Larry June, Underground Rap’s Unsung Hero, Is On A Roll

The Bay Area has always danced to a different tune. From idiosyncratic subgenres like hyphy to the ocean of pioneers the area produced like E-40, Keak Da Sneak, Mac Dre, Too $hort and Messy Marv, the San Francisco hotspot has always been way, way ahead of the curve. It’s not just music that they do differently over there either—they have an entirely different way of doing business, too. The “hustler mentality” defines the vibrant town’s perspective on commerce, and it rests on two tenets: a tireless approach to money-making and, perhaps most importantly of all, building personal relationships with your consumers.

For Larry June—who just released The Great Escape, his new collaborative album with super-producer The Alchemist—that last point is everything. Even before he was making music, the beloved underground rapper was selling t-shirts and homemade juices from the trunk of his car. Making money was the point, of course, but the real goal was always to meet your customer face-to-face, shake their hand, and make sure they kept coming back. Even now, as most commerce has shifted solely into online spaces, the value of face-to-face sales is paramount.

Larry and Al flew over to Europe (first to Amsterdam, then London, and then Paris) for a quick run of small, intimate free shows recently. The very popular merch table at each show was the only source of income for these dates, which ran at a loss, but that didn’t matter because, at every turn, Larry June was figuratively popping the trunk, shaking hands, taking selfies and making memories with a fanbase who would value that forever.

We managed to catch up with Larry June just before he went on stage at London’s Omeara. The show was free to enter; all fans had to do was register and get their name on the list before they hit capacity—which ended up being approximately a 30-second window. The line was round the block and, inside, it was a packed sweatbox. Even Larry, ever a paragon of self-belief (“Good job, Larry”), seemed a little surprised by how rapturous the support was—even if he did his best to hide it behind sunglasses. 

“You can’t just say you’re a rapper and expect people to care—you have to put that time in. You shouldn’t expect nobody to believe in you when it’s not happening.” 

COMPLEX: How would you say the Bay Area has influenced you as an artist?

Larry June: Oh, man! The Bay Area’s influenced me a lot, from Mac Dre to The Jacka, Messy Marv, E40, Too $hort… It’s that I don’t give a fuck kinda energy, that I’m gonna talk my shit on these groovy beats kinda energy. I got a lot of influence from the Bay Area. Everything I do, musically, the Bay Area’s influence is heavy.

One thing that typifies the Bay Area mindset is the hustler mentality, but also the meeting your consumers and your fans face to face—“pop the trunk”, as it were. Is that still the case with the internet and stuff?

That’s a great question. It used to be a huge thing but not so much now. Everybody would be coming through, selling CDs out of the trunk. Everybody was doing that—every rapper that I knew, from big to small. I think, with the internet, a lot of things have slowed down. The internet kinda took over a lot of things, but I still use that model where it’s hand-to-hand. Even now, travelling around different countries, you’re not making no money, you’re just pushing the word hand-to-hand, interacting with the people and giving them something they can keep forever. So I think it’s still important. You don’t want everything to be digital. The fans still wanna be able to feel you in the flesh and see you in the flesh, so that’s what we’re doing. I appreciate the hustle. I love the challenge, man.

You’ve released a lot of projects, sometimes two or three a year, but they all have their own identity. They’re all recognisable as being West Coast, though, whether it’s the G-funk element or the soul influence. How would you describe the West Coast sound?

I guess it’s a feeling. That feeling that makes you wanna get up and hustle and make some moves, and when you feel like you’re stagnating a bit or overthinking things. It makes you feel like you’ve gotta make it happen! And it comes from a real place in my heart. From the samples I use to my tone of voice and things I’m saying, you feel it. And that’s my goal. When I’m making music, I’ve got to feel it first. I’m my own biggest critic—I think everything I do is kinda trash. That’s just what it is.

The Bay Area has always danced to a different tune. From idiosyncratic subgenres like hyphy to the ocean of pioneers the area produced like E-40, Keak Da Sneak, Mac Dre, Too $hort and Messy Marv, the San Francisco hotspot has always been way, way ahead of the curve. It’s not just music that they do differently over there either—they have an entirely different way of doing business, too. The “hustler mentality” defines the vibrant town’s perspective on commerce, and it rests on two tenets: a tireless approach to money-making and, perhaps most importantly of all, building personal relationships with your consumers.

For Larry June—who just released The Great Escape, his new collaborative album with super-producer The Alchemist—that last point is everything. Even before he was making music, the beloved underground rapper was selling t-shirts and homemade juices from the trunk of his car. Making money was the point, of course, but the real goal was always to meet your customer face-to-face, shake their hand, and make sure they kept coming back. Even now, as most commerce has shifted solely into online spaces, the value of face-to-face sales is paramount.

Larry and Al flew over to Europe (first to Amsterdam, then London, and then Paris) for a quick run of small, intimate free shows recently. The very popular merch table at each show was the only source of income for these dates, which ran at a loss, but that didn’t matter because, at every turn, Larry June was figuratively popping the trunk, shaking hands, taking selfies and making memories with a fanbase who would value that forever.

We managed to catch up with Larry June just before he went on stage at London’s Omeara. The show was free to enter; all fans had to do was register and get their name on the list before they hit capacity—which ended up being approximately a 30-second window. The line was round the block and, inside, it was a packed sweatbox. Even Larry, ever a paragon of self-belief (“Good job, Larry”), seemed a little surprised by how rapturous the support was—even if he did his best to hide it behind sunglasses. 

“You can’t just say you’re a rapper and expect people to care—you have to put that time in. You shouldn’t expect nobody to believe in you when it’s not happening.” 

COMPLEX: How would you say the Bay Area has influenced you as an artist?

Larry June: Oh, man! The Bay Area’s influenced me a lot, from Mac Dre to The Jacka, Messy Marv, E40, Too $hort… It’s that I don’t give a fuck kinda energy, that I’m gonna talk my shit on these groovy beats kinda energy. I got a lot of influence from the Bay Area. Everything I do, musically, the Bay Area’s influence is heavy.

One thing that typifies the Bay Area mindset is the hustler mentality, but also the meeting your consumers and your fans face to face—“pop the trunk”, as it were. Is that still the case with the internet and stuff?

That’s a great question. It used to be a huge thing but not so much now. Everybody would be coming through, selling CDs out of the trunk. Everybody was doing that—every rapper that I knew, from big to small. I think, with the internet, a lot of things have slowed down. The internet kinda took over a lot of things, but I still use that model where it’s hand-to-hand. Even now, travelling around different countries, you’re not making no money, you’re just pushing the word hand-to-hand, interacting with the people and giving them something they can keep forever. So I think it’s still important. You don’t want everything to be digital. The fans still wanna be able to feel you in the flesh and see you in the flesh, so that’s what we’re doing. I appreciate the hustle. I love the challenge, man.

You’ve released a lot of projects, sometimes two or three a year, but they all have their own identity. They’re all recognisable as being West Coast, though, whether it’s the G-funk element or the soul influence. How would you describe the West Coast sound?

I guess it’s a feeling. That feeling that makes you wanna get up and hustle and make some moves, and when you feel like you’re stagnating a bit or overthinking things. It makes you feel like you’ve gotta make it happen! And it comes from a real place in my heart. From the samples I use to my tone of voice and things I’m saying, you feel it. And that’s my goal. When I’m making music, I’ve got to feel it first. I’m my own biggest critic—I think everything I do is kinda trash. That’s just what it is.