In conversation with Elephante, acclaimed DJ, musician, singer, and songwriter

Photo: Alex Lopes

All too often, the world puts people in boxes, dictating what they can and cannot do in life based on appearance, race, and socioeconomic status. Because of the persistent model minority myth, Asian Americans are still expected to be doctors, lawyers, consultants, and anything else that might require a masters or doctorate degree. If you deviate, by some standards, you’re deemed a bad or unsuccessful Asian. Should we dare to dream differently? Can we aspire to be musicians, actors, entertainers, or anything that’s not prescribed under the model minority myth? Will America allow us to occupy those spaces? It’s certainly not encouraged; often, not by our immigrant families and certainly not by American society at large.

That’s why I was thrilled to interview Elephante (born Tim Wu), an acclaimed DJ, musician, singer, and songwriter. Elephante is the son of immigrants from Taiwan, and he dutifully went down the path of obtaining an Ivy League degree before working in management consulting. After a year of doing what he thought he was supposed to be doing, he pivoted his career to music and saw one of his EPs shoot to #1 on the iTunes U.S. Dance chart. Throughout Elephante’s young but successful career as a musician, he has headlined two sold-out national tours, played nightlife residencies including those at Hard Rock and Wynn Las Vegas, and appeared at major music festivals such as Lollapalooza, EDC Las Vegas, and Electric Zoo. Elephante has remixed songs for the likes of Ed Sheeran, Katy Perry, Calvin Harris, Selena Gomez, Lorde, Justin Bieber, and many others.

Speaking to me from his hotel room while mid-tour promoting his newest album, Heavy Glow, we discuss his career, family, identity, representation, and much more.

These are edited excerpts from our conversation.

Tell me about your childhood.

I was born and raised in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Both of my parents are immigrants from Taiwan and moved here in the ‘70s, and both went to school at the University of Michigan. I had a pretty stereotypical Asian American upbringing. My first language was Mandarin, and I didn’t learn English until pre-school. The Asian community in Ann Arbor was mostly first-generation. I was classically trained in piano and I played tennis. In middle school, I started to write songs and taught myself guitar. I fell in love with the creative process. 

What was your pathway to your professional music career? 

I was lucky enough to get into Harvard. While I was there, the music thing was always the thing that I would do when I didn’t have anything else to do. I interned at a recording studio, and I was dragging my friends out to shitty open mics. I harbored a secret dream of being a rockstar and doing it for a living. But there was this mental block that came from this idea that there’s no one who looks like me doing what I wanted to do. There were no role models. When I was growing up, the only entertainers were Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, and John Cho from Harold & Kumar. So you’re either a kung fu martial artist or a clown. I think subconsciously, I internalized this idea that music isn’t really what we do. On top of the traditional expectations that you go to school, you get a degree, and you become a doctor or lawyer. 

At Harvard, during my senior year, I got a job in consulting in L.A. I felt like this is what you do, this is it, this is what you do with your life. I took the job and moved to L.A. I hated it, I absolutely despised it. Every day I would wrestle with myself because deep down I knew this wasn’t it. I got to a point where I could see myself in 10-15-20 years down the line and I didn’t like that person I was becoming. That’s not what I wanted with my life. The whole time, I was making music on the side. I was a pretty shitty employee… calling in sick, leaving work early. I always had this thing inside me where I wanted to make music but that would butt against the conditioning that we have. Eventually, after a year, I was just like, you know what, I’m never gonna forgive myself if I don’t give this music thing a try. So I quit. I was far more optimistic about my chances of making it as a musician than I should have been. I really think that in creative fields you need that sense of insane, naive optimism where you have this irrational belief that you can somehow make it. That you have something worth saying and you can make a living doing it. 

How did your parents react when you told them you quit your job to become a professional musician? 

My mom is extremely supportive and very liberal. She was more just worried for me and she didn’t really understand what a life in music would be like, let alone life being a DJ. But she knew how unhappy I was. She was mostly worried and would say, “You can do this thing, just don’t get addicted to drugs.”

With my dad, it was different. He’s much more traditional, and he’s been pushing me to be a doctor since I was out of the womb. 

My mom actually said, “You should do this thing but just don’t tell your dad yet.”

So I didn’t tell him for a few years. I told him the music thing was a weekend thing for a while. Finally, he came out to a show and saw what I did, and saw the crowd. He was like, “Oh this is actually a thing. This isn’t a hobby, you’re actually a professional. So, you’re not working at McKinsey anymore?” 

My dad is totally supportive now and is very proud of me. 

Have you had conversations with your parents about their immigrant experience?

Yeah, I have. I was very resentful toward my dad and his attitude, and the pressures he put on me when I was younger. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate how hard it was for them coming here, knowing limited English, having no money, not having a community. I think we finally saw eye to eye when we talked about his own version of what I did. He came here as an engineer and he quit his job at Ford to start his own automotive parts company. I was basically like, “Look dad, I know you’re worried about what I’m doing but you kind of did the same thing. You threw away a stable life to go for something you wanted to build for yourself, something you were excited about.”  

He said, “The reason I push you to be a doctor or have a normal life is because I didn’t want you to go through what I had to go through because it was so hard. I didn’t want that for my kids.” 

As I’ve grown and come to terms with my identity as an Asian American, we’ve definitely bonded more. 

My mom’s brothers live back in Taiwan and always make fun of her for being American. She’s now lived here longer than she lived in Taiwan. I think the cultural differences are pretty stark. It illuminated for me what a broad spectrum of experiences there are. Often, we’re just labeled as Asian but there are so many different subtleties. For example, my mom grew up in Taiwan and identifies as Chinese from Taiwan but she’s also an American now. Versus someone like me who grew up here and is ethnically Chinese or Taiwanese and is purely culturally American. I have friends whose parents told them not to learn Chinese at all because they wanted them to fully assimilate. There’s such a broad spectrum of identity that is lost in broad popular discourse. 

Photo: Alex Lopes

Was there a tipping point for you where you started to embrace your Asian identity more?

Yeah, it happened during the pandemic. Early on in my life, I had a lot of self-loathing about being Asian. If I were to psychoanalyze myself, I would guess that it came from my want to be a musician but in my head, that wasn’t something Asian people did. It was like I couldn’t do what I wanted to do because I was born the wrong race. I would oftentimes try to distance myself, I refused to speak Chinese, I stopped going to Chinese school. When I started my career as a musician, there was still this idea that we aren’t entertainers, we can’t be stars, we’re not charismatic. 

Early on in my career, I would often play shows and a fan would come up to me and say, “I loved the show but I didn’t know you were Asian.” There’s this cognitive dissonance between people seeing me on stage and accepting that I’m also Asian. 

Through that process of embracing who I was creatively, combined with everything that was going on socially during the pandemic, I’ve started to gain an acceptance of my ethnicity and my racial identity. As I was reflecting, I’ve always had Asian fans who’ve come up to me and said things like, “Thank you for what you’re doing for us and the culture.” One of the hurdles I had to overcome is the idea that I somehow had to carry a flag and be representative which I always felt uncomfortable with because there’s such a broad spectrum of Asian experiences. 

I just want to be a new example. The metaphor I think about a lot is the “four minute mile.” Scientists thought it was biologically impossible for a human to run a mile in less than four minutes. So it was commonly thought that it couldn’t be done. Then, Roger Bannister broke the record and did it in 3:59. Within a couple of years of that happening, dozens of people started breaking four minutes. Once that barrier and mental block had been broken, then all of a sudden people started doing it. If I can be the one who shows that you can be Asian and also be a creative and a musician and you can do this… for all the twelve-year-olds who were like me, who are like “this is something I like doing but I don’t see anyone doing it”… by seeing me and knowing that it’s possible, I think the next generation of Asian creatives is going to be fucking insane. And not just from my example but through Squid Game, Minari, Shang-Chi… kids are going to be like “holy shit, I want to do that.” There’s gonna be no limits to what they think they can do. I’m really excited to see what they come up with. I think there’s going to be a huge boom in Asian creatives. 

Has your Asian American experience come through in your music and artistry at all? 

Yeah, from a sonic perspective, I’m classically trained in piano which informs a lot of the music I make. The songwriting is where it really comes out. In a way, my entire album is about my experience through the pandemic and by extension, it’s an Asian American experience of what it was like. For example, my song “Running” starts with this line, “we’re running through the nighttime, trying to beat these yellow lights.” To me it was this idea of trying to outrun this chain of being Asian, trying to be something more than what people see. 

What would you tell someone who is stuck in a corporate job they hate? 

There is a world outside of the standard path. It’s really hard, it’s going to be harder than just having your job. But if you’re really unhappy and you have something that you’re passionate about, you will find a way to make it work. You don’t need to let the fear of what you’re supposed to do stop you. 

How’s the tour going?

I’ve never taken shows for granted but now there’s even more of an emphasized gratitude that I get to do this and I get to creatively push myself and do new things on stage. Hearing the fans know the new album is the most magical feeling. I wrote the album in complete isolation and to hear people react and to know the songs, that’s why I do it. The performance aspect is so important to me and to have that close reaction is so much more powerful than something streaming. 

What’s your favorite song on the album? 

It’s hard for me to pick favorites. I always say that my songs are like kids, I love them all. Some were motherfuckers to make, and I couldn’t wait to get them out of the house. Some were totally sweet and well-behaved. They all have their own special meaning to me. I would say Dopamine is my favorite to play live. I really like the energy in that song. I’m also really proud of what I did on High Water. That was the first song I finished on the album that made me feel there was something unique that hasn’t been done before. 

Elephante performing on tour with SABAI.

Tell me about your new song with SABAI called, Love Again.

SABAI is a super talented artist and it’s a great song… I’m really excited for everyone to hear it. SABAI is one of the four up-and-coming Asian artists opening for me on the tour. A little while ago, I went through a catastrophic breakup, and spent years picking up the pieces. This song is about recovering from that broken heart, and all the trauma that came with it. It’s about climbing out of the darkness, and learning to open yourself up to love and joy and hope, in spite of the fear of getting hurt again.

One thing that I’ve realized about myself on this tour is that I’m enjoying playing a mentor role and putting on young artists. I want to give young artists what I didn’t have coming up; I didn’t have a lot of older, more established artists putting me on. Whatever I can do to give back, support, and prove out the next generation of artists is something I’m really excited about.  

Okay, last but serious question. Do you have a stylist? I really like your style.

Thank you! That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in this interview (laughing). No, I don’t have a stylist, it’s all me. I choose all of my clothes. All of these DJs and no one has any fucking style. All of them dress the same. It’s either all black or whatever’s off the rack at Balenciaga. Do better. What’s the point of being a DJ if you can’t wear weird shit?

Wei Tsay

Founder & Editor

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