| An Exclusive Interview with Native Son Turned Musical Icon Pharrell WilliamsAny young person in America can tell you how important Pharrell Williams is to the music that defines his generation. Most locals can tell you who he is (producer, artist, and skateboarder that helped put this area on the map), where he’s from (Princess Anne High, The Neptunes, N.E.R.D.) and what he does (pretty much everything). But what does Pharrell really think of Hollywood, finding happiness, and his beloved but flawed hometown? Read on and find out.
Seeing Sounds, the title of the new album, refers to synesthesia—a condition which, as a writer, I’ve been fascinated with for a long time. What is it about that phenomenon that inspired you? And how is that manifested in the music?
Well, we wanted to bring to people’s attention that more people are synesthetes than they think. I mean, think about it: There are a lot of people who have this tendency—sometimes we call it a condition, but it’s basically a tendency—to have extra information distributed throughout the brain and not just what is usually intended—as in what you hear sending electric impulses to the auditorial department of your brain, and also sending them to the visual part, so that you see colors when you hear it. A lot of people do that.
With “Everyone Nose,” the first single off the album, you seem to be hinting at the cataclysmic nature of fame for certain young girls in Hollywood. But you three are young, celebrated people yourselves, who are not far removed from that lifestyle. How can you stay grounded?
Is it just Hollywood? Or is it America? Everywhere you go, wherever there’s, like, a wild party scene, that’s what’s going on. And basically, that song was a social observation—we’re not condoning or judging. We’re just kind of saying, ‘Hey, America, this is what’s going on in your nightlife, across the country.’ Really around the world, but mainly we’re talking to America. And not pointing the finger, just kind of doing what the news does sometimes, which is to say, ‘Hey, this is what’s happening.’
To answer your question, no, we’re not far removed from any of it. I mean, we see it. So that would mean we’ve been around it. It’s not necessarily my thing, but at the end of the day, a reporter’s job and a journalist’s job is to bring light to something that most people should know. And that’s kind of like the position that we took. A nonjudgmental report.
In thinking about this area—and I grew up in Virginia Beach also—
What part?
Ocean Lakes.
Oh, yeah? I know that area.
Yeah? Actually, I was going to bring up the fact that in this small town, everybody has some way that they feel connected to you guys. And that makes you seem really
real
, but at the same time it creates a legendary quality about you. Do you have those same complexities in the way you think about your hometown?
I mean, to me there’s no better feeling than when you go home and people are proud of the work that you do and how you represent them. I’m always throwing the Star Trak [symbol] up, and of course you know there’s a V in that sign. It’s always been secretly an ode to home.
You still think of it as home?
Yeah. Yeah, Virginia made me.
Virginia does produce so many creative, talented people and yet can’t seem to keep them around, or develop an environment that entices them to stay. Why do you think that is?
That’s a whole other conversation. That conversation has to do with the fact that, you know, they shut down a lot of nightlife when it becomes a little too urbanized. And if I wasn’t careful, I probably would’ve said ‘a little too ethnic.’ But I’ll say ‘a little too urbanized,’ because urban happens to be multi-cultural. But when it becomes a little too urbanized, it gets shut down for whatever mysterious reason. And I’m not sure if the powers that be realize that that urban mentality, that urban nightlife scene—it’s everywhere; it’s in the bigger cities.
It’s funny, when someone huge like Bono is out somewhere at some event, he wants to hear Jay-Z. And sometimes when I come home, it’s like somebody will open up a spot—and I’m not really a club-goer, but my friends will come back and tell me, “Listen, this place is cool. It’s super multi-cultural. Very eclectic in the music.’ And then I hear a year later it gets shut down because of too much activity. To me, there’s not a lot of outlets, nightlife-wise.
And then you may have to consider the population. The population isn’t as big, and [maybe] that’s the reason why there aren’t tons and tons and tons of skyscrapers and huge, huge, huge business. Because maybe the population itself just cannot support that. I mean, I don’t study demographics that much. But it seems to be a huge equation, and there are definitely some question marks in my understanding of it….
But I gotta say that, you know, I also live in Miami because if I ever wanted the nightlife, it’s there. I don’t want it; I’m not interested in it, I mean at this point it’s kind of like I’ve been there, done that. But I think people move away because they want more action. And it seems like you can’t really have the action that you want in peace, because the minute something gets going and it’s fun, it gets shut down.
Now, is there violence that happens at these places? Is that the usual case and scenario? Yeah, there’s usually violence. But that violence, to me, is a whole other byproduct of a whole other issue that I think the Tidewater area has. There’s a lot of energy in those kids; those kids are very inspired. And if you don’t take inspired energy and direct it in the right places, it will soon turn into something that deteriorates within itself and implodes and causes a serious problem.
So, yeah, that’s my opinion, and I could be wrong. And the critics may be upset by that, but that’s my take on it, that’s what I think. I feel like there should be more creative outlets. I feel like there should be more stress- and steam-releasing outlets, otherwise known as uh… “nightlife.” I think it could be much more fun, and I think people wouldn’t move.
That’s been the way I’ve seen it. I think people who make money—when they get discouraged and they leave—they leave for that reason.
For me, I love Virginia regardless of what it is or what it isn’t, what it could be or what it will or will not be. I love it because it’s what made me, and I love those people; they’re good people. At the end of the day, they’re good people.
And we just, as Virginians, deserve a chance to do what everybody else does. We don’t have a team, like a professional basketball team. And again, maybe, like I said, the population doesn’t support it; maybe the numbers don’t work out. But I just think that as Virginians we deserve some of the experiences that some of the other bigger cities have.
Do you agree with what I said?
I do. Actually, it’s why I do what I do, why I write for
Port Folio
—because I feel it is one of those voices and one of those outlets. I mean, that doesn’t speak to the fact that, yes, businesses have a rough time staying open, particularly if they’re perceived in a way that doesn’t please “the powers that be.” Yeah, I totally agree with you on that.
Well, that’s the thing. If you are a fast learner, you realize when you’re not getting anywhere. I realized that in collaborating, I was able to grow. And you know what? I gotta tell you the best benefit of collaborating: learning. You wouldn’t need to collaborate if you knew it all. That’s been a wonderful thing for me.
And you’ve grown to huge acclaim doing so. Yet still N.E.R.D. is thought of as a credible band with indie sensibilities; you just played SXSW, and you’re touring in support of other acts rather than headlining your own. Is that by design?
It’s been fun being like a niche band—selling 2 million worldwide on the first [album], selling close to 2 million on the second, and on the third, having the powers that be actually embrace your music. We just leaked it online; we haven’t even gone to radio with the record yet.
I think it’s more fun that way. Of course you can do something and blow it out and make it more pop and more accessible and more commercial. But why not keep it 100 percent real and gritty and angst-driven as you want it to be, and see your fans appreciate it? They’re gonna buy it, they’ll take care of you, you’ll be fine—you don’t have to be the biggest thing in the world.
But it’s funny the synergy on this record here…it sounds like it’s gonna be a little bigger. But who knows? We try to keep it as niche as possible. We want to grow, but I guess, you know, my thing is credibility. Sometimes, I do it to my own detriment.
How do you mean?
Because I’m always wanting it to be perfect and right, before it blows up and becomes whatever. Because once it blows up, you can’t stop it. And if you don’t like it, you can’t turn it around.
With that grittier, more frenetic sound, N.E.R.D. seems like an outlet for you to defy the slicker, trademark “Neptunes Sound.” Is that a deliberate aim?
Well, N.E.R.D. is who we are. The Neptunes is our job, and it’s what was paying the bills when we were trying to get a deal as N.E.R.D. We work really, really, really hard as the Neptunes to be super versatile. I mean, if you look at what we just did with Madonna—when the Madonna album comes out, check that out; it’s pretty crazy—and even Common…there’s a lot of other things that we’ve done, and we do what we can. But man, it’s just a different kind of feeling when you do N.E.R.D.
N.E.R.D. is a representation of who we are; that’s like looking in the mirror [for us].
When we’re working on other projects, we’re like the crayons in someone else’s coloring book. When we’re working on N.E.R.D., that’s our own coloring book, and our crayons.
Talk about seeing sounds, right?
[Laughs] Pun intended.
You must be stoked then, performing as N.E.R.D. at our biggest hometown venue.
No, no, we are so excited, it’s not even funny.
The most important thing for us, at the end of the day, is the ticket—if people walk away going, “Oh my God, I was just there for an hour and a half, and I don’t know what the hell just happened to me. The energy… I am so tired, my clothes are soaked, and the music was incredible. But more importantly, my experience is second to none.”
When you were growing up out here, skating and playing in the marching band, what key experiences did that for you?
I mean, skating changed my life, the marching band changed my life, and the Old Donation Center for the Gifted and Talented changed my life. Because in all three, I got a different form of very serious discipline.
If you weren’t decent at skating, it’s not like your friends would stop hanging out with you, but they definitely wouldn’t skate with you no more. If you did not have very serious academic discipline, you could not stay in the jazz program that I was in at Old Donation. If you were not serious and diligent about your concentration and totally being at one with your drumline, you were not gonna be in the marching band.
All those things made me who I am.
And of course, without all the diverse friends I had, all the different archetypes that I needed as a child, and the influences that gave me my eclectic, musical background—I wouldn’t be what I was. I wouldn’t be what I am; I would not have lived the way I did; and what I was as a child would not have led me to where I am today. At all. It just wouldn’t be the same.
And then, you know, of course, Teddy Riley basically spinning the little globe and pointing his finger on Virginia Beach Boulevard, a five-minute walk from my high school, that didn’t hurt either.
The distinct combination of suburban skate culture and urban hip-hop culture which you have come to epitomize is also, I think, one of the defining characteristics of the diverse youth culture in this area.
Yeah, definitely. I have friends that totally, totally, totally only listen to New Wave and progressive music. But then, you gotta understand that at the height of grunge music, A Tribe Called Quest’s “Award Tour” was one of the biggest records at that time and at its height. So was Death Row.
While all of that was going on, all of my friends at school—they listened to the same thing. I had all kinds of friends, I have to say that. I gotta be completely honest and tell you: Your child is lying if he’s telling you he’s in high school and he doesn’t have friends who sell drugs, doesn’t have friends who skate, doesn’t have friends who were in a band, doesn’t have friends who were just into any and everything. And I gotta tell you, the hustlers back home in Virginia—even the hoodest of the hood—they knew “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” You know what I mean? And the skaters, they knew EPMD. That’s just the way it was.
That’s what makes Virginia so special; everybody’s pretty much eclectic. When I was in junior high school, some of the kids were listening to Megadeath and Iron Maiden and all that. But those guys knew who Eric B. & Rakim were. Don’t believe anybody that tells you anything different—it’s not true. It’s not true at all.
But I think it is true of a lot of secondary markets. You don’t get to see as much as you do in the bigger cities. So you appreciate what it is you see on TV; you appreciate what you see happening before your eyes in a different area; when skating takes off, you appreciate it; and you’re probably much better than the kids in the mainstream markets because you want it that bad. I mean, think about it, you know? A lot of the illest skaters come from secondary markets.
Plus, there’s the big fish in the small pond phenomenon; an artist whose work drowns in a deluge of other art in New York or San Francisco can rise to the top of a smaller market like ours, don’t you think?
Yeah, I mean, I gotta tell you, all those things are very influential elements that go into making who you are and who you end up being in life. I’m so thankful that Virginia was the way it was. I’m so thankful that we were deprived in the ways we were, because it made us work harder. And that’s why all the athletes that come from Virginia—they’re much better, I’m sorry. And the musicians—look at Timbaland, look at the span of his career. He is brilliant, in my opinion. Missy—she’s brilliant. Bruce Hornsby came from Virginia. These people are great. They’re great at what they do.
It’s a wonderful thing. I think Virginia makes people who work harder, and we appreciate it. There’s something to be said about that.
And maybe if we had access to everything all the bigger cities have, we may not have been that. And maybe that is the one little thing that you might not like, but you know what, when it comes to artists—we work harder because we know what it’s like to come from a modest environment where you don’t have everything at your fingertips.
Now that you do, and now that you’ve been able to apply your creativity to so many other ventures with great success, what’s next?
I’ve been blessed to be able to dabble in a couple of things. And there are a bunch of things always coming up.
But we are just happy to be in the game, in the position that we’re in. We just want to continue to try to be somewhat of a decent inspiration. We’re not always perfect. You know, I definitely say a couple things on the mic when I’m onstage that I probably shouldn’t be saying, like just profane things. I’m not perfect, and I’m definitely not a role model. But I do want to continue to be somewhat of an inspiration to other Virginians—like, “Listen, you can go out and get it and bring it back home.” You know?
What is out there still that you know you want to do, that you have yet to conquer?
I don’t know. I don’t know—I’m happy, and I’m very thankful. I have no idea. All I know is the Seeing Sounds album comes out on June 10, and it is the most important thing. I totally appreciate them but among all the other things, N.E.R.D. is the world to me. I never knew that it would turn out to be so fun and so fulfilling.
It’s interesting when we come across writers like yourself, who are aware of synesthesia and contemplate it; its origin and its effect on the human populus. It’s amazing. It’s the greatest thing ever. And it’s interviews like this that make it so great.
Wow, thank you. That means a lot coming from someone who has accomplished all that you have, coming out of this modest environment that we share.
Had you ever thought—growing up in Virginia Beach, going to public high school, just like me or like any of us, simply trying to do something creative—that you’d come this far, or learn and accomplish this much? Or that it’s even possible to inspire so many others to try to do the same?
Never in a million years.
But we have to change that perception. I’m not sure that enough money is put into our school system to promote that. And it seems like it would just be such a simple thing. But I think it starts with our teachers—our teachers need to be paid more. And the curriculum definitely needs to be updated, and we should probably start evaluating our kids from kindergarten, through Northern Linguistic Programming (NLP) to see if the kid is an auditory learner, a visual learner, a kinesthetic learner. Because often times when a kid doesn’t pass the profiling tests to understand whether they learn a certain way, there are no other options.
It starts there. And then—and then—once we identify how to really teach our kids and try in many ways to connect with them, and the teachers are being paid more—then it’s a cohesive environment. Everything is conducive, and it’s just naturally a breeding place for happy kids, who have a purpose.
And when you feel like you have a purpose, then you know you can do any and everything, and you can be unstoppable. That’s when you can ask a kid that question, and he won’t say, ‘Never in a million years,’ he’ll say, ‘Yeah, every day.’
|
