iLoveMakonnen Reflects on the Impact and Aftermath of “Tuesday” a Decade Later

Geographic and temporal distance often change your perspective on a situation, as the memory shifts through a kaleidoscope of newfound details and unearthed emotions. But still, a decade later, iLoveMakonnen is steadfast in his belief that nobody was more shocked than him about the success of “Tuesday.”

It didn’t matter that Rae Sremmurd and other industry heads immediately resonated with the freestyle when Makonnen popped out of the recording booth at Mike WiLL Made-It’s studio on the north side of Atlanta in 2013. Even when he linked with Metro Boomin and Sonny Digital to fully flesh out the song’s production in the Spring of 2014, and they told him the track had “one of the easiest beats they ever made,” the intoxicating earworm they had crafted still wasn’t destined to take off the way it did—at least in Makonnen’s mind. No, the now 35-year-old Atlanta native’s wildest dreams never included the immediate uproar and fame that came next.

By the time Makonnen dropped the original version of “Tuesday” on Soundcloud in June 2014, his traction in the city’s creative scene was slowly coming along, but certainly not at the rate that he liked. He often found himself making songs from his own room, becoming DIY out of necessity. (He was on house arrest and probation for the accidental shooting of his best friend Anthony Godoy in 2007). His self-produced brand of hazy, heartbreak jams—tinged with vocal out-of-left-field stylings that turned the trap house into an opera house—had captured attention from a range of Atlanta’s tastemakers, from the likes of Mike WiLL and Awful Records’ Father. There was an easy fluidity in which he moved between sounds and scenes: his croons could be about lost love or cooking up under watchful eyes, and the patented eccentricity would still shine. But existing within multiple spaces made it difficult to break out and make it big. Quiet, earnest desperation was setting in for Makonnen: “I was like, ‘I’m just so tired of working,’” Makonnen said, recalling his thoughts after sharing the rough copy of the track with Mike WiLL, to which the super producer implored him to keep grinding. “If y’all knew my life, and all that shit that I’m going through? Nigga, that’s a hit right there. I don’t know what else to do.”

What followed was one of the clearest examples of the mythical “Drake-stimulus” phenomenon that swept hip-hop during the mid-2010s: a vaunted feature from the Canadian superstar that would seemingly catapult their profile overnight (think of the trajectory of Migos’ “Versace” in 2013). Drake tweeted out a remix to Makonnen’s “Tuesday” on August 12, 2014, equipped with a new verse from rap’s seminal star-maker at that moment. Makonnen, gobsmacked by the staggering news (even though it was foretold by Sonny Digital), quickly connected with Drake and OVO Sound, signing with them in August and officially dropping the remix on September 1 to christen the new partnership.

Almost immediately, “Tuesday” transformed from a quirky, plucky club record with some staying power into an unavoidable smash hit. The co-signs from genre titans flooded in, while the official release vaulted to No. 12 on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart. It garnered a Grammy nomination for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration, and with the proliferation of online memes on Vine and Youtube, it made it possible to be trapped in a world where the least heralded day of the week felt a bit more glamorous, a bit more magical. At times, it started to feel as though the song’s electronic whirs, and Drake and Makonnen’s tender, falsetto warbling were weaved into the fabric of the atmosphere. For many, “Tuesday” morphed into a way to celebrate stealing joy in the middle of the week when life is constructed to do exactly the opposite. You could match your voice with Makonnen and Drake for five minutes at a time, crafting a reality where your friends never exit your life and the party never ends, a blissful existence indeed.

However, blissful existence, much like the songs they’re depicted on, has the tendency to end. The relationship between Makonnen, Drake, and the rest of OVO was beholden to finality, souring swiftly after it was formed. Varying levels of Makonnen being iced out publicly (general awkwardness at OVO meet-ups and snide insults hurled at his direction on stage) and professionally (a total lack of promotion and artistic support for the follow-up EP in 2015, iLoveMakonnen 2) ensued. Deeply uncomfortable moments at OVO Fest and the VMAs between Drake and his compatriots stacked up, all apparently stemming from a string of old tweets about Drake that resurfaced. He found himself at the center of online disputes with the likes of Charlamagne tha God and DJ Akademiks, as gossip and rumors about the souring relationship churned. In the end, it all became too much for Makonnen—he left the label in 2016, departed Atlanta in lieu of Portland and restarted a new creative run in the industry after his baptism by fire, dropping. There’s a sense of calm over his personal and artistic life in Oregon, releasing a new track this past August, “Addicted,” an album earlier this year Inflated Sense of Importance, and he planned to drop some tracks with YoungBoy Never Broke Again before his arrest this year.

Now, ahead of the 10-year anniversary of the remix’s official release, Makonnen talked with Complex over the phone, taking the time to revisit the song’s legacy, the souring of his relationship with Drake, and how he truly feels about “Tuesday.” In listening to him talk, he bears no ill will towards anyone for how things turned out, but difficult not to be reminded of the covertly gloomy bridge that appears at the tail end of his biggest hit: “I made it on my own/I made it my own style/I don’t think that I should stay/You know I gotta go.”

This interview was condensed and edited for clarity.

Before recording and dropping “Tuesday,” what type of traction and attention did you feel like you were getting in Atlanta?

Well, I felt like I was getting support and acceptance for trying something new, being a pioneer in the sound. And I think a lot of people were getting inspired by it and having a good time. And it was getting very collaborative. And, you know, it was just a lot of love and a lot of excitement in the city. It’s almost like, like everybody got training wheels or something for a bike, and now we are all getting a turn on how to, you know, start doing it and riding it. And now it’s like, “Oh, look, you know, you riding, you riding here.”

It was really beautiful, I really enjoyed it. Especially after coming from having so much tragedy around me and being alone and very secluded and away in my room on house arrest and probation. And then being able to come out there to express my music and my art, and see the other artists and people in the city that live the life of real time that was happening…How we were all sort of getting affected, and the feelings that everybody was having, it was just sort of hopeful. Inspirational. It was just like a triumph over tragedy.

I get to meet Metro Boomin, and I was with Mike WiLL Made-It. And then get to meet Sonny Digital, and then be with DJ Spinz. And you know, I’m around already, what I looked up to be, Atlanta trap sound royalty. And so it was just an honor to be around those producers, and be able to come share my art at places that they booked or owned or whatever, you know what I’m saying? That they put their hard work and time and stuff to build those independent things that they had and allowed me to come over and share my art there with them. We all felt good and inspired.

So, it felt like you were finding your space in Atlanta, not only as a young man trying to exist, but as an artist as well?

Definitely, as an artist it was like,”We support it. We like what you’re doing.” It’s Atlanta, you know, there’s always a new flavor, a new spice, a new sauce. So you, trying your new sauce. Rather it be, you know, mixtures of whatever sauce. It’s like, we like it, and we support it, and it’s inspiring new sauces.

The story of you recording “Tuesday”: You arrived at the studio and ripped a freestyle, do you remember the reaction of the room when you stepped out of the booth?

I was in the room at an Ear Drummers studio, and it was a producer, Mars, with Ear Drummers, and Rae Sremmurd was there when they was still up and coming. Mike WiLL was, like, gone in LA working with Miley Cyrus and stuff. And so I got to go up to the house, on the northside of Georgia, which is probably 50 minutes away from my area on the south side. And so we drove up there, and we was just playing around and making shit. And then it was like Monday night. I was just freestyling about it.

And then everybody was fucking with it, because it was really, like, it was dope. Because it was like, “Wow, it really is Monday night. Now it’s Tuesday morning here.” I just spit my little life about my life, you know what I mean?

Do you remember how the Drake remix came about, and where you were when the moment hit?

So the song was going around. It was like, in Atlanta, but it was just like, exclusive. It wasn’t even going too crazy. It was there. It was just like, we got, “I Don’t Sell Molly No More,” “Maneuvering,” “Man of the Party;” all this other shit that people like going crazy with. And “Tuesday,” like, it’s cool. It’s a little club song. But then Sonny hit me one night. He was like, “Drake, want to jump on the song.” And I was like, Yeah, whatever. Come on. Like that don’t even sound real. Like, why would a nigga want to jump on my stuff? You know, we ain’t killing it like that. And so then he was like, “Yeah, they want to do it.” Alright, Sonny if you can do that, you the man, dawg, like, whatever. Go ahead. And so we, I just went out about my day. I didn’t even tell nobody about that shit.

And then I remember being at the studio with Mike WiLL, recording music. One of these days, going hard until like, 4:00 a.m. gotta go back home, but they stopped at my little friend’s house. And then we was hanging out on shrooms. And then the tweets, somebody says, “Look.” And I was like, what? Look at this tweet, like, “Drake album with Makonnen would be fire.” And then somebody’s like, “look, it’s real.” They sent the song, and they started playing into the room. And I was like, “no way.” Like, how Sonny did that shit.

I was just really, like, flabbergasted, and on shrooms and having a good time, and just like, feeling, you know, very fulfilled. Like damn, all this hard work I’ve been doing, I’ve been going crazy.

How would you characterize the feeling of blowing up the way you did after the remix?

From my perspective, I found it to be unfair. I was like, “Y’all, it ain’t that good.” I get it, we snapped and stuff, but it’s not that good. I didn’t really feel too comfortable. I was on probation in May 2014, and watched the Grammys from home. Now, I’m nominated, at an afterparty, brushing shoulders with Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran, the Weeknd: everybody who’s been killing it forever. And here goes my little song, my little southside tune.

I’m one of the first people, I guess, who got to go through the real time shit of going from no views to so many fucking views. And dealing with how the established artists responded to that. Trust me, you’ve been on the radio since I went through beauty school, probation, goddamn jail, all that shit—that’s been your life! And now, all of a sudden, I’m up here. I’m a hair cosmetologist from the other side—the only way I should be back here is if I’m helping beautify you guys and get your hair done for your award winning work. Instead, I’m up here as an artist, as a musician, as a songwriter. I spent more time in school recently doing hair than I have been able to play my piano and do music, but I love doing my music.

There’s no manual or rulebook for dealing with instant fame, right? How do you deal with that?

It all changed so fast, I have to thank my friend, Marcus [Daniels], who passed away—God rest his soul. He was my best friend who was able to be with me through it all, who I considered the social butterfly. I felt like I wasn’t able to be Makonnen, or deal socially, unless I had my friend there. So he was able to kind of calm me down, to remind me of sort of home, to allow me to be myself—he was openly gay and black, as well. It was just a lot to experience all in real time, and then I got introduced to LSD and psychedelics. Now I’m going on these whole internal journeys, as well as this whole physical new journey. And I’m dealing with, what they considered overweight, and not attractive, all this and that.

When did you start to feel a shift in a different way between you and Drake/OVO, with things souring?

I felt things shift when the old tweets got out from 2010, 2012 or whatever, at the end of 2014. When I was talking shit about Drake and everybody, I’m talking shit about every artist who had a fucking name, so nobody felt left out. That’s what social media was. It’s 2009-2010, nobody had social media etiquette.

I imagine there was no thought of, “Hey, maybe I should delete these old tweets.”

Man, I don’t even know about these old Drake tweets! Ain’t nobody thinking about Drake like that. The day moves on, I probably said some shit about my momma on there!

Then in May 2015, I went on tour and I parted ways with my manager. He still had my Tumblr log in, and he made some post that automatically posted on my Twitter, which was like, “Fuck Drake, OVO, fuck Rihanna, fuck every motherfucker in this bitch.” I got real life hacked. And then Charlamagne [tha God] was like, “Oh, you the Donkey of the Day. You didn’t get hacked, you did this.” Everybody’s believing all this shit. And I’m like, look at all this. All this for what.

I’m seeing how the industry be moving. First, we all fucking with you, all giving you praises. Then, after that we’re all gonna twist on you. I ain’t get to say nothing. I’ve never been able to come up and clear nothing up, right? Everybody been out here running around. Then it’s like, Drake is over here shouting out Charlamagne, shouting out Akademiks. It’s like, wow. I thought he was supposed to be with me. Look, I guess it’s best to leave the label and get away from here.

It’s been 10 years between that era of your life and your artistry, does that help shape new perspectives about how anything occurred or went down?

You know, I have just become more understanding. It’s like I don’t have any hate or fault, any issue or static with any of the people of my past. I understand we all humans. We all have urges, there’s not a handbook on how to do anything, really, but I don’t know—we all aren’t raised the same. So it’s like, I’ve just been trying to be more compassionate in my heart, I know that I was on some stubborn trains, leading that motherfucking charge. I’m thankful that I’m able to spend enough time to be able to reflect and come to closure within myself, and if I ever get to speak to any of these people, I just hope they know that it’s all love.

Where does your mind even go when you think of “Tuesday” now as a song?

I think of my friend Marcus, because that song was really the embodiment of our life. He was a waiter at a restaurant, and I was like the bar-back: we would be there Monday night, working and then go to the club Tuesday morning until 4:00 a.m. to get a little drink, turn up, just have our moment. That’s just personal. When I think about it on a bigger scale, I think that’s such a great time for people. It was special for them and special for me, I was just thankful and blessed to be the creator of that moment.

I don’t know, the song has more of a mythical impact than an official impact. We could see with the views and the sales and all that seemed to kind of stop for some reason. We released the single September 1, 2014, it went platinum by May 2015, 10 years later and it’s not even double platinum. It’s just like wow, maybe it was just big to me. Maybe it was a real moment because I personally made this from my house, house arrest, and all that. For people to know me for that, that’s cool. Because I know me from so many things, I’m glad you can know me from that. Because there’s some things that I’d rather not be known for.