The world is a silly place. At least, that’s how Ryan Dove sees it. But when you’ve lived the kind of life that Ryan has—escaping a cult at 16 through the power of hip-hop music—you start to understand the absurdity in things. You start to see the cracks in the world’s facade, the places where the veneer of seriousness peels away to reveal something far less grand, something you have to laugh at
The world is a silly place. That thought that echoed in my mind when Ryan Dove pulled up in his Kia Soul, a car that seemed as unassuming as the man himself. He stepped out, with headphones around his neck, a graphic tee with a cartoony Spiderman fighting the Venom Symbiote, torn jean shorts, a backpack, and thick rimmed glasses. His posture bent slightly as though he was carrying a weight invisible to the rest of us, but there was a bounce in his step that portrayed a different story—a story of resilience, of a man who has seen too much to be fooled by the world’s pretense. In a world of rap music that demands you “fake it till you make it,” Ryan Dove stands as a rare truth—a rapper who has no need to pretend because he’s already made peace with who he is.
The world is a silly place. This truth that hit me again when Ryan arrived just in time to meet my 92-year-old grandmother, returning from her walk with my aunt. There was something almost too perfect about the timing, as if fate had arranged for this moment, reminding us of the absurd uncontrollable choreography that governs our lives. As we began our journey together, our conversation quickly turned to stories of watching loved ones fade into the shadows of lost memories, to the point where they no longer recognize their own home. It was a heavy topic, but there was something in Ryan’s voice—a recognition of the ridiculousness of it all, the way life steals away the very things that define us—that made the conversation feel like more than just an exchange of sorrow. It was an acknowledgment of life’s cruel joke, and the quiet defiance of those who laugh back.
The world is a silly place. That refrain played on as Ryan shared more of his life with me. His father has a room dedicated to The Beatles—a shrine to a band that, in its own way, broke the world wide open. His sister was the one who introduced him to Kanye West’s Graduation, a record that shifted something deep inside him. But then, at 11, his mother pulled him into a “church” that preached that Kanye (and most music at large) was the devil’s own messenger. It’s a story that could be tragic, if it weren’t so silly, so perfectly emblematic of the strange contradictions that shape our lives. By the time he was 16, Ryan had found his salvation in making music, rejecting the dogma of the “church” and forging his own path. Music became his sanctuary, his way of making sense of a world that too often doesn’t make any sense at all.
The world is a silly place. And it was never more apparent than when we talked about his career. We spoke about the way those closest to him—family, friends—seemed less interested in his music than complete strangers. It’s a paradox many artists know too well, the bitter irony of needing validation from those who are supposed to know you best, and finding it instead in the eyes of people you’ve never met. We discussed the love songs that didn’t make it onto his album because that love had been lost—a cruelty so sharp it could only be met with a kind of dark humor. Then there was the drama with a producer who wanted to pull a song after it had been cleared because of a personal grudge with a featured artist. These are the stories that artists like Ryan live with, the small absurdities that pile up until they become a mountain you either laugh at or let crush you. Ryan chooses to laugh, and in his laughter, there is a wisdom that cuts through the nonsense, revealing a man who has come to understand the world for what it is, and has chosen to keep creating anyway.
The world is a silly place. That truth was undeniable as we wandered through East Austin, a part of the city where the past and the future seem locked in a constant battle for cultural dominance. We walked past multi-million dollar homes rising up next to worn-down casitas, stark juxtapositions between wealth and struggle laid bare on every corner. Art galleries stood beside payday loan fronts, reminders of the way beauty and desperation so often coexist. We saw murals dedicated to Texas hip-hop in neighborhoods being swallowed by gentrification, the culture that built this place being slowly pushed out by those who want to remake it in their own image. But in the middle of all this—this ocean of punk rockers and tech bros—there exists a hip-hop open mic scene at The Volstead, a space where the old Austin still breathes, where the soul of the city hasn’t yet been erased. This was the final stop in our journey, and it’s here, in this vibrant, chaotic mix, that Ryan Dove has found his people.
The world is a silly place. So naturally, it makes perfect sense that a half-Mexican, half-white kid from El Paso, with his thick-frame glasses and unassuming demeanor, could stand out every Monday night at the “Underground Voices Live” Hip-Hop open mic. Of course, he would become a crowd favorite, his authenticity resonating with those who gather in that space. Of course, he would form connections with a wide array of artists, relationships that now shape his upcoming album. And of course, you should listen to Live, Laugh, Dove if you want to catch a glimpse of that silliness, to hear an artist who has learned to embrace the absurd in the midst of a world that often feels too heavy to bear.
The world is a silly place. And in Ryan’s own words, he’s “a guy writing silly songs with his friends, trying to put a spotlight on the Texas underground.” But there’s more to it than that. What Ryan Dove offers is more than just music; it’s a reflection of life’s absurd waltz, a commentary on the way we all navigate a world that refuses to make sense. In his songs, in his stories, there is a recognition of the pain, the joy, the confusion, and the beauty that come with being alive. And in that recognition, there is a power—a power that comes from knowing the world is a silly place, and choosing to laugh anyway.
The world is a silly place. And perhaps that’s why we need artists like Ryan Dove, artists who remind us that in the face of all the absurdity, the contradictions, and the pain, there is still a place for laughter, for music, and for the simple truth that sometimes, the best way to deal with the madness is to find a rhythm in it, and do a silly dance.
Live, Laugh, Dove releases on all streaming platforms August 27, 2024
Catch Ryan Dove live throughout the month of August
August 15- Rhyme & Reason @ Vaquero Taquero
August 27th- ALBUM RELEASE SHOW @ THE MOHAWK
August 31- TexPop hip-pop culture show @ the TexPop Museum
For more of Ryan Dove follow him on Instagram @r.yandove
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