Mahlick Confronts Grief, Growth, and the Passage of Time on New EP ‘Time Will Tell.’

Twin Cities-born hip-hop artist, writer, and sound designer Mahlick has released his deeply personal EP, Time Will Tell., a reflective project examining grief, relationships, mental health, and the complicated process of learning to move forward. Drawing from his Midwest roots and creative experiences in Southern California, Mahlick approaches the release with a strong sense of purpose, pairing intricate instrumentals with emotionally grounded lyricism.

At its core, Time Will Tell. examines how easily we can become spectators in our own lives. Mahlick addresses his experiences with isolation, self-sabotage, and the loss of loved ones, confronting the uncomfortable reality that sometimes our greatest obstacles come from within.

What makes the project particularly interesting is its perspective on healing. Rather than presenting personal growth as a dramatic transformation, Mahlick acknowledges the quieter victories: allowing yourself to rest, reconnecting with your community, and recognizing that happiness doesn’t always need to be earned through struggle.

His background in sound design adds another dimension to his creative approach. There’s a deliberate emphasis on storytelling, with hip-hop serving as the foundation for something more intimate and introspective.

The project’s accompanying visual for “Feed,” released October 19, 2026, extends these conversations beyond the music. Created alongside Flat Memory Media and directed by Sergio Vázquez-Mora, the video draws inspiration from Carrie Mae Weems’ Kitchen Table Series, exploring emotional distance, relationships, and the importance of showing up for the people who matter.

It’s a fitting extension of an EP concerned with how we spend our limited time and what we choose to prioritize.

Ultimately, Time Will Tell. succeeds in presenting a perspective that feels both personal and widely relatable. Mahlick isn’t offering easy answers or pretending that healing happens overnight. Instead, he documents the work involved in getting there and reminds listeners that the present deserves as much attention as whatever comes next.

You mentioned that Time Will Tell. was originally written as a message to your younger self. If that younger version of you could hear the finished EP today, which song do you think would mean the most to him, and why?

I believe the song, “Oxygen.” would mean the most to him. Before the track was made in its current release, the song was practically fragments of lines and stanzas - constantly cycling through a variation of beats over a five-year period. My younger self really wanted this song to work out. It was a series of trial and error; always landing on the tracklist of past project ideas that still sit on my hard drive. I believe Oxygen. is a clear testament to the perseverance it took to still release music and get out of my own way to share what I had with the world. I believe my younger self would be relieved it is finally out and not trapped in the nameless and untitled WAVs in a folder, within a folder.

Your background spans music, writing, and sound design. How have those disciplines shaped how you approach hip-hop production and storytelling, especially on this project?

Writing - particularly playwriting - has shaped the storyteller in me. While I have been in music longer than any other form, for the longest time I kept my music process very quick and on a time crunch. Playwriting has taught me that there is no time limit to your script; that it can evolve in multiple ways before it gets to its “final” form. But even then, the saying goes that “a play is never done.” When I apply this work to my music - while I do seek an end to the recording/mixing process - the story of the music lives on in other ways, such as music videos or someone’s personal playlist. In addition, playwriting has given me the opportunity to slow down on my songwriting and think more methodically about how I should write this, and who the song is intended for.

Sound design has kept my mind in constant research and always thinking about the world of a play through the sonic perspective. This craft keeps me on my toes and forces me to be creative in ways that are hard to explain in a visual sense. This process has directly impacted my music, as it keeps my mind open when writing a beat or configuring other ways to make a song beyond just lyrics and an instrumental.

3. You speak openly about isolation and self-sabotage interfering with your artistic ambitions. Was there a specific moment when you realized you needed to change your relationship with creativity, or did that understanding develop gradually?

A couple of years ago, I was reading Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act: A Way of Being. This book opened my eyes to the reality that it takes much more to be an artist than sitting in front of Ableton and making a beat. It is an act/way of being. One’s worldview and experience help shape one’s story. The biggest chapter that stood out to me was when Rubin mentioned - to paraphrase - “now is the time to take your work out to folks who you appreciate feedback from. It’s all subjective, and you have the choice to share with or

without changes, but it is vital to get perspective from folks who have not spent the same amount of time on your project.”

I think a big part of my isolation was recognizing that all of my music process was solo. I wanted to be the songwriter, producer, engineer, and beyond. And while we are in the age of DIY and having the ability to do a lot with our own resources, at times we need other voices and perspectives to help us think beyond our world for a moment. I found myself constantly stuck in a creative block. Until… one day I ran into an audio engineer, Arjun Rao, at an event through a mutual friend. He was one of the first engineers in LA who took me seriously. After the first session, we completed a full draft of one of the first singles off of Time Will Tell.

“INK.” Throughout the session, I was getting substantial feedback from him, especially on the essence of the delivery of the lyrics, overall performance, and the importance of takes. It kept me present for the first time in a while in a recording session.

This was a pivot for me at that time (2024), as it was my first song in collaboration with an engineer, and it showed me that there is more to the process than just me and my thoughts. It takes a team. This is the moment I took the opportunity to place myself in rooms and around folk that can help uplift my craft. Suddenly, those feelings of self-sabotage started to transform when I realized I was overthinking my music process. This translated into my music video ideas as well when I felt like INK. was the perfect song to catapult me into a process of creative vision.

The visual for “Feed” draws inspiration from Carrie Mae Weems’ Kitchen Table Series and examines the emotional distance that can develop between people. What attracted you to that particular visual reference, and how did working with Sergio Vázquez-Mora help translate the song’s message to film?

I always loved Carrie Mae Weems’s Kitchen Series. It is a series I have known about since I was a teenager, and around that time I was at the cross section of reading and interpreting works from black legends like Walter Dean Myers, Gwendolyn Brooks, August Wilson, and so many more. I never knew it would become something I would utilize as inspiration for any of my work. But honestly, Feed. was a song that felt very personal to me. At the time that I wrote it, I was extremely exhausted with the internet - social media, to be specific. This added to the reclusivity that I dealt with through some years. But I also felt it was a place of intense conflict: feeling like social media does nothing to improve my day-to-day life and is merely a distraction, yet it is a powerful tool for an artist like me trying to get exposure in my crafts.

“Feed.” was a conversation of this conflict and was both a reflection and desire for a certain future; a life that has given all of its purpose from all of the sacrifices in my life to make sure my family and friends are straight, my priorities and debts are paid off, my career is at peak success, and then, remove myself from all platforms and live off the grid somewhere.

I feel like the Kitchen Series stumbled into my mind once I completed the song. The image of the woman, alone in the robe- this was the first image that popped into my head while I was playing “Feed.” on repeat in the car. I was fixed on it, and I knew someone like Sergio would be good at encapsulating this idea and expanding it to connect further in the music video. We worked on looking at the Kitchen Series more closely and picked out about fifteen to twenty photos out of the work for inspiration. We slimmed them down to about eight images and built our storyboard around this. The images told such a clear story; it did not take long for us to emulate the same emotion based on the lyrics in FEED.

One of the strongest ideas behind Time Will Tell. is that time continues moving regardless of whether we’re ready. As you enter this next chapter of your career, what are you no longer willing to postpone, personally or creatively?

I will no longer get in my own way. I will own all of me through this artistic journey. I want everyone to witness this not as a random creative trip, but as an intentional shift in what I believe to be the future of my artistry. I have so many ideas swirling in my head, and I am on a mission to share as many as humanly possible. Some ideas may feel unwarranted,

Some - perhaps - reaching someone in need right on time. I want to leave behind a legacy not centered on what I did not do, but what I did do and how it shaped me as a person and my kinfolk.