Indie Christian rappers weren’t supposed to win the NPR Tiny Desk fan vote.
They’re definitely not supposed to do it twice.
But nobigdyl. doesn’t follow the rules — and he doesn’t need to. This year, he became the only artist in Tiny Desk history to win back-to-back fan favorite honors, doing it with a track that had no hook, no label, no PR machine — just raw lyricism, quiet conviction and a message about being made in the image of God.
“That was the point,” he said. “I knew ‘Imago Interlude’ might not win the official contest, but it had to be heard. That was the mission.”
And it was. The performance struck a nerve with listeners and even caught NPR off guard. One producer admitted they hadn’t realized it was Christian music — a comment that still makes nobigdyl. laugh.
“It’s one of my most explicitly Christian songs,” he said. “But I think it reveals something deeper — people assume Christian music is going to sound bad. So when it doesn’t, they don’t know what to do with it.”
That tension — between low expectations and high execution — is exactly where nobigdyl. thrives. Over the last year, he’s quietly turned in the biggest season of his career: a viral Tiny Desk submission, an out-of-nowhere collaboration with Memphis rap legend Project Pat, a bold new EP made in seven days, and the most ambitious version yet of his indie music festival, Holy Smoke. All without watering down a single word of his message.
“I don’t think we just started making excellent music,” he said. “Christians have been doing that. It just hasn’t always had the visibility. That’s what’s changing now.”
Part of that change is the Soul Brother EP — a left-field, genre-hopping project recorded with platinum producer Kato on the Track. The idea came out of nowhere. One day, nobigdyl. posted on Instagram that he wanted to make a full project in seven days with one producer. Kato responded. They booked an Airbnb. And the challenge was on.
“I wanted a creative constraint,” he said. “When you don’t have unlimited time or resources, you have to rely on instinct. You don’t second-guess every bar. You have to trust your collaborators. And you invite God into the process in a new way.”
The result was a strange, soulful, deeply honest record that doesn’t sound like anything else in Christian hip-hop right now — and that’s kind of the point. One of its biggest surprises is a feature from Project Pat, an unexpected pairing that ended up working better than anyone could have planned.
“Pat had done a song with Kato before, and we had this leftover verse,” nobigdyl. said. “We dropped it in to test it, and it felt good. So we sent it over to Pat’s team, and he actually liked the track so much, he wrote an entirely new verse just for the song.”
Another standout on the project is longtime friend and collaborator Sarah Juers, whose combination of joy and depth mirrors nobigdyl.’s own approach to faith and music.
“She’s hilarious in real life, just a really fun person,” he said. “But her music carries so much weight — spiritual and emotional. I think that’s what the Christian walk looks like. We carry both the joy and the sorrow at the same time.”
That same blend of vulnerability and vision drives Holy Smoke, the indie Christian music festival nobigdyl. co-founded in Nashville. This year marks its fifth anniversary, and the 2025 lineup signals a shift: away from legacy names and toward the next generation.
“We’ve had Lecrae, KB, Andy Mineo — and we love them,” he said. “But this year we wanted to put the spotlight on the newer voices. The ones who haven’t had the chance to headline a stage with LED walls and smoke machines and a sold-out crowd.”
He compares Holy Smoke to Tyler, The Creator’s Camp Flog Gnaw — a place where artists aren’t just expected to show up, but to bring something fully formed, fully thoughtful and fully excellent.
“At some festivals, people just plug in their tracks and maybe shout a few ad-libs,” he said. “But this is about crafting an experience. Every set should be intentional. That’s the culture we’re trying to build.”
For nobigdyl., it’s about more than good vibes. It’s about making space for Christian artists to create without having to shrink. Without having to choose between artistry and authenticity.
The world, he believes, is ready.
“People are tired of emptiness,” he said. “They’re craving something with substance — even if they can’t name it yet. That’s where Christian music can show up and say, ‘We’ve got something real to offer.’”
And if they don’t even realize it’s Christian music?
“That’s fine,” he said. “As long as they’re listening.”
