Ritt Momney: At Home Base
- Josh Kitchen
- 3 hours ago
- 6 min read
By: Josh Kitchen / February 26, 2026
Jack Rutter, aka Ritt Momney, hasn’t released new music since 2021’s excellent Sunny Boy — that is, until he surprise-dropped the chill and vibey, “GUNNA” at the end of January this year.
The five-year gap isn’t due to not wanting to create, however. Disillusioned by the capitalistic and oppressive demands of the modern record industry, Momney fell out of love with making music. It started to feel more like a job. “The creative process really can’t be compromised by money or commerce,” he tells me. “I just started seeing it as a really sacred thing.”
But since that disillusionment, Momney has had a whole lot of life happen. He got married, bought a house, got a pair of dogs — and the spark began to come back. His wedding day, he tells me, was “the best day of my life.”
Now he returns with his best album to date, the exciting and often surprising BASE, out tomorrow. On BASE, Momney sounds like an artist who is curious and inspired, happier in his personal life, yes, but sonically, he's more confident than ever — dropping sick beats and beautifully textured vocals on “RIGHTBACK,” kaleidoscopic explorations on the gorgeous “BODY,” with Momney’s vocals a shining star, and the stoic auto-tune meditation, "CAT." The result is an album that feels lived in and pure - an artist excited to share what we've been missing. I had a long chat with Momney where we discussed his absence from the scene, artistic burnout and rebirth, his bowling average, and why the new album rollout reminds me of Rihanna.
BASE is your first record in almost five years. In the lead up, you've talked about how you started to fall out of love with making music since your last record. It felt more like a chore or a task instead of something that moved you. I’m hoping you could talk a little bit about that.
I think I’ve learned over the last few years of making music, through the first couple albums, that the creative process really can’t be compromised by money or commerce or capitalism. I started seeing it as a really sacred thing. The way I was thinking about it as my career — thinking, “I need to be smart about this. I can’t do anything too crazy. It’s important that I make this certain music in this certain way for the sake of my career and my future finances.” That’s not an unreasonable way to think about it. But at the same time, when it comes to art, it sort of is.
It sounds like you're describing almost like an artistic burnout.
I just don’t think we were meant to have a career in art. I think art was meant to be a hobby and more of a release than a job. I was super burnt out. Not necessarily from making the music itself, but from making the music through that kind of lens. It’s almost like there’s some kind of creative spirit that knows when you’re doing that — when you’re trying to use it for your own gain. It clocks that really fast, and it starts making it hard to put out anything real.
It seems like the entire ecosystem of how the music industry works is the antithesis of what makes good art and how you make it. From the outside, I see it as a good thing that you felt that way after only two albums. Some people turn 50 and feel that way after pumping stuff out for years. Catching that feeling early probably benefited you artistically. When I hear this new record, it sounds like the opposite of what you were describing. You couldn’t have made this record if you were still on that path in 2023, right?
I totally agree. This album couldn’t have reached that place without going through that period. The release process feels different now. The release used to feel huge, almost like the destination was putting the music into the world. Now it feels like the destination was the creation process, and the release is just a cherry on top.
As the first couple singles have come out, I’ve had to catch myself from thinking, “This post only got this many likes,” or wanting to check Spotify for Artists and look at numbers. That urge is still there. It just takes a deliberate, almost radical rejection of those feelings.
it feels like people are being reminded why they missed you — why you’re good. It’s kind of like when Rihanna played the Super Bowl and everyone remembered she has like 20 bangers. People are seeing there’s a new ritt momney record and going, “Oh, cool.”
That’s an awesome comparison. I really appreciate that.
You can’t spell Ritt Momney without the "ri."
I think this new ethos has to extend to everything. I used to think there was the creative side and the business side, and the business side was just something you had to play ball with — doing what needed to be done to promote your music. Posting constantly, whatever it may be. But that can drain your creative spirit too.
We live in a landscape where if you want to sustain yourself off music, you probably need to use social media. Some people are built for it. It requires a new kind of person to make it now. There are so few introverts who are going to get widespread recognition, unless you’re someone who can maintain mystery and still command attention. I always have to caveat this because it sounds hypocritical. I am sustaining myself off music right now. But it’s complicated.
It’s hard to imagine songs like “RightBack” or “Body” if you were trying to be pretentious or something you’re not.
There were a lot of decisions over the last couple albums where I had this voice in my head — almost like a cop — saying, “Are you sure about this? Remember, we were planning on leaning pop.” When you have those external or internal voices going, it crushes your flow state and your creative spirit. It makes it hard to do anything. It’s not supposed to be a job.
Even doing this — explaining your art — it’s weird. I get that.
It is interesting to navigate. I don’t feel like I have to do this. I always learn something about how I feel about my music when I do interviews. I can get jaded about the industry and social media, but that’s not entirely fair. Social media can be cool. I posted a music video an hour ago. It’s an immediate way to show people something new and let them interact with it. It can get twisted for money, but at its core it can be useful.
It’s a useful tool - when you can get The algorithm to work for you instead of against you. Looking at your life the last few years — you got married, you got a house, got dogs — you look happy.
Thanks. That was the best day of my life. I’m really comfortable right now. It’s been reassuring to know I can make music from whatever mental state I’m in. There’s this idea that you have to be tortured to make great art — addicted to something or deeply suffering. But everyone has a mix of depression, anxiety, and joy all the time. You can tap into those feelings without being in crisis.
It just feels counterintuitive to support artists, but insist they have to be messed up to make good music.
When I’m depressed, I don’t want to make music. For many people, depression reduces productivity. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t create when you feel bad — it can be a way to work through things. But it’s also nice to be at home with my wife and my dogs, go into my backyard studio, and work. I know I’m lucky. I don’t have to work a full job and then force myself to create after. It’s hard to talk about because I don’t want it to sound out of touch.
We’re human. You can feel better later and still pull from earlier feelings. On this record, there’s so much context and emotion. It really comes through.
It was important not to overthink it. When you’re not trying to write a certain kind of song, something human comes out — something relatable that might make someone feel something.
Let it be organic. The production feels warmer and tighter immediately. The vocal layers on “RightBack” are choice.
Thank you. If we had tried to think our way into the coolest melody or vocal stack, it wouldn’t have happened. It’s not a thinking man’s game. I used to try to think my way into the best possible song.
I hear you like to cool off by bowling. What’s Your average?
My average is pretty low. I tend to be really streaky, but my highest score is 246. I've had some really good games to what my average is which is probably like 160 or 150 or something, because I've have some real bad games. But, It’s a good hobby. If you go alone and bowl over and over, you’ll be sweating.
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