He is a journalist They often wait indefinitely for an interviewee to come on a Zoom call or walk into a tag office. you are rarely in their living room waiting for them to come out of their bedroom. But here I am in French Montana's Manhattan apartment after Cam's assistant calls me in and lets me know he's coming out soon to talk about his new mixtape. Mac & Cheese 5.
The wait gives me time to look at the view from his living room window. I won't blow his point, but it is filled with a beautiful view of a bridge and river shimmering on a sunny February day. It looks like a live action screen saver. After about 10 minutes of waiting, the sound of slippers scraping the floor breaks the silence, never more ominous to me than when French walks down his hallway and turns the corner into the living room. Always dapper, he wears a colorful set of PJs (?) and a pink durag.
We make out and he tells me it feels great. “New York!” radiates for the city that exudes emotion in name alone. He is someone with a fascinating understanding of the myriad experiences the Big Apple has to offer. French arrived in the Bronx as a Moroccan immigrant in 1996, took a strange turn on the streets after VISA issues destroyed his basketball dreams, curated the infancy of digital rap media through Cocaine City DVD, and is now two decades into a rap career that has given him the stature to invite Kim Kardashian to a birthday party in Hidden Hills. The 39-year-old has lived many lives and tells me he's looking at more big axes.
After telling me that someone gave him a zebra for his last birthday and Swizz Beatz gave him a camel in 2022 — both returned, he tells me, “I'm going to find a place to build a little animal ranch. I feel like there's a certain energy you get from animals that you don't get anywhere else.” Relaxing back in his black section, he notes, “I feel like I work hard enough that I just want to switch it up [and be] somewhere where I could be quiet. But I want somewhere by the beach, where we all hang out [from the public]. I might have a tiger there or something [could] rip someone.” He adds, “I would love to enjoy it for at least 10 years of my life. Just be around more animals and good people.” Although he dreams of sandier pastures, that doesn't mean he's leaving music behind to become Dr. Dolittle.
He cites artists like Jay-Z, Nas and Snoop Dogg as examples of rap wear he chooses to follow. “One of the biggest inspirations for me is that LL Cool J has been in the game for forty years. I feel like we're the new rock stars,” he says. “Now we can actually see someone fifty-five years old go to the booth and there's still love.” French feels poised to emulate their longevity, even as he has become one of the most polarizing artists in the rap game. While some attribute his rap weariness to mastering a signature charisma sound and catchy adlibs over impeccably chosen beats, others believe he survives only because of traits. In 2020, when he claimed he could “hit it” with Kendrick Lamar on Verzuz, he opened himself up to widespread ridicule.
But perhaps the Frenchman has the right to feel himself. He is the highest streamed artist of African descent of all time with 40+ billion streams, currently has 18 tracks on the Billboard Hot 100 and has an indelible place in the mixtape scene from the late 2000s to the early 2010s .He was good for a watch when so many of New York's most respected lyricists hadn't gotten the memo that the rubric for mass appeal had changed. It would have been easy for him to ignore the ridicule and keep laughing to the bank, but he addressed the criticism on “Dirty Bronx Intro,” a lead single from the album where he borrowed from DMX's Damien and the “Gimme The Loot” scheme. of Biggie by rapping with a high-pitched alter-ego meant to represent a competitive fan.
“Yes, you sold 100 million, but it's all features,” growls the French snipe, impersonating his critics. “Never that, most of my boards, I'm the feature. Niggas barely turn gold, I had to dominate,” the real Frenchman replies. Today, even a terminally offline artist like Andre 3000 can't ignore rap's discourse. every rapper knows the dominant talking points about them. And French, who courted controversy in 2017 for calling a critic a “musty and dusty rusty ass” with “poetic plaits of diapered justice,” has criticized the sentiment in problematic ways. “Dirty Bronx Intro” was a more constructive approach to criticism. He tells me he made the song to give his fans some ammunition in their rap discussions — which is why he shot the video in a barbershop, the most hallowed of hip-hop heads' chat rooms.
“It's almost like I'm giving people who don't watch interviews an interview in my music,” he surmises. “There are people who may not follow me when I do interviews. If you're a fan who always stands up for me, I have to stand on something here.” When I ask him how he feels about the obsolescence, he says, “Everybody has to be fueled by something. If everything is always positive, there is no fuel.”
In For Khadija, an autobiography of his and his mother's trip to New York that will be on Paramount Plus later this year, French describes how external negativity inspired his solo career. When his close friend and collaborator Max B was sentenced to 75 years for murder, hip-hop consumers questioned his ability to remain relevant on his own. But instead of fading away, he teamed up with producer Harry Freud, formed the Coke Boys and got to work. Eventually, the buzz of singles like “Choppa Choppa Down” and “Shot Caller” propelled him from GOOD Music, Roc Nation, Bad Boy and MMG, and he signed a joint deal with the latter two in 2012. Like his brothers in the Bronx Fat Joe, his work ethic (he has over 24 mixtapes) and knack for the right single have helped him persevere over the years, giving him an interesting place in the New York rap generation.
“I feel like I'm the bridge,” she says. “Among the OG [like] Puff, Jay-Z, Nas and all of them to the DThangs and the Fivios and the Ice Spices and whoever comes up to town. I feel like I'm right in the middle. I could jump in here. I could jump in there.”
French's apartment looks like a mesh of millionaire rapper and bachelor. His living room looks like something out of Elle Decor, with a plush couch and a colorful rug spread across the living room floor. Of Please excuse my French plaque hanging on a wall near the window. In luxury, he has one Demolition man pinball, a large pool table and a Tony The Tiger game standing in one corner. Next to the pool table is a white board with a handwritten track list called “Mac & Cheese 5 brainstorming.” I imagine at one point the board was chaotic as the ever-creative artist churned out songs for the project. But the board was settled – it was game time. The decision-making process was simple for the French this time. Mentioning “platinum street” songs like “I'm On It” featuring Wiz Khalifa, Nipsey Hussle, Big Sean and “Devil Want My Soul,” he tells me he knows exactly what he likes to deliver with Mac & Cheese series.
“I'm not chasing a perfect eight with a pop hook,” he says. “If you don't feel that stirring in your soul when you hear it, I'm not doing my job.” French says the album is the result of a “something for everyone” mentality. Maybe that's why on streaming the album has a standard 21-track version, an acapella version, slow-down and speed-up versions, instrumental versions, and one categorized as “versions” with all 126 songs. But beyond the deluge of DSP, there's a wide variety of soundscapes on the album: “Stand United” with Kanye and Saint JHN recalls old Kanye with a looping vocal sample and break drums, “Too Fun” with Brooklyn group 41 explores Jersey Club drill wave, “Other Side” is an ode to “princess therapy” and Millionaire Row featuring Rick Ross and Meek Mill transports listeners back to MMG's early 2000s peak.
French says he aims to have “five pieces for everyone” in the project, and the methodology is based on his vast network. “When I'm around D Thang and I can't play him Kanye sometime, I have to play him 41 shit to get them dancing,” he says. “There are different characters that exist around me when I make my albums.” The “characters” referred to in French at random are some of the defining figures of turn-of-the-century music. He tells me about a random studio session that The Weeknd broke into:
“Me and him got three, four songs [but] I never saw him record in front of me” he prefaces. “One day I'm in the studio. Quavo was in there. And [Weeknd] came in [and asked] “French, what are you working on?” I had a rhythm playing. He entered the booth and did so [a] the entire record. I keep it real, I didn't know his voice sounded so good. Everyone got tricks. But in that movement I said, “This guy is the truth.” He adds, “When you're dealing with people you'll think it's hard to reach them. [but] they are really waiting for the right moment to come and see you.”
French says the production on Mac & Cheese 5 it is the result of collecting sample sources around the world, including excavating crates overseas. “I stopped my massage before, grabbed my phone, opened Shazam to get that sound,” she says. “[It’ll] to be the strangest faces. The girl says 'what are you doing?'”
And French says the soundscaping doesn't stop there: “A lot of people don't know I'm behind the production. It doesn't matter what producers I have in there. They are more likely to put on drums, no disrespect to anyone's art and what they bring to the table. I chase a specific sound and deliver it to the producer. I'm like, “Hey, I want you to put the drums here, do this, do that.”
French says he will implement this process Casino Life 3, a project he has already started working on, including an Intro with Nipsey Hussle. It will also release the soundtrack for For Khadija later this year, which will include “Big Pun” with Drake (executive producer of the documentary). But until then, French is letting his fans eat a hearty helping Mac & Cheese.
from our partners at https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/french-montana-interview-new-album-1234975485/