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Lately, Will Yip starts his days early. With a recent addition to his family, the time for him to get to his studio — Studio 4 in Conshohocken, Pennsylvania — while balancing being a family man with an incredibly driven mind is an art within itself. But you don’t get to Yip’s status without focus.
There’s a high chance that if you’re even a passing fan of post-millennium alternative music, you’ve listened to a Will Yip production. With his name attached to bonafide acts such as Title Fight, Turnstile, Circa Survive, and La Dispute to producing recent Anthony Green songs and supergroup L.S. Dunes’ debut, as well as Grammy nods, it’s all thanks to an inherent ambition.
Read more: 10 most criminally underrated Circa Survive songs
Born in the late ’80s, a child of first-generation Chinese immigrants, Yip knew he wanted to be obsessed with something. Music wound up being that thing. Spending his childhood poring over liner notes in booklets, the list of names and roles enamored him, including a reoccurring location, Studio 4. He also understood his position would require drive — mostly to combat his parents’ perception of what he would wind up obsessing over.
Bryanna Bennett
His musical start came in elementary school. While his parents wanted him to take up violin or piano, he opted instead for the alto sax until middle school, when he could finally realize his “cool” ambitions and picked up drums in jazz band. Fueled by his love for hip-hop, he set about practicing on everything he could, with his parents’ support — but not total understanding. Yip was going to be a professional drummer.
It wasn’t until the age of 12, when he and a pal decided to record their music, that the audio bug bit Yip. Pooling their money to cut a demo, as soon as he saw the logic-driven process married with creative flair, it was love at first sight. “When I went into the studio for the first time, I said, ‘No, this is what I want to do,’” he recalls with wide eyes. “The behind-the-scenes, big-picture thing, directing where things should be, constructing things even without playing. I was like, ‘Oh, I could live in a studio forever.’”
Begging to help out at the studio, he soaked in all of the education and skills he could. Yip then set about recording his school friends’ bands for five bucks an hour at home in his parents’ basement at 13. Everything changed when he introduced himself to Philadelphia band Blacklisted. After hearing their cassette demo, he offered them the chance to record in his mom’s basement for free — and, as any band are wont to do, they snapped up the opportunity for free recordings — much to Yip’s delight. “They were the Turnstile of the mid-2000s, especially in the Philadelphia area,” he explains. Getting on board to helm their demos, he eventually recorded their, for Yip, presciently titled 2009 LP, No One Deserves To Be Here More Than Me, at Studio 4. This is Yip’s origin story: “That’s the most important record in my life because that is what led to Title Fight. They looked up to Blacklisted, and then it was off to the races for me!”
Bryanna Bennett
Eventually, Yip wound up at a crossroads. The expected path his parents would want him to follow (Penn State) or his own (Temple). Choosing the latter, it was one person in particular who majorly swayed his decision: Phil Nicolo. Producer for Lauryn Hill, John Lennon, and Bob Dylan at Studio 4, Nicolo and his studio are two figures that would come to be an incredibly important aspect of his life, but none are as important as his homestead.
Yip is a staunch, proud Philadelphian. He professes its modern artistic heritage is due to its cost of living, which allows artists to be artists: “There’s such a collective culture, and it’s affordable, so artists can still invest in themselves,” he says. “Community drives art. I grew up loving punk and hip-hop. Both those things come from community. Without a scene, shit doesn’t go.” The list of acts that have called Philly, and the greater Pennsylvania state area home, is astounding. From the Yip world, there are Circa Survive, Balance and Composure, Mannequin Pussy, the Menzingers, and the Wonder Years, to name but a few.
He attributes his home city to being the bedrock of his journey. But it’s a symbiotic existence, since without him, chances are the range of Philadelphia bands that were rising at the same time may have found different trajectories: “I was just a little part of the whole system here. During that Blacklisted era, you had all this resurgence of emo, pop punk, and post-punk starting to happen here. There were so many bands at the same time, and I was a resource in the middle of it.”
Bryanna Bennett
Given all of this, though, Yip refutes the idea of the “Will Yip sound.” “I think the role of a producer, other than to help an artist create music, is get it to the finish line,” he explains. “It’s to understand what the vision is.” Which is why Yip ingrains himself in any band he’s working with. It’s also why, these days, any band he works with has to be open to such terms, one of which is currently Sleeping With Sirens. “My job is for me to join your band, to join you as an artist, and make the best Title Fight record and make the best Turnstile record and make the best Sleeping With Sirens record,” he says. “My goal is to be a part of your process, to help quarterback it, to get it done.”
Considering how precious his time is now, Yip is in a sweet spot where he can turn down work. Finding the right acts to be in tune with his process is more important than getting as many feet as possible through the doors. Reflecting upon this position, he pauses for a moment. “If you were to ask me years ago, I would’ve said, ‘No, I can work with anyone,’” he says. Now, he’s looking for something simple, no matter if they’re good songwriters or bad: “I just want to work with people that have something to say and that are also open-minded. There are some massive artists that I’ve worked with that are very stubborn, and they deserve to be because they have a very clear vision. I’m good on that because I want to have fun. I want to be creative, too.”
Bryanna Bennett
Now working out of Studio 4 as a business partner —after renting the same small space for so long, it made more financial sense — Yip has achieved all of his wildest dreams. Yet, that drive is still burning bright. He’s been Grammy nominated with Code Orange (2020’s Underneath), sought after, and firmly established himself as a go-to for any alt band looking to hit the next level. But the only thing on his mind is continuing that Yip work ethic. “I have a hard time looking back or staying still,” he proudly beams. “I’m always like, ‘Oh, what’s next?’ Yeah, the Turnstile record did well, but dude, what’s next? I feel insecure because we’re in music. It’s not like I have a guaranteed salary every day.”
However, he remains earnest, even after achieving every goal he’s set out. “I do feel lucky that I’ve got consistent records for the last 20 years now, but I can’t feel the success because I never want to be the person that lifts off the gas,” he shares. He refers to all the wins as “quintessential moments” of his career, but certainly not defining. “I definitely have a big sense of impostor syndrome. Your presence in the industry is very fleeting,” he muses. The only thing that defines it, to Yip, is his ever-growing discography. “I really try to tune it out. Not to sound like I’m too cool or anything, but it doesn’t do any good,” he says. “It’s awesome to get recognized, obviously. It’s awesome to call my mom and say, ‘Yo, we got nominated for a Grammy.’ Those are fun things to say, but that’s all that is to me. They’re fun things to talk about, but I want to make the next one.”
As for his parents, for the most part, they’ve fully grasped Yip’s journey now. It took his dad chatting to a stranger at a restaurant, and after mentioning his son dabbled in music, he showed the guest a photo: “He’s like, ‘Bro, what the fuck. That’s Lauryn Hill?!’ And he’s like, ‘Is she famous or something?’” Yip cackles.