The Many Lives of Jack Antonoff

As a music enthusiast and appreciator of artistic excellence, I find the journey of Jack Antonoff, the multifaceted musician, songwriter, and producer, particularly intriguing. His work on the soundtrack for Apple TV+’s show about Christian Dior and Coco Chanel, “The New Look,” is a testament to his versatility and passion for storytelling through music.

In Jack Antonoff’s bright and expansive studio, which has the feel of a penthouse and boasts an extensive rooftop deck, various pop music masterpieces have been born. Here, pieces of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Short n’ Sweet” and Taylor Swift’s “The Tortured Poets Department,” as well as parts of her latest album “Midnights,” were developed. In the performance area, Antonoff brought Lorde’s “Melodrama” to life and shaped St. Vincent’s “Masseduction.” Behind a nearby closed door, work on the second Bleachers album was underway, and Lana Del Rey’s 2019 track “Venice Bitch” was carefully crafted.

Antonoff values space greatly, as he expressed while unwrapping a piece of Trident gum on the couch of his rooftop studio. “I place a lot of faith in open areas,” he remarked. Most days, this accomplished musician and superproducer can be found on the top floor of Electric Lady Studios, nestled within the West Village’s heart, where he enjoys a bohemian haven with brick walls adorned with Persian rugs and paisley-upholstered furniture. Previously, he worked in the basement, but the dim lighting didn’t resonate with him. “Currently, this is a place where I feel incredibly liberated, invigorated, and can echo off the walls,” he explained, gesturing towards its spaciousness. After more than two decades in an award-winning career that includes 11 Grammy wins and numerous platinum albums, what he seeks most when he comes here is to “surprise” himself.

Known for his extensive work in music production, Jack Antonoff has emerged as a preferred collaborator for many prominent pop musicians such as Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey, Carpenter, Lorde, and Florence + the Machine. Apart from assisting in creating hit albums, he frequently dedicates time to his band Bleachers or advocating for the New Jersey arts community through events like the Shadow of the City Festival. Lately, Antonoff has expanded his portfolio to include television and film production as well as composing for Broadway productions.

Regardless of his many talents, the 40-year-old individual, who goes by multiple titles, maintains a humble demeanor. He’s casually dressed in his characteristic thick-framed glasses, an aged vintage t-shirt, and olive pants when we encounter him in his downtown studio. During our meeting, Antonoff momentarily pauses from his constant work—a habit he frequently mentions on Twitter—to share insights about transitioning to Broadway for “Romeo + Juliet”, juggling his own ventures with those of other artists, and collaborating with Swift and Carpenter.

TIME: Romeo + Juliet is your first time composing for Broadway. What has that experience been like coming from pop producing?

Antonoff: I’ve come close to doing it numerous times before. Theatre director Sam Gold, whom I encountered years ago, reached out and asked if I would be interested in creating music for his concept of Romeo + Juliet. I’m really enjoying the process. Since it’s being performed live, there’s a lot of back-and-forth with synthesizer sounds. It’s a modern take on Shakespeare, yet it still resonates universally. The aspect I appreciate most about it is that it makes you momentarily forget that two young characters are destined to die due to the intense tension. It’s a blend of youth, sadness, and sexuality, all rolled into one. And then, suddenly, you realize, “Oh my goodness, these kids took their own lives,” which is the clever twist of it.

You said there’s a lot of synths. How would you define the genres you’re playing with?

The composition isn’t synthesized. I aimed to avoid making it overly formal or giving the impression of anthropomorphizing the subject. Instead, I envisioned Lindsey Buckingham’s rhythmic guitar style and discovered a palette with a warm tone. Although there are actual songs in it, it’s not a musical production.

You described your most recent studio album Bleachers as being about a lot of pretty mature subjects, like grief, marriage, trauma. How has your songwriting shifted alongside entering this new phase of life?

When Bleachers debuted, I desired for the initial impression to be a concise summary of my life experiences, hence composing “I Wanna Get Better.” This song is almost devoid of poetic elements; it’s more like a personal narrative. It swiftly recounts stories in three verses and offers a glimpse into my life up until that point. I wanted it to serve as an introduction, allowing me to later say, “Now you know the basics. Now let me elaborate more.” Over time, this connection with my audience has grown even stronger. I’m less preoccupied with newcomers to the band and more invested in nurturing this ongoing relationship with my fans. To me, they are distant friends, with whom I reconnect every couple of years.

The Many Lives of Jack Antonoff

How do you feel Bleachers has evolved over the last 10 years?

Over time, our group has organically transformed into something more than I initially anticipated. My songwriting has mirrored my personal journey quite remarkably. It’s as if my life is traveling along a busy American highway, while my creative work is zipping ahead at a faster pace on the adjacent lane. This means that when I listen to our albums, it often feels like I’m peering into the future. The transformation of our band has caught us all off guard, but in retrospect, the signs were always there to see.

It’s quite intriguing, actually. Regardless of whether you perceive me as a solo artist or a band leader, the truth is that Bleachers operates more like a band than any other group currently. Our structure is unique, and despite being a solo project, we maintain an element of mystery that has become our strength.

What do you mean by secrecy?

In the scope of all our actions, certain aspects attract a lot of attention, which in turn forms something akin to a shield for Bleachers. For every person who recognizes us as “that” band, there’s someone within Bleachers who sees us as a clandestine group. To put it simply, we view ourselves as maintaining our own exclusive circle, almost like a secret society or cult.

And yet, you’re playing Madison Square Garden this year.

This demonstrates the dedication of our show attendees and the essence of a genuine touring group. The crowd is incredibly close-knit, almost unbelievable. Regardless of the scale, it seems as if I’ve built personal relationships with everyone, which is quite unusual. It’s peculiar.

You have an ever-growing roster of artists you work with. How do you balance producing for other musicians alongside your own musical projects?

I don’t have trouble switching gears. I don’t know how I balance it. My life is way less structured than people might imagine. Touring is planned [but] a lot doesn’t get planned. I go to the studio, and then maybe someone comes by or maybe I just write for a while. I tend to be way more productive if I’m making things without thinking what they are. And then one day you’re like, “Oh, I see the framework of an album” and you hit that grinding period of making something. But a lot of my time is spent floating around until I start to see projects.

I feel like as a creative, multitasking can be thrilling.

Completely, and particularly when grouped under a broad category, creating various items allows them all to find their respective niches. It often feels as if ideas are taking flight within my mind. My focus is on continually producing content. There’s an overwhelming sense of expectation to accomplish numerous tasks, but I don’t truly subscribe to that ideology.

You aren’t haunted by that need to do or be more.

It’s always amusing when people label me as productive. I usually respond with, “I just create music.” Many others in my situation are juggling multiple projects. For me, going to the studio and touring is enough. I still harbor numerous thoughts about my future endeavors and approaches, but I don’t feel compelled to engage in anything else beyond that. Honestly, I haven’t felt the urge to do so since the beginning.

You’ve worked with primarily female artists. Has that been a conscious choice or is that more like a nod to the state of pop?

Every time I’m asked this question, I find myself at a loss for a satisfactory response. It seems to me that this issue is better suited for someone else to tackle, not for me. Frankly, I often feel overwhelmed by the presence of men around me, and I’d be curious to hear your thoughts on the matter.

I’ve always gravitated towards female artists in general, but in pop right now, I can’t even see any man that’s on the same level as any of the pop girls. Maybe the 1975, who are pop-leaning but straddle indie-rock.

Pop music is a unique genre where an artist often stands alone, displaying a sense of rebellion or defiance. When an artist forms a group and begins to express something together, it moves away from the concept of pop, as it’s no longer a single individual leading cultural shifts. Instead, it becomes a collective expression, which sets it apart for me.

It’s pretty obvious who’s killing right now. I feel like we’ve finally arrived at this place of people just liking what they like and the leading source being authenticity and soul. The people who are really happening are people who’ve been f-cking grinding and developing this amazing sound and perspective. I feel heartened by it.

Are you referring to Charli xcx, Chappell Roan, and Sabrina Carpenter or just more broadly?

Absolutely. The last few years have been incredibly dynamic for these three individuals, and I believe there’s a significant shared trait: an enormous amount of dedication poured into their work over a substantial period, which translates to a formidable strength in their craft.

I keep thinking of Sabrina’s trajectory and how long she toured and how many albums she released.

For a long time now, I’ve been associated with Sabrina. It’s something I take great pride in, my friend. Yet, it seems like she’s been excelling for ages – although others have only recently recognized this. This might be a relief to some people who may have doubted her earlier on. A person like Charli, I’ve known since the beginning. Bleachers debuted around the same time as she did. When you look at the whole picture, it appears that individuals are having these moments of success by continuously pushing this boulder uphill. It’s not about sudden changes or adopting new identities like “Polka,” but rather a genuine inspiration.

How did you end up producing for Sabrina?

For quite some time now, I’ve been familiar with her and have admired her music. Then came the day when Bleachers performed at Radio City Music Hall, and there she was in the front row. With her small stature and towering blonde hair, she stood out distinctly from others. I recall thinking to myself, “That was neat; Sabrina was at the concert.” Two weeks later, we bumped into each other at an event, and our initial encounter evolved into a more formal discussion about music. Our third meeting was the day we created those songs together.

I heard hints of Ariana Grande, Dolly Parton, and Joni Mitchell in Short n’ Sweet. How did the eclectic sound for the album come together?

The strongest connection I’ve sensed with Sabrina, which may not be immediately obvious to many, is ELO (Electric Light Orchestra). Our first studio session together, comprising Sabrina, myself, and songwriter Amy Allen, was one of those rare, memorable days that music enthusiasts dream of experiencing. On that day, we produced “Slim Pickins,” “Please, Please, Please,” and “Lie to Girls,” all of which made it onto the album and are among my favorites. What I recall about ELO is how fascinating it was because their songs had a folk-country or rock structure, yet they were adorned with wooden instruments, followed by an acoustic guitar, and then these synthesizers that sounded like outer space. The reason I admire referencing ELO and Jeff Lynne is that it seems as though some of the instrumentation was being discovered on the spot, and you can hear them marveling at their own creations. Much of her music, as well as Dolly Parton’s, had a raw, unpolished quality to it, which we aimed to preserve. In essence, I wanted the music to embody Sabrina’s unique blend of humor, depth, and wildness.

She’s so adept at weaving in intensity with humor.

There’s an element of playfulness throughout it all, and her delivery of intense moments feels even more impactful due to this contrasting mood. She has a unique style that resembles Leonard Cohen and Nick Cave in a way – she delivers deeply emotional statements and then lightens the atmosphere with unexpected humor. This is similar to how a powerful comedic moment can sometimes be more heart-wrenching than a full-blown war film, providing a more authentic reflection of real life.

What is your favorite song off of Short n’ Sweet?

I’m the foremost enthusiast of this project I worked on, and I must say, I’m quite fond of it. It’s unusual to feel this way about something you’ve created, but here we are. It’s Sabrina’s song, not mine. I didn’t pen a single lyric in it; she did all the writing.

Has there ever been a discussion of a fun. reunion?

Instead, my preference leans towards the bands No, Steel Train, and Anathallo. While I might experience a wave of nostalgia someday, I’m not quite there yet.

On that note, what drew you to curating the soundtrack for the Apple TV+ show about Christian Dior and Coco Chanel, The New Look?

It could have been my family’s history or circles I grew up in, but [I] consumed everything I [could] about World War II, the Holocaust, and the occupation. So when I heard about the project, I imagined what I could do with it, which was this time where news flowed in a weird way and there were these wartime propaganda songs that were trying to create a marketed concept of winning or glory. I loved the idea that I could go back and remake the songs however I saw fit. Having Nick Cave sing “La Vie En Rose,” having Florence [Welch] do “White Cliffs” [and] knowing what we know now. We could make it with all the knowledge of the future. That essentially is not very different than Romeo and Juliet.

What did you learn working with Taylor on The Tortured Poets Department, specifically?

Oh, every album we’ve created together has been such an enlightening experience for me. This latest one, in particular, stands out as a masterpiece. Its emotional range is so vast that it feels like a profound reflection of life today. So many artists seem to deliver definitive statements – ‘I am hurt,’ ‘I am angry,’ ‘I am sweet.’ But this album isn’t just about declarations; it’s a wild, tumultuous journey of love, loss, betrayal, and heartache, even including the escapist chapter in “Florida!!!”, one of my absolute favorites. To me, this project encapsulates our opus. The process of creating it was nothing short of a whirlwind.

I adore it immensely since this aspect resonates with me deeply: Creating an album is all about preserving the mood of the moment, and that’s the only method to do it effectively. To me, crafting an album requires approximately a year for it to find its true place, rather than just being active. Through this process, I picked up many insights. It led me to write more, even in my personal works, by delving a bit deeper into various emotions, as one might do when reflecting on their thoughts. TTPD swiftly traverses diverse emotional landscapes, which I believe reflects how many of us are living. I think that’s why it resonates with so many listeners.

Is there a sonic direction or genre that you’d want to explore with Taylor that you haven’t?

I tend to act spontaneously rather than planning ahead. My actions usually unfold as we move along, moment by moment, within a given space. While I may have thoughts and ideas about what could be interesting or appealing, these thoughts often hinder my ability to truly grasp the present situation.

You worked on Lana Del Rey’s last album Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd. Have you been helping her shape her next album Lasso?

Instead of discussing things before they are released, I prefer to let the music speak for itself first. I don’t want to influence people’s initial reactions by providing context or expectations before they hear it. By talking about upcoming work, I risk creating preconceived notions that may detract from their listening experience.

You always post on Twitter, Instagram, like, “I’m always busy working. I’m working right now.” How did that bit start?

I don’t remember. I’m sort of resigned to remembering that the internet is for jokes. For some reason at some point, I just started tweeting back, “Can’t talk, I’m at work.” If you’re looking for deeper meanings, that’s how I see the internet, as a place for dumb bits.

2024-10-01 23:08