Cities Aviv
The other night, I was driving home when Cities Aviv’s “URL IRL” came on shuffle. That first distorted note hit me like a time machine, pulling me back to the days when his music felt like an unfiltered voice for misfits everywhere. It reminded me of just how singular Cities Aviv’s sound is—raw, chaotic, and emotional. I couldn’t help but wonder why his name doesn’t come up more when people talk about underground legends. Aviv didn’t just make music; he made a world for people who didn’t fit neatly into one.
Cities Aviv (real name Gavin Mays) started out in the Memphis hardcore scene, fronting a band called Copwatch. That’s where you can trace the roots of his rebellious energy. When he pivoted to rap, he didn’t lose any of that punk ethos. His early work, like Digital Lows (2011), is this perfect collision of lo-fi production, existential musings, and defiant individuality. Tracks like “Coastin” and “Die Young” were like cryptic diary entries delivered over glitchy beats, setting him apart from any conventional hip-hop lane.
By the time Black Pleasure (2012) came out, Aviv was carving out a unique niche. That album feels like wandering through a dark city alone at 3 a.m., where every streetlight flickers with static. The beats are noisy and abstract, the lyrics are introspective yet confrontational, and the whole vibe is undeniably magnetic. “HEAD” and “URL IRL” are tracks that stick with you—not because they’re polished, but because they embrace imperfection. He wasn’t trying to make radio hits; he was making a soundtrack for people trying to make sense of their own chaos.
What’s always stood out about Cities Aviv is how he refuses to stay in one place, musically or thematically. His sound evolved rapidly, incorporating noise, industrial, and ambient textures alongside his rap roots. Albums like Come to Life (2014) and Raised for a Better View (2018) leaned even further into abstraction. They feel more like art installations than traditional rap records. It’s music for headphones, for people who are willing to sit with discomfort and find beauty in it.
But if there’s one constant in Aviv’s work, it’s his ability to challenge norms. He’s never cared about fitting into a genre or chasing trends. His lyrics often read like poetry, grappling with identity, mortality, and the digital age’s disconnection. He’s not out here writing hooks for TikTok; he’s asking questions about what it even means to exist in a hyper-connected, hyper-surveilled world.
Cities Aviv’s live shows? They’re another beast entirely. Forget polished performances—his sets are pure, unfiltered energy. He’ll scream into the mic, let the noise wash over the crowd, and create moments where you feel like you’re part of something bigger than yourself. It’s catharsis in its rawest form.
These days, it feels like Aviv has stepped back from the spotlight a bit, but his influence is still rippling through the underground. He’s the kind of artist whose work doesn’t age; it mutates, finding new ways to resonate as the world gets stranger. If you’re tired of music that plays it safe, Cities Aviv is the antidote. He’s not here to make you comfortable—he’s here to make you feel.
Throw on Black Pleasure or Digital Lows and let yourself sink into his world. It’s chaotic, messy, and beautiful—just like life.