Barrel Maker and Conductor Williams pair up for an explosive new album

Morgan Cooper is Barrel Maker. You’ll recognize his moniker likely from his work with local hip-hop artists Stik Figa, Mac Lethal, Milkdrop and Approach. He’s a videographer with a sharp eye and an instinct for visuals. He’s also a rapper in two groups: One called Lionmaker, as a duo with Lawrence producer Lion, and another called Blk Flanl with Kansas City producer Conductor Williams (Denzel Williams, formerly known as D/Will).

On Wednesday, March 30, Barrel Maker and Williams release their second album together, Blk Flanl II. It arrives a year after the Blk Flanl debut, and Maker appears with his knuckles drawn and baring fangs. Over 11 tight tracks, he tears into issues of cultural appropriation, police brutality and black identity. It’s hard to imagine a harder-hitting — or timelier — record.

“A lot of the themes on the album have to do with structures within society and exploring what those structures are,” Maker says. “What does it mean to be black in this country and navigate those structures?”

Maker sighs, his hands out and palms up in a gesture of frustration. He seems to carry a weariness beyond his 24 years.

“With this record, we face a lot of those issues,” he says. “I’m not going to apologize for being a young black man. I don’t want to be afraid when a police officer stops me — I shouldn’t have to be. It’s a weird position, being black. You already have so much to face, be it from society or be it pressure in your own community to act a certain way — and especially as a rapper, to rap a certain way. This record, it’s basically saying, ‘Look, I’m not going to apologize for being who I am.'”

Blk Flanl II says a good deal more than that, too. But Maker — whose smooth, even-keeled flow comes down like a hammer on a straight line of nails — resists the temptation to preach or get angry. His delivery relies on the unadorned honesty in his voice, and that is his most powerful weapon — especially on songs like “Clarify,” which takes on what Maker terms “culture robbing.” See ’em try to rob the culture and we let ’em, I’ll clarify if you don’t get the message, Maker raps — and the line is an introduction to a sample from Iggy Azalea, then Ben Carson blasting Obamacare, then white rapper Slim Jesus defending his violent lyrics, then a Trump rally.

“This record was probably a solid year [in the making] from start to finish,” Williams says. “It’s the womb of Ferguson stuff, of Sandra Bland and of black America feeling pressure from all the media outlets. Some of my white friends would stay off Facebook for a couple days because they couldn’t take the pressure of everyone’s opinion on certain things, and these songs were made in the cascade of that monthly progression. As a producer, I wanted to engage the listener with the soundscape, which was birthed in the mud of all of that black suppression that was going on at the time.”

That’s why, Williams says, you’ll recognize blues- and jazz-influenced production. Warm, proud horns and booming piano notes are interspersed throughout the record, and Williams’ production is seamless as one song melts easily into the next. Blk Flanl II is a cinematic experience, and if Maker is the lionhearted protagonist, Williams is the force that moves the plot along.

“Over the past two years that I’ve known young Maker, we’ve built an awesome bond that’s brotherlike,” Williams says, “and that’s a part of my aesthetic. I’ve always felt that I’m a good beatmaker, but I’m a better producer, because I’m in love with people. I love stories and the stories behind art. That’s why the songs envelop how they do. That’s our relationship.”

For all of Blk Flanl II‘s darkness, though, there are moments of brightness and beauty where Maker and Williams seem to take a breath and get their heads above water. Four songs in, “Keep Me Safe” surrounds Maker’s verses — which include a stirring command of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “free at last” phrasing — with a spirited, uplifting horn arrangement. That song shines like headlights in a storm.

“‘Keep Me Safe’ was one of those days where I felt pretty good,” Williams says. “I remember: It was a Saturday, and I woke up and cooked breakfast. I hadn’t turned on any computers at all, except the one I was making music on, and I put this Brazilian record on. I found those horns, chopped up the bass line, chopped up the horn section.” Williams pauses, and even over the phone, I can tell he’s smiling at his memory.

“Me and Maker had a show later that night at the Granada,” he continues, “and he wrote the song on the way up there that night. That song happened on a good day, and that’s why it feels like a breath of fresh air. But the following song, ‘Structures,’ that song is dark, and it was a moment for me where I wanted to show the listener how fast things can get cloudy.”

For his part, Maker sees this album as a path through the darkness.

“It’s tough, because we navigate a lot of those heavy themes, but at the center we’re rising through those things,” Maker says. “This record is us saying what we believe: We want to uplift and build and add to the culture and fuel the music that we’re making. I stand by everything I say. Some of it isn’t pretty or glamorous, but it’s coming from the heart.”

Blk Flanl II will be released on Wednesday, March 30.