Artist Spotlight: Oatmello

Residing in the Pacific Northwest, Oatmello's mellow instrumental beats mirror the city's lowkey demeanor and climate - laid back, relaxed, with a sort of cozy, chill atmosphere. With roots in Portland, Oregon, Oatmello mixes instrumental beats in layers that sometimes feel texturally unexpected but always engaging.

The moniker Oatmello came to be when the artist and his wife were strolling across Mississippi Avenue in Portland one morning. With no particular context and almost out of the blue, his wife encouraged him to call his new music project to be "Oatmello." Being an impactful supporter to his musical career, he still looks to her for offering constructive criticism on the work he produces.

"She has a great sense of humor and gives me all sorts of great ideas for things; I always consult her on new songs," says Oatmello. "She's brutally honest and dislikes 90% of what I make, but when she likes something, it's a really good sign."

Of the moniker coined that day, the artist notes how the name resonates with his creative endeavors and his work, capturing the vibes and mood of his music - there's a sense of irreverence and something that feels hearty while remaining classic.

Even before the name "Oatmello" was realized, the artist knew he'd pursue music at a very young age, recalling his first albums being Magical Mystery Tour and Raffi's singable songs. As a child he became enamored with the small Fisher-Price portable record player that his parents gifted him, hauling the gadget around from place to place. Growing up, he became a fan of hip-hop in the '90s, listening to the likes of Wu Tang and G Funk - he would later draw inspiration from such pioneering artists using their work as a benchmark for the hip-hop infused beats he would create as Oatmello. 

"I wanted to jam and make my own music, not just learn how to recite others works perfectly. It really frustrated me. When I was a teenager I discovered beat making and became captured by it. I remember the moment in that first year of making beats where I thought to myself, 'this is something I could be happy doing for the rest of my life'." 

"I watched a documentary on Sumi-e once, which is a form of Japanese brush painting. The idea is that the brush stroke is quick to make but it takes hundreds, sometimes thousands, of tries to get the right stroke. That somehow stuck with me, and I have a similar attitude about making music."