Some artists are shaped by the cities that raise them. Others are shaped by the people who pour into them. For 1TakeVick, it’s both.
Born in High Point, North Carolina and raised in Atlanta, his foundation was built long before he ever stepped into a recording booth. Sports defined his early years. Baseball came first, followed briefly by football, but basketball became the long-term discipline—running from seventh grade through high school. Practices, conditioning, repetition. The rhythm of sneakers on hardwood. The quiet understanding that growth comes from showing up every day, even when no one’s watching.
When school let out, summers belonged to Winston-Salem. At his grandparents’ home, mornings started early. His grandfather believed in structure, and he taught it through the soil. Planting rows. Picking vegetables. Working through heat and humidity without complaint. Agriculture isn’t glamorous work, but it teaches patience in a way few things can. Seeds don’t rush. Growth can’t be forced. That lesson stayed with him. Development takes time.
Music was never distant. His grandmother sang, as did her siblings, and instruments were part of the household atmosphere. Sound wasn’t background noise—it was alive. He gravitated toward drums early, drawn to rhythm and timing, to the physicality of percussion. Long before he was writing verses, he understood cadence. He understood pocket.
In school, his sharpest weapon wasn’t athletic—it was literary. Reading and writing came naturally. Essays felt less like assignments and more like space to think out loud. As he got older, that gift deepened. Experience gave it weight. At eight years old, he lost someone close to him—a ten-year-old taken by cancer. That kind of loss doesn’t just hurt; it rearranges perspective. It introduced urgency. It made the idea of “later” feel fragile. Impact, he realized early, isn’t something to postpone.
His ears were shaped by range. Earth, Wind & Fire. The Isley Brothers. Soul music rich with harmony and musicianship. Hip-hop followed closely—Outkast’s innovation, T.I.’s precision, Jeezy’s hunger, Ludacris’ charisma, Lil Wayne’s wordplay. Even Bob Marley found a place in the rotation. Genre was never a boundary; it was a toolbox. From each artist, he absorbed tone, message, structure, freedom.
Among modern voices, J. Cole and Kendrick Lamar stand tallest in his personal hierarchy of influence. Not because he sounds like them—he doesn’t—but because they challenged the way he thought. They proved rap could stretch beyond surface-level bars and into layered perspective. That lesson took root.
Still, music didn’t become a pursuit until later. 1TakeVick began recording at 25, stepping into artistry with lived experience already behind him. There’s a difference between writing because it’s trendy and writing because it’s necessary. His approach leans toward the latter.
His sound sits at the intersection of conscious rap and Southern grit, but it refuses neat comparison. The delivery bends in unexpected places. Flows shift. Patterns break and reassemble. There’s clarity in his voice, but the structure is unorthodox—purposefully so. It’s Southern in texture, reflective in substance, and rhythmically daring. He isn’t chasing resemblance; he’s carving distinction.
Much of his catalog was recorded between North Carolina and Georgia—at KickBoyz Studio in Greensboro, sessions with Donny Haze on Atlanta’s south side, and work with Wavy Jay at Break My Track Studios off Cascade Road. Each space contributed to the evolution, but the through-line remained his own pen and perspective.
Despite growing up around movement and community, he wasn’t known for idle hanging out. Time was usually spent on the field, in the gym, or close to home in Silver Creek on Georgia’s western side, kicking it outside with day-one friends. When he finally got a car, malls like Cumberland, Perimeter, and Arbor Place became teenage landmarks. He laughs about being banned from Arbor Place in his younger years—only to return once as an adult, walking through without issue. Growth shows up in subtle ways.
As of February 13, his latest single, “Yōtei,” is available on all platforms—a title that hints at intention and forward motion. It serves as a preview of a larger body of work expected this April. The upcoming album remains untitled for now, but anticipation is already building. Listeners are encouraged to revisit his earlier projects in the meantime; the progression is part of the story.
Above all, 1TakeVick moves with gratitude. Family remains central. His son stands as daily inspiration—a living reminder of purpose beyond music. He credits collaborators and confidants like Spook, WavyBanx, Eman, Trip, Wavy Jay, Korron, and many others who have offered both creativity and counsel along the journey.
