KIN

4y

Like countless others, Bank$ and I have therapy in common. My reasons for therapy tie back to 2016, shortly before I had my very first manic episode; I’ve since been diagnosed as bipolar. In my bouts with extreme mania—a heightened mental state that feels like euphoria on a supernaturally interconnected, yet unstable level—I gravitate heavily toward Bank$. Very heavily. I become hyper-obsessed with his music, tweeting about it, playing it on repeat at max volumes, and finding patterns and “clues” in the music that somehow relate back to me. By the time I’ve reached peak elevation, I’m fully convinced it’s me and Robb against the destructive forces of the world: he’s the voice in the sky and I’m the feet on the ground, getting people ready for a global transformation unlike anything the human race has ever seen. In my mind, Bank$’s discography (and the music of a select few peers) is the audio version of a contemporary Bible, the soundtrack to a new, deeply engaging story of life and creation.

In my most recent episode, last October, I took it a step further and did everything in my power to emulate the rapper: I squawked; I roared; I yelled at the top of my lungs about the opps; I mimicked his outbursts and ad libs. My family sent me straight to a mental hospital, and told me they no longer wanted me to listen to him.

To keep it a buck, I went into this interview thinking I’d have to “break up” with Bank$.