Originally Published in McGill University's Arts Life Magazine, 2017

SAGE is a bi-weekly series by Zahra Habib that explores the complexity of McGill Arts students through conversations about their experiences. Everyone’s got a story to tell, and every story is worth telling.

Lounging in the green backyard of his converted duplex after just finishing from a round of outdoor job hunting, a Styrofoam of butter chicken in hand, Abdoulaye Mouflet doesn’t seem very different from a typical Montreal university student looking to stay busy over the summer.But there’s something very unique about the 21-year-old Economics and International Development student: he’s a co-founder of KAJ, an impressive and growing collective of Montreal artists. Tapping into the emerging music and entertainment scene in Montreal was the seed which planted the idea, but as the project evolved, Abdou had a chance to see firsthand what are the benefits of a model based on sharing art and positive, creative energy.

Though his current project is to develop the collective into a “Silicon Valley of record labels”, Abdou has more than an entrepreneurial stake in fostering a local community for artists and creative minds. His father, an artist by trade and Martiniquan native, moved to New York from Senegal in the 80s without knowing a word of English or holding any kind of school diploma. But by the time Abdou was born, the family owned a dance school and a music studio in Manhattan. For the Mouflets, exploring different artistic mediums was always a family affair.

“I used to make a lot of music when I was a kid. I played African drums, piano, a little bit of guitar. Growing up in a dance school and a music studio, I was always learning from musicians.”

But it wasn’t always easy to make music. When his parents split up at 14, he stopped doing all forms of art, not once thinking that he would ever be concerned with going back. For 7 years, he shut off the artist inside, preferring instead to think that his future lay somewhere in the world of big banks and finance. Listening to Abdou talk about his recent decision to trade a position he held for 2 years at a financial firm for the freedom and moral ease of delivering for Uber Eats, it’s hard to believe that this is the same person who was once content with believing in the corporate-made system of ‘cash rules everything around me.’ (Credit: Wu-Tang Clan)

“Since I moved to Montreal, I became way less superficial. I was never a materialistic guy, but I thought I was – for some reason. Now I’ve realized that cash does rule everything around me, but I don’t have to enslave myself to it. All these people who are working 9-5 to get a 6-figure salary are slaves. If you detach yourself from that and do your own thing, there’s bound to be positivity, success, and happiness. Whether it’s from your peers, yourself, or whatever it is you’re doing. There’s so much more to life than just being someone who has a fat paycheck.”

Interestingly, it was both the studies and the social life at McGill that encouraged the artistic, non-conforming entrepreneur to discover what he really wants out of life – the freedom to live for himself, while finding new ways to tap into and challenge his creative potential.

“I don’t know where this is going to go. I’m going wherever it takes me. I see myself doing something creative, and entrepreneurial. I can’t work for someone, unless it’s to find my own dreams. Just working to survive is not even an option for me. I don’t see myself pursuing economics in grad school or anything, but I do think it was a smart program for me to take. It teaches critical thinking, especially for understanding systems, which to me is the key to success:Understanding systems, how they work, and why they’re in place.

Especially for KAJ, the amount of people I’ve met at McGill who helped me with KAJ in every aspect is just crazy. It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t go to McGill, it put me in contact with smart, like minded people. We support each other. If I went to an American university, or stayed in New York City, it wouldn’t have happened.”

When asked to explain his reasoning behind that, Abdou keeps it honest.

“Institutional racism”. He says plainly. A system where nobody wins. “It definitely exists in Canada too, but I don’t feel like it’s on the same level, because of the huge proportion of the population being immigrants.”

“Montreal is an interesting city, good for projects like this. In New York I would’ve gotten eaten. Unless I asked my dad for help… but I wouldn’t have been as happy with it because I wouldn’t have done it on my own. And with all the competition in New York, and music being a cutthroat industry, starting a collective is much easier because of the attitudes of people in Montreal.”

After a childhood of living in a rougher part of Spanish Harlem (back when it was still called that), while being one of the only coloured students at a private French school, letting go of the big money mentality was one hurdle that he’s glided over successfully. Getting back into music however, after a 7-year hiatus and in the unfamiliar zone of turntabling and producing, was an entirely different trip, one of hard-work and more self-discovery.

“There were times where I felt so down I wanted to vomit, but I would always look at myself and say ‘I’m the man. I got this’. You repeat that to yourself so many times that you become it. There have been times where I’m asking ‘Am I the man? Imagine I’m not the man after all this time that I’ve been saying so!!’ But you just have to believe in yourself. I feel like that kind of energy just brings success”.

Reeling him back into music was a friend he lived with in his 3rd year at McGill, a DJ who kept his equipment in the living room of their apartment, enticing Abdou to eventually ask to show him how to spin. Because of his background, the ability to splice, match, and overlap beats on a record came easily, and the friend didn’t miss it. Soon, they were throwing parties in their Plateau apartment that were being attended in the hundreds, and it was only after several shut-downs later that Abdou had an entrepreneurial awakening.

“I realized that I have a network. If I could get 350 people to come party at my house, I could definitely get 350 people to actually do something interesting and cool’”

The name KAJ refers to its founders, acronomized (Kenan, Abdou, and Juan). Though it’s pronunciation implies ‘cage’ in French, the idea behind KAJ evolved along the entirely opposite idea. For Abdou, KAJ has always been about sharing space and ideas, while promoting local creative businesses and supporting young artists who make great work, but might need an extra push to share their work.

“KAJ was always supposed to be a community of musicians that help each other. Now, I want it to be even more than that. I’m working on the website, talking with certain thrift stores and antique shops to feature their stuff so we can have an online curated thrift store, part of KAJ and part of our push to promote local business. The idea behind it is growing with the community, in a way that benefits everybody.”

And benefit it has. A guiding principle for Abdou is to consider all decisions he makes in his life as a beat in the rhythm of a larger system. Whether it’s keeping himself surrounded by positive energy and people, a daily policy of self-encouragement (“I’m the kind of person who wakes up in the morning and takes to the mirror to pump myself up!”), or in handling his relationships with openness and respect, his analytical tendency and economics background taught him to think of everything as part of a hackable, configurable system.

“I do believe that if you see things as a system, it becomes clearer. I’m not keeping anyone around me who’s a negative influence in my life. In a way, that’s a system. A system of success. You have to be forgiving to people and solve your differences, but the moment someone negatively influences me, in a way that is limiting me, I cut it off right away”.

When asked how to explain the system of balancing creativity and mass appeal, Abdou keeps it simple. “I have this mentality of not caring what anyone else thinks about me doing my own thing. And I think that that’s what people like. I don’t even take requests as a DJ! Either you like my thing, or you don’t, I don’t care. I think it’s the move. With events, I think people should be there for YOU, you’re not there for the people. And same for making music, you should make music for yourself.”

In the end, it’s clear that both the artist and entrepreneur in Abdou share a guiding principle: sharing the love. Or, if you’d rather, redistributing the wealth.

“The way to be successful in the game is to not be selfish about it. As long as you give everyone a time to shine, they’re going to bring their people. It makes sense. The best way to treat people is with respect and humility, because in the end it will always benefit. In the short run, it might not necessarily – especially with business. But running a business with negative energy, screwing other people over… eventually that comes back to you. As for the system… I try to screw the system, by creating my own.”