what do I want to represent me, I think we’re going to be in a really good space.

iPrdcWndrs can be found on Instagram and Threads at @iprdcwndrs, with TikTok coming in 2026.

This article is based on an interview conducted by Rolling Out.