Quantum Supply hits his stride

Julian Harper seems a little reserved when we meet for drinks on a weeknight at Harry’s Bar and Tables in Westport, but there’s a good reason. He’s late, and he’s late because he first went to the wrong Harry’s, the one in the City Market. If one can sidle sheepishly, that’s how he approaches the bar to order a Hendrick’s and tonic. We move to the patio, and what at first looked like residual embarrassment turns to obvious fatigue. Harper, who performs as rapper Quantum Supply, explains that he hasn’t slept for about 26 hours.

He has a good reason for that, too, he says: He logs endless hours at the recording studio — Harper uses Industry Soundz, in Blue Springs — and schedules most of the sessions for the early hours of the morning, straight after a work shift tending bar or serving. It’s a grind, he admits, but he says the payoff is worth it.

His latest release, Capital Vice, bears him out. It’s a far cry from Harper’s previous two recordings — last summer’s Euphobia and the digital EP #pizza4breakfast — projects filled with robust, hype-heavy party raps. They were fun, but they lacked a standout message. Harper knows.

“I’ve written this project different than the way I’ve ever written anything before,” he says. “I’ve just been doing this for a while, but I didn’t want to start spreading the message I wanted to spread to people who weren’t listening. I wanted to build up that base, kind of get people on my team. And now I can put out the music that I want to put out.”

The kind of music Harper is interested in making can still shake a house party, but there’s a different energy on Capital Vice. The album is guided by smooth, shiny jazz beats and effervescent synths, and Harper’s lyrics have taken on a sharper focus, with a positive bent. “I Feel Fine” is a feel-good album opener, and the celebratory “Funky Fresh” goes it one better.

“Most of the time, when people ask what kind of music I make, I’m just like, ‘I’m a laid-back kind of guy and I make party songs,'” Harper says with a laugh. “But I kind of want to be a socially conscious party rapper. There was a lot of ’90s hip-hop like that, with killer party songs that had good messages in it: the Pharcyde and Del the Funky Homosapien. I want to make music that comes from that place.”

Harper pauses, and we both listen to Westport get rowdier in the alley that leads from Harry’s down to Buzzard Beach. Harper cocks his head and then speaks again.

“I’ll be honest,” he says. “If it was up to me, I would sing, but I can’t really sing that well. I do, a little, on track three [‘Have a Toast’], but hip-hop wouldn’t be my first choice as a musician. I would be making some kind of electronic, psychedelic, ’70s synth music. I’ve got a few swirls of that on Capital Vice, but not as much as I’d like.”

Curious now about Harper’s tastes, I ask him to walk with me to Mills Record Co. When we arrive, Harper goes straight for the electronica records, eagerly leafing through the Flying Lotus collection.

“I love this,” Harper says. “Especially after writing a bunch of stuff, recording all night, I can’t listen to stuff with words. I just need cloudy electronica in the background.”

But he doesn’t want to diminish what he has done with Capital Vice, which is every inch the record he wanted to make, he says — a “grown-up” Quantum Supply. “Big Bang Theory,” for one, offers a chilling social commentary, and the brooding “Feed the Carnivores” wags a finger at those who fail to work for what they want.

“With this release, it’s like supplying people with information they wouldn’t normally take from me just talking to them,” Harper tells me. “I have a lot of friends that aren’t necessarily living their lives as well as they could be, and if I was just to give them advice straightforward, they probably wouldn’t listen to me. But if I put it in a catchy song and put it in a story that they can relate to, they might take something from that.”

Harper shrugs and laughs. He leans his tall, thin frame against one of the record bins. Then again, he says, he’s not trying to cast himself as anyone’s guru.

“Sometimes I just like to supply myself with good vibes,” he says. “It’s mostly just a mood thing. It sounds cheesy and simple, but this record is probably the most honest thing I’ve ever done.”