The many lives of Torrey Tee

Torrey Tee leads two lives. He’s a rapper who loves to hit the clubs, smoke blunts and talk women. He’s also a working stiff trying to make Sacramento a more youth-friendly place, spending most of his days with developmentally disabled kids.

“Of course I wanna be the rapper and I wanna do all the shows,” he says. “But at the same time, I want to be the catalyst for change in communities I once lived in, from Valley Hi to North Highlands.

“Kids are important; they’re seeds. You gotta give them nutrients and water to help them grow. There’s a lot of poisonous activity out there.”

So when a new rapper asks for advice, Tee passes on one of the biggest tenants of hip-hop: write about what you know, who you are, what you do and where you come from.

Tee didn’t always think that way. He started rapping at age 13, pushing out mixtape after mixtape through high school. His early album covers show him looking a little ridiculous, perched on the hood of a Bentley that he could never afford or surrounded by Gucci bags that he didn’t own. But now, at age 27, he’s segued smoothly into honest lifestyle rap.

More layers: Tee passionately wants to represent his hometown of Sacramento, but he also feels a deep connection to Dallas, where he was born and where much of his family still lives. At the same time, he’s the son of a Nigerian immigrant, and Tee emphasizes those African roots as well. He’s even planning his first-ever trip to Nigeria, hopefully in the next year or two.

“I’m excited to go on my own street with my last name on it—seeing that deep-rooted history is going to be huge for me,” he says. “I think how I approach music is going to be totally different after that.”

Tee’s real last name is Thomas-Ogiamien, but “Torrey Tee” stuck ever since his uncle came up with the nickname when he was just 2 years old. Ogiamien is tricky to pronounce.

No one can guess how Tee’s music might change after coming face-to-face with his family’s history, but it’ll probably continue to be radio-friendly rap with flashier production than most in the underground hip-hop circuit. Still, his ethos has changed quite a bit from just a few years ago, when he signed with management and constantly hustled to open for big acts at Ace of Spades. In 2013, he took a break and went dark, focusing on writing and independence. His show on Friday, April 17, at the Colony will be his first since then.

“When you get managed by someone, you can only take it so far,” he says. “There are some steps you have to take on your own.”

During this hiatus, he’s been focused on a concept album that’s nearly complete—hopefully out in May—and about a weird phenomena: whenever Tee would glance at a clock, it would read 9:16.

With the time also signaling Sacramento’s area code, Tee took it as a push to make a record about everyday life in his town. He started writing down everything he did at 9:16 a.m. and 9:16 p.m., and these random activities will form 9:16, two connected EPs with an accompanying DVD of music videos. There are even short skits with real people who matter to Tee, linking songs together to create a narrative arc. The first album will build to a cliffhanger, then pick back up with the second record’s climax and conclusion.

“I’m trying to make timeless music,” he says. “I’m not trying to put out content to put out content—I’m not a microwave artist.”