"Although I didn't write this song, it spoke to me in a way that made me feel as if it was my own story,” Brandon said. “I found myself playing it over and over again in my bedroom, remembering situations that I've been through.”
Check out the video for yourself below.
So, how’s your day been so far?
It’s been wet.
Oh really?
Yeah, my house is leaking.
Wow, that is wet.
I’ve been mopping up puddles all over the place.
Do you have any secret talents?
Well, gee. I’ve been playing violin since I was four years old — I learned to play music by ear. I went to conservatory but I still learned the classical repertoire as if it was folk music. I got into early jazz in my late teens and I started writing when I was working at a Renaissance Fair.
No way!
Yeah. I was the fiddling serf. I had drawstring pants and floppy pants and a floppy shirt and a floppy hat.
That’s quite the start.
Anyway, I couldn't play for a while and that's when I started writing. To master the violin, you have to practice at the exclusion of almost everything else, but before I got so serious about this one instrument, I was a more well-rounded, more interesting person. You know, fully committing your time and energy to one thing is what it takes to master that particular practice, but that kind of dedication can also be harmful because it limits your scope. Writing enables you to exercise a different set of skills, like creativity and critical thinking. That’s why I started writing.
You touched upon it earlier, but I heard that you are proficient in a range of instruments. I know you started off with the violin and I read that you even play the glockenspiel. Could you tell me a little bit about what drew you towards those specific instruments?
I didn't get into playing rock and roll by purchasing a guitar, or with the intention of bagging chicks or something like that, it truly stemmed from my obsession with the violin. The guitar is often considered the go-to for the troubadours because it doesn’t press up against your vocal cords, which is helpful for singing. Teaching myself how to play the guitar and the glockenspiel was just kind of something I stumbled on because my singing voice is very mid-rangy. It creates the same kind of frequencies, then the glockenspiel cuts through all the other sounds that I'm making, so I thought it was a nice way to expand the palette I was already working with. This is part of my identity as a musician; looping the same kinds of mid-range frequencies and to create some variation and texture. So with most of the instruments I play, learn as much as I need — except for the violin, which took years and years of suffering to master.
How did the single ‘Bloodless’ set the tone for the rest of your completed project?
It was that extra umph in terms of lyrics and overall message — ‘Bloodless’ is everything that I was trying to do. As far as the way it sounds, I'm into making records that you couldn’t replicate any other way, it would be impossible to go in and capture that sound again. My single is called ‘Bloodless’ because it harnesses the phenomena of the instruments bleeding into one another to create a single, unified, and harmonious entity. It's a really challenging thing to do. It goes against most conventional record-making techniques that have been practiced for the last forty years. That kind of stuff fascinates me. But as far as the lyrics go, I tried to strike that balance between metaphors, explicit reality, and the sense of the urgency behind the messages and content. That was the trick with this record — the material felt very urgent, very pressing, but if I didn’t find the perfect way to express it if the content was expressed too explicitly, or if the presentation was too on the nose, you run the risk of losing people. ‘Bloodless’ pushed that line as far as meaningful places and dates; there's a lot of references to what was happening in Spain in the thirties with fashion, and that goes a little bit further than I usually like to go. But sometimes, in order to really unpack something that's important, you have to push that line. But we nailed that song, it was the perfect encapsulation of what I was trying to say on so many levels, and I feel like we got it.
There were many hints of Greek mythology throughout this project. Can you speak to the inspiration that it served to you?
That was kind of accidental. I called one song Olympians and the other song Sisyphus, both of which refer to Greek mythology. I've always regarded certain moments in history as perspectives or points of reference to what’s happening now. If you refer to names and places that correlate to a specific moment in time, it becomes a current event, it becomes part of your newsfeed, information that you devalue, whether consciously or not, you know what I mean?
I think we need some perspective right now. I'm not insisting that people who listen to the songs would know right off the top on first listen, or be familiar with what I'm talking about, but it takes about three minutes to look it up. I stumbled upon this concept when I was thinking of the word 'precipice,' being on the edge of massive change, and crossing that threshold of change just a couple of centimeters away. There are all sorts of aspects you can pull out of certain moral scenarios from myth. What I chose to take from that particular story is that Sisyphus didn't have much choice. His punishment was to push his rock up the hill for eternity, so my propensity towards suffering is more voluntary than this situation. But it’s taught me about the individual, the community, and responsibility for what happens when you let the rock roll. What's the collateral damage. It's a lot to unpack. That's all.
I feel like a lot of your work revolves around a sort of holiness, perhaps even a higher power. What aspects of this project plays into this sort of higher power beyond yourself?
I like titles that operate on multiple levels. So, first of all, the project could be making a commentary on how we’re not exactly living in an age of discretion. Even I, who was raised in such a way that making such pronounced statements wasn’t very cool, partake in it. But I've made 14 records now, and you know, who am I kidding? Do you want to hear another poetic, obscure title to call this body of work, or should it just cut to the chase?
Call it what it is.
That being said, I feel like more and more I need to say things were clearly in my writing. I'm just sort of entertaining myself internally through this conversation with myself. But I'm projecting things outwardly, I'm thinking about who I am speaking to. With this record, there was a sense of urgency, but not a sense of duty — that was played out after the election. It was like a “call to arms” and people saying we have a duty as artists, then you're like wait a minute, I don't have a duty to anybody, but it’s important to be receptive to what’s going on in the world around you. There's this sense of urgency and heaviness and importance that I kind of had to tamper with.
We live in a time where it's more dangerous to not say something than to say something.
I don't think it does any good to say that people just “don't get” a song because lyrics aren’t the end-all and be-all of generating meaning, they’re just one of many ways in which the artist communicates. I think 2019 is just a tricky time to write a song with a message in comparison to hiring a songwriter to verbalize a feeling or an idea. People are so jaded and very sensitive, whether consciously or subconsciously, to the feeling of being talked down to or preached to. The only songs that I've heard out there that are getting to the gatekeepers, the only songs getting on the radio, that possess any hint of social consciousness that I'm aware of, tend to be cut from the “these are troubled times” cloth — those don’t hold any weight, they aren’t saying anything, you know? If you actually want to elevate the conversation or tackle some of these pervasive issues, you really need to know what you’re saying, you need that specificity. Or is that the job of a songwriter? I don't know. But I'm going to give it a try.
I think that this all ties into what you've been saying, especially in your wanting to give the audience more credit, wanting to be more genuine. Can you describe the significance of recording live?
I just hear it. I hear when a song is recorded on a grid, with a click, with multiple overdubs and just over-processed — it just feels paper-thin. So recording live bits is just part of my overall ethos of reacting to my environment, that’s my guiding principle. I think that the most beautiful about recording live is that when a performance happens, if you want to change a vocal you have to change everything else.
My Finest Work Yet is out now.
You can hear, and see, the difference. Whereas 2017's Abysmal Thoughts carried on the dreamy, melancholic and elusive art that The Drums became known for, Brutalism is comparatively a workout in pop pilates, Pierce's personal quest to see just how much he can stretch his sound, and his vulnerability, while still remaining true to his underdog sensibilities. Album opener "Pretty Cloud" sets the stage for this progression: a 90's video game-like synth drives the track, while Pierce sings about a lover being like a cloud in the sky, pretty but distant. "626 Bedford Avenue" is perhaps the hook-iest song on the record, its whimsical guitar framing Pierce's sweet tenor while it finds its way up to the sky, then right back down again. Brutalism's cover is a closeup of Pierce's face framed by bold primary colors—something you definitely would not have seen on The Drums records in the past.
"Sad pop" is a thing, maybe now more than ever. In the age we currently live in, adolescence is still depressing, angst is still ubiquitous, and the art being released is reflecting that. But now a decade into their career, The Drums have been making music for outsiders since their inception. It's just that now, Jonny Pierce is experimenting in finding his way out of his darkness instead of basking in it—turning his pain into progress.
How has your press tour been? Did you just come back from Europe?
Yes, it was good. I really liked Paris. I really liked Amsterdam. It’s going really good. We did some photo shoots, talked about myself for eight hours a day.
How was that? I’m sure it’s much different now that you are essentially solo, right?
Yes it is, definitely. I get to hit things on the nose, instead of spending half of the interview talking about things that are not important to me. It’s this new found joy in my life. I don’t know, I feel like I am just now stepping into what an artist really is. I feel like I have always sort of been on the edge of calling myself an artist and self-identifying as an artist, a proper artist. I think that the only way you can really call yourself an artist is when you really understand yourself on some level. I was watching the Kusama documentary and even though Kusama deals with mental health, she understands what she needs and who she is. She understands what her fears are and understands her strengths and how to survive for her and her specific situation. I think that is why her art is so amazing. She has an understanding of herself. I feel like I’m doing that just now, and I’m in my mid-30s.
It took a minute.
Yeah, it took a minute. It took really conscious choices. I’ve always been someone who romanticizes everything, between pain and confusion, especially because I was playing with the moniker of artists. It was my crutch always. "I’m really depressed, but you know what, I’m creative. We are supposed to be different." I don’t think that is modern, that’s MAGA. That’s old fashioned. That’s 80’s. I want to be modern. I want to be in the future. I want to be leaning towards the future. I think what’s modern is taking your life by the horns. The superficial, “I want to be king of the hill"—That’s MAGA, too. I want to be the best version of myself. I want to be the best artist I can be. I want to be the best human I can be and the only way to do that is to figure out who the fuck I am.
So, I started going to therapy. I started to eat differently. I started pulling away from the party scene and surrounding myself with people who understand me more, instead of people who don’t. It all aims toward loving myself versus just stumbling through life until it is over. I’m not attracted to that idea anymore. I want to be particular, and that's also why the new record is a bit more focused and structured. It has a dreamy element to it, but it is not out of tune guitars. It doesn’t feel like it is held together by scotch tape. There is something that feels sure about it. I think it is a reflection of making choices that are really more particular because I’m doing that I am figuring out who I am as an artist and what I want to do. There is less of a dreaminess. That was a really long answer.
You said you like to romanticize pain. I feel like I do that all the time. I low-key enjoy being sad. Is that something that has always permeated your music, or just recently?
I’ve thought about this a lot, so I’m really glad you asked. I think that joy and sadness are two emotions that are a lot closer to each other than we think they are. I think they really compliment each other. In our joyful times, there is a sadness. The joy will inevitably disappear at some point. In our sad times, I think, for me, when I am sad or depressed sometimes, there is a sliver of joy. I think part of that is because feeling sad or feeling depressed means we are feeling. It taps us into the human side of us. It kind of shows us that we are alive. I think that there is this inherent subconscious joy that flutters in, even in moments of sadness. There is something pure about those moments, endorphins in a way. Maybe they aren’t endorphins. Sadness is just so beautiful sometimes. Again, that’s me romanticizing it. Beauty is pain, but it’s also a reminder that you are human.
As opposed to just being numb.
Yeah. You know I’ve said this a few times on this press tour, but I don’t think you can be intelligent and not carry sadness with you every single day.
Every artist is sad.
Yeah, I guess so, if you’re a good artist.
Why the name Brutalism? I feel like that name kind of encapsulates what you just said, in a certain sense.
It certainly does. I mean, during the making of this album, I moved and I fell in love with someone. He lived in Brussels, of all places. I moved there to be with him. I didn’t really identify anywhere else in my life as home, so I thought, why not live with him. So, we got an apartment, moved in, and it was a terrible experience. I’ve always loved the brutalist architecture and type, but Brussels has a lot of that.
So, it's a type of architecture?
Yes. It’s really dark and heavy. Have you seen the FIT building here in New York? That’s an example of a Brutalist building. The rooms that are all concrete, really excessive amounts, small windows usually. They're heavy. They're hard. They're impractical. They are also beautiful. That is how I would describe my relationship when I was in Brussels. So it just felt really fitting. I had been aware of these buildings forever. I just love them, so showing up in Brussels and being surrounded by these buildings, and kind of seeing my life played out in them was just a reflection of my heart and where I was going and what I was doing. I moved back and wrapped up the record and kept that name. It just felt really fitting. I’m a big lover. I kind of go for it. There’s this quote that I try to live by, “All of our weaknesses are our strengths taken to excess.” Being loving, of course, is a strength, but taken to an excess where you forget about loving yourself, taking care of yourself, it becomes a weakness. And same with generosity, it’s great to be generous.
But if you’re too generous...
Yes, people can take advantage of you, or it’s a sign that you aren’t really taking care of yourself. You’re seeking approval. I try to remind myself of that all the time, to not be too excessive about things, but it’s really hard for me. My mom and dad are both pastors, we went to anti-gay marches… I spent my whole childhood seeking their approval. Bending over backward to have them say I was a good son. I think I developed a pattern which I carried into my teenage years and then to my adult years. I still deal with this every day. I have a tendency to do things for people, that included people in the band, like Jacob and Connor. I wanted their approval, so I would change the art I would make to reflect something that I thought I wanted to be a part of. I thought I wanted a pat on the back. I wanted someone to say, “You’re so great,” and so, again, that’s an example of not being loving towards myself. That’s why I say, I feel like those aren't really records. That’s why I can’t call myself a full-on artist. I reserve that word for a time when I can know that it is not my concern to make sure that other people are happy with what I am doing.
To not overcompensate.
Yes. To not change anything. This is what I want to do, I’ll do it. I think that’s also part of, I don’t want to sound like a dick, but there are a lot of bands that started when we started and had a part in the scene, and now they are all gone. The Drums are still here because I’ve learned to not give a fuck. I love pop music and I’m going to make a pop record. I love when things sound bad sometimes, so I’m going to make this sound bad. I just am stepping into who I am, and that sometimes means doing things that are a bit risky and scary, but I think a byproduct of that is that the band remains kind of fresh. The sound remains fresh because I’m not interested in clicking into anything. I’m just going to do my thing.
People want to see evolution.
Evolution is modern. I literally think about Donald Trump, and people who want to keep everything the same. I don’t want to die with the past. I certainly don’t want to be some asshole who is holding on to this idea of what’s great. I’m at a point in my life where I am more curious than I have ever been. I think that is kind of the key. It’s a balance, I guess. As an artist, you want to honor your artistic voice. I think that part of being modern and part of being part of the future is remaining open on some level. Leave some openness so you can just be infused with ideas, so they can bounce off of older ideas you have and make something that is relevant.
The standout track for me was “Nervous,” so beautiful. Tell me about that song, because it felt different than the rest of the songs.
I wrote that three years ago during Abysmal Thoughts, that era. I had just gone through a divorce. I was married to a Dutch guy who was a really lovely person. It was one of those things where, for one reason or another, it just didn’t work. We were both really sad that it wasn’t working. I think we both really love each other still in a different way, so that song is by far my most delicate, and I think it’s pretty personal. My feelings were still so raw when I made that, I wasn’t ready to offer it over to the world. Maybe I would now. Maybe I’m at a different space now, where I feel strong enough to just put it out there. At the time I was pretty fragile and still very, very lost. It was too much too soon, so it made it on this record.
Do you think it fit better on this record than it would on Abysmal Thoughts? Sonically?
Yeah I do. There’s something polished about the guitar playing. I think this album needed a track. That track sort of anchors the album in a way. It is one of those songs that staples the album to the floor. That’s kind of why I like “Loners” too, but for a totally different reason. I love pop music, so I love writing big choruses. I like movement and a dynamic quality. So it’s nice to have songs like that.
Where did you start writing this album? In Brussels?
No, I went to this little cabin in upstate New York, about an hour from where I grew up actually. I bought this cabin to win my parents' approval, it’s on this lake. This place where my father always wanted a cabin. I bought it to sort of bridge me to my parents. It didn’t work. So I have this cabin up there and I was like, this is a prime spot to write because there is so much tension there. There is a lot of emotional stuff going on. I did most of my demos up there and brought in my drummer and my guitar player for extra help with writing and recording, which was a first. Usually, it was all up to me to do it all.
This time around I had help. Imagine that? reaching out for help, instead of feeling like I had to do everything. I also think that by me doing everything that it was that pattern of seeking approval from critics and that, “Wow you did it all.” What brings me joy is having lyrics that really speak to me and speak to other people, that’s so much more important to me than saying, “Oh, I played the harpsichord too.” Who cares? Who gives a fuck? Nobody gives a fuck, and if they do they give a fuck for like, two seconds.
Do you have a good relationship with your parents now, or no?
Not good. A good relationship would imply that they are gay-friendly and celebrate people for who they are, and until they are that, it can never be a good relationship. I’m not willing to compromise with anyone, including people who are related to me. You’ve got to appreciate me for who I am, so I can appreciate you for who you are.
Do you find everything in your life going back to that toxic relationship dynamic?
A little less, but it’s very easy to find myself behaving in ways that tie back to the patterns. I think about a lot of times, I find myself recently thinking about my parents dying at the end of their lives, and the admiration of my mother on her deathbed, and I get really sad sometimes, to think about her dying and thinking about how I always envision myself being there. I have five siblings. I envision seeing them through, taking care of them. The one that they couldn’t accept is making sure that they are okay, but I think if I’m real with myself, it would be a last-ditch effort to have them finally say, maybe with their last dying breath, “He was a good kid. He was a good son.” So, I have to really figure out if that’s why I see myself helping them. Is it because I want that approval?
Do you ever analyze your dreams?
I don’t really dream. I’m not really a dreamer. It’s weird.
Brutalism is out now via ANTI- Records.
Let's talk about the new album. How’d you land on the title ‘Ride Waves’?
I feel like life is all about balance, and in the creative process for this record things weren’t always very good - but things weren’t always that bad either. It was somewhere in between. So I just try to keep my head above water - keep surfing. So ‘Ride Waves.'
Were things not so good for you personally, or are you talking about the wider scope of the world, because obviously, the situation is kind of a mess.
I think both. The wider scope has definitely affected my personal shit too. It’s more about my own shit and what I'm going through because I write records as a coping mechanism for all the crazy stuff that happens in life. My outlet is music; that’s what I have and that’s what I’m good at so that’s what I use to create art. I do some visual art but that’s not at the same level of being able to help me cope with the way that I feel about my own fucking planet. Not even planet Earth - planet me.
Planet GRiZ.
Yes!
Tell me about the byline to the new album’s title - ‘Experiments In Beautiful Thinking.'
That was something that my homegirl, Taylor, she’s an art therapist, she spit that at me and I was like, ‘Yo, that’s a dope perspective.' Cause I don’t want to force anybody to do a thing. Like I don’t want to force you to consume this thing this way - that’s not my goal. [The album] is an experiment in putting forth these ideas to people. And if you can create that experiment for yourself - that thought experiment to refresh or change your perspective - that could be a beautiful thing.
And the music from ‘Ride Waves’ will take you there.
Absolutely. It’s a vessel. Sometimes it’s a vessel through positive things and sometimes it’s a vessel through really serious issues and shit that might stir up some emotions. What’s important is that it’s a safe space for you to be able to have a moment of catharsis.
I feel that. Whether feelings brought on by music are intense-good or intense-bad it’s better to feel something rather than just come away from the experience with numbness or apathy.
But it’s also okay to feel like, nothing. No emotional state is permanent so wherever you’re at, I think that it’s important to respect that emotional quality. It’s like visitors in a house; if you have anger as an emotion it might stay for an extended period of time, but while it’s there, you need to honor it so you can send it off.
It’ll get off your couch eventually.
Exactly. Like you don’t pay rent anger, fuck you! And eventually, something else will come to pass. Like if I can just be there and down with that emotion, it’ll balance itself out.
You’ve got some crazy exciting contributors on the record including Snoop Dogg, Matisyahu, Bootsy Collins, and Wiz Khalifa who was on the Issue 01 cover of office. How did some of those collabs come to pass?
Some of them were financial and some of them were already fans of the music. Like if you can afford a Wiz feature - cool. But he can’t just be bought, he’s gotta dig the sound too. So we sent it across and I was like, ‘Oh man I really hope he digs this shit.' Cause I created the song without him in mind; I made the tune and recorded it with the Brooklyn Gospel Choir at Germano Studios in Manhattan while I was on tour. I had the entire thing done and wanted a rapper feature so we hit him up about it and I was like, ‘Man if he likes this song I’m gonna flip out.'
And the Matisyahu tune happened because the bass player from my band was also the bass player in his band so he showed off the record and Matis was a fan. He was like, ‘Yo that’s dope, we gotta work on this thing together,' and we ended up writing some socially-conscious dance tunes. It was cool.
His music has always walked that line of making you think in a broader scope, but you can also move to it, which is mad important.
That’s what I’m saying, I felt the same way and that’s what I wanted to create with him. It became a song about gun control and more so a song about anti-violence. Like basically ‘Guns Suck.'
How about Snoop - how’d that partnership come about? He’s music royalty and stoner royalty AND has a film career - that’s wild.
With Snoop, we hit him up for the feature because I had this really fun song and I’ve always wanted to do a tune with Snoop Dogg. They were big fans of the tune and that one happened really quickly; they cranked out the verse, sent it back and bang - done. Gang-gang.
You dropped a lead single for the album that I really loved, it’s called ‘I’m Good.' The lyrics really hit me, it goes ‘I don’t focus on the bad shit, Yeah I get the vibe, it’s a classic.’ That’s some uplifting shit in a time where the world could really use it. Did you just know people needed something to -
To whip up the vibe?
Mhm.
I wanted a tune that felt really fun to play live and I wanted a tune what would really inspire me to feel better about shit. I made that song in New Orleans. Like I was cruising around New Orleans with it in my headphones and I was like, ‘It’s fucking working.' It just gives me that feeling that I could listen to it for the full four minutes and have a really positive experience.
Knowing that you were absorbing some NOLA energy for that song makes a lot of sense.
That’s where so many GRiZ albums get made and recorded because horns down there, the girls who sing on that tune...I just feel inspired to write down there. It’s swampy and I feel like something about it being so humid - everything sticks to you. Some sort of magic potion is floating through the air.
Your other new single has DRAM on it - Big Baby DRAM. It’s called ‘It Gets Better.' When I read the title, I was like, ‘Hmm, that sounds like the nonprofit organization which is intended to uplift LGBTQI+ youth.’ Is the song title a nod to that movement?
So the song happened completely in a capsule outside of the movement. I was on my roof in Denver and I was like, ‘I wanna write some shit that’s gonna make me grin,’ and I want to incorporate a kids choir sound that’s innocent and fun and uplifting. Looking at the two singles leading up to the album, it seems like each tune has the same ethos to it, so I’m excited for the record to drop and people can get the balance of the light and the dark. But during the lead up to the album I wanted people to hear some triumphant ‘Fuck yeah!’-quality shit. So I wrote ‘It Gets Better’, went to Chicago and recorded with the Children’s Gospel Choir, went back down to New Orleans and recorded the horns and back-up vocals for it, and then sent it all to DRAM saying, ‘Yo, let's do some PG shit, do it for the kids.' Cause I got nieces and nephews who have changed my perspective - I wanna write music that I can be proud to show them and that they can rock out to.
They can play it at the dance if they want to.
Exactly. I wanna be a good example for the kids. I wanna teach them that it’s cool to be a positive person. That’s it’s cool to talk about serious issues in an inspiring way. Like being edgy is cool and shit but being nice is also fucking cool.
There’s nothing corny about being positive and making people feel comfortable about who they are. I came out in high school and there weren’t many music acts to look up to. There was Bloc Party with Kele Okereke... and I think that was it. To be a young person and hear a song like that, even if it’s not specifically about queerness, if they can connect with the overall message, it’s a good thing.
It’s about all that shit. It’s about personal relationships just as much as it is about being comfortable with yourself. Beause even today it’s like...it’s just not easy being gay. Sometimes you get points for it where you’re like, ‘I’m gay,’ and people are like [whispering] ‘Oh, that’s so cool.’ and I’m like, ‘Uhh you had said what? Thank you.' Yeah it’s not a thing.
Isn’t it crazy that it’s still kind of not a thing?
You know what, I don’t think it’s crazy that it’s not a thing yet, it’s just that there aren’t enough old, racist motherfuckers that haven't died yet. It’s getting smaller and smaller - there’s like this gap that’s closing in on racist asshole people that keeps getting smaller but it’s still so strong and prevalent because - because I don’t know why.
Because that shit’s potent!
Hate is potent as fuck. It gives people something to rally around, and that’s bullshit. We should rally around acceptance and being ‘You’; celebrating the differences between people rather than feeling threatened, marginalized, and powerless. Power to the people and power by the people, not just giving a small group of people all the power so that they can do whatever the fuck makes them feel comfortable. Fuck that. Break it up, man.
I can still count on two hands the number of musicians, especially gay men, who are out in 2019, so you’re pretty high up on the visibility scale. Did you ever consider going forward with your career without being out?
Woah, I've never been asked that question. I think for a long time I had a tough time with it in the sense that I didn’t want to come out and be known as a ‘gay musician’. Because I just wanted to be known as a ‘musician’. My perspective was that ‘I’m just me, and gay is just a part of the water that gets the paint brush wet and allows colors to be applied’. It’s just part of the DNA and that’s it. But now I’m seeing that I need to champion myself a little bit further into it because even though I had an easier time accepting it for myself and a great group of friends to rally around, I think that I need to be able to take that energy and throw it towards people that need reassurance.
During high school and middle school I was like praying to god, I was like ‘I swear to you god, Mr.God-man in the sky, @the_god, if you will make me not gay I swear I will not smoke weed for two weeks’. I was fully bartering. Real shit, like ‘I will quit eating McDonalds FOR LIFE’. And it didn’t come true, thank fucking god. Thank you god! There was a plan after all.
But yeah there was a point in my career where I was like ‘I don’t think I have to do this’. I had no idea where this whole thing was gonna go. I remember coming to New York and being like ‘Wow, if anyone would ever come to my show in this city, if I could ever get a gig in this city that would be so cool’. At this point everything has changed so much and [not coming out] would have really fucking sucked. All this shit happened and I feel blessed to have this position where I can speak to kids and let them know it’s the coolest thing in the world to be who you are. Whether that’s gay, bi, straight, trans, asexual, queer - fuck it.
Vegan.
Vegan lesbian, like yes, please. Leather daddy. Whatever. Gay Christian, Straight Christian. Ally. I don’t give a shit man, just be you and don’t hate.
So you’re open about being into dudes which is very important but you’re also open about being a stoner. What’s the best weed you’ve sampled lately?
There was Gelato and also….what was that shit I was smoking in Aspen? It was Gelato Cookies or something ridiculous like that. Lets just go with Gelato.
Got any good stoner stories for us?
I feel like if they ever read this they might get a little tilted but that’s fine because I put down this challenge and they accepted. So High Times magazine asked me to come to their suite in Los Angeles - it was a hotel room, it was sus - and they were like will you smoke weed with us on camera and we’ll interview you? And I was like cool, I’m gonna get high with High Times, classic. And they got too high! To the point where I had to end the interview. I had outsmoked High Times magazine.
Wow you outsmoked the smokers. That’s so good.
I wanna get high with them again cause they were super fun to smoke with. I was having a blast but it seriously turned into me interviewing them. I was like ‘What’s the next question?’ They were like ‘...What?’. [laughs] I was mega lit.
Swinging back to another track on the new album, ‘Can’t Get Enough’ features you on vocals which you haven't really shown off much before right?
Nah, that was the start if it. And the reason why that happened was because at 4 o’clock in the morning outside my hotel in New Orleans I’m writing to this tune and as the lyrics were coming out I was recording them on my MacBook soundbar thing, and I was just feeling it. That was the demo that ended up making it onto the album so the vocals there literally just came from my computer. Lyrically, it was my story to tell and I was going to give it to someone else. I showed it to other people and I was trying to get the vote of confidence for someone to be like ‘Cool, you should give this to a different singer’ but everyone was digging it the way it was. And I was like ‘You know what; we’re gonna keep it. I like it too’.
You also have a whole tour coming up this summer with stops in Costa Rica, Brooklyn, and St. Augustine. Are there any cities in particular you’re hyped to play?
New York! I gotta shout out New York cause I always love playing shows here, the fans are the shit. New York is a fire city to play, I love it so much. Maybe one day I’ll call this place home. A lot of these shows are gonna be in outdoor amphitheaters - not the Brooklyn show, I’m sorry! But I’m excited to play in that format, to play outside, cause right now it’s so fucking cold! I’m ready to get my spring, outdoor, play-under-the-moon vibes on. That’s what we’re gonna be doing.
Any places you’d like to play in the future?
I’m about to go to Thailand in three or four weeks, so I’m gonna cross that off the list. And after that trip, I’m probably not gonna be looking at too many 24-hour travel days for awhile.
Are you gonna do some surfing while you’re there or just kicking it?
I’m gonna be working on a follow-up album/mixtape situation to drop after this record and doing a lot of meditation and just getting the fuck out. You were talking about Planet GRiZ earlier? I gotta get off that GRiZ shit for just a little bit before I send it fully to that planet for the next few years. I’m starting with a one-way ticket to a mountain town called Pai and then be back at a certain time and date that I don’t even know yet. Eventually I gotta come back for the tour. Maybe this is the last time you guys’ll ever see me - maybe I’ll run away to the beach.
We’ll send the office magazine search party.
Don’t worry about it!
Last year was a great year for new music releases - what have you been listening to personally?
One of my favorite tunes has been that new Gucci Mane, Bruno Mars joint - ‘Wake Up In The Sky’. Fuck yeah. That’s the collab that nobody knew they needed.
Anything involving Gucci Mane is a blessing.
That’s true. I thought the new Travis Scott project was cool. KOD (by J.Cole) was my favorite album of last year. Was it my favorite? It was up there. Kids See Ghosts was amazing. Daytona was amazing. I listen to a lot of hip-hop music, that’s my thing. My boy Yoshi Flower dropped a mixtape last year that was fire. He’s also featured on my new album.
We also cover a lot of fashion here at office - are there any designers or labels getting you excited these days?
I really really like Palm Angels, I think their shit is fire. Rhude is coming back with the coolest shit. Heron Preston, I fucking love that. I love Virgil Abloh - I think the new Louis Vuitton line is sick. Whoever’s in charge of the Gucci line right now is also really fucking sick. They set the trend. Before it was assumed that only old, European white dudes can afford and are purchasing their brands but that’s not the case. That’s been the majority of my shit. And of course Vans is always cool, such a staple. And if you want good jeans, All Saints for life.
Anything else you’d like to share with office readers?
It’s a pleasure to hang with you guys and make some cool shit happen.
'Ride Waves' is out now.
