In this exclusive Studio Talks interview, we sit down with the incredibly talented music producer Swiff D, who has contributed to numerous projects that have influenced the sound of hip-hop and R&B. He’s worked with top-tier artists like ScHoolboy Q, Bryson Tiller, Kevin Gates, Logic, and many more. From humble beginnings making beats on a church laptop to collaborating with some of the biggest names in the industry, Swiff D’s journey is nothing short of inspiring. In this conversation, we dive into his creative process, the role of emotion and space in music, and how his iconic production on tracks like “Studio” by ScHoolboy Q has shaped his career. Swiff D also opens up about his unique Nat-ure Average series and his future plans. This interview was conducted by Rudy Manager via video call on March 12th, 2025.
How did you first get interested in music, and how did that lead to music production?
Both sides of my family sang and played instruments. I grew up singing and playing drums, and my dad played around seven instruments. I thought I’d have a singing career, but I was too shy. Still, I knew I wanted to do something in music—it had always been my plan.
I got into production in high school when a friend brought some beats to class during our senior year. I was blown away that someone my age could make music like that. It made me want to try it too.
I had seen my dad sequence on analog gear, but this was the first time I saw digital production—FL Studio. I started making beats on the church laptop. I was doing the sound during service, and while the pastor was preaching, I’d be in the back with headphones on, making beats. It just clicked for me. It let me express myself in ways I couldn’t otherwise. I didn’t think about being a producer yet—I just wanted to see if I could make tight beats.
What was your process for improving your music early on, and did you have any mentors or attend any institutions during that time?
I grew up playing basketball, and switching to music felt like chasing a fantasy. I knew I had to take it seriously and be honest with myself. That’s something I always tell people: in entertainment, you’ve got to stay humble and know where you can improve.
I’d be in one room making beats, and in the next room, I’d have music videos playing all day. That was my ceiling. I’d ask, “Does this sound like that? No? Then my beat needs work.” I’d break it down—mix, sound placement, what’s missing?
Nobody really took me seriously then, so I wasn’t getting advice. I improved by comparing my beats with those of producers like Timbaland, The Neptunes, and J Dilla. I wasn’t close to their level, but if I could get a little closer each time, I felt like I could make this a career.
After each beat, I’d listen to one of theirs and ask, “Am I getting better, worse, or staying the same?” That was the process.
Who were some of the first artists or projects you worked with?
The first beat I ever sold was to Jayo Felony, who was signed to Def Jam. It was within my first year and a half of producing. He gave me $3,500, and I felt rich—it was my first real money, not from my parents or anyone else. That’s when it became a hustle for me.
I went the indie route for a while, working with local artists. About a year later, I landed my first mainstream placement with Bobby Valentino, who at the time had the hit “Slow Down,” one of the greatest R&B songs of all time.
Back then, making indie money didn’t mean much to most people, but seeing a physical CD in stores with my name on it? That was the moment I thought, “I’m actually in—where do I go from here?” It motivated me to go even harder.
Can you walk us through how you typically start an idea from scratch? What’s your process when you open your DAW?
I always start from a blank canvas—that’s when I make my best music. If there’s pressure, like needing beats for a specific artist or deadline, it limits how freely I can explore sound.
I love starting my day with music. I don’t sleep much, and early mornings—when most producers are still asleep—are when I’m sharpest. Sometimes, I already have a rough idea, so I’ll lay down a skeleton and decide whether to build on it or come back later.
At night, when everything’s quiet, I’m at my most creative. That’s when I experiment with new sounds and plugins. A lot of my best ideas come from happy accidents during those sessions.
Some days, I have so many ideas that I could make beats blindfolded. Other days, I need to explore and let things flow naturally.
Your Nat-ure Average series is fascinating. Where do you find inspiration for making sounds and beats in everyday places like Walmart, and how did the idea for the series come about?
I came up with the idea 10 years ago. I pitched it to some guys with cameras, saying, “Let’s go around L.A., shoot footage, and score it with sounds based on the environment.” This was before reels were a thing, and I wanted to bridge visuals with music in a unique way. They thought it was cool but weren’t really into it, so it didn’t go anywhere at the time.
Later, I started traveling—Costa Rica, Dubai—and it opened my ears. I realized there are so many sounds and frequencies around us that we don’t even realize. I started thinking that making music today is kind of boring. Everyone’s digging from the same pot. I wanted to challenge myself to flip sounds most people wouldn’t even think of using into full beats with different styles and vibes.
That’s when it clicked: “I’m not your average producer. I can make music from anything.” And Nat-ure Average became my way to prove that. Right now, I’m just scratching the surface. This is the foundation, but I truly believe it’s going to grow into something phenomenal.
It’s also about inspiring other producers. We live in a time when everything’s at your fingertips—loops, samples—and people aren’t going out to find sounds anymore. I stick to that “eat what you kill” mindset. It builds longevity and originality.
Even if people think it’s weird to see me walking around with a mic and an Osmo Pocket camera, I’m creating something meaningful. Now, businesses are starting to support it, and I’m taking it to a more corporate level. It’s going to be dope.
Do you have a song or production that is especially close to your heart for any reason?
I’ve worked with many of my favorite hip-hop and R&B artists, but “Studio” by ScHoolboy Q is probably my favorite. It taught me a lot about the business.
I think every producer goes through two stages. First, it’s about respect and validation—proving you’ve got the tightest beats. But that only goes so far. When I made “Studio,” I was going through a rough time. My pops had passed, and I was ready to quit music. I didn’t make a beat for four months.
Then one day, I woke up with this feeling, like God was saying, “You’re not about to waste the last nine or ten years of your life building relationships and walking in and out of offices. You’re right there. Get up and make a beat.” The first beat I made after that break was “Studio.” It reminded me of how important space and emotion are in music—more than just making a banger.
I also have a thing where I name my beats, and it’s special when the artist keeps that name. It’s part of how I express myself. Those emotional textures, that space in the music—that’s the most powerful tool any composer can have.
Can you walk us through how you typically start an idea from scratch? What’s your process when you open your DAW?
I always start from a blank canvas—that’s when I make my best music. If there’s pressure, like needing beats for a specific artist or deadline, it limits how freely I can explore sound.
I love starting my day with music. I don’t sleep much, and early mornings—when most producers are still asleep—are when I’m sharpest. Sometimes, I already have a rough idea, so I’ll lay down a skeleton and decide whether to build on it or come back later.
At night, when everything’s quiet, I’m at my most creative. That’s when I experiment with new sounds and plugins. A lot of my best ideas come from happy accidents during those sessions.
Some days, I have so many ideas that I could make beats blindfolded. Other days, I need to explore and let things flow naturally.
Your Nat-ure Average series is fascinating. Where do you find inspiration for making sounds and beats in everyday places like Walmart, and how did the idea for the series come about?
I came up with the idea 10 years ago. I pitched it to some guys with cameras, saying, “Let’s go around L.A., shoot footage, and score it with sounds based on the environment.” This was before reels were a thing, and I wanted to bridge visuals with music in a unique way. They thought it was cool but weren’t really into it, so it didn’t go anywhere at the time.
Later, I started traveling—Costa Rica, Dubai—and it opened my ears. I realized there are so many sounds and frequencies around us that we don’t even realize. I started thinking that making music today is kind of boring. Everyone’s digging from the same pot. I wanted to challenge myself to flip sounds most people wouldn’t even think of using into full beats with different styles and vibes.
That’s when it clicked: “I’m not your average producer. I can make music from anything.” And Nat-ure Average became my way to prove that. Right now, I’m just scratching the surface. This is the foundation, but I truly believe it’s going to grow into something phenomenal.
It’s also about inspiring other producers. We live in a time when everything’s at your fingertips—loops, samples—and people aren’t going out to find sounds anymore. I stick to that “eat what you kill” mindset. It builds longevity and originality.
Even if people think it’s weird to see me walking around with a mic and an Osmo Pocket camera, I’m creating something meaningful. Now, businesses are starting to support it, and I’m taking it to a more corporate level. It’s going to be dope.
Do you have a song or production that is especially close to your heart for any reason?
I’ve worked with many of my favorite hip-hop and R&B artists, but “Studio” by ScHoolboy Q is probably my favorite. It taught me a lot about the business.
I think every producer goes through two stages. First, it’s about respect and validation—proving you’ve got the tightest beats. But that only goes so far. When I made “Studio,” I was going through a rough time. My pops had passed, and I was ready to quit music. I didn’t make a beat for four months.
Then one day, I woke up with this feeling, like God was saying, “You’re not about to waste the last nine or ten years of your life building relationships and walking in and out of offices. You’re right there. Get up and make a beat.” The first beat I made after that break was “Studio.” It reminded me of how important space and emotion are in music—more than just making a banger.
I also have a thing where I name my beats, and it’s special when the artist keeps that name. It’s part of how I express myself. Those emotional textures, that space in the music—that’s the most powerful tool any composer can have.
Can you walk us through how you typically start an idea from scratch? What’s your process when you open your DAW?
I always start from a blank canvas—that’s when I make my best music. If there’s pressure, like needing beats for a specific artist or deadline, it limits how freely I can explore sound.
I love starting my day with music. I don’t sleep much, and early mornings—when most producers are still asleep—are when I’m sharpest. Sometimes, I already have a rough idea, so I’ll lay down a skeleton and decide whether to build on it or come back later.
At night, when everything’s quiet, I’m at my most creative. That’s when I experiment with new sounds and plugins. A lot of my best ideas come from happy accidents during those sessions.
Some days, I have so many ideas that I could make beats blindfolded. Other days, I need to explore and let things flow naturally.
Your Nat-ure Average series is fascinating. Where do you find inspiration for making sounds and beats in everyday places like Walmart, and how did the idea for the series come about?
I came up with the idea 10 years ago. I pitched it to some guys with cameras, saying, “Let’s go around L.A., shoot footage, and score it with sounds based on the environment.” This was before reels were a thing, and I wanted to bridge visuals with music in a unique way. They thought it was cool but weren’t really into it, so it didn’t go anywhere at the time.
Later, I started traveling—Costa Rica, Dubai—and it opened my ears. I realized there are so many sounds and frequencies around us that we don’t even realize. I started thinking that making music today is kind of boring. Everyone’s digging from the same pot. I wanted to challenge myself to flip sounds most people wouldn’t even think of using into full beats with different styles and vibes.
That’s when it clicked: “I’m not your average producer. I can make music from anything.” And Nat-ure Average became my way to prove that. Right now, I’m just scratching the surface. This is the foundation, but I truly believe it’s going to grow into something phenomenal.
It’s also about inspiring other producers. We live in a time when everything’s at your fingertips—loops, samples—and people aren’t going out to find sounds anymore. I stick to that “eat what you kill” mindset. It builds longevity and originality.
Even if people think it’s weird to see me walking around with a mic and an Osmo Pocket camera, I’m creating something meaningful. Now, businesses are starting to support it, and I’m taking it to a more corporate level. It’s going to be dope.
Do you have a song or production that is especially close to your heart for any reason?
I’ve worked with many of my favorite hip-hop and R&B artists, but “Studio” by ScHoolboy Q is probably my favorite. It taught me a lot about the business.
I think every producer goes through two stages. First, it’s about respect and validation—proving you’ve got the tightest beats. But that only goes so far. When I made “Studio,” I was going through a rough time. My pops had passed, and I was ready to quit music. I didn’t make a beat for four months.
Then one day, I woke up with this feeling, like God was saying, “You’re not about to waste the last nine or ten years of your life building relationships and walking in and out of offices. You’re right there. Get up and make a beat.” The first beat I made after that break was “Studio.” It reminded me of how important space and emotion are in music—more than just making a banger.
I also have a thing where I name my beats, and it’s special when the artist keeps that name. It’s part of how I express myself. Those emotional textures, that space in the music—that’s the most powerful tool any composer can have.
Can you share the story of how the song “Studio” by ScHoolboy Q was made?
My good friend Hector Delgado, who’s been A$AP’s main guy for years, and I used to work together a lot. One day, I was at my manager’s office when Tunji from Def Jam walked in. He asked if I had any beats for ScHoolboy Q, and I said, “Yeah, I’ve got some”. That was around the time I was really starting to reset and shape everything in my career. I felt like I was finally getting ready for my shot. I I sent a pack later that day, texting Q like, “Let me know if you want any—I’ll hold them for you.”
I’d met Q before, during a session with Kendrick, and he seemed standoffish—but I later realized he was just high. He’s actually super chill. I knew he had a new deal, and I was determined to get something on his debut.
The next day, Q hit me back saying he liked all the beats. I told him he could use any of them. A few weeks later, Hector called and asked for one of the beats, saying, “We’re cutting this record right now.” He’s low-key like that—he doesn’t talk much until it’s real.
Not long after, Dave Free called and said, “It’s about 85% likely this track’s going on the album,” and asked for my info. Then Punch reached out too. That’s when I knew it was turning into something serious.
I walked into my manager’s office, and he was sitting there with his head down, playing Candy Crush on his phone. I told him, “Yo, man, I think ScHoolboy Q is about to use one of my beats on his album.” He didn’t even look up and said, “Do you know what it’s called?” I said, “Nah, I don’t, but I heard he’s singing on it.” That made him look up, and he said, “What?!” He jumped up and said, “Man, let’s go. That’s my favorite song! I play it all day long! You’re about to have one!” I was like, “What?” That’s when I thought, “Yo, I might have a single!”
That moment was huge for me. Getting an album cut is great, but a single is what we all chase. It becomes your calling card—it’s just you and the artist. You can raise your price, your profile—everything. That song changed my life, and I can’t thank Q enough. We’re good homies now, and I’ve got a ton of respect for him. It was just an amazing experience.
What advice would you give to up-and-coming producers who are just starting out and hoping to build their brand and connect with established artists?
One of the best lessons I learned came from my friend David Banner: “No matter how much money you make, always invest a good portion of it into your personal growth.”
I’ve always thought about how I can enhance my brand. It’s easy to get caught up in wanting things—shoes, cars, parties—but as you move up, the competition gets tougher. We’re only here for a short time before people forget us. So, the key is to invest in your craft during this time and focus on continuously improving.
I always tell new producers: when you start making money, focus on yourself first. Don’t rush the process. Don’t think you’re too busy to learn an instrument or improve your mixing. Spend at least 30 minutes to an hour each day focusing on being the best version of yourself.
Another big lesson—keep your hands empty and your path clear. Professionalism matters more than talent. Bad business can ruin everything. It doesn’t matter how talented you are—if you can’t learn to negotiate, have a bad lawyer, or treat people poorly, no one will want to work with you.
And when you do get in the room with artists, be fast and sharp. Their attention span is short, and they have endless options. Show your value quickly—give them 50% of who they are now, and 50% of where you see them going. Artists like to be pushed and inspired by where you see them going next.
When I work with someone, out of 10 beats, I’ll give them 6 that are in their lane and 4 that push them out of their comfort zone. Those 4 can elevate their sound. Most producers might just try to give the artist what they think the artist wants. But if you want to grow as a composer and make an impact, don’t be afraid to take risks and push boundaries.
Where do you see yourself five years from now?
Over the next five years, I’ve set a goal to become proficient in playing multiple instruments. I’ve always taken the approach that, if you can learn to do things on your own, it saves time and gives you more control over your work. For example, with Nat-ure Average, I shoot and edit all my own content because I’d rather not rely on others.
I’m focused on building my personal brand beyond just music and placements. A lot of us, especially in the music industry, can become defined by our work or sound, but I want to carve out an identity for myself as “Swiff D” beyond just what people know me for sonically. I want to expand my reach and focus on growing the brand itself—not just the music I create.
I also want to help others grow by signing artists, producers, and sound designers—helping them develop their skills and providing opportunities. It’s about creating a community where everyone can thrive, and expanding my services.
Follow Swiff D on Instagram: @swiffd
