Joey Valence & Brae Just Want You to Dance

“I have 23 cars, 18 mansions, and 800 wives,” Brae says. His running mate (and former member of Penn State’s storied EDM Club), Joey Valence, has been growing his Pokémon GameBoy collection, buying sealed Japanese-edition copies. This is how the duo have spent their blow-up money after landing on a major label without leaving Joey’s bedroom. While a chance meeting at a Red Lobster near State College, where the boys went knee-deep in an Admiral’s Feast, set them towards their destiny of becoming the greatest rap group of all time, PUNK TACTICS and NO HANDS were the studious, albeit cunt-serving pursuits that placed them somewhere in the cross-section of Korn and Lil Jon. Their all-caps ascent continues on HYPERYOUTH, a glow-up record about not wanting to grow up that cements them as not just the prankster playboys of their generation, but future festival headliners. (Coachella, honey, if you’re reading this: Make the call already.)

Allergic to filter and gloriously silly, Joey and Brae aren’t interested in upholding rap’s conventions. The genre’s history of being a boys club (and its frequent enabling of homophobia) simply isn’t in the duo’s vocabulary. That’s why you hear voices like Ayesha Erotica and Rebecca Black next to theirs, because accessibility and platforming marginalized artists, Joey says, is “the biggest part” of what they do, and that they use their music “as a home for anybody.” “The #1 thing we preach,” Brae elaborates, “is being yourself. No matter what niche you’re into, come as you are. What you have in common for that hour at a JVB show is that you fuck with our music, you love us, and everyone around you is a friend.” And Joey and Brae follow their own adage, and who they are is a reflection of the people coming to their shows—folks with an itch for Pokémon, anime, skateboarding, and car-collecting; dudes who just want to hear some Lady Gaga and do backflips off buildings.

Online, JVB’s reach feels even more all-encompassing. Brae recalls seeing their songs used in videos of “extreme sports, DIY, cooking, fashion, and straight-up street interviews.” Even this year, “PACKAPUNCH” showed up on the WWE 2K25 soundtrack, next to the likes of Amyl and the Sniffers, Jelly Roll, Knocked Loose, and BABYMETAL. Soon, they’ll have music in one of the Tony Hawk Pro Skater games. “One of the cooler parts of doing what we do is [having] our songs out in the world,” Brae adds. “We never thought that they would be in skate games. It’s insane, because those are the games I grew up playing. Now, our stupid faces pop up in the corner when the song shuffles. It’s so bizarre—like, what the fuck?”

For HYPERYOUTH, Joey and Brae knew they wanted to make music more honestly and not rest on an artillery of pop culture citations. To be clear, the references come aplenty, as the boys drop nods to Sydney Sweeney and Pitchfork (“BUST DOWN”), Xbox (“PARTY’S OVER”), LeBron James (“LIVE RIGHT”), Apple CarPlay and Soulja Boy (“HAVE TO CRY”), G-Shock watches (“GO HARD”), and themselves (“SEE U DANCE”). But the first idea for the album was to explore singing, and the anxious, confessional “LIVE RIGHT” was the song that Joey finished first. “When I sent it to Brae,” he remembers, “he was like, ‘Bro, this shit is ass!’” Brae confirms as much (“I hated it”). “But it was the first time we had really started exploring the theme of the album,” Joey continues. “As we started working on it, it became our favorite song. We hadn’t really done it in the world of rap music before, like, ‘How do we bring this sound, that we both like and are familiar with, to our audience?’” Being genuine was the right move, the boys argue. “We did what we wanted, and that’s what our audience reacts to. They understand it and they like it, which is really awesome to know.”

Joey Valence and Brae resist parody on HYPERYOUTH. It’s the kind of album you want all of your favorite artists to make—one that establishes a deep pocket and pulls its makers far into it. Vulnerability becomes a flashy asset and maturity is the playful equalizer. These aren’t two dudes just going ballistic on stage and shouting clever bars for a quick buzz. There’s elements of soul, house, and pop music woven into rap framework, proving that the ceiling is always the floor on a JVB track. The veil of chaos that the duo so often empower gets lifted on songs like “HAVE TO CRY” and “MYSELF,” as Joey and Brae reckon with the consequences of fame (“500,000 units sold, the success real loud, I let the fit talk”) and the burdens of letting your emotions come unglued (“Was always hard to talk about my feelings on a track, but you don’t wanna hear that”). “We really challenged ourselves to be more open with our writing,” Joey acknowledges. “We advanced in a lot of different areas on this album, and it’s still equally as chaotic and fun and silly as we’ve always been. But we were like, ‘If we don’t force ourselves to evolve and try some new things, when are we ever going to be able to do it?’” And that’s a big part of growing up—leaping into the unknown and embracing the shit that’ll turn you inside out if you let it.

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On “DISCO TOMORROW,” Brae’s candid delivery of “I can manifest a dream if I just write a couple bars,” which he did in one take, was one of those leaps. It’s an origin story: a kid trading a minimum-wage job for a rhyming dream. “Growing up, I never thought I’d make a mark,” Brae spits. “Then I met Joey and I finally found my spark.” In an era where sincerity gets clowned on, listening to two friends sing about chasing the success that spawned from their love has never been more necessary. “I wanted some of my verses to have purpose,” Brae says. “I didn’t want shit to sound super abstract or like some ‘Double Jump’-esque shit, where it’s nothing but punchlines. I wanted it to sound like a story, A to Z. I wanted it to mean something. When you hear it, you’re like, ‘Okay, I get it.’” He and Joey pulled from the songbook of Mac Miller (who gets name-checked on “HYPERYOUTH”), hoping to achieve a similar maturation-without-sacrifice from NO HANDS to HYPERYOUTH as he did between The Divine Feminine and the one-two of Swimming and Circles. “You don’t always have to grow up and become this really serious person,” Joey illustrates. “You can still live free and go out and fucking dance and enjoy yourself. Don’t forget that you have this side of you and force yourself to mature. You can learn things and grow, but don’t lose that sense of childlike wonder and enjoyment of basic things.”

Culled from the stereos of a 2010 house party, HYPERYOUTH sounds like how a grainy camcorder looks. The samples are heavy, clever, and nostalgic: On “PARTY’S OVER,” a crest of horns is preceded by Brock Lesnar saying “party’s over, grandpa” to Hulk Hogan on Monday Night Raw in 2014; on “LIVE RIGHT,” Brae sings André 3000’s “Forever, forever ever?” part from “Ms. Jackson”; snippets of songs by the Gap Band (“BILLIE JEAN”), Soulsonic Force (“GO HARD”), Bobby Caldwell (“HAVE TO CRY”), Ice Cube (“HYPERYOUTH”), and Lyn Collins (“THE PARTY SONG”) become instruments; the “Ride Wit Me”-invoking “BUST DOWN” repurposes Joey and Brae’s freshly minted Gold record “PUNK TACTICS” around a 91Vocals beat that’s so early-aughts-coded it could have been nestled into the NBA Live 2005 soundtrack. Not too bad for guys who, just a few years ago, planned to sell medical devices and work in the 5G industry.

But the album’s most important sample is the first one we encounter: Adventure Time character BMO saying, “Does growing up change your body, or also your soul?” And, though the hooligang might be the first artist to officially clear an audio clip from the show, its meaningfulness runs far deeper than just being a chopped-and-screwed accolade. “I’ve watched the show a million times,” Joey says. “Talking about being afraid to grow up, that is such a message of this album—being afraid to do it, but accepting it and being like, ‘You know what? I can grow up, but it’s okay to change and be accepting of change. But don’t forget this part of yourself. As long as you keep yourself true, then the world isn’t going to change you, even though the world is changing itself.’”

Joey used to be careful about using samples on previous JVB albums, because each one costs money. He came from that world, growing up on the kind of electronic music that Daft Punk invented, obliterated, and put back together. When his production interests and ear for MGMT and Porter Robinson melodies collided with Brae’s rap wisdom and hellbent pen, a path was revealed. Once RCA wrote them a check, the concrete finally dried. “To be able to go into this album and be told, ‘Go crazy with the sampling,’ we were like, ‘Finally, yes, we have people that can go out and clear these samples for us.’ We don’t have to do it by ourselves,” Joey admits. “Being told, ‘Make the shit that you want to make’ was really reassuring to hear. And we did it. I wanted it to feel like our Discovery. I wanted it to feel like you’re listening to a true old-school album with the art of sampling at the forefront.”

As the release of NO HANDS neared last summer, Joey began doing “How to Produce Good” livestreams on YouTube. The tutorials, he says, forced him to make his projects “more neat, because I eventually have to show them to people.” But he wants to keep them going, because “it’s knowledge that shouldn’t be hidden.” “I want to show people how we do everything, and maybe they’ll take what they can from it,” he admits. “I really don’t know what I’m talking about. I know what sounds good, and I’ve been producing for fucking 13 years at this point, but I just do whatever sounds good and hope that people know they can follow their instinct—instead of following ratios and rules.” With HYPERYOUTH (and the two albums that preceded it), JVB argue that the term “studio” is overrated. “You can put any instrument inside a room,” Joey says. “A studio is a laptop and a microphone. A studio is also a $100,000 room with a bunch of instruments.” But set up a keyboard in his bedroom, and his and Brae’s stomping ground becomes an elevated recording space. For them, it’s about the comfort a space can offer, not how many resources can fit between four walls.

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For NO HANDS, Joey and Brae got Ayesha Erotica and Danny Brown involved after sending them Instagram DMs. Even with more clout, they’re still doing boots-on-the-ground recruiting online. For “WASSUP,” they reached out to JPEGMAFIA after he followed them. “He was a natural fit,” Brae says. “Joey sent him the beat, and he was like, ‘Oh, yeah, this is sick. I’d love to work on this.’” (Considering that Brown and Peggy have both cameoed on JVB projects, one can only hope that the Scaring the Hoes rappers invite the Pennsylvanians onto their next joint.) For “SEE U DANCE,” the boys wanted to make something akin to a mid-2000s Timbaland and Nelly Furtado joint, and Rebecca Black was their first-round draft pick. “Knowing the people that would be good for a song once we make it is so easy,” Joey adds. “We have people in mind every time we complete a song, like, ‘Okay, this person would fit so good here.’ Then we mend the track around that to send to them.” The last time I talked to Joey and Brae, they’d just sent a Hail Mary DM to Skrillex. I ask if he ever got back to them. “He cleared the sample,” Joey says, referring to the “Bangarang” beat that appears in “HYPERYOUTH.” “Now, I’m just waiting for him to slide into my DMs and give me a kiss.”

“SEE U DANCE,” a soon-to-be club classic, best speaks into existence what the streets won’t pipe down about: dance music’s stock is going up, up, up. “It’s not even at its peak yet, not until our album drops,” Brae insists. Black’s airy, ecstatic vocal passages add a veneer of pop to Joey and Brae’s interlocking bombast. The song hits like a Fortnite boogie bomb. Between HYPERYOUTH and Tyler, The Creator’s new, shock-dropped LP DON’T TAP THE GLASS, it’s time to claim which rug you’re going to cut up. Translation: Get your fucking ass up. “We’ve been pushing that message for three years now,” Joey says. “Look at [Tyler, The Creator’s song] ‘FREAKS’: ‘If you ain’t gonna dance, get the fuck out of the club.’ We pushed that really to the forefront, and we’re lucky that Tyler came out with that album and opened up that conversation of really getting back on the dancefloor.”

After serving on the frontlines, touring relentlessly in support of NO HANDS and doing countless rounds on a busy festival circuit, the connection JVB now has to its audience is a critical part of their image and their ambition. It’s illustrated on HYPERYOUTH from the jump, as the album opens with live audio of a crowd chanting their name. “Them allowing us to make the kind of music that we do, and being accepting of all the different kinds of things that we try—as we sprinkle in little elements other than what people are used to in the music—it’s cool and awesome to know that they are susceptible to allowing us to change and grow,” Brae says. “We wanted to thank them for allowing us to do that.” So he and Joey concocted a tracklist that would best resemble a live show, one that ends with the duo giving props to their fans on “DISCO TOMORROW.” There’s a lot to be questioned about where rap music is going, or where Gen-Z music spaces might be headed, but stand in the pit at a JVB show and none of it will fucking matter. Nothing is cooler than what’s going on in that room.

“I think how diverse our fans are is really awesome. We have the rock kids, the metal kids, the punk kids, EDM kids, and hip-hop kids all coming to one place to enjoy the same kind of music,” Brae says. “I think a lot of other artists should be inspired to get crazier with what they do and know that people are going to like it. Don’t be afraid to get outside of your comfort zone.” So he and Joey heeded their own advice, refusing to coast off of the panache and swagger of NO HANDS. That wouldn’t be much fun, would it? After all, as Brae tells me, JVB are still “just babies.” “Three albums in three years, bro—we’re not even slowing down. We hope that everybody enjoys it, and even if they don’t, I don’t really give a fuck, because it’s what we like to make. Even if we were working 9-to-5, doing other shit, we’d still be making music together on the weekends, just for fun. I’m proud of what we made, and who knows where JVB is gonna go.”

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Matt Mitchell is Paste’s music editor, reporting from their home in Los Angeles.