Tyler the creator

“We bet our lives on it a long time ago,” says Christian Clancy. He’s seated on a couch in a cozy corner of his Los Angeles home next to his wife and business partner, Kelly Clancy, surrounded by plants. Getting into artist management “was never something we talked about,” Kelly says. But nearly 15 years after starting their small firm, 4 Strikes, it has continued to punch above its class, becoming one of the mightiest forces in management today. And Tyler, The Creator has been there from the start.
Before founding 4 Strikes in 2010, Christian and Kelly worked at Interscope Records in the early 2000s (most recently as head of marketing and marketing manager, respectively) alongside the label’s roster of hip-hop greats, including 50 Cent, Eminem, G-Unit and Dr. Dre. “There was no better place and time to learn the business,” Christian says. But by 2010, they’d decided to strike out on their own. Kelly departed the label first, in 2005, and she admits, “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do next.” Christian “burned out” on the music business and, five years later, left, too.

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That same year, a former Interscope colleague, David Airaudi, introduced the pair to a young, charismatic and carefree (almost to a fault) rapper who changed the course of their careers — and lives. Christian and Airaudi started managing Tyler’s collective, Odd Future, with Kelly joining soon after. “Tyler reinvigorated what was inside of us,” Christian says. A year after marrying in 2006, the Clancys welcomed their daughter, Chloe, and just a few years later launched their management company from their home. When Odd Future split in the mid-2010s, the couple started managing Tyler on their own. “We put our whole lives on it,” Kelly says. “It felt like a family from day one.”

The 4 Strikes roster has just four full-time staffers (including the Clancys) and has remained trim from the start, currently boasting five artists: Kevin Abstract, Romil and Matt Champion, who together comprise what Christian calls “the Brockhampton sector” (referencing the trio’s former group); the estate of Mac Miller, whom the Clancys managed before his untimely death in 2018; and, of course, Tyler — “and Tyler’s 147 businesses,” Christian jokes.

“We trusted and believed in [Tyler] along the way,” he continues. “I can’t tell you how many times I’m like, ‘Bro, you’re tripping.’ Turns out, he wasn’t tripping. But I always say, ‘I’ll listen, and if I disagree with something, I’m going to say, “I think you’re crazy” ’ — And then after I say that, I’ll jump off a bridge with him.”

What do you remember from when you first met Tyler?

Christian Clancy: [He was] staying on his grandma’s couch, eating Wendy’s.

Kelly Clancy: Three dollars in his pocket.

Christian: He’s still the same dude.

Kelly: He’s still that kid who’s full of wonderment. He gets excited about the smallest things and then can look at something, like a 10-year anniversary [of his own Camp Flog Gnaw festival in November] and stand onstage and go, “Holy s–t.”

Christian: He’s self-aware. As he’s gotten bigger, he realizes he knows less — and respectfully, that’s rare in a business when you’re typically surrounded by yes men, which he isn’t. And then your ego takes over. And the beauty of him is he’s open to new ideas, thoughts, discussion, perspectives. Doesn’t mean he’s not confident as f–k. He’s wildly confident, but there’s a big difference between confidence and ego based on fear.

Christian, you said early in your career that your job is to give artists the best opportunity to succeed without compromising. How have you done that?

Christian: Well, that has a lot to do with the people you work with. When you surround yourself with people who know who they are, that becomes easier. Tyler had a great ability to seemingly know and believe that he’s going to get to the top of the mountain. If you remove fear, you’re free. You’re not going, “Well, what are they going to think?” Like, f–k all of that and be true to yourself. I actually learned that from Rick Rubin. If you’re honest and confident, it’s pretty hard to lose. You may not win big, but you will for f–k sure have respect.

What are some key decisions you two have made to help Tyler climb that mountain?

Christian: The decision to [sign] with Sony, who gave us the freedom and full creative control and [ability for Tyler to own his] masters and all the things that were imperative to ever doing anything like that. We’re huge [Sony Music Entertainment CEO] Rob Stringer fans. He gets it. Betting on ourselves with [Tyler’s clothing brand] Golf Wang. Betting on ourselves with the festival that was supposed to just be a zipper ride in the middle of Fairfax Avenue and the city was like, “Oh, hell no.” And [us saying], “Well, let’s go figure it out ourselves.” All the way down to [lifestyle brand] Le Fleur now, most of those answers are going to be betting on ourselves. If you don’t know something, that’s OK. Go find the people that do and question everything and build your own house in whatever shape you want. It might not work. But so what?

Tyler is still hitting new peaks in his career: Following its October release, Chromakopia became his longest-running No. 1 album with three weeks atop the Billboard 200. How does that mentality of betting on yourself help drive his continued success?

Christian: Well, he’s got the best trajectory in music as far as I can tell, from [2011’s] Goblin to now. No. 5, No. 4, No. 3, No. 2, No. 1 — and then a [two-week] No. 1 [with 2021’s Grammy Award-­winning Call Me If You Get Lost] and then three weeks at No. 1. He doesn’t lose fans. He grabs the next generation.

Kelly: Also in a world where you have access to everything immediately with the emergence of TikTok and the way that our brains are constantly receiving information and we’re just like in this swiping generation … to create a world which you can step into and you know exactly [what it is] when you see a color palette or the silhouette of his hair, I think it cuts through. And he’s been doing that [with] every album. Like when the guy came out in a blond bob wig, a suit and loafers [for 2019’s IGOR]. When he sent us the photo first, I think we looked at each other like, “All right…” In the genre he’s in, you don’t do that without utter confidence.

Christian: Even if you didn’t get it, you respected it because we all want to be that confident. It’s interesting because Mac [Miller] was a lot like [that]. Mac had a way of reinventing himself in subtle ways in his trajectory of albums. And his was a vulnerable confidence, and there’s a similarity there, which is, again, rare where you have artists that have the gall to f–k it and not worry about the results. Trust in it.

Kelly, you posted on Instagram that “most people just will never know” what Tyler went through to get Chromakopia out. What did he go through?

Kelly: There was a lot of pressure — this is not him, this is just me speaking — from the last album. His trajectory has always gone [upward]. Looking at the landscape of music and things that were really successful and knowing that he doesn’t fit in these metrics or a lot of the tentpoles that artists look at as validation for what they’re doing in their career … Tyler never creates from that place of trying to match those. So a lot of times, he’s left off a lot of lists that I believe … I get frustrated because I know he should be on all of them. Obviously, I’m protective, too.

Christian: That’s starting to happen now.

Kelly: But it’s felt like it’s always been this upward battle, which I wouldn’t change at all, but all that said, now that he’s becoming much more of a household name… I just think the process of him getting this done, truly no one will really understand. Tyler’s a unicorn in that he literally does everything — like, everything. That guy is producing everything. When he has an artist come in to be a part of the song, he already knows the cadence of how he wants them [to rap or sing]. He’ll take what he thinks is their superpower and weave it into what he’s doing. He’s instructing the horn players. Thinking of the visuals, being in the edit room, this dude touches everything. So I do want him to have that recognition. He’s never going to be the guy to ask for it.

From left: Christian Clancy, Tyler, The Creator and Kelly Clancy photographed November 20, 2024 at Quixote Studios in Los Angeles.

Luis Perez

Kelly, you once said that your mother being a teacher helped shape your management style. How so?

Kelly: Being a woman in the industry at the time when I started, it was a much different landscape than it is now.

Christian: It was a f–king boys club.

Kelly: It still exists in different forms now. But her being essentially a single mom and a kindergarten teacher and never feeling like my brother and I were without gave me such a strong foundation. And then when I became a mom, it was incredibly valuable. I’m incredibly protective of my squad and that showed itself in so many ways over the years. I think it’s why it’s always been important for us to maintain a small company, because it allows us to serve in a way that’s not transactional. Like, we’re a part of some of them having their first kids, we’re in the hospital. Buying their first homes, renting their first apartments, these huge life milestones and being able to [be there] for them. Tyler, he’ll joke to Chris and I every now and again like, “Man, if you guys ever got divorced, I don’t know what the f–k I would do.” It’s like, yes, we’re partners in a business, but I feel like we’re also representative of a relationship. What does a relationship look like? Those things are really impactful, especially when you’re meeting [artists when they’re] at a younger age.

On the 2012 Odd Future song “Oldie,” Tyler calls you, Christian, a father figure. Is a familial touch necessary to be a successful manager?

Christian: I don’t take that for granted. Some of the people we work with don’t have an immediate father. And so you also take on whatever they think of their father, for better or worse. Is it necessary? No. Is it maybe helpful? I don’t know. We learn just as much from them. Tyler taught us so much about the metrics that weren’t being monitored by record labels. There were no cultural metrics. There were just [Broadcast Data Systems] and SoundScan and these things that sort of missed this whole thing that was happening. We learn so incredibly much from the people we work with. Mac, the way he looked at life. It’s an amazing two-way street.

What’s the key to maintaining an artist-management partnership?

Christian: I was fortunate enough to learn from Eminem and Paul Rosenberg. That’s who I came up with. I’m not a big fan of the word “manager.” I’ve always preferred “partners” because that’s what I really look at it as. The artists who change managers all the time, I mean, maybe it’s necessary. Although I do know, many times, it’s hard to look at yourself and it’s easier to point the other way. So the manager is right in the line of fire if something doesn’t work. And they may have just been carrying out what your vision was. For us, the family thing is what works. It’s up, it’s down. It’s good, it’s bad. It’s thick and thin. Once it feels transactional, it’s lost that bond — then you’re just the manager.

What are you two most proud of in your own careers?

Kelly: I’m really proud that we’ve managed to, by design, keep a small company. Not folding into a larger company. That becomes convoluted because it’s hard to superserve artists like Tyler, with like-minded goals, when you’re in a bigger company. [When] we started, it was just Chris and I working out of our home. So to be able to maintain that feeling that resonates with Tyler and all the artists we work with, I’m really proud of that.

Christian: We could have the opportunity to work with somebody [else] that would hypothetically bring a bunch of money, but at what cost? I don’t want the headaches and hospital visits from stress. We’ve really managed to surround ourselves with like-minded people and to Kelly’s point, there was never this drive to be some big company. That sounds exhausting. And the fact that we don’t hate each other. We’re married, for f–k’s sake. This isn’t supposed to work, not for that long.

What grounds you?

Christian: Can I tell you one fun fact? I can’t remember the last time I missed an Eagles game. We [once] watched a meaningless Eagles-Giants game in a tent in the Serengeti at four in the morning. No joke. We got Wi-Fi, there’s a lion roaring and I’m locked into an Eagles-Giants game that meant nothing.

Kelly: We try to go every year to Lincoln Financial Field [home of the Philadelphia Eagles], but this year we couldn’t because…

Christian: F–king Tyler.

Has it gotten easier or harder to carve out personal time over the years?

Kelly: Harder.

Christian: Definitely harder. This year? ­Impossible.

Kelly: This is the first year — and Tyler and I joked about it — we didn’t go f–king anywhere. Everyone was doing s–t in the summer and all of us were just in L.A. like, “F–k.”

Christian: Waiting on this f–king dude.

Kelly: We’re planning our vacations around artists. We’re planning our personal lives around our work lives.

Christian: Well, you try [to plan]. It’s a year-to-year question. This year’s a f–king mess — a beautiful mess. 

This story appears in the Dec. 14, 2024, issue of Billboard.