The Rabbit Hole is Open

You don’t stumble into a Kaiser Unique project.

You fall into it. Spiraling through punchlines and poetry, through glitchy visuals and obscure samples, through layers of meaning you didn’t even know you were holding onto. It’s music, sure. But it’s also media theory. Childhood cartoons. Anti-capitalist manifestos. Anime edits. Looney Tunes villains in a digital fever dream.

This is what happens when someone refuses to pick a lane.

Kaiser Unique is a rapper. A producer. A video editor. A curator. A crate-digger with a beatmaker’s instinct and a filmmaker’s eye. Every sound he touches builds a world. Every frame is a breadcrumb. And when it all clicks, you don’t just hear the story, you feel it, visually and viscerally.

It’s abstract hip-hop with soul. Surrealism with punchlines. Depth with humor. A whole damn universe, stitched together with rhythm.

And the best part? He’s just getting started.

Words First, Always

Before the beats.

Before the visuals.

Before the world-building.

There were words.

Kaiser Unique’s creative origin story starts exactly where it should: with a pen and a page. Lyricism made him feel seen in a world that rarely speaks fluent “nerd.” Wu-Tang. Joey Bada$$. MF DOOM. Rappers who didn’t just rhyme, they referenced, they layered, they coded their bars.

I appreciated how layered the lyrics were. How niche their references were. It was all very relatable to me as a fellow nerd.

And the more he studied them, the more he realized: it wasn’t just about clever punchlines. It was about world-building.

Eventually, the pen turned toward beats. Not because he was dying to become a producer, but because crate-digging, sampling, and flipping tracks was another form of storytelling. A continuation of the same obsession.

There’s something magical about being the first to sample a specific song. It’s the treasure hunt part of the job that interests me, not so much the beat making itself but the curation.

That word — curation — shows up a lot in Kaiser’s world because that’s what this is. Not a linear path or a neatly labeled genre, but a mosaic.

Fragments of culture. Obscure audio. Dense lyricism. Nostalgic samples. All stitched together by someone who sees the world through a multi-layered lens.

Before you hear the bars, feel the bass, or watch the video — Kaiser’s already written the blueprint.

You’re just now catching up.

Audio/Visual Alchemy: Building Dreamworlds in Alternative Hip Hop

Kaiser Unique would be wrongly characterized as a New Jersey rapper. He’s a multi-hyphenate artist who blends surreal visuals with experimental hip hop to create something cinematic, layered, and deeply felt.

The foundation? Anime. Arthouse films. AMVs. Lo-fi edits. All of it.

Filmmaking was always an interest of mine. I thought I was gonna work in animation before I got bitten by the music bug.

His earliest inspirations were visual and emotional. Think emotional arcs in anime openings and the chaos of old YouTube edit culture. That tension — between high-concept artistry and DIY energy — still defines his style today.

Music videos get to be nonsensical in a way that plot-heavy films don’t. I like the freedom that it provides me to play with your emotions.

That freedom shows up in every frame.

Watch one of Kaiser’s surreal music videos (like Super Jack’s The Number) and you’ll see it. Colors melting, timelines glitching, footage collaged like a dream that knows it’s dreaming. He’s not just illustrating the music. He’s translating the feeling.

I’m always looking for trippy visuals that express what we can’t by just filming ourselves in front of you.

Even when working with basic tools like iMovie, the intention is high-level.

Good editing isn’t just fancy effects, but the rhythm of where you cut at.

He cuts like someone who understands that timing and tone are what make your brain lock onto an image and feel something.

That's My Ticket Out of Here by Super Jack Music Video

This is New Jersey alternative hip hop filtered through a kaleidoscope. A dream-state built with chopped samples, niche references, layered verses, and film-edit pacing.

You don’t just hear Kaiser’s work, you get pulled into it.

The Abstract Is the Point: Genre Fluidity & Gut-Punched Verses

Kaiser Unique is not interested in neat little boxes.

Sure, he’ll tell you he falls under alternative hip hop or abstract rap, but the moment you think you’ve got him pinned down, he’ll throw a Looney Tunes reference over a militant beat or quote Marshall McLuhan mid-bar.

You never really know what I’m gonna reference…But it all fits. Just follow me down the rabbit hole.

This is experimental rap with a North Jersey twist — gritty, playful, weird on purpose. His early tracks leaned into conscious rap, political edge sharp as a boxcutter. But over time, he let the sillier, nerdier parts of himself bleed into the bars.

And that’s when it really started to click.

Tortoise and the Hare,” despite being hard-hitting, is packed with fairy tale illusions and cartoon nods. “The Deep” and “Peaches & Cream” veer into flirtatious dreamworlds. “Maria” and “If It’s Just Me” sound like pages torn from a diary soaked in doubt and longing.

There’s a constant tension in his sound — serious vs. surreal, message vs. mischief, poetry vs. punchline. But it’s all intentional. Every layer carefully stitched.

And then there’s the process: totally instinctive.

Sometimes the sample leads. Sometimes it’s a line. Sometimes it’s just a feeling he can’t shake. The beat might come first, or the verse. Or maybe the footage. He’ll switch hats — rapper, editor, producer — depending on what the moment calls for.

Whenever I get tired of wearing one hat, I switch to the other.

That fluidity is what keeps burnout at bay. And it’s what keeps his art evolving.

Because for Kaiser, rap is more than music, it’s a channel, a collage, a sandbox. And every new drop is another experiment in how far he can stretch the form without losing the soul.

Super Jack, Surrealism & Creative Collaboration in NJ’s Underground

Some artists meet through business. Others through luck. But the best collaborations come from friendship, the kind where you don’t have to explain your references, you just finish each other’s sentences.

That’s the foundation of Kaiser Unique and Super Jack’s partnership. A bond rooted in mutual weirdness, shared language, and complete creative trust.

Super Jack and I are just friends for real…When you’re around the same person so often, you don’t really have to translate ideas.

That’s why it works.

When they collaborate on music videos, the rhythm is unspoken. Jack and director Adam Bowman usually have a vision for what they want. Kaiser’s job? Bring the chaos. Get the strange angles. Layer the surreal imagery. Find archival footage, animated ephemera, and anything else that can visually match Jack’s sonic world.

It’s my job to get the weird shot angles that stick in your mind…or to find other media to mix in with something else.

Their collabs — like “The Number” and “That’s My Ticket Out of Here” — are more than just visuals slapped on beats. They’re emotion machines, designed to mess with your brain, slow down your heartbeat, or hit you with existential vertigo when you least expect it.

Because Kaiser doesn’t just think about aesthetics.

He thinks about timing. Tone. Structure. And above all, storytelling.

Music videos get to be nonsensical in a way that plot-heavy films don’t. I like the freedom that gives me…When there isn’t a story, it makes the bits with a narrative element that much more potent.

That’s the magic of his NJ collaborations. They’re not bound by industry rules or trending aesthetics. They’re experiments. Friendships. Fragments of a larger vision that’s still unfolding.

And if you zoom out far enough, you start to see the edges of something bigger.

Call it a Kaiser Universe.

Built from beats, cut with VHS static, and stitched together with the kind of creative trust you only find in a few rare places.

Time Capsules & Poetry Cuts: The Personal Projects That Hit Deep

Not every record is a diary, but Yours Truly comes close.

Spanning from late 2019 to early 2024, the album plays like a time capsule of Kaiser Unique’s evolution — a poetic, chopped-up archive of beats, bars, breakdowns, and breakthroughs.

It’s not just a bunch of songs I wrote in the same sitting. These are pieces from different points in my life.

There’s something deeply archival about Kaiser’s approach to music. A kind of sonic scrapbooking. Except instead of glitter and Polaroids, he’s pasting together quotes from poets, lines from films, and pieces of himself all edited like one big collage of influence.

Cling To Me” includes direct quotes from John Ashbery’s Rivers and Mountains. "Mammoths” is stitched together from dialogue in Sorry to Bother You.

It’s experimental, yes, but also deeply intimate.

It’s annotation as artform, flipping cultural references into confessional weapons. The result is a sound that feels both wildly abstract and eerily specific like you’ve cracked open someone’s subconscious and found a perfectly organized filing cabinet.

Even the titles speak in metaphor.

Even the metaphors loop like broken tape.

One moment, you’re caught in a spiral of capitalist critique and identity meditation. The next, you’re laughing at a Looney Tunes reference.

When I first started to rap, I would’ve introduced myself as a conscious rapper…But now I’ve learned to branch out a lot more.

That branching is what makes the music so compelling. One song might be full of fairy tale illusions. Another might be flirty. Another might hit you with an existential left hook mid-verse.

This is hip hop as narrative collage, blending social commentary with abstract storytelling, humor with grief, pop culture with personal myth.

Advice in the Age of Noise

Kaiser Unique isn’t here to sell you a formula. He’ll be the first to admit:

I’m not sure I’ve figured it out myself.

But that honesty is the advice. In a world where every scroll feels like a scream for attention, Kaiser’s calm is radical.

He doesn’t pretend to have all the answers, he just knows who he is.

There’s so much noise we have to compete with as artists. You gotta know your voice. Know your brand.

And in his case, that brand is a breadcrumb trail scattered across songs, beats, visuals, edits, essays. However you first find him, he’s made sure there’s a rabbit hole waiting.

Someone might meet me as a rapper, others as a producer, or a video editor. My job as a creator is to give you enough breadcrumbs so that no matter which rabbit hole you enter from, you end up in the same warren.

It’s a rare kind of artistic consistency, one that doesn’t rely on sameness, but soul.

And yet, he’s not naïve about the world he’s creating in. The algorithms, the branding pressure, the social media grind, it’s all real.

Art rewards originality, but social media doesn’t. It’s good to be different when making art, but don’t be afraid to piggyback off someone else when marketing.

That’s the paradox. Be real, but be strategic.

Throw things at the wall. Test what sticks. Then lead them deeper past the trend, past the thumbnail, into something lasting.

Because in the age of noise?

Being loud isn’t enough.

You’ve gotta be layered.

You’ve gotta be human.

You’ve gotta be ready when the right listener finally presses play.

Where to Find Him

If you’ve made it this far down the rabbit hole, you already know Kaiser Unique isn’t just a rapper, or a beatmaker, or a video editor.

He’s a whole ecosystem. A sonic surrealist. A one-man creative warren of music, media, and meaning.

Whether you found him through a track, a Super Jack video, or a late-night scroll through niche hip hop edits, now’s your chance to go deeper.

Grab the project. Share the videos. Tag your favorite verse. Tell your group chat.

The world he’s building is already in motion, you just have to press play.

Meet Kaiser Unique: The NJ Hip Hop Artist Blending Abstract Rap, Video Art & Storytelling