To 12 million YouTube viewers, Tay Zonday is, “that guy on the internet with the weird, deep voice.” This is pretty much how he was introduced before his appearances on Jimmy Kimmel or Good Morning, America, too. Before “Chocolate Rain,” Tay Zonday was Adam Nyerere Bahner, a twenty-five-year-old American Studies doctoral student at the University of Minnesota. He hails from the northern suburbs of Chicago—his mom is a high school principal who didn’t let him listen to pop music. Now he’s a pop music phenomenon peculiar to the twenty-first century, and he just released “Chocolate Cherry Rain,” the sequel to “Chocolate Rain,” in collaboration with Dr. Pepper.
I read your interview with the Strib, and it sounds like you don’t understand the concept of selling out.
No, I don’t know what it means.
No?
I don’t know what people mean by that.
I think people mean exploiting your art for crass, commercial payoff.
No, I don’t think so. The subtext of that is that this somehow relates to social justice. That’s what’s behind that. The implication is there is a social justice politic, and somehow a piece of art undermines the social justice politic. And I don’t believe an image can cause social oppression. I don’t think it can be the origin of social injustice. And that’s been said many, many times. Ralph Ellison, in Shadow and Act, in the titular essay—he was writing in the 1940s about Hollywood—wrote about how Hollywood embodied these stereotypes of the Negro—the servant, the mammy, the jezebel, and whatnot. He was addressing this concern among black activists or liberals in the NAACP or really “white progressives” in the 1940s who were saying that stereotypical imagery in Hollywood causes racism. And some black and white leaders saying we have to get these stereotypes out of these movies. What Ralph Ellison was saying, echoing other black intellectuals like Zora Neal Hurston and his mentor, Richard Wright, was, “No, no, it’s not that simple. Hollywood is really the shadow, and society is the act.” It’s a fallacy that if there’s a stereotype in Hollywood, the people will go, “Gosh, that really does reflect what black people are like.” How can that stereotype be effective unless people are actually watching that, consuming that, in a life situation where they are not encountering other black people to begin with? And if you look at how that life situation comes about, well, they’re living in an isolated class situation, an isolated neighborhood. So it’s kind of like a kid here sitting in a cul-de-sac where they don’t really encounter a diverse community of people, and they’re sitting and watching a video on the Internet and saying, “Gosh, that’s what black people are.” That’s not a problem with the video, that’s a problem with the cul-de-sac.
Well, I’m a James Baldwin man. And he was a conspiracy theorist that argued that there are forces stronger than you that are out to destroy you.
Yeah, well, James Baldwin has this very masculinist, heterosexual way of doing that.
Sure, but what do you think he would say about selling corn-sweetened soda that gives black people diabetes? “Chocolate Rain” wasn’t about selling sucrose, was it?
So where do you see this impacting?
Well, I’m asking if you perverted your message for money.
Well, I don’t see “[Chocolate Cherry Rain]” as connected to “Chocolate Rain” whatsoever.
What?
No. I think that each artistic work is its own song, its own work. It happens in its own space. I think that in each work’s own context, each is a fantastic work of art. I think that one is a fantastic work of cinema, and it should be taken in the context of comedy or humor.
Don’t you think that humor is based on a self-reference?
No. None whatsoever. I don’t believe that they are connected. Because you know, the media is all about this need to create narrative or connect dots. It’s like subject, verb, object. And journalists all need a clear narrative. This happened, and then this happened. That’s not how life is. You have to look at each data point as its own thing. And kinda let things marinate. And not be so closed to say, “This causes this, and this is connected to this.”
Well, I don’t have the amount of space that Proust had.
Well, that’s what you asked of me. And that’s what you have to do for social justice and critical thinking. And I agree that the conventions of contemporary journalism are prohibitive in that regard, but that’s a whole other issue. And I’m coming from a place where I’m not constrained. I think that each work of art is its own work of it—something that can be taken relatively as an island. And I also think it’s very questionable sometimes in the media about how there seems to be such a rush to withdraw compassion from a subject.
To judge.
Yes, “you are this” or “you are that.”
Or like, “You sold out, Tay.” Or something.
It’s not even that. I’m speaking in the abstract. I’m never so conceited or self-interested to limit any example to myself. Because, ultimately, I’m not that concerned with what happens to me. But the critique of the media is I think there’s this need to create a demand for the product whether it’s a magazine or whatever else by naming this is bad, this is good. And if you look at journalism, there’s something called the objectivity precept. You have two sides to every story, and you never actually settle on any particular point of view.
That’s what I was doing when I asked if you consider yourself a sellout. I should’ve just accused you.
Right. And that mode of thinking doesn’t actually reflect critical thought. Its intention is to produce a product that is riveting, that’s kind of oozing with sound bytes and has some risk in it, some risk for the subject.
You got it. That’s a QA.
Well, yeah. I mean, people write whatever they write. I do these interviews with journalists, and I look at the articles and I’m like, “I didn’t actually say this.” And that’s The New York Times. I think there’s definitely a disconnect between what the subject says and what actually gets recorded. Because there’s the need to, you know, posture and form an opinion. And at the end, it’s always like this forecast, this dramatic, “maybe this will happen or maybe that will happen.” And it’s all about creating the commodity of journalism. And I think that is actually where the social justice politic lies, the discussion of, you know, “the sell out” or whatever. These are all media sound bytes—the need for the media to gossip. Whereas me, I’m just an artist. I’m like, “Hey, here’s a fantastic project. And here’s another fantastic project with a lot of collaborators.” And I think that’s great.
Let’s talk about the art. What percentage of your success do you attribute to the William Hung factor?
I don’t really follow William Hung. But the blunt question is, “Do I suck, and do people laugh at me because of it?” I don’t know. How does any artist know that? Why would any artist worry about that? Would you worry about that?
I get criticized for being a racist and a sexist.
But it doesn’t really affect what you do. As long as you know who you are, whatever. Ike Turner just died, and Lord knows he was called this, and this, and this. And stigmatized. Finally he got a little bit of credit towards the end of his life. But you know, he just kept doing what he did. What can you do? All this stuff about you floating around. Look at Paul Reubens. He was having fun in a theater, maybe a little too visibly. I mean, you have to be careful, but there isn’t that much at stake. So hypothesis: I suck, and people like it and laugh at me because they say, “My goodness, that sucks. That sucks so bad I’m going to e-mail it all over. God, you guys, you gotta look at this because it sucks so bad.” I get all sorts of feedback. Most of the feedback I get in personal messages is positive; most of the feedback I get in video comments is negative because I think that’s the nature of video comments. You don’t know—I’m not a sociologist. You look at the video ratings, and it’s rated four-and-a-half stars, but all the comments are full of as much vitriol as you can think of. I think that’s just the nature of the beast of the Internet. And it’s how all of us are, too. You get 15 products, and they work perfectly well, and you don’t think about them. But you buy a rice cooker, and it sucks, and you go to epinions.com, and you post a review. So you must feel motivated to post a review of something you have an issue with, and if you just kind of like it, you’re like, “Hey, I use it.”
I’m a fawner.
Hey, you are bringing a revolutionary politics to journalism. You’re refusing to make it a commodity. It’s all relatively complimentary. And you overcompensate for this in your interviews.
Here’s me overcompensating: Your parents clearly never let you listen to Prince. Do they regret that now?
I don’t know. I think they’re old, and they’re living their own lives. I think once you get into your sixties, you don’t really remember what you did with your kids fifteen years ago. I don’t think there’s any moment where you’re the same person that you were five years ago. So I mean, you can talk about all this stuff that happened in the past, but when you’re talking to everyone who’s involved, they’re such different people now that you can’t narrate that continuity. The media likes us to narrate. Criminologists like us to narrate. I think everyone changes. I change from week to week.
Have you been catching up since adolescence on pop music?
No, I still really don’t listen to a lot of music. I’m not one of those people running around with an iPod stuck on his head. I think I like to be aware of my surroundings, so I just don’t get on a bus listening to an iPod. But there really isn’t a consistent space in my life for listening to music. In fact, when I’m shopping, and I’m hearing the music playing, I’m like, “Man, that’s a great tune.” I almost want to reproduce that experience in my apartment. I want to get the top forty that plays in the Home Depot speakers and play that in my apartment. There’s something about that shopping music that has a good variety of nonsense.
So Tay Zonday was a self-constructed Google wack?
That’s an interesting noun. I haven’t heard of that before. Are you going to add that to urban dictionary?
Oh, that’s firmly established. Google it.
Well, sure, then I guess that’s what it is. I guess so. I don’t think I’ve met anybody that’s familiar with there being a term for that. But yes, it was a deliberate search for something that did not come up on Google. And I chose that name. Literally, I was putting “Ray Bonbay.” Doot de doot de doot de doo. “Tay Zonday.” There you go.
Didn’t Buckwheat say something like that?
You seem to have an affection for pop culture trivia.
Don’t you? Or do you just read Ralph Ellison all day? Do you watch television?
No, I don’t have a TV.
When your voice changed, were you embarrassed by it, I mean, more than the other puberty stuff?
I don’t know. I was seventeen or so.
Was it dramatic?
I don’t know. I was fairly reclusive at the time—I wasn’t getting out a whole lot. I don’t know if it was dramatic. It was what it was. It was me.
You were a seventeen-year-old recluse?
Most definitely.
Not a lot of friends?
No. I didn’t go out. Just doctor’s appointments and school. I sat on the Internet all day playing online video games for like 100 hours a week. Pro Skater 4.
Your parents let you play Pro Skater 4 for 100 hours, but you couldn’t listen to Prince?
No, I don’t think I even knew who Prince was. I think I might have been afraid of what my parents might think of me if I listened to Prince. I was living very much in a sheltered, pop culture vacuum. I didn’t talk a whole lot. I didn’t speak a whole lot in my house. I think a lot of people relate to me now, particularly people who are emotive or people-readers. You know, some people, you talk to them, and you can tell they’re used to reading people. And I don’t really give off any emotions. I think it drives people crazy because it’s kind of like there’s nothing there. And I think I learned to be very controlling and very reserved and not give any external signs of what I think or what I believe in the home context in which I grew up—because any indication that I gave, in one way or another, would instantly be pounced on, and assumptions about who I was or what I did or what I believed or what I was turning into would be made. I couldn’t just sit and watch TV and laugh because what I was laughing at would be an indication of how I was growing up. My parents were very neurotic in that regard.
You couldn’t laugh at the TV because you were afraid of what they would think about you?
Most definitely. There is a name for that: agoraphobia.
Now you feel the same way about the press?
No, I think those people encounter me, and they are a little bit freaked out. I really don’t give off any signals. I think that kind of relates to my stage presence, too, sometimes. I did this song, “Can’t Dance,” about not being loose or not being able to let go and positively being self-aware and self-conscious. And I think that’s very much the case. I’m very calculating.
You’re very calculating?
At least in my personal endeavors. In my personal conduct and what I do with my body. Making music, definitely not. Maybe that’s the contrast. Maybe that’s why I make music on YouTube. I just put it out there, and whatever happens with it, I don’t worry about it a whole lot. But definitely, personally, I’m very reserved, very particular, very calculating.
Why don’t you do more covers?
Because they’re illegal, and I would be sued.
You could work that out. Get a lawyer.
Well, yeah, you pay an attorney $400 an hour.
You can make a record and pay them for rights.
But you can’t post on YouTube though. I would love to post covers on YouTube. I would love to like read Stephen King. I would love to do all this copyrighted stuff. It’s just illegal. It kind of sucks. And some people get away with it. Some fantastic artists get away with it—Esmee Denters for one. But there’s also been people with lots more subscribers than me who have been suspended for doing copyrighted covers. So it’s a crapshoot at this point. And I really think the legal system is a shame. I would read Stephen King even if Stephen King got all the money for it. I would do it for fun. So it’s just one of those unfortunate things where hopefully you kind of put your head in the sand, and five years from now, it will be all sorted out. So you can actually do covers. But yeah, I did Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up." I did "Edelweiss." I’ve done them, and they’ve been popular videos that have been re-posted by other people, so I’m not legally liable. I almost feel like getting a ghost account, like getting my seven-year-old niece to post my covers.
Because your interpretive ability might be the most interesting thing about you. There’s no shame in that—Rod Stewart was the man.
Actually, I would be the first to say that. Because right now on YouTube, there are artists, songwriters, producers, videographers, vocalists. I don’t do all of those things well by any means. I think my greatest strength is as a vocalist, probably followed by, maybe, songwriting. Definitely not in videography, definitely not in production, definitely not in cherography. So if I teamed up with a professional choreographer, professional producers, professional videogrpahy, and probably even professional songwriting, because I think I'm hit-and-miss in that regard, too. I think that my vocals are my strongest point and the strongest thing I have going. But I think that the reality is, am I willing to make the sacrifices that would be necessary for me to do that? You know how the music industry works: $3 million in income and $3 million in debt—there’s all this money coming in, but I would’ve made more at McDonald’s. And if that’s what I need to do in order to get more talented production, more talented songwriting, more talented videography, then that’s not something I’m interested in doing. But there’s also the Dr. Pepper thing, which was very smart. I kept the rights to that; I think it was a great work from a production-value standpoint. You can talk about the ethics until you’re blue in the face. But I know a lot of artists for whom product sponsorship is much more appealing and much more ethical than the record deal at this day and age. So that’s always out there.
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