Cult of personality

Johnny Polygon wants to be your favorite artist

Johnny Polygon is a micro-manager. The emcee met my request for an interview by asking for this issue’s cover. He then asked to move this article back to promote an upcoming show of his; asked to postpone his photo shoot so he could “cop some freshness,” (not liking the results of this first rescheduled shoot, he asked for a do-over) and after his excellent interview was conducted (during which I asked all of ten questions over an hour and a half; he’s a verbose micro-manager) he requested a second chat. Ever the salesman, Polygon had more to say about his product. Since what he’s hauling door to door is Johnny Polygon, this vice grip on his image is simple business acumen.

A one-time collaborator with Nas and Kid Cudi, Polygon fired his label in 2010. The move has only proved beneficial.

“The music industry never chewed me up and spit me out,” Polygon said. “But I just didn’t like not being in control of my life.”

The label’s marketing, Polygon said, was a blind shotgun blast. They simply shot and hoped something hit. Now, Johnny is half a decade into his ultra-targeted approach.

“People don’t really buy music anymore, but they support their favorite musician,” he said. “So now the hunt and mission is to become people’s favorite fucking artist.”

For members of his “Johntourage,” Polygon may already be their favorite fucking artist. The group is a subscription-based VIP list, where fans fund Polygon’s records and tours while receiving special perks and updates. “The way you treat your fans; the people that give a shit about what you’re doing, that’s the most important part of the music world. Period.”

Receiving album funding directly from his fans (he’s known to say “my fans are my label,”) lends him a coveted artistic license. His content is influenced only by his vision, and albums are only released when he feels they’re ready. Those moving target release dates could be headaches for some, but Polygon makes sure to treat his “label” right. The march up to his latest album, I Love You, Goodnight, was fraught with missed deadlines. The patience of his Johntourage was rewarded though, when the unannounced Water Damage EP was released exclusively to them.

Eventually released this past October, I Love You, Goodnight was clearly made by a man who answers only to his fans. Fortunately, those fans just ask that Polygon be Polygon.

The album is a mix of up-tempo bangers (like the Robyn-esque synth pop in “Dead Meat” and the apocalyptic thump of “King of Ashes”) and melancholic head-nodders. Piano keys kerplunk slowly into pools of thought, their ripples distorting Polygon’s somber reflections. Those reflections are delivered through Polygon’s trademark half-sung, half-rapped cadence. Polygon said response to the 13 tracks has been “unbelievable.” For the most part, he’s enjoyed that response first hand.

Without label support for touring, Johnny has “been on some punk rock shit.” He spent 200 out of the last 365 days in his tour bus and spent the time offstage connecting with his fans. Polygon locates cities dense with Johntourage members, routes his tours around them, and personally calls members when he’s on the way.

He knocked quite a few things off his “musician bucket list” when he was with the major labels: A song on Grand Theft Auto IV, A video in MTV’s top ten, a tour with legendary emcee Nas. For Polygon, playing to 20,000 of Nas’s fans was nothing compared to having twenty of his own scream every lyric to his set. “I felt like I skipped a step,” he said of his quick jump to the MTV spotlight. “Like, people were gonna like it, but only because they were told to like it. … That shit’s cool, but it doesn’t compare to a kid driving eight hours on a broken foot to see me.”

In addition to that painful road-trip, Polygon once had a fan take a three-day bus ride to catch his show. “She ended up going a full day in the wrong direction, but was still thoughtful enough to stop and buy me a bottle of perm!” he said. He also had an expecting grandmother skip out of a hospital while her daughter was in labor to watch him perform. “[This is] the type of stuff that wasn’t happening when I was on MTV.”

This level of dedication was unimaginable for him when he first hit the road. Dealing with a lazy promoter on his first tour, he once played a show to only a bartender and her baby. “I saw that as a challenge,” he said. “If I can keep this tiny baby’s attention, I can keep the attention of every person in the front row on Instagram.” These experiences have humbled him, and made him appreciate his fans so much more.

Now, he’s giving fellow Oklahomans a taste of the humility that touring provides. “No one ever took me on tour, so I wanna do that,” he told me. This year he took Tulsa acts We Make Shapes and Verse (the only two guest artists featured on I Love You, Goodnight) on the road. In the past, he’s featured Stillwater’s Deerpeople as his backing band. His generosity is admirable, but he’s careful in who he selects to help. “I’ll open the door for someone with their hands full, but I’ll shut the door on someone with their hands out.”

When the January 2007 North American Ice Storm hit Tulsa, electricity was cut to large chunks of the city. “People had no power…they couldn’t even cook eggs!” he exclaimed. “But through snowstorms and sicknesses, they still came to a Johnny Polygon show.” That level of hometown love is one of the reasons Polygon keeps his Tulsa shows free. His upcoming show (for which he asked us to postpone this piece) will be a free blowout at Yeti on December 19 called “Chronikuh: A Johnny Polygon Christmas.” The show will revolve around not only the holidays, but also Polygon’s favorite plant.

With his calculated image and awareness of fan expectations, Polygon hopes to spend even more of next year on the road. Although he’s humble enough to give his all for just a baby in the audience, Polygon hasn’t lowered his rock-star ambitions.

“When I make it big, my riders are gonna be crazy,” he said. If you work for a certain level of success, he explained, you shouldn’t be ashamed to capitalize on it. “It’s like, you gotta go back to high school and fuck the chick you always wanted to,” he told me through his trademark laugh. Polygon let his chuckle subside and looked down at his drink for a moment, then shot back “…even if she did get fat!”

For more from Mitch, read his article and review of Earl Hazard's debut album, King of Tallulah.