Bear arrived in the Bay Area in 2012, when he followed his then-girlfriend from South Carolina to her grad program at UC Berkeley. During that period, he rose in the ranks of the music blogosphere and became known as a key architect of chillwave, a fuzzed-out indie rock and electronic subgenre that continues to influence to today's pop music landscape.

After moving to the Bay, Bear quickly gelled with the local scene—and his sound evolved, too. In part through various DJ gigs—including several at Wine & Bowties' homegrown mini-festival, Feels—he honed the sleek, autotuned take on funk and disco that defines Outer Peace. While Boo Boo lamented his separation from his high-school sweetheart, Outer Peace finds Bear in a productive and energized state. The album celebrates the creative hustle of self-employed artists behind their laptops; the debut single, appropriately, is called "Freelance."

With creative partner Brendan Nakahara, Bear built Company's headquarters on that "Freelance" ethos of a constant grind. When we talk, he likens it to a millennial version of Andy Warhol's famed Factory, where white indie-rock dudes rub shoulders with black feminist photographers and Asian-American designers.

"It's really sick to see these crews getting their foot in the door, and I feel like I'm in a position where I have to come in with the assist," he reflects. "It's almost required as a successful person—you have to give back. If you're not giving opportunities, it's kind of for the wrong reasons."

As much as Bear loves Oakland, the sold-out kickoff show for his Outer Peace tour at the New Parish proved that the town loves him right back. The eager audience applauded his slightly awkward dance moves, clapping along on the two and the four of almost every track.

At Company, Bear produces for several Oakland indie acts, including Tanukichan, Astronauts, etc. and Madeline Kenney. He mentors his artists on all aspects of the biz, including writing hooks, social media branding and booking shows. Unlike at a traditional label, "there's no advance, but you get my time and my ear and my eye and we'll make the best thing we can make," Bear says.

"He’s good at putting people into contexts where they can then find their own voices, whether it’s producing a record or having them on for a tour," says Astronauts, etc.'s Anthony Ferraro, who is also Bear's touring keyboardist and has his own studio at Company HQ. "He’s a really good enabler. He has an intuition for that sort of thing."





Though Bear bases most of his collaborations on friendship, he ultimately sees Company as a business. To hang with his crew, you can't be a purist with too many misgivings about "selling out," nor harbor too many romantic aspirations of art existing outside of the market. For example, while many in the Bay Area's creative scene bristle at mentions of the tech industry—a primary driver of gentrification and displacement in the region—Bear is quick to cite Instagram as a source of inspiration for his interdisciplinary curation at Company.

"D.I.Y. is great, but we also want it to pay for itself," he says. "It's hard to make that first jump as an artist, to put yourself out there and really sell it, do the interviews and brand your image, to go from playing house shows to being at The Fillmore."

For instance, Salami Rose Joe Louis, one of his opening acts for his Outer Peace tour (which kicked off Jan. 14 in Oakland), played the local house-show circuit as recently as six months ago. After they opened for Toro y Moi at The Novo, a 2,400-capacity club in Los Angeles, Bear remembers telling the band: "I'm sure you guys must be feeling crazy right now, but we're really putting Oakland on."

As much as he's thrived on a D.I.Y. approach, Bear's eventual goal is to own the Company Records building and build a more permanent infrastructure that includes a staff. Basically, he's trying to implement the lessons he learned from hanging with Diddy on that boat off the Miami coast.