“As far as the music goes, our mission statement was to let everything we have ever been inspired by infiltrate what we’re doing,” Gym Class Heroes leader Travie McCoy said in 2022. His father was a bass player, while his mother was “onto some hair-metal shit,” which meant he was exposed to a hodgepodge of sounds. “When it came to making music, I was like, ‘Why would I deny any of this?’ We didn’t set out to fit into any specific genre — we just wanted to make dope music. With Gym Class Heroes, it was four of us from all different walks of life coming together to meet on common ground. It is almost like an audio version of New York City: a melting pot.”
Across their catalog, Gym Class Heroes have done exactly that. From the very beginning, the group fused a myriad of genres — hip-hop, rock, emo, funk — to foreground their storytelling, creating a sound that made its mark on the alternative world, especially with 2005’s The Papercut Chronicles. In an exclusive track-by-track for AP, McCoy revealed intimate details about his time writing and recording their Fueled By Ramen debut. Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump sang on the hook of “Cupid’s Chokehold” because the group couldn’t clear a Supertramp sample. Inspired by GZA’s “Labels,” McCoy flipped through the pages of AP magazines to glean some of the band names that appear in the lyrics of “Taxi Driver.” “Graduation Day” was inspired by the film 187 with Samuel L. Jackson, particularly a commencement scene scored by DJ Shadow.
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While celebrating its milestone anniversary this year, Gym Class Heroes have been in the studio, hard at work on their first album since 2011, which McCoy announced during a surprise appearance at a Savannah Bananas baseball game in Pittsburgh. As they ready its release, McCoy traveled back to the mid-2000s to take us through every song on The Papercut Chronicles.
“Za Intro”
Za did this one. He went by Za — real name Jason Amsel. Dude is a straight-up genius. He used to play guitar with Gym Class Heroes for a couple shows, but on the side, he was making music with the Stephen Hawking computer voice. Wild shit. Beyond that, this motherfucker literally made a patent for a self-recharging battery. I don’t know the science, but trust me — he’s set, unless the government comes for his ass. Shoutout to Za for the intro. Doesn’t make sense, but also makes all the sense in the world.
“Papercuts”
Right before the first song you hear a little sample — it’s a convo with my girlfriend at the time, Alicia. She’s like, “It’s crazy how something so small can hurt so bad.” And I’m like, “What’d you say?” She says, “I have a papercut.” Boom. Album title. The beat? I made that on a bootlegged copy of this program called eJay. My boy Wes Greco, a rapper from Geneva, let me borrow it, then wanted it back once I started getting nice with it. I burned a copy, kept cooking. Brought those skeleton beats to band rehearsal and said, “Let’s make live songs outta these.” “Papercuts” was the first. People think it’s about a girl — “She says she loves me, but she comes and goes when she pleases,” but nah. That’s me talking about inspiration personified.
“Petrified Life and the Twice Told Joke (Decrepit Bricks)”
This one’s tied to Pulteney Park back home in Geneva. Old half-circle of decrepit bricks, statue in the middle, fountain, all that. I’d walk it at night, headphones in, trying to disassociate from whatever was going on in my life. Those bricks have seen hundreds of years of people dealing with their own shit. That’s where the title came from.
“Make Out Club”
Basically a song to my exes. Some were cool, some not so cool. Line goes, “They said I got to change my evil ways, and I’m working hard every day…” That was real. Funny thing: After I wrote it, Em dropped “My Fault,” and we ended up using the same melody without knowing it. Crazy coincidence.
“Taxi Driver”
My version of GZA’s “Labels.” He flipped label names into a whole verse — I wanted to do the same but with band names. Real talk: I was literally on the toilet with a stack of AP magazines, reading through all these long-ass band names: You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, Every Time I Die, etc. Wrote the whole thing sitting there. No shame.
“So Long Friend”
This one’s tough. I was working at a tattoo shop, stepped out for a smoke, saw the old smoke shop — we used to call it the bookstore — on fire. Didn’t even realize my cousin Monique lived upstairs. Found out the next morning she died in that fire. Later, learned she’d been raped and murdered before it was set. Even worse, it was by another cousin. Still hard to process. Sie and I had this little dictaphone. I vented into it — raw, no writing, just me talking, voice cracking. He turned it into “So Long Friend.” Put a beat under it. First time I heard it, we both cried. That one will always hit different.
“Everyday’s Forecast”
Bleeds right out of “So Long Friend.” Me at my lowest. Back then I went by Shlep Rock — cartoon dude who always had a rain cloud over his head. Felt exactly like that. Heavy track for me to revisit, but it was cathartic.
“Pillmatic”
Produced by Sie. This was me at my lowest. Deep in addiction. I wasn’t glorifying it — just telling the truth. Honestly, I hate performing it. But it’s real, and it belongs on the record.
“Simple Livin’”
At the end of “Pillmatic,” you can hear me barking at Matt like, “No motherfucker, do it like this — sha-clack, d-d-d-d-d…” People thought I was shitting on him, but nah, it was planned. Easter egg. This track’s one of my favorites. Captured where I was: broke, hustling jobs, grinding to make Gym Class pop.
“Cupid’s Chokehold” (feat. Patrick Stump)
Yeah, that one. Sampled Supertramp, couldn’t clear it, so Patrick Stump came through on the hook. First song where I knew we had a hit. Patrick told me straight up — “I’m making a pop record, motherfucker.” That flipped my whole perspective. I started studying pop formulas, and “Cupid’s” came out of that mindset.
“Faces in the Hall”
People always ask if it’s a true story. It’s… not exactly, but it’s based on kids I knew. Alberto, Maria — there were a lot of them. People bullied or tormented for being different. Still feels relevant.
“Graduation Day”
This was inspired by the film 187 with Samuel L. Jackson. There’s this graduation scene DJ Shadow scored — no dialogue, just music. We wanted to capture that vibe, like the kids from “Faces in the Hall” finally making it through.
“Apollo 3-1-5”
Instrumental break so I could pound a pint of apricot wheat onstage. Geneva’s area code is 315, so we had to throw that in. Sie on the cuts.
“Wejustfreestylin’, Pt. 2”
The freestyle joint. Our “The Heart” series, like Kendrick does. Just something to carry across albums.
“To Bob Ross With Love”
Me flexing what I picked up in art school, but also giving flowers to the man. Bob Ross is the human form of Xanax. Watch his shit — you’ll feel better. If not, you might not be human.
“Papercuts (The Reason for the Lesions Remix by Mr. Dibbs)”
Wanted a remix. Sent it to Mr. Dibbs, he flipped it. My vocals feel a little off, but then his brother Chris — who’d just been stabbed and was literally in the hospital — laid down that “Here comes another paper cut” vocal from his bed. That trumps everything. Respect forever.
“Kid Nothing vs. the Echo Factor”
Somehow people thought it was called “Kid Nothing Boy vs. the Echo Factory,” but nah. Always “Kid Nothing vs. the Echo Factor.” It’s me saying: I could talk cars, jewelry, fake shit — but would you listen to me if I just said “hi”? That’s the realest core of the record.
“Band Aids”
Instrumental sendoff. I wanted to thank everyone, but instead I just wrote, “Thank you. You know exactly who you are. You played the role of super glue when I was falling apart.” Easier than naming every name. Tied it back to the concept — Papercuts need “Band Aids.”