Named after an imaginary monster that terrorized his girlfriend's younger brother, Peanut Butter Wolf has earned his props in the scene, first by partnering with MC Charizma (who was tragically murdered just as the duo was signed to Disney's Hollywood/ Basic Records), and then by a string of solo projects culminating with this year's My Vinyl Weighs A Ton. He's kept the entrepreneurial skills he developed in his school days sharp via his Stones Throw record label, which has thrown down some of the most vital sounds in the region, including Lootpack, Rasco, and DJ Babu.
In this exclusive Q&A, LAUNCH.com catches up with PBW at a San Francisco eatery and gets the word about how his obsession came to be.
LAUNCH:
What were some of the first records you bought?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I bought a lot of funk records, like Parliament, Fatback, Cameo, a lot of groups like that.
LAUNCH:
How'd you hear stuff like that?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
It was on the station KSOL that was up here. Actually, Sly from Sly & the Family Stone used to DJ on that radio station like years ago. I just read about that years later, I wasn't born when he was DJing. But that's how I learned a lot of my stuff, and going to roller-rinks and stuff.
LAUNCH:
How old were you then?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I was like, nine years old.
LAUNCH:
And how'd you support this habit?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
Basically by not eating. I'd get my lunch money and I'd save it. At the end of the week I'd go and buy a couple of 45s. I really could only afford the 45s back then, but I religiously bought them...I think I've always had an addictive personality, like with music, also baseball cards, video games. But the music I kinda stuck with.
LAUNCH:
When did you start actually making music?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I was a bedroom DJ for several years. I got my first mixer in 1983, that's when I started practicing scratching and mixing and stuff. But I didn't really start going into studios until '89. It was around that time I put out a record called "You Can't Swing This" with this group Lyrical Prophesy. 500 copies, not mastered or anything. It sounds like crap [laughs]. It's kind of a funny novelty to listen to that now.
LAUNCH:
Who was your community back then?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
It was really more of a breakdancing community, I think. There weren't as many DJs at all. Everybody wanted to break. And I think a lot of it, this is when I was in high school, people couldn't afford to get equipment but they could afford to dance...They were like all popping and breaking.
LAUNCH:
So there weren't many people around for you to learn from?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
All I really had was listening to people's records. There were no videos, no battles--I didn't know about the battles back then.
LAUNCH:
Did you ever have a mentor?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I think I learned more from the records. I've never really been a battle DJ, I'm more of a producer, I'm more of a recording DJ, I think. When I DJ out, I more or less try to keep the party going. I just want everybody to have a good time.
LAUNCH:
Did your parents support you when they saw this was something more than a phase?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I think they thought it was a fun hobby for me, but they didn't think it was gonna be a career. My dad was always telling me, "There's only one Michael Jackson." And I said, "Well, I don't want to be a Michael Jackson." No disrespect to him, but the kind of stuff I was doing, there were a lot of people doing it, and he didn't understand it. I come from a long line of math-minded on my dad's side. Everybody's got their masters and doctorate degrees, they're all chemists and that kind of thing.
LAUNCH:
What brought you to San Francisco?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I kinda moved up the peninsula because I worked at a record distributor for a while. I was trying to learn that end of it as well. I figured, if I'm gonna be nine-to-five-ing it, I might as well do something that's kinda related. I put out a breakbeat record called Peanut Butter Breaks at the time, and I was getting a lot of good response from it but it wasn't in all the stores, so I figured, working at a distributor, I could get that record in the stores more. Eventually I moved to San Francisco and started meeting a lot of the DJs up here.
LAUNCH:
Who do you work with on your music?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
For my album [My Vinyl Weighs A Ton] I worked with a lot of people. Almost every track on my album is a collaboration with somebody else. I used to be in a group with the rapper Charizma, but he passed away. After that happened I kinda didn't really want to even be in a crew. I don't know, it just wasn't really interesting to me.
LAUNCH:
Tell me about your label, Stones Throw.
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I've always wanted to have my own label, even in '85. I recently found old high school papers where I was talking about how when I grow up I'm going to have a record label and stuff. I'd forget even writing that. There's a lot of talent in the Bay Area that gets overlooked. And I think a lot of people have the dream of being A&R and trying to really sell other people's records, so I'm trying to follow through with that dream.
LAUNCH:
Which Stones Throw artists sell well?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
Catalog-wise, it's not like there's one artist that did really well. Lootpack's doing well, Rasco's doing well. I haven't put out anything that I was really disappointed with yet.
LAUNCH:
What are some of the upcoming projects?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
Lootpack's album's coming out next month--I'm really waiting for that. And I'm starting a 7-inch series too. That's more like the hobby-type thing. Everybody knows you can't really make much money on 7-inches, but it gives you the ability to put out stuff that you can't necessarily put out on a bigger record or put a whole album out from that artist.
LAUNCH:
What would be your dream situation right now?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I think I'd like to have more time to start making records again. The record label stuff is kinda taking over for me right now. It's hard, some days, it seems like when I was recording my album I was getting sick of recording too, so I think it's just good to do one thing for a while and take a break and then do your shows and then after that go back to the studio. I don't know, I think I'm doing everything I like to do right now.
LAUNCH:
What do you think about the older-school people having a better vinyl hand and the newer-school people having a better fader hand?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
I think I'm definitely more vinyl-handed. Back then it was a lot more cutting, trying to see how fast you could move the vinyl, more like chirping sounds and stuff. Now it's more a lot of flaring sounds.
LAUNCH:
You wanna talk about being white in hip-hop?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
It's become a big thing lately--not with me--but it's funny, just all the headlines in magazines, they're all, when they're talking about Eminem, they're not talking about him being Eminem, they're talking about him being white. Him, Everlast, Vanilla Ice--three totally different types of rappers, but they all get clumped together because of the white thing. But for me, I don't know. It hasn't really been as much of an issue because I think I'm more behind the scenes. When you're a white rapper, you're kinda dissected more, I think.
LAUNCH:
Even within the community?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
Uh-huh. When I was younger, probably more. I really don't have any real horror stories of being accepted or whatever. I've always just been myself. I think it's when you try to act like something that you're not where people start to tease you. But who knows, maybe it was all behind my back. [laughs]
LAUNCH:
But did people accept you and let you participate?
PEANUT BUTTER WOLF:
Yeah. I remember a lot of times in high school I would go to parties and someone would be DJing and I'd try to get on their set and do scratching and stuff and people would be all, "Oh sh-t, that white boy." Whatever. I think it's more [that] people get surprised when they see me. Not so much because I'm white, but that I don't really dress super hip-hop. I don't walk the walk and talk the talk of what hip-hop's supposed to be. But hip-hop really has been accepted as a universal artform.
