On the 22nd floor of Sony’s Midtown Manhattan headquarters, Future—aka 30-year-old Nayvadius Cash—is fucking with a journalist over the phone. “This is a moment we’ll remember forever,” Future shouts into the speakerphone as a disembodied voice stumbles on its words. “This was the greatest interview of all time!” He then picks up the handset and slams it down onto the receiver.
The Auto-Tune auteur is peeling around his label Epic's office for a full press day; he’s shaken a lot of hands and is in a playful mood. In between interviews, he walks past a receptionist and tries to lure her away from her current "ham sandwich" existence with promises of steak, lobster, and a personal assistant post. His security guy Charles brings in a bag of take-out from nearby high-end Chinese restaurant Phillipe, and Future stuffs an egg roll in his mouth while twiddling an orange-pink chicken skewer in his long digits, his ring finger inked with a C, for his fiancée Ciara. (The two are expecting a son in the coming weeks.)
Later, a conference room full of Instagramming writers listen to cuts from his forthcoming album Honest, along with a Nicki Minaj collaboration that won’t be on the record because of clearance issues around its sample of George Michael’s "Careless Whisper". As it plays, a manager reminds us not to record the full track. “Leak that shit!” Future screams with glee.
Two years in the making, Honest, which is due out April 22, is stacked with an impressive guest list including Kanye West, Drake, Andre 3000, Pharrell, and Wiz Khalifa. And while he boasts that "the caliber of artists that I got on my album is unheard of," Future also admits that "the politics that go along with that shit is a lot to fucking deal with."
"When you mix a record that someone else is on, you've got to send it to them, they've got to like the mix, you got to like the mix, the producer's got to like the mix," he continues. "Too many people are involved! That's why it took so long. Would I do it again? Fuck no! I can drop an album in July if I want to because I don't have to deal with this lawyer, that lawyer, you not responding in a timely manner, you you you you you—it's always about you, it's never about me. I don't want to be put in that situation again. I'm making all my fucking beats now, so I ain't got to deal with nobody but myself."
Though Honest features a number of “hard-fucking-core” songs—“My Momma”, “Move That Dope”,” “Covered N Money”—it also includes some of the most orchestral production celebrated trap producers like 808 Mafia and Metro Boomin have ever created. The first song on the record, “Look Ahead”, features a sample from the blind African duo Amadou & Mariam and could be described as this album’s answer to Drake’s Take Care opener “Over My Dead Body”.
As my one-on-one time with Future draws to a close, he abruptly gets up to leave the room. Since our interview had him constantly comparing his life to a movie and peppering his responses with the phrase “no edit,” I ask him if cutting the interview short could count as an edit as he lingers in the doorway.
“Man, when the President says a speech, he tells the people ‘Thanks for coming out here’ and walks away,” he responds. “He don't tell you why he's walking away, he just walks away. We giving you scripts! You get script after script, line after line, no edit. We're going to be looking at this interview 10 years from now and saying, 'Nigga, we made it!'"
Pitchfork: You’ve mentioned that Honest is your most personal album. Why?
Future: Because I'm telling you certain things on these songs I shouldn't even say. But I'm willing to step over my boundaries to be able to explain to my fans the man that I've become.
Pitchfork: Is there a song on the record that communicates that most clearly?
F: "Blood, Sweat, Tears". This album is for the people who thought I was some fly-by-night artist. They don't even understand it! You have to listen to every song and see every picture and all my tweets to really understand this shit. If you wasn't following me every fucking day, then you don't know! You couldn't see this coming! I don't just write hits for myself, or for other artists, or to just be writing it. I write it because I was born to do this. I was given this gift and I'm making the most of my opportunity.
Pitchfork: There are a lot of love songs on this album...
F: There are no love songs on this album. What song was about love?
Pitchfork: The hook on "I Won" sounds like it's praising women, or a woman.
F: "I Won" is not a love song. It's just me uplifting women in general. I'm giving women the power to treat themselves as a trophy—to show that and know it in yourself and be confident—because when they do that, whoever they're with is winning. I'm not teaching motherfuckers how to love.
Pitchfork: Legendary Atlanta production team Organized Noize—which was co-founded by your cousin Rico Wade—is having its 20th Anniversary this year, and I can feel their stamp on Honest between the Big Rube spoken outro and Andre 3000’s involvement.
F: That's my way of showing them I'm loyal. Big Rube was on my first album and some of my mixtapes. His words are so powerful. I want to speak every word he says into existence. I wanna be a part of that! I wanna be a part of greatness. His wordplay is great to me. Can't nobody fuck with him when it comes to this shit. This nigga should be writing for motherfucking The New York Times.
Pitchfork: I saw the video that Ciara posted last week where she's dancing to "Move That Dope" while very pregnant.
F: Man, [my son] started movin' that dope! He started movin' his toe! Started stepping on his momma's stomach—I saw the footprint through her stomach when that song came on. He was like, "This cool!"
Pitchfork: Have you started getting gifts for the baby yet?
F: For sure. There's so many gifts packed all the way to the ceiling. It's gonna take a month to go through that shit. But I'm so thankful. We got baby clothes, moccasins in every color. He got the Carmelo shoes. Jordan. Everybody sending shoes for my dawg. He 'bout to be turnt up and fly. He already flier than me. My son is better than me. What the fuck?
Shout out to all my other kids, too! I love my kids. Three boys and one girl. And then my adopted son—I knew this kid when I was going with his mom when he was one year old and now he about to be 10. So even now when I'm in my relationship and I'm getting married, I still treat him like he my son because I'm all he know. I don't even like to say "my adopted son" because he's watching all my interviews on YouTube and I know it would hurt him if he heard me saying I wouldn't claim him. I take care of him. Period. That's my son. I love him like he pumpin' the same blood through him. I can't let this kid down. He looks up to me.
Pitchfork: Does being engaged to a musician inform how you make music?
F: She understands why I'm making the music that I'm making. She understands that it's a missing link to Future Hendrix. She know that. She like, "Tell your fucking story however you want to tell it, uncut and raw, man. Don't hold nothing back." And I did it. And I'm proud.
