Other A-list cameos will follow, as will the more adventurous stuff that he’s got tucked away with the likes of Juice WRLD, Rex Orange County, Francis and the Lights, Calvin Harris (as a vocalist!) and more. This fall, Mr. Blanco will release an official album, but he plans to continue adding songs to it after the fact, inspired in part by Mr. West’s living, breathing “The Life of Pablo.” By early next year, Mr. Blanco said, he hopes to have grown the album (playlist?) to some 30 tracks, a musical manifestation of his eclectic network and rarefied behind-the-scenes status.

“I have so many friends that are artists, and I work on so many songs, and sometimes it’s so hard to place them, even at my level,” Mr. Blanco said. “Now I can be like, well, I’ll put it out, and I get to do it exactly how I want. I happen to be the label, too.”

“Every rap producer in the world does it,” he added. “Why aren’t there pop guys doing it?”

Not quite an electronic D.J.-producer like Mr. Harris or Diplo, Mr. Blanco, who does not perform live, is part cheerleader (à la DJ Khaled, but without screaming “Benny Blanco!”), part social connector and part celebrity confidante — and yet mostly anonymous.

Still, Mr. Blanco, who is decidedly private about his personal life for such an extrovert, insisted that releasing his own music was less a bid for midcareer stardom than an experiment to keep from getting bored. “I definitely don’t want to be famous at all,” he said. “I beat the system — I get all the luxuries of being famous without actually being famous!”

Born Benjamin Levin to nonmusical but ever supportive (if skeptical) parents — a father in the “intimate apparel business” and a mother who worked in assisted living — Mr. Blanco was an aspiring rapper until he realized “no one cares what a chubby Jewish kid from Virginia thinks,” and began making beats instead. He recalled spamming artists on Myspace from his school library, and weekend trips to New York, where he slept in a Times Square McDonald’s and tried to land meetings.