The fact that Grammy nominated rapper Jack Harlow officially joined the New Balance family of brand ambassadors and athletes the day before his new single might seem like a cheap trick. But it’s real.
Jack’s natural affinity for New Balance growing up as well as his fearless pursuit of his dreams to break into the music industry align well with the brands fearlessly independent spirit.
“I have been rocking New Balance since I was a kid, so to officially join the brand in this way is really exciting,” says Jack. “I’ve always loved the 990 and recently the Joe Fresh Goods 993 and collabs with the 550’s have been fire. I’m excited to peek behind the curtain and work with the brand more.”
Jack’s work with New Balance will include appearances in key marketing campaigns and playing an integral role in the brand’s connection to hoops culture. At tonight’s Ruffles NBA All-Star Celebrity Game, Jack will represent the brand by debuting a new basketball shoe. In addition, Jack can be seen wearing several of his favorite New Balance styles in the music video for his highly anticipated new single “Nail Tech,” which is out everywhere Friday.”
“Jack is a rising star and an authentic fan of New Balance, we could not ask for a more ideal ambassador to represent our brand. We are consistently impressed with Jack’s devoted passion for his craft and his relentless desire to improve”, says Chris Davis, New Balance Chief Marketing Officer and SVP of Merchandising. “He is simply an individual who is not afraid to innovate, a value that is mirrored in our brand identity. We look forward to collaborating with Jack to transcend the world of fashion and sport, just as he has done in music and culture.”
New Balance works with a range of strong, authentic brand ambassadors that are not afraid to take risks, be proactive and create success on their own terms. The newness and creativity that Jack embodies makes him a perfect fit to join the likes of Jaden Smith, Storm Reid, Selena Samuela, Kawhi Leonard, Sydney McLaughlin, Coco Gauff and more on Team New Balance.
The 23 year-old native of Louisville, Kentucky produced most of Lil’ Nas X’s multiplatinum 2021 Montero album. So even if you haven’t heard of him… you’ve heard him.
VOX was a little harsher on our boy: “Every so often, the music industry spits out a young, fresh-faced white rapper who manages to land a top spot on the Billboard 100 — by virtue of their lyricism, musicality, charisma, or perhaps more commonly today, internet fame. They could be a flash-in-the-pan Soundcloud or TikTok artist, who either evolves into an industry mainstay or falls off the charts. Harlow, whether you like his music or not, seems to be the latest iteration of that figure, judging by his growing shelf of accolades.”
Since 2020, his breakout year, Harlow landed a No. 2 spot on the Billboard Hot 100 with “Whats Poppin,” a catchy viral single that popped off on TikTok, which anointed him as a new rapper to watch. Harlow’s debut album was not released until December, but he was already generating buzz as part of XXL Magazine’s “2020 Freshman Class,” a rap newcomer’s medal of recognition. Perhaps most crucially, the success of “Whats Poppin” secured him his first Grammy nomination, leading Pitchfork to call him “the white rapper of the moment” in a brief, albeit backhanded review of the hit. Harlow’s sound is heavily influenced by, even imitative, of veteran rappers like Drake; his music can be breezy, imbued with “feel-good energy,” wisecracking wordplay, and intermittent doses of introspection.
His feature on “Industry Baby” earned Harlow his second Grammy nod. Harlow said thecollaboration with Lil Nas X, the gay Gen Z rap superstar, went against advice from some people close to him. (“I had people in my corner that didn’t recommend I do that song, that don’t want to watch that video,” he told GQ.)
But the song became his first No. 1 hit. Magazine profiles and media accolades might carry diminishing weight in the age of social media, but they still are institutional benchmarks of an industry’s rising star. Last year, Harlow was named Variety’s Hitmaker of the Year and one of Forbes’s 30 under 30 music honorees, after gracing the covers of GQ, Spin, and Complex.
It’s not just Harlow’s music that’s capturing public attention. Much of his relevance, like that of most celebrities’, is predicated on appearance. His well-calibrated combination of humility and swagger has helped draw intrigue in a predominately Black genre. It’s an eye-roll-worthy observation: Here’s another white boy in the rap game, who is charming and disarming enough to benefit from the cult of modern celebrity. But in 2021, during a time when the public is hyper-attuned to acts of cultural appropriation and performative allyship, Harlow’s mainstream popularity suggests that he may be doing something right, even while his appeal remains up for debate.
Two decades ago, the white man was rap’s persona non grata. White MCs have been around since the genre’s genesis, but few are remembered fondly and even fewer are considered masters of the craft.
But the 2000s saw the rise of Eminem, the inimitable white emcee who sought to earn the begrudging respect of Black listeners and artists. Meanwhile, as white listeners grew more receptive to rap, the 2010s spawned a saturated ecosystem of white rappers — the likes of Macklemore, G-Eazy, Machine Gun Kelly, Mac Miller, and Post Malone — with a variety of sounds and styles. The term “white rapper” has begun to feel like a reductive and lazy form of classification to hip-hop heads, but it remains, at least to the wider public, the clearest visual distinction. An artist may try to deny the role of racial identity in their music and fame, but it matters — to listeners and critics, and certainly within the context of American music’s blatantly appropriative history.
Nicki Minaj wasn’t wrong to remark that it was “a great time to be a white rapper in America.”
Her observation, made in 2017, still holds true years later. One could even argue that too many non-Black artists have capitalized on rap’s diversifying turf, given its tradition as a Black art form.
This already crowded field, then, might seem unfavorable for any white rapper to debut in. They have to withstand comparison and criticism while navigating the racial privilege and personal politics of the genre. But sooner or later, a new white guy stumbles his way into the rap spotlight.
“Once you become actually famous, it’s only half about the music,” Harlow told Variety. “They’re just showing up to see you in the flesh, put you on their Snap, throw some panties at you, whether they know a single lyric or not.”
That isn’t to say Harlow exists solely as a thirst object in the public imagination (more on that debate later). His newfound sex appeal (“I didn’t peak in high school, I’m still out here getting cuter”) has brought him more listeners. It has also invited trouble. Harlow is dogged by frequent dating rumors and became the subject of a false pregnancy claim made by a mysterious Canadian scammer last year. And it’s not just white women that he’s attracting to his shows; his fans include Black women and other women of color. Harlow has, to his credit, prominently featured Black and brown women in his musicvideos, promotional posters, and on his album cover, although they’re usually positioned as arm candy or sex symbols (such is often the nature of rap).
As a result, Harlow has become a lightly contentious subject on Black Twitter, with people either applauding or bemoaning his popularity and overall appeal. One viral tweet encapsulated the discourse: “Jack Harlow was an experiment planted by the government to test the Black community.”
Jack Harlow was an experiment planted by the government to test the black community
While it’s all fun and games to lament over his supposed “hold on Black women,” these tweets reflect a complicated sentiment. His emergence as a mainstream white rapper during a culturally fraught time shows the strength of Harlow’s charisma, even though some listeners aren’t entirely sold on his music. He has managed to jockey his way into high-profile collaborations with Lil Wayne and Eminem, sell out tours nationwide, and secure deals with established brands like New Balance and KFC.
It’s worth mentioning that Harlow doesn’t seem to have a problem in also working with — and, at times, defending — rappers with an unsavory history. He opted to feature Chris Brown, who has a troubling record of domestic abuse claims against him, on a track instead of R&B singer Tinashe, and kept Tory Lanez on his “Whats Poppin” remix after rapper Megan Thee Stallion alleged that Lanez shot her last July. “I don’t have no room to judge anybody,” Harlow said in December, when asked about taking Lanez off the track. “I wasn’t there when this and that happened. I don’t know anything.”
Harlow is cautious about centering whiteness at the core of his music. Sure, there are mentions in a few lyrics here and there (“I brought a gang to the party with me / five white boys but they not NSYNC”), but he seems to gravitate toward more universal themes: love, growing up, dreams, money. Even in earlier interviews, the younger, scrappier Harlow mentions authenticity and the importance of rapping what one knows. What he knows is the South, his Louisville hometown, fame, and sex, to name a few things, and they all carry tinges of veritable whiteness.
“Jack’s songs don’t come across as a gimmick to me,” said J’na Jefferson, a freelance music and culture journalist. “When I think of gimmicks, I instantly think of Macklemore and his song ‘White Privilege.’ That, to me, doesn’t have to be the point of a song, and I already get it. Macklemore’s white. I just want the music to be good and for a white rapper to acknowledge their presence and privilege in a Black genre.”
People really didn’t know JACK HARLOW was white? The man said “just joshin” ???????????????? pic.twitter.com/qjnVuTkMnC
Still, some music critics and devoted hip-hop fans can’t seem to figure Harlow out, or they dismiss him altogether. Among critics, the common opinion seems to be that his music is solid but generic; he has a keen ear for hits and room to grow into a distinguishable artist. Harlow has the range to deliver an introspective track before reverting back to his familiar frat-boyish flows, but retains some of that childlike earnestness found in his earliest teenage work. Is that commendable or corny?
“He’s got this aura, this charm that doesn’t feel forced, and I think that is what’s making the girls swoon,” Jefferson added. But by virtue of his rising fame, Harlow is considered a “contested crush object,” to borrow a phrase from the writer Alexandra Molotkow, who publishes the newsletter “Crush Material.”
Harlow doesn’t have the princely glow of a TikTok e-boy, nor the chiseled look of a Hollywood leading man. Sure, he’s tall, with a halo of moisturized brown curls, but his facial features don’t seem all that striking. He looks like “a Shakespearian jester,” according to one Twitter user, and his unassuming appearance leaves his sex appeal up for debate.
To that end, Harlow has been grouped in with the likes of Pete Davidson and Adam Driver, as many people dissect — and fret over — their attractiveness: Are these white men hot, or are they just tall, skinny, and somewhat talented? What spell have they cast over a segment of the public? How do we stop them?
we need to formulate a plan to stop jack harlow from stealing all the bitches
In Molotkow’s analysis of Davidson’s appeal, she describes him as a “public boyfriend,” a “straight male muse” whose cultural value is derived from giving people something to talk about. Harlow, on the other hand, is a generative force. His newfound attractiveness and social relevance are largely contingent on his fame and musical success — although at a certain point, fans begin to conflate the two. Collective thirst can be a dangerous trap, blinding admirers to the fact that their “unproblematic fave” can do wrong.
Harlow’s charm is essential to his marketability as a white rapper, who is attempting to transgress racial boundaries with his music. He often mentions “unity” in his interviews; it’s a neat, public relations-friendly conclusion to the elephantine question of being a white man in rap.
“No matter how embraced I am, there will never be a day that I’m Black,” Harlow told Billboard. “With that being said, there’s a certain responsibility that comes with being a white man in a Black genre, and there are certain things that have me regarded differently.”
It’s a straightforward acknowledgment that seems to pacify fans, reflecting a potential shift in our expectations of white rappers.
Fans often say they are drawn to Harlow’s authenticity and his humble roots, but those aspects of his public persona are strategic. Harlow might be a “nice Kentucky boy,” but he is also a millionaire in control of his image, approaching fame with caution. In today’s fraught celebrity atmosphere, where artists have to reckon with cancel culture and public accountability, Harlow is practiced in efforts to protect his reputation, including requiring women to sign nondisclosure agreements before meeting privately.
Two favorable rookie years in the spotlight, however, are no guarantee of lasting success, and stan culture is always fickle. For now, at least, Jack Harlow can rest easy, knowing that he remains a leading contender for Twitter’s white boy of the year.
For now it’s all about tomorrow. Friday will see the release of Nail Tech.
…is authentic. There’s no legerdemain here. He grew up speaking hip/hop. He’s the chubby nerdy white boy that got a glow up and didn’t go incel and white supremacist but figured out to notonly get in the club but write/produce and execute it.
Jack Harlow has been hailed by The FADER as a “maverick rapper destined for legary status,” 23-year-old, Louisville, KY native Jack Harlow has quickly become one of music’s biggest stars with nearly 4.5 billion career streams to date. The Generation Now/Atlantic Records rapper has released a project a year, for the last 5 years, the most recent being his RIAA Platinum-Certified, critically acclaimed debut album THATS WHAT THEY ALL SAY. The album features the 6x-Platinum single “WHATS POPPIN,” which earned Harlow his first Grammy nomination, among countless other accolades including nominations at the 2021 Billboard Music Awards, 2021 BET Awards, 2020 MTV Video Music Awards, 2020 E! People’s Choice Awards & 2020 BET Hip Hop Awards.
Harlow has been widely featured in high profile publications ranging from Rolling Stone, Billboard and Complex to GQ, TIME, Interview and Forbes, graced the covers of XXL’s coveted Freshman Class issue, Variety, Forbes, Complex, SPIN and Footwear News and brought his captivating live show to the masses with national television performances on Saturday Night Live, The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel Live! and more.