Jack Harlow has spent the last few years rising in Louisvilles hip-hop scene, dropping catchy beats and rhymes that lean into nostalgia, contemplate empathy and deal with depression. Currently on his first headlining tour, Harlow has sold out the Mercury Ballroom in advance of the show, the final performance of the 14-city run. We caught up with Harlow to talk about some of the songs and themes on his latest mixtape, Gazebo.
LEO: Whats the title, Gazebo, about? Im told its a mixtape and not an album, actually. Whats the difference in your mind? Is it just a clearance thing for samples? Jack Harlow: Its just a name that me and my best friend came up with. The music was done, but we didnt have a name. We had the cover art and all these songs that were done, but we didnt even have a name. We got to Gazebo, and we just liked how it sounds. For me, [calling it a mixtape] is about how I perceive the music Im dropping. I know Im going to drop an album eventually. Its nothing too technical. I just wanted to call it a mixtape. I know the streaming services have kind of blurred the line. Mixtapes used to be, like you said they would come out for free, it was a looser project, people just put some music together.
In the song Detox, you talk about finding your inspiration in town. What is it about Louisville that inspires you? Is it just familiarity, the environment or what? I think its just being home. It is the familiarity. There is a different nostalgia. Im super inspired by previous selves. Maybe not me right now, but who I was in the past. You drive around, and you get inspired by these things. Its huge for me.
On Routine, there are references to modern hip-hop legends. Did your family get you into hip-hop? My mom did. She put me onto all of it. OutKast, Eminem, Tribe Called Quest. She was really into it from before I was born. My dad is a big country fan, played a lot of Johnny Cash, Johnny Paycheck or Willie Nelson. Thats what my dads into. He likes my slower, more melodic stuff. I dont think bass does much for [him]. Hes not much of a head nodder he really likes to kick it. Sometimes, I think about [inspiring a new generation]. In the end, Im going to be thinking about that a lot. You want to inspire, as much as youve been inspired. I dont always look at it that way, because Im trying to figure it all out myself. Im focused on being inspired and trying to do better. A lot of kids hit me up and told me that I inspired them, and made me feel that I can do this too. Its kind of priceless.
What is the Wasted Youth you talk about? What is that to you? I would say that its just… you spend a lot of time not doing anything. I would spend a lot of time in cars in parking lots, doing nothing, and that shit starts to build up. A lot of the times, the dopest stuff, you cant force it to happen. It just happens. Its just me lamenting those times. It just stacks up. Inspiration from nothing.
In Tightrope, you talk about fading empathy. Is that sociopolitical commentary, or just cynicism that comes with age? I would say its both. One, because I think its a super fleeting feeling for a lot of people, including myself. A lot of times its not fair. I know that when I am an empathetic person, and Im in touch with it, its super powerful. It can do so much for you. Its very hard to be hostile with someone if youre empathetic. I spend time thinking about how everyone is having their own experience. Its the best thing ever. A lot of times, its there, and a lot of times it isnt. It tends to come in waves. The thing I find thats super hard for me its not hard to put things in perspective, to build good habits but to keep shit that way. I know I should be empathetic. Its hard to be good always, even when you know. Ive just realized as Ive gotten older that its about discipline. I dont know, its easy to get so blinded. Every feeling out there is fleeting. There is so much of me that wishes that I could do high school again and be a better human. I wasnt a bully or anything, but a lot of motherfuckers were depressed. Scared. Lost. It doesnt take much to extend some kindness.
Jack Harlow Saturday, Jan. 27
Mercury Ballroom
611 S. Fourth St.
mercuryballroom.com 9 p.m. | Sold out
This article appears in January 24, 2018.