WHO THE F*CK IS DIRTY DEEDS?
Separated by hundreds of miles but connected by an obsessive love of creation, DIRTY DEEDS is bringing producers, artists, designers, filmmakers, and dreamers together to build something entirely their own.
Most music groups begin in the same room.
DIRTY DEEDS began across Texas.
Austin. Corpus Christi. Weslaco. San Antonio. Different cities, different backgrounds, and different creative disciplines—all connected through FaceTime calls that regularly last an entire day, files sent back and forth at impossible hours, and the shared belief that the right group of people can create something greater than any of them could make alone.
Calling DIRTY DEEDS a music group would only describe part of what it is. It is a creative collective made up of music producers, recording artists, designers, filmmakers, and dreamers. Music may be at its center, but there is no hard boundary around what the group can become. A song can lead to a film. A film can inspire a visual world. A conversation can become a record, a campaign, or the beginning of an idea none of us fully understand yet.
That openness is the entire point.
At the center of the collective is Mercye Evans, known as @yourmercye, a producer whose relationship with sound feels almost impossible to explain.
“Mercye Evans is the best music producer I have ever fucking met.” — Adrian Medina
There is no exaggeration in that statement. Mercye understands how to place sounds together in ways I have never seen or heard anyone else accomplish. His music feels considered without feeling restrained. He hears relationships between sounds that most people would never think to connect, then somehow makes those combinations feel inevitable.
Mercye is also a film fanatic and a genuine music nerd in the purest sense of the word. He does not simply know the biggest directors, musicians, genres, and cultural moments. He knows the histories underneath them—the obscure names, forgotten movements, niche subgenres, technical decisions, and strange details most people would never think to research. Whether the conversation is about a universally celebrated filmmaker or a musical scene that existed for five minutes in one specific place, Mercye probably knows what happened, who influenced it, and why it mattered.
That knowledge gives him an unusually deep creative vocabulary. He does not approach music as disconnected sound. He understands atmosphere, pacing, emotion, references, and the worlds that can exist around a record.
I believe Mercye has the potential to become huge. My role right now is to help him organize the flood of ideas, prepare the music for release, build the visual language around it, and give him the push he has needed to place the work in front of people. Talent like his should not remain hidden inside hard drives, private messages, and unfinished folders. It deserves to be heard.
Then there is Caleb, known as @m3d13y, one of the most talented and genuinely unique people I have ever known.
I met Caleb on Omegle in 2018. Out of every random person we could have been connected with, it turned out that he lived only a few hours away from me. What could have been a brief internet interaction became a friendship that has lasted for years—and eventually became one of the foundations of DIRTY DEEDS.
When I first met him, Caleb was a high-school percussionist, a role he maintained throughout all four years of school. But he never allowed his education to stop at what he was taught in class. Over the years, I watched him push far beyond the boundaries of a normal high-school music program. He kept learning, experimenting, and developing until music seemed less like a subject he studied and more like a language he could speak fluently.
He learned practically every instrument he could put his hands on. He developed an understanding of composition, notation, rhythm, structure, and theory. He can write music, perform intricate riffs, study how a piece works, and then approach it from an entirely different direction.
And on top of everything else, @m3d13y has the voice of an angel.
Introducing Caleb to Mercye felt natural. Their abilities were different but deeply compatible, and from that point forward, we became inseparable. The connection was not manufactured through networking, management, or an industry strategy. It came from people who genuinely enjoyed creating together and recognized something special in one another.
While working remotely from Texas as a designer for Rolling Loud, I would often spend entire days on FaceTime with the group—sometimes close to 15 hours at a time. We would work independently, exchange ideas, play unfinished music, discuss films, design visuals, make jokes, revise concepts, and continue talking long after any normal workday should have ended.
Lately, those digital sessions have begun turning into more frequent in-person meetings. We travel, meet in the same city, shoot videos, develop ideas, and finally bring into one room the energy that had been building across our screens. Every time we work together in person, the potential of DIRTY DEEDS becomes more tangible.
Danny Boy, known as @cudi.xz, brings another essential dimension to the collective. Danny is an incredible producer with a natural ear for music. His chords are rich and groovy. His drums move. His melodies carry emotion without having to force it.
Working alongside Mercye and Caleb, Danny has helped create some of the most beautiful music I have ever heard. Their strengths do not compete with one another—they multiply. One person may introduce a chord progression, another may hear the melody hiding inside it, and someone else may reshape the entire emotional direction of the record. The music becomes a conversation, with each person hearing something the others might have missed.
DIRTY DEEDS is also currently creating with Montell, known as @RNBMSL, an artist we consider nothing short of a GOAT. Montell has a beautiful voice and a wide recording range that allows him to move between ideas without losing his identity. He knows how to become part of a record while still sounding unmistakably like himself.
He also might be the most naturally stylish person in the entire group. Montell is setting the fashion standard within DIRTY DEEDS without even appearing to try. The clothes, the presence, the attitude—it is simply part of who he is. In a collective where music, film, and design constantly overlap, that instinct matters. Sound creates the world, but style helps people recognize it.
@dkthepuffkidd is another artist helping define the collective’s emerging sound. His music lives somewhere between trap, psychedelia, melody, and the beautifully drugged-out edges of the underground. He has an unusual vocal range and a flow unlike anything the rest of us had heard before.
DK is from San Antonio and originally entered our orbit through Danny’s former roommate, affectionately known as Lil Whiskey—not a rapper, just an extremely funny nickname. Mercye heard potential in DK and decided to reach out. Since then, the two have been making music that feels raw, unpredictable, and completely alive.
That instinct—to recognize potential and act on it—is central to DIRTY DEEDS. The collective is not based on numbers, status, or whoever already appears successful. It is about hearing something in another person and helping them bring it forward.
Mercye is in Austin. I am from Corpus Christi. Caleb is from Weslaco. Danny and DK are in San Antonio. On paper, the distance should make everything more difficult. Instead, it has become part of our identity.
We have learned how to create without waiting for perfect circumstances. We work through screens, long drives, late-night calls, voice messages, unfinished exports, and whatever time we can find. Distance has not stopped us from creating. It has not stopped us from becoming close. Most importantly, it has not stopped us from exceeding our own expectations.
In 2026, DIRTY DEEDS is preparing to begin releasing music.
A preview of that future has already been hiding in plain sight. The song featured in the debut ARCHVE MAGAZINE campaign—the cinematic world of the monkey, the package, and the ICON KEYCHAIN SET—is “Jealousy,” a beautiful unreleased record by Mercye. The song is expected to receive its own release soon, turning what began as the soundtrack to a visual campaign into one of the first public steps toward everything we have been building privately.
DIRTY DEEDS is still at the beginning. Much of the music remains unheard, many of the ideas are still being organized, and the full shape of the collective is continuing to reveal itself.
But the foundation is already here.
It exists in the friendships. In the 15-hour FaceTime calls. In the drives across Texas. In the obscure film conversations, unfinished sessions, spontaneous melodies, strange references, and moments when one person’s idea unlocks something inside everyone else.
DIRTY DEEDS is not a group assembled to imitate what is already happening.
It is a group of people who found one another, recognized something rare, and decided to find out how far they could take it.
The distance has never stopped us.
Now it is time for everyone else to hear what we have been making.