Pharrell Williams and Pusha T on Virginia, "Grindin'," and Making Music at 5 a.m.
Vogue
Pharrell Williams and Pusha T sat down with Vogue to interview each other about a friendship that goes back to their teenage years in Virginia. The conversation covers how they met, the first Clipse video, how they argued and made up over creative choices, and the record they credit with changing everything. Their new coffee company takes its name from that record: Grindin. Underneath it all is a shared belief they come back to more than once. They trust their instincts, they keep their standards high, and, in Pusha's words, they dream big.
Mornings in front of MTV, afternoons not in school
Asked for his earliest memory of the friendship, Pharrell describes going to sessions at Chad's house. Chad is Chad Hugo, his production partner. Pharrell would be making music there with Pusha's brother while a young Pusha fell asleep on Chad's couch. The friendship was built on music from the start. They watched MTV and BET every morning before school. Whatever had moved them that day was the topic of conversation, whether it was Pearl Jam or Juvenile when Juvenile first came out.
The other early memory they share is less flattering. They joke that they skipped school so often they had to act like they'd gone. One of them recalls a report card that spelled "EDIE." The I stood for incomplete, the E's for failing, and the D for below average.
"The Funeral" and the first Clipse video
Looking at an old photo of the two of them in suits, neither can remember where the suits came from. They do remember the occasion. It was the shoot for the first Clipse video, "The Funeral," from the Exclusive Audio Footage album. The rest of that album never came out at the time, though they believe it is now being sold on vinyl.
They hired director Marc Klasfeld because they were so into a particular high-energy visual style. The song itself came from a much darker place. They say they had lost two or three people around that time, so many friends were dying that "The Funeral" was their way of eulogizing themselves.
Finding a personal style
Pharrell traces how his style changed to his own temperament. He calls himself an Aries who did impulsive things for years. Things settled down once he stopped measuring himself against his heroes. He names Jay-Z, his own father, and Q-Tip, the last one drawing laughter. When he realized he wasn't competing with them and had carved out his own lane, his attitude became, "Okay, I need to do me."
Pusha's answer to "describe your perfect outfit" is simpler: anything that feels like pajamas. He calls himself "a luxury sweat tracksuit type of guy," meaning thousand-dollar sweats. Pharrell confirms that's exactly how he shows up at the studio at 6 a.m.
"Chains and Whips" at Louis Vuitton
Asked about his most memorable recording session, Pharrell picks the one for Clipse's "Chains and Whips." They recorded it at Louis Vuitton's headquarters on the Seine. A fashion show was then staged right outside the headquarters' windows, and Pusha and his brother walked in it. Members of the Arnault family were in the audience, including Bernard and Hélène Arnault, along with Jay-Z and Beyoncé, whom Pharrell describes nodding their heads. Pharrell adds that two years later he walked away with a trophy alongside Kendrick. He has had many great sessions, he says, but this one ran "from A to Zed."
"Grindin'": the only time Pharrell demanded a rewrite
The story at the center of the conversation is about "Grindin'," the Clipse breakout single. Pusha says he knew it would be a turning point because Pharrell was so insistent about it. Pharrell had never pushed him like that before. The message was essentially: get to the studio, or I'm giving this beat away. Once Pusha arrived, Pharrell made him rewrite his verse three times. Pusha points out that this has never happened before or since, and Pharrell agrees.
The song did not take off right away. They say it didn't catch on for about nine months, and someone could easily have told them to move on. They didn't, because they believed in it. Pharrell says he is honored it worked out and that the song had "the legs and the wings" to carry them to where they are now.
Pusha also remembers Pharrell's excitement in that session about how sparse the beat was. Pharrell kept repeating that it was "only six sounds." Pusha didn't understand why the exact number mattered so much. Pharrell explains that he was entering a minimalist phase at the time. He credits Chad with part of the track, but says the drums and the cadence of the drum work were his own thing.
From a rap record to a coffee company
Asked whether he ever imagined the song would inspire a coffee company, Pusha says he isn't surprised. He credits Pharrell with teaching him to dream big. Early on, Pusha says, he second-guessed a lot of ideas, and Pharrell would push back: they could do it, they could "have it all." Both agree that the coffee venture "tracks."
Disagreements, and who was right
On creative conflict, one of them admits to having gone about things the wrong way at times by chasing bigger, more accessible, more popular records. The other, he says, always held to "the core of purity." Many of those attempts at mainstream records failed, which earned him an "I told you so." He says he learned from that. He also says that now he is the one holding the line. As they put it, people still talk about them a lot.
Hell Hath No Fury or Let God Sort Em Out?
Asked to choose between the two Clipse albums, they pick Let God Sort Em Out. One calls it "a tutorial on the maturation of a rap group," a model of how a group is supposed to grow up. The other agrees and jokes that during the Hell Hath No Fury era, someone "allegedly" still had dirty hands.
Pusha admits he "was out of my mind" on Hell Hath No Fury. He says he could never make that album again. What he said on it came from a bitter, intensely competitive place, and he was proving points he hopes he never has to prove again.
They describe their standard as "fight or flight music." If a song can't work in those situations, it doesn't work. They argue that urgency is still what the culture wants.
Why they test music on a boat
Both would rather record on a boat in Miami than in a traditional studio, and one says he never wants to make music in a warehouse again. The reason is less about luxury than about testing. A boat, or a Rolls-Royce, is a place where they know some of their listeners will actually hear the music, so a track has to sound good there.
5 a.m.
The thing that surprises people most about their routine, they say, is how early it starts. They are on the phone or heading to the studio by 5 a.m., because that is when their creative flow is strongest. They can work hard until around 2 p.m. and still have the rest of the day. One of them says that early-morning mental sharpness is something that "should be studied." He adds that if he had one thing to say about the school system, it is that the sweetest spot is early in the morning.
The songs they wish they'd made
Asked which song in history he wishes he had produced, Pharrell first says there are far too many to name. When the question is narrowed to rap, he starts a list anyway. It opens with Strafe's "Set It Off," which he notes has no rapping at all. He mentions a bassline from another record that he says he has been chasing for 30 years. He names RZA as someone whose work kept him up at night and woke him up in the morning. He also names Marley Marl and Eric B. & Rakim's "Eric B. Is President." They recall buying coupes, Bentleys, and Rolls-Royces and, 20 years later, still putting those records on because of how they made them feel.
For the verse he would most like to have been on, the answer is immediate: "Who Shot Ya." "My Downfall" also comes up, both by Biggie. They remark on how young he was, in his early twenties, when he was killed, and they marvel at how he made that music at 21 or 22. They agree he was the greatest.
Knowing when it's done, and keeping notebooks
On how he knows an album is finished, one of them describes a "resolute" feeling. He compares it to what he imagines a sculptor feels when looking at finished work.
Pusha is described as one of the few people who still write lyrics by hand. He estimates he has 12 or more notebooks, some left behind in studios, including one in Paris right now. Pharrell says his handwriting is a very square print, with every letter equally square. Pusha says he hadn't noticed.
Perfect hip-hop songs, and "Oceans"
Asked for the perfect hip-hop song, they again say there are too many, then name a few. They mention Public Enemy's "Rebel Without a Pause" and recall when "Flava in Ya Ear" came out. They also bring up Large Professor and Main Source's "Looking at the Front Door."
Finally, Pharrell asks which beat he made for another artist that Pusha wishes he had gotten. Pusha says "Oceans." He had recently come across it while posting on Instagram and thought it was "so perfect." That leads to a playful back-and-forth over who the beat was originally meant for. One insists it was never meant for him, and the other says he had never heard that.
They close by returning to the coffee. After all the years of music they've made together, they now have a coffee company, which they call their fuel. Their sign-off is a callback to the song that started it all: time to get back on their grind.
By the time I got there, you made me rewrite it three times.
Right.
You've never made me rewrite a verse.
Yeah.
Ever.
That's true.
Ever.
That's true.
Not before or since.
Never.
Hi, Vogue. I'm Pharrell Williams.
And I'm Pusha T.
And today we're going to talk about growing up in Virginia and having our dreams come true.
When you think about our friendship, what's your earliest memory?
My earliest memory was rapping with your brother, going over to Gnu's house. We would have sessions over at Chad's house, and a lot of times when your brother and I be making music with Chad, you'd be falling asleep on Chad's couch. Probably the breadth of our friendship was based on music. We'd wake up every morning watching MTV and watching BET early in the morning. Did you see that video? And whether it was Pearl Jam or it was Juvenile when they first came out, boy, "Ha," it was the thing. Whatever it was that moved us, that was the subject of conversation every morning before school.
My earliest memory of our friendship was acting like we went to school that day, because we skipped school every day. My actual report card spelled Eddie one time. E-D-I-E. The I's were for incomplete, the E's were for failing, and the D's were for below average.
What do you remember about this image? And where did we get these suits from?
I remember the image. I do not remember what suits these were.
I have absolutely no idea where we got the suits from. But this picture is of the first Clipse video that we ever shot. It was called "The Funeral," from the Exclusive Audio Footage album.
Then the rest of the music never came out.
I think they're selling it now, though.
They are. They're selling it on vinyl, I believe. We were so into the whole "Ha" energy that we went and got Marc Klasfeld to shoot this video, but at the same time, it was a lot of death surrounding us and our friends. So the idea for the song, "The Funeral," was just us eulogizing ourselves. We were watching—we probably had about two or three deaths at that time.
How has your personal style evolved over time?
I'm an Aries, so I did a lot of impulsive things for years and years and years. And I think when I got to a place in myself where I was like, "Oh, I'm not competing with him, Jay, or even my dad, Q-Tip, you know?"
Yeah.
When I realized I wasn't competing with them and that I had carved up my own lane for myself, that's when my style started to settle in like, "Okay, I need to do me." Describe your perfect outfit.
I'd have to say my perfect outfit is anything that makes me as comfortable as feeling like I'm in pajamas. I'm a luxury sweat tracksuit type of guy. Thousand-dollar sweats, thousand tracksuit pants.
Okay, that's how he shows up. By the way, that's how he shows up, 6:00 in the morning.
Just being comfortable, man. Tell me about your most memorable recording session in Louis Vuitton headquarters.
My brain goes to "Chains & Whips," right there on the Seine River in the Louis Vuitton headquarters. Then right outside the window of the headquarters, we have the fashion show. You and your brother walked that show.
Yeah.
To "Chains & Whips."
Yeah.
With Bernard Arnault and Hélène Arnault sitting there, and the Arnault family sitting there, and Jay-Z and Beyoncé head-bopping, and two years later to walk away and get that trophy with Kendrick. I got to say that's probably one of the most momentous sessions ever, even though I've had a lot of great ones.
Yeah.
That one is just kind of like from A to Zed, as they say. What was the moment that you realized our breakout single, "Grindin'," would be a turning point?
I knew it was going to be a breakout moment because you were just so adamant about it. You were so adamant about me getting to the studio.
Yes.
And you'd honestly never told me anything like that in your life. "Get here or I'm giving it away. And I'm telling you, and ain't no turning back." By the time I got there, you made me rewrite it three times.
Right.
You've never made me rewrite a verse.
Yeah.
Ever.
Yeah, that's true.
Ever.
That's true. That's true.
Not before or since.
Never. From there, we never turned back, though. We never turned back after.
No.
When the record was done, it was like—
And the record didn't pop for like nine months.
Straight up.
So someone could have told us, "Hey, man, move on."
And we didn't move on.
No.
Yeah.
We believed. I'm honored that that worked out. And then who knew that it had the legs and the wings that could fly us to this moment right here?
I will say, in that session you were so excited because you kept saying, "Man, but it's only six sounds."
Is it six?
Yeah, six sounds.
It's only six sounds. It's only six sounds.
I didn't know what the hell, whether it was six, eight, ten, or twelve. I was just like, "Yo, why does that matter so much?"
Yeah. Yeah.
But you were so excited about it being only six sounds.
Yeah, that was the beginning. I was entering a minimalist stage, and Chad was a part of that, by the way. He did that part, but the drums and the cadence of everything that we were doing drum-wise, that was my thing. Did you ever in your wildest dreams think that the song would inspire a coffee company?
One thing you've taught me: dream big.
Yeah.
So I'm not surprised we have a coffee company. I'm not. I'm not. There's a lot of things that I've second-guessed early on, and you were like, "No, we can do that. We can have it all. We can have everything." So, no. Yeah, we're supposed to have everything we have.
It tracks.
Yeah, it tracks.
What's an example of a time we disagreed creatively, and how did we resolve it, and who was ultimately right?
I've had my moments of going about it the wrong way and making bigger, more accessible, and more popular records. You always held tight to the core of purity. A lot of my novice attempts would fail, and you'd say, "I told you so." And that was something that I definitely learned from. And now I'm on their ass.
Yeah, for sure.
Because they talk about us. They love talking about it.
A lot.
Hell Hath No Fury or Let God Sort Em Out? That's a tough one.
I'm going to go with Let God Sort Em Out because Let God Sort Em Out, it's a tutorial on the maturation of a rap group and how a group is supposed to mature.
I agree. I probably would add to that, allegedly you might have still had your hands a little dirty during the Hell Hath.
I was out of my mind in Hell Hath. You know what I've always said? I can never make Hell Hath No Fury again.
Yeah.
Things that I was saying in that album just came from a very—man, it was from a bitter place. It was from a very competitive place. I was proving points that I hope I never have to prove again in life.
The key is we make fight-or-flight music. That is the standard that we make our music to. If it can't work in those environments, then it doesn't work. It is the way of the culture still to this day. People want urgency.
Where would you rather record, in a traditional studio or on a boat in Miami?
On a boat. Of course.
Oh, man.
What the— I never want to make music in a warehouse again. What the— When you can look at the ocean, and it's a testing ground. If I can make music in a Rolls-Royce, I would do it because it's a testing ground. It's got to sound good in there, right? But we do it on the boat because that's where we know a lot of people going to listen to it. Not everybody, but some people. What's something unexpected about your morning routine?
I think a lot of people don't expect that we start our mornings so early.
Yeah.
I think people are always very surprised that we're 5:00 a.m.
Yeah.
5:00 a.m. on the phone or 5:00 a.m., "Hey, heading to the studio." That's when a lot of the creative flow—
Yeah.
The creative flow for us—
Yeah.
Is early a.m. Early a.m., and we can go strong.
We can go strong to about 2:00.
Yeah.
And you got the rest of the day.
And then the rest of the day is just, you know.
Yeah. That early morning mental acuity, there's something that should be studied about that. That's the one thing I will say about the school system. The sweetest spot is early in the morning. If you could have produced any song in history—
Oh, Lord.
What would it have been?
Oh, Lord, I can't do that. There's far too many.
What rap song do you wish you produced?
That's so tough, man. Because it could be anything from Strafe, "Set It Off," which is no rapping at all. But then—
That's a good question, though.
I mean, it is. But then "Nine Million," Queen—
Oh, man.
That bassline. I have been chasing that for 30 years. But then there's RZA.
Yeah.
RZA hurt me and kept me up at night and wake me up in the morning. Marley Marl.
Oh, yeah.
"Eric B. Is President."
Yeah.
I mean, my life. We would buy coupes. We would buy Bentleys and Rolls-Royces, and 20 years later and still pop that in the deck because of the way it made us feel.
Yeah.
If you could have had a verse on any song in history, which would it be?
That's a good one. If I could have a verse on any song in history—
"Who Shot Ya?"
It would be "Who Shot Ya?"
Oh.
I was going to say "Who Shot Ya?" and "My Downfall," both by Big.
Guy that was in his early 20s when he was killed.
How the—do you think that way when you're 21, 22, 23 years old?
I have no clue.
The—
Go great.
The greatest.
Yes. When do you know that an album is done?
There's a feeling that I get that I'm pretty sure sculptors get as well. A feeling of resolute. When you feel resolute in the track, it's a resolute space that I feel that sculptors feel when they look at their work. How many books of handwritten lyrics do you have? You might be one of the only few that still do that.
Probably 12 or more. I have old ones. I have things that I've left in the studio. I got one in Paris right now, for sure. I do.
For sure. And his handwriting is in shot print.
Well, is it really?
Yeah.
I don't know. What is that?
It's very square. All the letters look very equally square.
What is the perfect hip-hop song to you?
I can't do that. It's just too much. Public Enemy, "Rebel Without a Pause." I'll never forget when "Flava in Ya Ear" came out. Never.
Yeah.
Or Large Professor, "Looking at the Front Door."
"Looking at the Front Door." These are—"Letter to the Better," "The Symphony."
Yeah.
Okay. What was the one beat I did for another artist that you wish you had?
Just recently I put this on my Instagram. It was "Oceans."
Oh, Lord.
I don't know, I was posting something and I came across it. I was like, "Oh, this was so perfect."
You know what's crazy?
What? That wasn't for me.
Yes.
No, it wasn't.
Yes.
No. I never heard that.
I promise you.
All the years of music that we made, and now we got a coffee together. It's great, and it is our fuel. We want to offer that to you guys. But thank you, brother.
Got to get back on our grind.
Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
Coffee.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, Vogue.
Thank you, Anna. Thank you, Vogue.
[Music]
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