TRANSCRIPT Bullseye with Jesse Thorn: Terrace Martin

Born in Los Angeles’ Crenshaw District, Terrace Martin found a love for hip-hop early on. The kids growing up around him were freestyling and playing in backyard shows. He grew up in a jazz household, and got his start as a saxophonist, too. With those two backgrounds, Terrace kicked off a career that would make him a trailblazing polymath in pop music. He’s worked with rappers like Snoop Dogg, YG and Murs. He was heavily involved in Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly, producing many songs on the album including the hit King Kunta. We’re revisiting our conversation from 2017. At the time, he’d just released The Sounds of Crenshaw Volume 1 with his band, the Pollyseeds. In 2020, he released seven EPs – including Village Days, and Dinner Party late last year. When he joined us we talked about his thoughts on hip-hop, and jazz that’s taught in academic settings. Plus, why working with Kendrick Lamar was so important to him.

Guests: Terrace Martin

Transcript

music

Gentle, trilling music with a steady drumbeat plays under the dialogue.

promo

Speaker: Bullseye with Jesse Thorn is a production of MaximumFun.org and is distributed by NPR. [Music fades out.]

music

“Huddle Formation” from the album Thunder, Lightning, Strike by The Go! Team.

jesse thorn

It’s Bullseye. I’m Jesse Thorn. Terrace Martin—a musician and producer—was born in Los Angeles’s Crenshaw District. He first started in music as a saxophonist who played in jazz bands, went to an arts high school, and even went to band camp. He wasn’t much older than 18 when he figured out that life wasn’t for him. At the same, the kids growing up around him were freestyling and making mixtapes and beats. And who wouldn’t be excited about that? With those two parallel backgrounds, Terrace kicked off a career that would make him a trailblazing polymath in popular music. As a producer, he’s worked with Snoop Dogg, Charlie Wilson, YG, Kendrick Lamar. As a solo artist, he’s released about half a dozen albums. Terrace channels classic artists like Sly Stone, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, and Herbie Hancock, while also landing some pretty great features—heavy hitters like Kamasi Washington, Thundercat, Wiz Khalifa, and the aforementioned K Dot. Terrace isn’t the kind of guy to be slowed down by anything, including a pandemic. [Music fades in.] In 2020, he released seven EPs, including Village Days, a record that features a jazz tribute to the late Nipsey Hussle.

music

“The Voice of King Nipsey” from the album Village Days by Terrace Martin. [Volume decreases and continues under the dialogue then fades out.]

jesse

When I interviewed Terrace Martin in 2017, he’d just released a record with his band, The Pollyseeds. It’s called the Sounds of Crenshaw, Vol. 1. Here’s a little bit from it. [Music fades in.] An instrumental called “Funny How Time Flies”.

music

“Funny How Time Flies” from the album the Sounds of Crenshaw, Vol. 1 by Terrace Martin Presents The Pollyseeds. Funny how time flies when you’re having fun Funny how time flies when you’re having fun [Volume decreases and continues under the dialogue then fades out.]

jesse

Terrace Martin, welcome to Bullseye. I’m thrilled to have you on the show.

terrace martin

Man, thank you for having me. Thank you for having me.

jesse

You’re really emphatic about blurring the lines in music, not creating boxes in music. Do you think of yourself as a hip-hop producer or as a jazz musician?

terrace

I think of myself as a few different things, but the—but the—how I like to explain that is: I don’t think of myself with any of—as any one particular musician. My foundation is hip-hop music. After hip-hop, I discovered jazz. So, those are my foundation things and those are always my point of directions for most of my influence and most of the records that I do. I always can find a certain energy in my point of direction, which is hip-hop or jazz. That’s why, in my CD player right now, it’s anywhere from Sonny Stitt to Dexter Gordon to Too $hort to [inaudible] to N.W.A. to Joni Mitchell. It is hard to define the kind of guy I am because of my foundation are made up things that are gumbles of other things. You know. So, you know. I think right now I am a musician and I’m a producer of many things—records and children. [They laugh.]

jesse

I appreciate, by the way, you throwing the Yay in there a little bit. I mean, I know you’re pandering to me, but I appreciate it nonetheless.

terrace

Look—no! No, hey look, you know—I wrote a song called “Oakland” on my last record. People will tell you I would live in west Oakland if I could right now. I can’t, because every day I’m so involved with pushing this LA thing to the next level.

jesse

Let’s talk about the gap between hip-hop and jazz music. [Terrace hums in agreement several times as Jesse continues.] You know, there’s a legacy of people connecting hip-hop and jazz. But it’s mostly been by, like, inviting one jazz musician to play a solo on a hip-hop record. Or it’s been super corny. What do you see as being the things they share and what do you see as the things that are different?

terrace

I think, number one, both jazz and—if we’re just classifying, putting these things—both jazz and hip-hop both come from Black people. And they both come—some of the foundation is struggle and happiness and, you know, just living. We all go through a lot of the same [censored] and all these songs are usually written from somebody’s perspective or somebody’s—what they went through, you know? You listen to Miles Davis in the—like, Live at the Plugged Nickel, and he’s playing “Milestones” and so intent and there’s Tony Williams hitting all those slick polyrhythms on the drums, Ron Carter, all that harmony, Herbie Hancock playing intense, intense. You gotta understand what was going on outside while they were playing that music. Black folks was getting swarmed with water hoses, beat, hung, killed, everything. This was the ‘60s. That music was a reflection of what the hell was going on outside. Hip-hop. You listen to “F**k Tha Police” by N.W.A.. That music is nothing more but another reflection from what’s going outside. The difference is there’s no instruments in these young Black man’s hands. It’s microphones and turntables. When I think of corny jazz—and this is no disrespect of anybody out there getting they money in the school system, the universities that’s teaching jazz—but when jazz got institutionalized, that’s what made it [censored] corny. When you start having to go to a classroom—and that’s beautiful, to learn the harmony and everything—but when you have—when you have kids that’s coming from all these different places, which it is. It’s for everybody. But now you have a kid that he may not have went through the struggle, ‘cause Hank Mobley did, but now he could transcribe a Hank Mobley solo. And now he could be accepted for playing a Hank Mobley solo on a gig. You dig what I’m saying? That’s corny to me, sounding like somebody else is corny. So, when jazz got institutionalized and mother[censored] started waking up at eight o’clock in the morning studying the [censored] and breaking down the [censored] and they ain’t sacrificed [censored], they ain’t went through nothing—which is cool. The music is for everybody. But the art of doing it comes from something else. Period. And I’m a kid that grew up in a jazz household and everything. So, I know! You know? When you grow up playing jazz, you live in hotels sometimes. Your family has no money sometimes. ‘Cause you’re playing jazz. When you grow up with a hip-hop dream, you live up growing [censored] ‘cause sometimes your family has no money, but you have a dream of hip-hop. What’s the difference? Is it drums and jazz? Is it a struggle in jazz? Is it drums for hip-hop? Struggle in hip-hop? It’s struggle in both of these things, so how dare somebody separate these things? Especially from a person that lived both angles of the [censored] and realized it’s no difference. And I wish it was, ‘cause maybe I was taught if I just played jazz sometime and smiled, maybe I’ll play in the Lincoln Center Jazz Band one day and get a job and wear a suit and tie every mother[censored] day of my [censored] life. Or maybe I’ll do hip-hop and get a big car and a big chain and [censored] all the bad [censored] and get my family out the ghetto. It’s both when you’re trying to get stability. So, what’s the difference? So, that’s why I don’t blur lines in jazz and hip-hop.

jesse

I wanna play one of the first hip-hop production credits that you’ve got. It’s from the 213 album—that’s Snoop Dogg, Nate Dogg, and Warren G. [Music fades in.]

terrace

Ah, “Joystick”.

jesse

Yeah, it’s called “Joystick”.

music

“Joystick” from the album The Hard Way by 213. She said she wants to ride my joystick She act like she wanna ride my joystick I got it locked when it comes to females Y'all [censored] still buying (buying) at retail It's a gift that keeps giving to all [censored] Like that little country [censored] I [censored] a day ago [Music fades out.]

jesse

Sort of sweet-tempered verse, there. [Terrace laughs.] Was that the first—was that the first time you got your—you got your name on a record?

terrace

Yeah, as a producer, yes. As a producer, without behind somebody else and being the secret guy, yes.

jesse

And you were working with Battlecat at the time?

terrace

Yeah, a lot. Studying with him and living at his house. He was teaching me a lot, man. He—

jesse

He’s a sort of—for folks who don’t know, like a really legendary LA G-Funk producer. [Terrace agrees several times.] Probably underappreciated outside of California.

terrace

Yes. But he’s like a—his talent is in everything I do today. You know. He’s—you know, he’s like a Duke Ellington of my world. You know. I didn’t give that beat to Snoop. I think I gave that beat to Warren. And Warren was working with Nate a whole lot and I had just got with Nate, too, so I was working with Nate a whole lot. You know. Catching the bus out to his house in Woodland Hills and they would go—we would from Woodland Hills, go to Irvine where Warren G’s studio was and that’s a long drive, Irvine. And they did that—they did “Joystick” and I remember Warren calling to say, “Yo, we got one.” You know, “We’re gonna use ‘Joystick’ for the 213 record.” And I was like, “What? What?!” It was “Joystick”, another one I did for Warren, called “PYT”—him, Snoop, and Nate. And it was three of them they did. That’s the one that made it, but I remember that. That was a huge feeling—and I was on the road with Snoop when that came out. I remember we was in Wichita, Kansas.

jesse

Were you playing with his band?

terrace

I was playing with his band. And we was in Wichita, Kansas, and I remember going to the CD store and spending all my per diem on like five of the CDs and just looking—just kept looking at them like, “Wow. I—how did I get from here to a CD?” You know. That was a—that was a—that was big for me, ‘cause I was like—people who know me, they said my name on the radio—I remember that felt more—just saying my name felt—I felt so appreciated, you know? I felt like 20-something years, at that point, of struggle was over. Like—and it was. That was a monumental time. That was like, “I’m a producer. I’m a producer and I have a credit. I could do this! I could do this.” You know.

jesse

LA has this musical tradition—I mean, you’re about the same age I am. When you were a kid, it was the blossoming of LA hip-hop. Like, you lived in the heart of that. Like, when you were a kid was when it started. When you were a teenager was when it blossomed.

terrace

Mm-hm. I came up at a time when it was only me. [Laughs.] It was… it wasn’t—I didn’t have any peers in LA doing what I was doing. So, sometime it looked strange, when I had a horn or something like that. So, I had to put it up a little bit. I had to make the horn, ‘cause I was around environments that would see a saxophone and automatically think—well, what would they think? What would they think? What’s the word we keep flying—jazz, right? [Jesse agrees.] You know. So—

jesse

Or maybe even “corny”.

terrace

Or maybe even corny! Yes! I gotta take him on the road and just do these all over the road. Maybe even corny! So, the horn—in hip-hop, at a time when I was coming up—it just wouldn’t look cool. And looking cool is how you stayed around. Looking cool. Who had the most beautiful woman? Who had the new Jordans? Who had on the Issey Miyake cologne? Or Curve, for all my players out there. The saxophone thing was accepted more in the Leimert Park area, ‘cause that was the jazz area of LA. And it was a few cats that dug it, but when I went to go—you know, ‘cause—I mean, I got my name around LA for carrying around a drum machine before it was internet. It was like a jam session. Like, you had to carry around a drum machine and go to somebody’s neighborhood that had a studio and do beats in front of everybody on the spot and let them know Terrace Martin ain’t [censored] around, from the West Side, with my drum sounds that Battlecat gave me. And I sampled all my old DJ Quik drum sounds. I’m coming to your neighborhood, Blood, Crip, Ese, whatever. I’m banging out this beat and imma build my reputation around LA.

jesse

What kind of drum machine were you traveling with?

terrace

What? A MPC 3000! What? With fully blown memory and internal zip drive by Bruce Forat. You know what I’m saying? [Jesse confirms.] If anything cracked off with the horn and where I was trying to go get my rep on for my music, I wasn’t gang banging. I didn’t grow up doing music in the [censored] conservatory. I didn’t grow up—all my friends didn’t do music. All my friends gang banged. So, my thing was making near moves, so I couldn’t have my horn with me because we may have to run.

jesse

More of my conversation with Terrace Martin after a quick break. Coming up: it turns out that Terrace googled our show before he agreed to come on it and I guess he liked what he found? I mean, he came. It’s Bullseye, from MaximumFun.org and NPR.

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[Radio interference followed by laidback music with a snare drum beat. A phone rings as the DJ speaks.] Radio DJ: Welcome back to Fireside Chat on KMAX. With me in-studio to take your calls is the dopest duo on the West Coast, Oliver Wang and Morgan Rhodes. [Click.] Go ahead, caller. Caller: Hey. Uh, I’m looking for a music podcast that’s insightful and thoughtful, but like, also helps me discover artists and albums that I’ve never heard of. Morgan Rhodes: Yeah, man. Sounds like you need to listen to Heat Rocks. Every week, myself—and I’m Morgan Rhodes—and my co-host here, Oliver Wang, talk to influential guests about a canonical album that has changed their lives. Oliver Wang: Guests like Moby, Open Mike Eagle, talk about albums by Prince, Joni Mitchell, and so much more. Caller: Yooo! What’s that show called again? Morgan: Heat Rocks. Deep dives into hot records. Oliver: Every Thursday on Maximum Fun. [Music suddenly gives way to static and a dial tone.]

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Music: Relaxed, quiet music. Speaker: Are you ready to take your career to the next level? Well, Life Kit’s here to be your career counselor. All this week, we’ll have episodes to help you plan your next career move. We’ll give our best tips for asking for a raise, finding a mentor, switching careers, and much more. Listen now to the Life Kit podcast from NPR. [Music fades out.]

jesse

It’s Bullseye, I’m Jesse Thorn. My guest is Terrace Martin. He and I spoke in 2017. Martin is a producer, a saxophone player, a rapper, and a composer. He’s collaborated with Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg, Stevie Wonder, and many others. The last six months or so have seen Terrace release a torrent of music, including a solo EP this past December and a collaborative record with Robert Glasper and Kamasi Washington, called Dinner Party. Here’s a song from that album. This one’s called “Freeze Tag” and it features Chicago producer, Pheolix, behind the mic.

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“Freeze Tag” from the album Dinner Party by Kamasi Washington, Robert Glasper, 9th Wonder, and Terrace Martin. They told me put my hands up behind my head I think they got the wrong one I'm sick and tired of running I been searching where the love went I been looking for the dove Then they told me if I move they gon' shoot me dead [Music fades out.]

jesse

I wanna play a record that you produced—I guess, now, last year, for YG. It was a big single from his last record called “Twist My Fingaz”. [Music fades in.]

terrace

Cool.

music

“Twist my Fingaz” from the album Still Brazy by YG. You should’ve seen how a [censored] pulled up in the ride In the ride, in the ride Got two mother— wanna fight me outside Fight me outside, fight me outside You should’ve seen how a [censored] pulled up in the ride In the ride, in the ride Got two mother— wanna fight me outside Fight me outside, fight me outside I just do my dance and cuff my pants And twist my fingers with my hands I just do my dance and cuff my pants And twist my fingers with my hands I just do my dance and cuff my pants And twist my fingers with my hands I just do my dance and cuff my pants And twist my fingers with my hands [Volume decreases and continues under the dialogue then fades out.]

jesse

I’ll tell you what, Terrace—that rattles the door panels in my car.

terrace

Well, thank you. Thank you. [They chuckle.]

jesse

That’s a heavy record! [Terrace agrees several times as Jesse continues.] I mean, that has—that feels like it could’ve been produced by Battlecat. That’s that same, heavy, electronic funk sound. Well, I mean, I think that in the last couple of years, you’ve spent a lot of your time working with two of LA’s greatest rappers. You’re—you’ve worked a bunch with Kendrick Lamar. You’re frankly one of the greatest rappers of all time, but a guy who is—you know, what we used to call super-lyrical, right? And YG, who is the plainest rapper. I mean, I’ve been listening to YG’s record over and over and over and over. I really love it. And one of the things that’s amazing about it is how plain and simple his lyrics are and how powerful they are from that simplicity. You know, not simplicity as a put-down. You know, relative to—not because he’s incapable of complexity, but because he is choosing a kind of clear, defined power. And you’re talking about Kendrick, who made—you know—To Pimp a Butterfly, which you worked on extensively, one of the most sort of dense and complex hip-hop records of the—successful hip-hop records since Public Enemy, aesthetically. Like, a really inter—you know, a richly intertwined record. A record where there’s so many sounds and so many things going on. And those are—those are such distant poles, but they come together specifically in what I hear from you, in Los Angeles. That, like, this isn’t—both of these are an LA thing. Like, these are about this place and people from this place.

terrace

Mm-hm. If you think about history in LA, most artists—the real bad mother[censored] come from Watts and Compton. You know. From Charles Mingus to Eric Dolphy and on, you know, to—

jesse

Charles Wright.

terrace

Yeah, Charles—I mean, you know, it goes on and goes on. So, Compton’s one of the last places in LA where a lot of people over there leave their doors open. Still. Now, the news’ll tell you some other [censored], and it goes down, but Compton’s one of the only places I’ve been that I felt more safer, you know—my dear, dear friend Chachi—Problem—he’s from—he’s from an area in Compton, the west side of Compton by a high school, by Centennial High, where him and Kendrick went to school together and everything. So, he’s from a area of Compton that maybe on the news and everything is crazy and there has been some—a lot of crazy [censored] where he’s from, but every time I went over there, it was so much love. Even with the most aggressive guys living across the street that you may have heard about doing the craziest dirt, everybody’s doors is open and they was walking back and forth in each other’s homes, feeding each other and talking to each other. No matter where you was from, if you came in the Problem house on that block, you were warmed and welcome. We come from a different side. We come from the Crenshaw District. Me, my friend Big D, we all spent time at Problem’s house. So, it’s a warm thing in Compton. Fast forward that—me knowing the history, me always having a place in my heart for the city of Compton, when at a time—when the opportunity presented itself for me to even start working with Kendrick at such a young age, before anything, it was my duty to work for a Compton artist. I have to! You know. So, working with Kendrick from that angle, I understand Kendrick’s angle. Why? ‘Cause I love jazz. Another thing, I know the history of Compton. Some of the most intelligent children come out of Compton, California. All my friends graduated. Even the ruthless ones graduated. You know. Smart people. Two-parent households. Everything, just dealt with a different circumstance and a different hand in life at a different time and had to make different choices. But intelligence, integrity, family values is Compton, California.

jesse

You’re listening to Bullseye. I’m Jesse Thorn. I’m talking with Terrace Martin. He’s a musician and producer. He’s got credits on a bunch of hip-hop and jazz records, including Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly. I wanna play a song from To Pimp a Butterfly that I love—another one that definitely rattles the station wagon. And it’s one that you worked on, called “King Kunta”. [Music fades in.]

terrace

Oh, word.

music

“King Kunta” from the album To Pimp a Butterfly by Kendrick Lamar. I got a bone to pick I don't want you monkey mouth [censored] sitting in my throne again (Aye, aye, yo, what’s happening, K Dot back in the hood) I'm mad (He mad), but I ain't stressing True friends, one question Where—where were you when I was walking? Now I run the game got the whole world talking, King Kunta Everybody wanna cut the legs off him, Kunta Black man taking no losses Where—where were you when I was walking? Now I run the game, got the whole world talking, King Kunta Everybody wanna cut the legs off him When you got the yams (What’s the yams?) [Volume decreases and continues under the dialogue, then fades out.]

terrace

Thundercat is playing bass on that, how Battlecat and DJ Quik would play bass on the keyboard. That’s LA—the musician is copying the producer. [Laughs.]

jesse

You have a new group called The Pollyseeds. [Terrace confirms several times as Jesse continues.] They are—you know, the core elements of this group are some of the best jazz musicians you know. It’s not a straight jazz record. What did you wanna make? Why did you wanna make this? ‘Cause you—you know, you came out with a solo record a year and a half ago, two years ago. What’s different about this?

terrace

The difference with this record is A) It’s not a Terrace Martin solo record, it’s a collective record of a group of artists together that had the individual look and the individual—when I mean “look”, I should say individual outlook. They all look at life different. And the individual sound that I could recognize without saying, “You sound like this person or that person.” And put a group together of bad mother[censored] and put them in a studio and cut a mic on and have some good alkaline water, some great medical cannabis, ‘cause my back hurts, and good vibes and good people. And I wanted to assemble something that not only represented great music, but also represents the world—which is just really—people say it. I can’t say it enough, but peace is a big thing. Peace is a big thing for all over the world and for neighborhoods around the world as well. Especially in places like Chicago. So, I wanted to do a project with these kind of people that understood struggle and also understood that we have to try to put a Band-Aid on this thing, on this thing called hate. On this thing called—you know, stress. Only way to do that is to make people dance and just forget about that moment. You know? And I assembled the right team of musicians and producers. Trevor Lawrence, Brandon Eugene Owens, Robert Searight? Robert Glasper. You know. Me, myself. And the vocalists and the writers on it are really what stand out to me. Like, you have Rose Gold, from Baltimore. She’s also on Velvet Portraits. She travels with me and writes amazing. You have Wyann Vaughn, which is my writing partner since my career started, which is—her mother’s Wanda Vaughn of The Emotions. Her father’s Wayne Vaughn who wrote “Let’s Groove” and all these great songs. And she’s a teacher, teach kids, so she has a different mindset than when she writes. And then you have Chachi. Chachi—which is—which is a artist also goes by the name of Problem. Chachi over here is showcasing his songwriting, vocal production, and everything else. And we have a new song called “Intentions” out that we just shot the short film for. I’m excited for everybody to see it.

jesse

It seems like you’re very deeply invested in this musical community in LA. Like, that’s the thing that—you know, when you hear about somebody coming out of LA, you always hear, “Oh, you know, and they’ve been working with Terrace Martin and they’re part of that whole Terrace Martin thing.” That you’re—you’ve gotten to the point in your career where you can be a leader and tying these people together whether they’re coming from jazz or hip-hop or R&B or anywhere else.

terrace

Yes. That’s the goal! And doing interviews like this is really, like—and I’m not—I don’t give a [censored] about tooting nobody’s horn, this is how I feel about this interview right here particularly—I did my research and these interviews really, man—I don’t—I don’t do a lot of these, ‘cause I don’t want a lot of these out, ‘cause these are time where I could really be—usually when I get called by something like this, I know that the person about to interview me—let me look them up, ‘cause I know they’re on some [censored]. This ain’t no bull[censored]. They’re gonna ask the real question—they’re gonna know what color drawers my mama got on. Let me—let me get my [censored] right. These interviews help me get my message to everybody, because in the hood we know what’s up in the hood. These interviews help me and my community gain allies for help—for help, whether it be schools that need instruments or people that just need a word or—I just wanna bring awareness to different things. That’s why I only do a few things. And these are—every time I do these things, they stretch to somebody that I need it to stretch to. You know? Thank you, man. I—you know, I love doing these. And everybody else, we love everybody else, but the word is this: if you see a musician on the street playing a instrument, if you don’t have nothing to give him, just tell him thank you. Thank you goes a long way. If there’s a live show in your city, just go see the live musicians. If there’s any good record that you wanna sing and that you wanna go and that you wanna feel good about, sing that mother[censored]. I asked YG—I said, “Man, you be going haaard!” When I first started working with him. He said, “T, I go hard because people get up, going to work every morning can’t go hard. They can’t say [censored] about [censored] [censored], my mother[censored] boss! I hate my boss! My boss does [censored]. My [censored]. [Censored] his wife. [Censored] everything about my mother[censored] boss.” They can’t say that. YG can. You could drive, get it out, and go in your job and feed your mother[censored] family. That’s a real artist. A real artist’s job is to be the voice that somebody can’t be in my world. So, anybody supporting that, I’m with. And thank you again for your time.

jesse

Terrace Martin, thank you so much for coming on the show. I really appreciate it.

terrace

Man, thank you so much. I appreciate it, too.

jesse

Terrace Martin from 2017. Let’s go out on one more song from him—a track from The Pollyseeds album Sounds of Crenshaw, Vol. 1. [Music fades in.] This is “Intention”.

music

“Intention” from the album Sounds of Crenshaw, Vol. 1 by The Pollyseeds. … for that diamond ring But you might be though, you might be though Ohh, ohh, I'm saying But you might be though, you might be though Ohh, ohh How many men have you turned down tonight? It's so crazy you still shining… [Volume decreases and continues under the dialogue.]

jesse

That’s the end of another episode of Bullseye. Bullseye is created from the homes of me and the staff of Maximum Fun, in and around greater Los Angeles, California. I have had to segregate my dogs. One of them was bothering the other one too much, so now I have an upstairs dog and a downstairs dog. Our show is produced by speaking into microphones. Our producer is Kevin Ferguson. Jesus Ambrosio and Jordan Kauwling are our associate producers. We get help from Casey O’Brien. Out interstitial music is by Dan Wally, also known as DJW. Our theme song is by The Go! Team. Thanks to them and their label, Memphis Industries, for sharing it. You can also keep up with the show on Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube. We post all our interviews there. And I think that’s about it. Just remember: all great radio hosts have a signature signoff.

promo

Speaker: Bullseye with Jesse Thorn is a production of MaximumFun.org and is distributed by NPR. [Music fades out.]

About the show

Bullseye is a celebration of the best of arts and culture in public radio form. Host Jesse Thorn sifts the wheat from the chaff to bring you in-depth interviews with the most revered and revolutionary minds in our culture.

Bullseye has been featured in Time, The New York Times, GQ and McSweeney’s, which called it “the kind of show people listen to in a more perfect world.” Since April 2013, the show has been distributed by NPR.

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