Chris Gambol: The Evolution of a Multifaceted Creative
Photos by Jordan Somers
By Emma Schwichtenberg
Chris Gambol, also known as Note Work, has navigated the worlds of music and digital media with remarkable passion and adaptability. Starting in the late 1980s during hip-hop's Golden Era, Gambol began writing rhymes and honing his skills, influenced by the legendary artists of the time. His dedication led to the formation of the group Narcotik, under the umbrella of Tribal Productions, a collective that significantly impacted Seattle's music scene.
As the 2000s approached, Gambol's creativity extended beyond music. The digital revolution captivated him, and he transitioned into videography, pioneering music videos at a time when the medium was just beginning to take shape. This move allowed him to stay relevant in the ever-evolving entertainment landscape, working with both established and emerging artists.
In 2015, Gambol founded "Alive and Black," a brand that reflects his vision of promoting positive Black experiences through media. Influenced by the "Alive While Black" hashtag on Twitter, Gambol sought to shift the narrative, focusing on thriving rather than just surviving. Today, "Alive and Black" is undergoing a transition, moving from content creation to consulting, helping others elevate their work and reach broader audiences.
Gambol continues to be a driving force behind the scenes, curating opportunities for content creators while still staying connected to his musical roots. With new projects on the horizon, including a potential reunion with his old tribal group and the possibility of new music, Gambol remains a dynamic and influential figure in the creative community.
Converge Music recently interviewed Gambol, discussing his evolution from music to videography and reflecting on his experiences in the industry over the years.
How did you get started in music?
I think the pursuit of music probably started around the transition between middle school and high school. This was during hip hop’s Golden Era, around 1988-1990. At the time, I was already writing rhymes, but I didn’t have the resources to take it beyond that. It wasn’t until I met people who had the means to help us make music that I realized we could do this for real. So, around 1989-1990, I decided to take it seriously.
How did you continue with music after high school while pursuing other things?
Through high school and even my first few years out, music was the only thing on my mind. This was the mid-90s, with Tupac, Biggie, Nas—these legends were like peers to us. We were heavily influenced by them, but we also knew that if we ever crossed paths with them, we’d have to prove ourselves. So, writing lyrics and honing our skills was everything. After high school, it became real—no longer just battling in hallways or doing a few shows here and there. We were focused on turning music into a career. With the support of friends like Vitamin D and the late Taj Randall aka Tizzy T, we kept going. We started making our own demo tapes and connected with people through that. It didn’t stop after school; it’s been a continuous journey to where we are today.
What different groups have you been a part of?
I was part of a group called Narcotik, with a "K" at the end. We were under a production company called Tribal Productions, which was like a small conglomerate of artists from different backgrounds. It was very Wu-Tang-like in how we came together. Tribal Productions was a huge influence on my music journey. Besides that, we worked with a label called Sportn’ Life Music for a bit. I also had the opportunity to work with Jake One, a really good producer out of Seattle. That collaboration helped further the name of Narcotik and the work we were doing.
Moving forward a bit into the 2000s, what was your involvement with music then?
In the 2000s, I was definitely involved with a project produced by Jake One. That project came out of my connections with Narcotik and Tribal Productions. It was great to have that circle come back together.
Are you still making music today?
I’m more involved on the ancillary side now, not so much producing music but working with artists to produce content. We still do a few shows under the Tribal or Narcotik brand—more like reunion gigs. I still write here and there, and there might be a few sneaky projects in the works, but I’m not as active in making music as I used to be.
How did you come up with your names "Note Work" and "C-Note."
Yeah, I’ve gone through a few cycles with my name. "C-Note" was my original breakout name when I started with Narcotiks. There wasn’t a huge thought process behind it; it just kind of happened when I was transitioning from another name that was better known in the streets. I didn’t want to connect my new work directly to that, so I tried something else. At that time, I was essentially the executive producer for a lot of the music we were making. We financed and released our own project back in '95, which was pretty rare back then. We did it on cassette, so that tells you how far back that was. We’d go into stores, and the local music section might have only two or three tapes. So "C-Note" made sense at the time, representing the top dollar line and the business side of what we were doing. But as I started doing other things, I realized it wasn’t just about money anymore. I thought, "Busta makes rhymes, Swiss makes beats, so what does Note do?" He works. So that’s where "Note Work" came from. It’s what I do—I work, and what I do works.
How did you transition from music to making video content? Was video the first step away from music being your main focus?
It’s funny you ask that because both are kind of true. It was a digital transformation that started with music. When I first started, everything was analog—cassette tapes, four-track recorders, reel-to-reel in the studio. Then, around the early 2000s, I saw someone using what was probably one of the first versions of Pro Tools, and it blew my mind. The idea that we could record vocals and fix them digitally was revolutionary. That was my first taste of digital, and it was the same with video. A buddy of mine was into digital film, and he showed me something like Final Cut Pro. It was like, "Wait, you can just shoot, digitize, and chop it up on a computer?" That was incredible to me, it changed everything. By 2000, the music group I was with was transitioning; we weren’t sure what direction to take. I needed to stay creative, and video seemed like the next step. I even remember thinking it would be dope to have an album that was just videos, a complete visual experience. This was way before Beyoncé and others started doing it. When YouTube came out in 2003 or 2004, I bought equipment and started making videos to promote music. There weren’t many videographers back then, so it made a lot of sense. It was a way to stay relevant and connect with both old and new artists. Everyone needed a video, so I got to work with people I had always wanted to and discover new talent.
It feels like you all are part of an era in music, especially within the community. You've seen that community and Seattle as a whole change. How did it feel to be a part of that end of an era? Did you even think of it that way at the time?
I don't think we were really fully aware of it at the time. We were all growing as individuals, going in different directions—some starting families, others pursuing music as a livelihood. It never felt like an official end. There was no moment where we sat down and said, "This is it." Things just naturally flowed in different directions, but most of us are still connected and work together. When I think about it now, the community was changing almost simultaneously with us, which adds a different wrinkle to it. It wasn't a natural transition, but in a way, it felt like the end of one thing and the beginning of something else.
I feel like it's easy to look back now and realize what that period of time was when you're out of it. You get a clearer outlook with age and experience.
Definitely. Hindsight gives you a much clearer perspective. Even in this conversation, I'm picking up on things I haven't thought about in a long time. Speaking from a slightly removed position now, it's easier to look back on it all.
When did your videography transfer into "Alive and Black"?
That was probably around 2015. Before that, I was doing mostly music videos. As a creative, I approach everything from the foundation of an emcee or rapper, always looking for ways to evolve. With videography, I wanted to create something that stood out, like a brand or character people could immediately relate to. Once I got past the idea of centering it around myself, I began thinking about how to use this media to open eyes or get people to think differently about what's happening in the world. The transition to "Alive and Black" started around then.
What inspired the creation of "Alive and Black"?
"Alive and Black" was influenced by a Twitter hashtag, "Alive While Black," where people shared horrific stories of their experiences as Black individuals. It made me think about what it means to be alive—whether it's just surviving or thriving. I wanted to flip the narrative and focus on showing positive experiences of Black people, working with artists, galleries, and startups to promote their businesses. The new weapon is the camera, and I realized that the content we create has the power to influence how we see ourselves and our community.
"Alive and Black" is undergoing a transition, shifting from content creation to behind-the-scenes consulting. The focus is now on helping people leverage their existing content and getting it in front of audiences. The company is growing, with an emphasis on curation and creating opportunities for others who are producing content. On the music front, there are upcoming opportunities for the old tribal group to reunite, with a new project in the works. There's a strong possibility that new music will be released soon, and performances are also planned, so fans should stay tuned.
Find Gambol on Instagram @notework and Alive and Black @alivexblack.
