About eight years ago, Jack Harlow trolled the fuck out of me. Or, at least, it felt like he did. Visiting XXL’s midtown Manhattan office for a video freestyle, pre-glow-up Jack — glasses, unwieldy curly hair and all — sat down in our video room with his publicist for a listening session. The point was obviously for him to play me his music so I could get a sense of where he was headed artistically. So then, I was a little … bewildered when he began playing Frank Ocean instead. After I told him the deal, he politely switched to his own tunes and the visit resumed as it was supposed to. Since then, his career’s played out the same way. Harlow’s always been unsure what to present us.
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