Just a few years ago, Teezo, who now lives in Houston, lost a loved one to gun violence. Others may know it as somewhere around the 15 deadliest cities in the U.S. He comes from Beaumont, which he calls a “great place to retire.” He knows it as home to his favorite club Nell’s Place, which he hopes to someplace buy out or promote in some capacity and his favorite restaurant John’s Seafood, where he orders specialty salt-and-pepper wings. Teezo is exactly that a ray of hope for those around him.
We just talked about our goals and aspirations.” “I was in a very low place at the time where I wasn’t particularly excited about music anymore and was contemplating giving up… It’s almost like Teezo was God sent because when I first met him, all he was talking about was being a positive light, making the world a better place, being someone who encourages community service, being an artist that is accessible to everyone and emphasising that we’re all just really the same inside. “That meeting changed my life,” Noor said. She realized then that Teezo knew he was set for superstardom at only 2,000 followers, so she linked up with him in Los Angeles. His bio read “don’t worry, you’re early,” which it still reads now. He wanted to incorporate a visual element.įor context, Noor has managed Teezo since February of 2019, when she first heard a snippet of his disruptive punk track “100 Drums” on Instagram. His manager, Amal Noor, who is a champion of everything Touchdown touches and is just as astonished by his creative leaps as the rest of his now-cult following, realized Teezo wanted to offer something more. It started with sending Teezo an initial batch of questions-maybe 25 total. No, instead for Teezo-who doesn’t reveal his legal name or age outside of his now-regrettable early moniker Teezo Suave-this discussion was an extension of his three latest singles: The bad-ass guitar-wailing “SUCKA!,” the mellow riffed-out “Strong Friend,” and the inventive croon-rap punch of “Careful.” He treated this press opportunity with as much care as his outlandish roll-outs, including that interview with TRL’s Carson Daly and all of those scripted messages to fans filmed in front of what he still won’t admit is his graffiti-plastered garage in Texas (it could be anybody’s, honestly). This feature was never going to be a standard 15-minute Zoom call to add to the promotional cycle.
They come from the brilliant mind of Teezo, a Beaumont, Texas native who would never consider doing anything less than extraordinary. They do have something in common, though. The songs range from impassioned singer-songwriter tunes to the nameless diss track of the year, and they share few sonic similarities. Yet, that’s Teezo Touchdown, who has made the last three weeks a never-ending maze in an attempt to learn bits and pieces of information-half the time, anything-about a man who has monopolized our Twitter feeds with a barrage of mammoth-sized chains, ‘70s lingo that few have dared to touch since the turn of the century, a Rick James Street Songs-era leather combat vest, and three rambunctious singles in the span of a month. It’s rare to see so much of somebody and still know so little about them.
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