When Chester French’s excellent, surprising mixtape with Clinton Sparks, Jacques Jams, Vol. 1: Endurance, dropped earlier this month, hip hop fans were shocked. How exactly did D.A. Wallach and Maxwell Drummey, two Harvard University–educated white boys who play sunny Beach Boys–style pop rock wrangle guest spots from hardcore MCs like N.O.R.E., Bun B, and Pusha T, (not to mention Diddy, Jermaine Dupri, and Janelle Monáe)? And how did they get Internet shot-callers the New Music Cartel to cosign the tape? Shortly before opening for Asher Roth at New York City’s Blender Theater this past Tuesday, Wallach, 24, the lead singer of the Pharrell-signed duo, answered those questions and more about the group’s new debut, Love The Future (Star Trak/Interscope), which dropped this week, why they’ve gotten so much hip hop love, and how they plan to break homoerotic humor to rap fans.
VIBE: Where did the idea for Jacques Jams come from?
D.A. Wallach: It really started from Clinton Sparks. He wanted a mixtape with us about a year ago when we were living in Los Angeles. And we were very resistant to it because we really wanted our album to be the first thing people heard from us because we’d spent years working on it. So the thought of just throwing together some quick bullshit thing was not appealing to us. And then we actually got into a fight about whether we were going to do it or not. It sort of put us in a position where we were dicks if we didn’t do it because how do you say no when a big DJ is like, “Look guys, I want to make this thing and use all of my energy and resources to help promote you for free”? It looks sour if you don’t do it. And we felt backed into a corner and we were just like “Fuck it, we’ll do it.” Once we started, we had to make it good. So I flew out to Boston for a week with Clinton, and his friends let us use the studio. He had this little guesthouse in his house, and we just recorded up there for a week and made all the tracks. The hardest part was getting the features done. Coordinating rappers is the most difficult logistical thing that I’ve ever experienced.
Trust me, I know. How did you get so many high-profile artists involved?
We knew some of the people. Like, we knew Jermaine [Dupri] because he tried to sign us two years ago. And he’s just a super cool guy. Jermaine is very supportive and involved and in touch. Jermaine was a no-brainer. When we called Diddy and were like, “Dude, we wrote a song about Cîroc,” I think that was instantly appealing to him. Then there were people who we didn’t know that Clinton helped us get, like Kardinal Offishall who killed it. And then we just had a lot of friends from the course of the past year, like Pusha [T, from Clipse], who is in the Star Trak family. Wale and Mickey Factz are up and coming dudes who we were cool with. And Janelle [Monáe] we knew since before either of us got signed and we had just been wanting to collaborate on something for a long time. This is the first collaboration I think she’s done since OutKast’s Idlewild. So that was really exciting that she was down.
She’s really great.
Yeah, she’s awesome. It was fun, too, to bring people into our world and our kind of comedy. To have N.O.R.E. on a song where the chorus is like, “Boobs out, penis out, no parents allowed!” It was almost like we were shocked to have people be a part of something so scandalous.
It really does feel like you guys had these crazy ideas with unrealistic expectations, and then all your wishes came true.
Yeah, it was one of those things where if you weren’t pushy, you wouldn’t ask. But just because you ask people, for whatever reason, the universe works out in your favor. You just ask them and basically no one said no. It was surprising.
So most of the songs were written originally for the tape?
Yeah. There were eight new tracks that were specifically made for the mixtape. And there’s one song that has Wale on it called “I’m Sorry” and that was actually a demo we did in college. We wanted to sell that song to Britney Spears, and we just had it sitting around. But we figured we could twist it into this narrative. And we just referenced vocals on there that were meant for a girl.
Did you guys change the way you wrote? Obviously you wrote the tape really fast.
Yeah, it was beat-driven whereas the other stuff was more structured. It takes a lot longer to put together because there are lots of different sections. With this, an instrument might come in halfway through during the chorus, but it’s basically one beat throughout the whole production so that’s easier always. And then the lyrics we ended up writing were just really quick because in the course of three days we were just like, “Ok, we’re just going to tell this ridiculous, characterized story of us going from Harvard where we were weightlifting…” We just tried to make up hooks to fit that narrative.
Where did that concept come from?
From the name Jacques Jams. Someone suggested it on our website [and] we just thought it was funny. And with Jacques Jams came this whole athletic concept that we’re really grateful for because we think it’s funny. And also there’s this whole thing that’s grown out of this project which is that we think it’s really funny to push really homo-erotic white boy comedy a on hip hop audience because that’s one thing that is still so taboo. And obviously there’s this sort of unspoken homosexual thing about guys who are really into working out and really about their bodies, spotting each other and grunting, you know? We just thought the whole thing was funny, and we wanted to make people a little uncomfortable. I’ve been surprised at the lack of, “What is this homo shit?” There actually hasn’t been too much of that despite how gay the comedy is on this mixtape.
Yeah, it seems like that kind of mentality may not be taboo for much longer.
We were on DJ Drama’s show the other day, and we go, “Yeah, me and Clinton just wanted all this homo-erotic white-guy humor.” And 10 guys in the room were like, “Yo, pause son! Yo, slow down.” That’s the first push back we’ve gotten. (laughs)
How did you guys decide to release the tape with the New Music Cartel?
Just the audience. We’ve been a group for six years, which a lot of people don’t know. As much as we’ve been affiliated with Pharrell, we’ve been very grassroots. We sold CDs on the street. We still sell CDs on the street after shows and the most important thing we do is directly reach people and connect with them. Without having a radio hit or anything right now as we get ready to release our real album, this was our chance to get people directly to our website. The New Music Cartel just have a great audience and that’s really what it’s all about for us. That’s why we put this out for free, too. It really is an album, it’s just a free album. And the mentality is we’re not going to be precious about people making copies. We want people to burn the fuck out of these CDs. We want people telling all their friends, sending the link around. And I don’t care what website it is.
Do you guys feel like you’re specifically targeting hip hop audiences with your album, Love the Future?
No, but we’ve always aspired to sort of walk in the footsteps of Beck or OutKast or groups that have always blurred the boundaries. And whether it’s been the result of who we’ve been affiliated with, or where we’ve performed, or the music itself, we gained this hip hop fan base. I think it’s people who are on the margins, who were rap fans who are bored with it or getting a little older and diversifying their listening. And so, I think, because we appreciate that musical tradition and try to be inspired by it in what we do, our music is intelligible to a hip hop audience even though it’s not hip hop. So Love the Future is definitely on the edges. We’ve got songs that are just orchestral instruments and singing in Portuguese. There’s definitely a lot of shit on there that the average T.I. fan is not going to be checking for ordinarily.
I saw something on Twitter where you wrote, “Sometimes I wish some indie folks appreciated how DIY we are and have been. I think our pedigree fucked up any love from Pitchfork or Stereogum.” Can you explain that?
Well, I think it’s weird because I’ve always had a little bit of a chip on my shoulder just because of the fact that we did do all of the indie band stuff. We sold CDs on the street, we busked on the street on Harvard Square. We played shows around Boston for empty rooms with five people or 10 people and we still do everything ourselves in terms of writing, producing, [and] engineering all of our own shit. Until recently, it’s been a very homegrown operation. [And yet] those grassroots, from pop and rock, or indie rock journalists and web sites never gave us any love. I think they felt like we were bigger than we actually were because our whole aesthetic was like, “Yo, we want to be the biggest in the world.” So we just never got any coverage and it doesn’t bother me now because my mindset is that I don’t care about journalists for publicity. I just want to win them as real supporters just like any other supporter because they like music and they talk a lot. But while we were getting started, it would’ve been fucking awesome to have a Pitchfork or a Stereogum get behind us. We played shows in Brooklyn because it was important for us to make an effort to reach out to those audiences but we have never gotten anything back from them. Hopefully they come around and hopefully they get a record and feel like we are the real deal. But I have ConcreteLoop to thank a lot more than Stereogum, which is ostensibly about featuring great new music.
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