The specifics of Volpe’s career to date are textbook for his generation-digital production, social networking hook ups, early internet acclaim-with one exception: his vaporous beats, somewhere between the catatonic vibe of a weed coma and the fuzzy headspace of an online binge, stood out from the rest. Today, standing on the roof of The End, a recording studio at the western edge of Greenpoint Avenue, Brooklyn, Volpe still carries himself with the same casual, unassuming air he did then, despite having become an in-demand name with credits on releases by some of the most hyped artists of recent years.įrom emailing laptop beats to rappers across the country to commanding world-class recording studios, Volpe’s journey under the name Clams Casino has been remarkable.
Ten years ago at 19, Volpe was just another would-be bedroom producer. It’s a fitting pose for a quiet kid from New Jersey with the world at his fingertips. Michael Volpe is standing on a rooftop bench, his clean-shaven head covered by a grey hoodie, hands deep in its pockets, the Manhattan skyline unfolding behind him under a moody grey sky.
