Angie McMahon

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And She Is A Woman: Angie McMahon On 'Salt' & Arguing With Men About Gender

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Ahead of her set in L.A., McMahon sat down with the Recording Academy to talk about her debut LP, processing her experiences through writing and attempting to argue about gender with men
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Jul 26, 2019 - 9:11 am

Folk-pop performer Angie McMahon has a remarkable voice. Yes, she sings for a living, but the Australian singer/songwriter's trill is immediately captivating, deep and husky and reminiscent of everyone from Danielle Haim to Fiona Apple to Florence Welch. It's also quite unexpected coming from someone with such a slight frame and unassuming presence.

To American audiences, the 25-year-old may appear to have come out of nowhere, but McMahon, who releases her debut LP, Salt, today via Dualtone, has been in the game for the last six years or so, playing around Melbourne with a local soul project called The Fabric. She's also no stranger to playing to massive audiences: In 2013 she won a local songwriting competition to open for Bon Jovi on the Australian leg of their Because We Can tour, and as of now, in addition to playing the festival circuit (she's heading to Newport Folk Festival this weekend), she's currently prepping to go on tour with GRAMMY nominee Hozier. Her music, meanwhile, covers tried and true topics like relationships, but also looks at major themes of the day: On recent single "And I Am A Woman," she tries to communicate the nuance of a woman's experience to the opposite sex.

Ahead of her set in L.A., McMahon sat down with the Recording Academy to talk about her debut LP, processing her experiences through writing and attempting to argue about gender with men. 

I imagine the first thing most people think when they hear you is, “Wow, what a voice!” Is that something you get a lot?

I do. Sometimes if people haven't heard me sing and they hear me speak first, because my voice is kind of nasal. I think I speak like a kid sometimes, and then my singing voice is different. But yeah, I think I just shaped that around singers that I really loved, and I didn't even really notice that I was doing it when I was younger. k.d. lang is a really big one for me, the deep vocal work that she [does], and the deep emotion that she can bring up. I think when I started listening to her, I was just like, "I want to be able to do that." 

Did you grow up singing?

Yeah, sort of. I grew up playing piano when I was quite young, and then that turned into really loving covering pop songs and singing to myself. I didn't really learn singing, [or have] singing lessons, until I was maybe 18. 

I was always singing along in the car when we were going on family drives and stuff. We'd go out into the bush for a bit and listen to CDs. I was just constantly singing along, and constantly making my mom replay [songs, saying] “It's my favorite song.” I was like, "Again!" Even driving up and singing. I was probably pretty annoying as a sibling.

Did you start playing guitar around the same time? 

Yeah, I started playing guitar. It comes back to covering pop songs, and wanting to have the option of performing, picturing myself as a performer and starting to think about talent shows and stuff, maybe like 14, and not wanting to take a keyboard everywhere.

So I started learning guitar based off of my piano skills, and YouTube and stuff. I can't remember exactly why, what it was that triggered it, but I think it was probably the music that I was listening to, Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen my dad was playing in the car. It made me want to be able to do that instrument. I still listen to those records, and want to be able to play the way that they play. I want to learn harmonica so I can play, just reach that sound space. But yeah, that's where the guitar came into it. I haven't had guitar lessons ever, and I'm really not very good. I'm not saying that out of humility. I know that my skill level is at a certain level, and I really would like to excel.

How many years were you playing around Melbourne before you started touring internationally?

I was always doing solo gigs here and there, but not very seriously, just whenever they would come up. That was probably from when I was about 17, 16 or 17. I'm 25 now, so maybe there was five years before I was looking to start the band. I was also in another band [The Fabric], which was a really good way for me to build experience and to keep singing, and to learn how to interact with boys in a band, and be in a band space. That was a soul group, so there were nine of us. There were eight boys and then me singing, and that went for three years from when I was 18 to 21.

Did you go to school for music?

No, I didn't. The uni that I was at had a music school that I didn't get into. I was doing English there and literature, [but] my extra subjects were music stuff, which is kind of the best way to go about it because I got to do the fun songwriting [classes] without having to do the assessments and intensive jazz training. It basically was a jazz course, and I can't sing jazz. I'm just not adept at that technique. I mean I had really good teachers at school, really good. I had a trumpet teacher who was a really big mentor for me in high school, and I had my piano teacher who was always really patient and lovely. All the teachers that I had mentored me in such a lovely way, but I didn't have a specific music course that I completed or anything.

Do you intend for music to be a living?

Yeah. I'd never really thought of it financially, but as a pursuit, just the way that I want to spend my time. It's always been what I was thinking about. It was kind of a source of an existential crisis, because my work ethic for a lot of my life, a lot of my teen years, was just not very good. It was this thing of always picturing myself on stage, and wanting to perform for my life and write songs, but not having done enough of the work for that to materialize.                                  

When I was finishing my degree and stuff, I'd gone through my whole English degree, sitting in every lecture theater, just picturing myself doing music and writing song lyrics in my notepad and stuff. It was just this fairy land, and then I finished my degree. I was faced with nothing that I wanted to do except music. I had to give myself a pep talk, several pep talks over the years, and some from my parents as well. But basically switched into the mode where I was like, okay. I have to look at the business side of the industry, and I have to understand what I'm willing to work at, and what I want to achieve. 

I know that you're about to put out your debut, Salt. It features a lot of tracks that were on your EP, A Couple Of Songs. What was the thinking in including most of the EP songs on the LP? 

Well, we were ready to put [an LP] out, and then we met Dualtone and wanted to have a chance to release it probably in America. It's such a big country and such a big industry over here, so we really wanted to work with Dualtone. They were so great, but we had to figure out a way to promote the singles that have already been released across the world. That's where the Couple Of Songs EP came in.

It's interesting for me, because these songs on the record, they are on the album, so it's almost like, at this point, a lot of the album has been released. I guess that was for the sake of having a way to kind of push it into this market, and we just kind of came out with a couple of songs EP on the fly. I was like, "Well, why don't we do a little EP?" That's where that kind of came from, but I'm glad we did it that way, because I feel like the songs have their own individual life.

I remember there was an artist who I loved when I was younger, who put out an EP that I was just obsessed with, and I couldn't wait for his album to come out. When his album came out, it wasn't nearly as exciting to me as the songs on the EP were. I just wished that those songs had been on the record. It was just one of those things where I watched that happen as a fan, and as an artist, I just want to put out an album. I just want that to be the first collection of songs.

What's the thought behind the name Salt?

I don't have one answer for that, but I always knew that that was what I wanted to call it. I tried to come up with other names that made a bit more sense where they were from the album or something, but nothing else quite fit. I went with that word because to me, it represents a feeling of balance. Looking back on the songs, which are this collection of experiences that I had, romance and friendship and growing up, up until I was 22... To me, it looks like what is left after all of those experiences. It's the remainder of what I went through growing up.

It's similar to the way that salt is what's left over when water evaporates. Then it's like salt is in your tears. It's like salty tears, and salted wounds. It can sting, and it can bring out taste, and it can cleanse things. I think a lot about the ocean, and the way that it's terrifying and also so liberating to swim in. It's just all of these kind of metaphors that circle for me around salt as a mineral.

I'd also love to get your perspective on your most recent song, "And I Am a Woman." What was the thought behind that title?

There's no single thought for me behind this song either as well. It's such a big concept to tackle. It's just something that I'm being more and more interested in as I grow up as a songwriter, and as a person. It's maybe the moment you are content.

That was the most recent song that I wrote for the record, even though it was two years ago. The whole song came from this heated conversation about women's bodies in public spaces, and a real disagreement with this person about what we're entitled to with equality, and all that kind of stuff. I was so frustrated, and the lyric about being in my home is very much about being in my personal space, and in my body, or in my safety, or whatever. Then I guess the second half of the lyric, "and I am a woman," it almost felt like the most obvious thing.

How am I going to word this? You know when you're having an argument with someone? Arguing with men about gender, or discussing the misunderstanding of something that to you is so obvious. It's so frustrating, and you're just like, "To me this is the most obvious thing. Based on my experience and my life, you should focus on the standards," and they just don't. "And I Am A Woman" just feels like this really obvious thing to say, that carries so much weight, but is also really simple.

It's interesting. So much of the music industry and live industry, it's just male-dominated. I love the boys that I work with, but sometimes things just happen where you just need someone who shares this experience to understand why this affects me, and why it's a manifestation of how many times this has happened to me over my life. Things are just becoming louder now, and we're understanding what we are entitled to more and more, what we shouldn't lay down for. So it's the frustration at that same time is building, because the change is so small. I want to be more fluent in that discourse, and I want everyone to be more fluent in it so we can talk about it more and more.

I did also want to ask you a bit about the song "Pasta." I have to admit that the name reminded me of Courtney Barnett's song about ramen.

Yeah. I love her. She's an inspiration for my songwriting, for sure. She captures this humor and kind of relaxed personality type that I really relate to. Maybe it's a Melbourne thing, or maybe it's an age thing, but basically her music is awesome. I also think the tone of her songwriting has inspired me. There's a realness to it that is so exciting.

When you're writing, are you interested in projecting a tone of honesty?

I think it's more satisfying for me to write something to complete a lyric or whatever that is really honest, and with rhymes, and says what I am feeling or going through without realizing that's what I was feeling or going through until I wrote it down, so the satisfaction that comes from that. Then if I'm able to lace in humor or a double-sided metaphor or whatever, those kinds of things, it's just so satisfying. For me, [songwriting is] very much a way that I process my own experiences. Until this point, and it might change, but all the songs basically have been autobiographical. I think that that will keep developing. I have a long way to go in my songwriting, which is exciting for me. 

What's next for you? Are you working on future recordings? 

I find it hard to [write] well touring, and it's been a lot of touring in the last year, so I haven't completed a whole bunch of new songs. I would really like to be able to take the time to do that. It's basically the next year, I guess, is going to be balancing how much touring we can do, and how much time I can take off to write, so that's just something that I'm figuring out. It's also you can't force it. Just because you take the time off doesn't mean that's when you're inspired. The rest of the year we're touring the album in Australia, and then I'm coming back here to tour with Hozier, and then that basically brings us to the end of the year. So hopefully after that I can take some months. I'm really feeling like writing again. I think it's got to do with putting out the first record. It feels like a clean slate. I'm ready for the next thing.

CHAI On Redefining "Cute," Subverting Uniformity & Tasting American Ramen

The Futureheads

The Futureheads

Photo by Paul Alexander Knox

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The Futureheads' Barry Hyde On The Band's Reunion, 'Powers' & Facing Down Mental Health Taboos

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Back together for their sixth studio album—their first since 2012's 'Rant'—the U.K. post-punk revivalists are in fighting form
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Aug 27, 2019 - 12:20 pm

When The Futureheads disbanded in 2013, one year after their fifth studio album, Rant, came out, they didn't make a big deal out of it. There was no announcement, no reunion tours. They, as some meme-loving folks would say, "Homer Simpson'd into the bush." 

According to singer Barry Hyde, who initiated the split, the rest of the U.K. post-punk quartet were very understanding. They had to be: Hyde had just finished his third stint in a psychiatric hospital. He physically could not contend with being in a band anymore. "I just simply couldn't do it," he tells the Recording Academy over the phone. "I wasn't capable of creating for The Futureheads, with The Futureheads, and doing the gigs and stuff like that. It became very taxing for me."

In the six years since their split, Hyde made it his first priority to get healthy and figure out what his professional life could look like outside of music. He trained as a chef, then became a music teacher. He got his MA and released a solo record called Malody. He does public speaking engagements where he talks about mental health awareness. The rest of the band, who had been playing together since they were teenagers, also found new lives outside of The Futureheads, which blew up in the early '00s with their landmark self-titled debut featuring a series of twitchy, "paranoid-rock" anthems like "Decent Days And Nights," "Meantime" and a now-classic cover of Kate Bush's "Hounds Of Love." Bassist Jaff Craig also went into teaching. Brother Dave Hyde (drums) went on to release two albums as one half of Hyde & Beast and trained as a tiler. Guitarist/vocalist Ross Millard joined the band Frankie & the Heartstrings. Now, the crew has joyfully reunited for their sixth album, Powers, which arrives on Aug. 30 via Nul Records. 

Futureheads fans will be pleased to hear that the group has barely deviated from their trademark layered harmonies and fidgety guitar-work. Powers is a propulsive look at the personal and political. Songs like "Electric Shock" and "Headcase" plainly deal with Hyde's psychiatric history ("When I got my electric shock, it tasted bittersweet," he chants). Other tracks, like "Across The Border" and "Listen, Little Man!" consider the xenophobic rhetoric, regressive thinking and power imbalences in the U.K. 

Prior to unleashing Powers, Hyde called up the Recording Academy to discuss The Futureheads' reunion, his new role as a teacher and public speaker, the subtle cultural differences in how Americans and British cope with mental-health issues and more. 

Before we talk about the new record, I'd like to talk about the day you decided to discontinue the band. Would you say that it came as a surprise to the rest of the members? Or would you say that this was something that was kind of roiling openly for a little while?

Well, I think the fact that I was in a psychiatric hospital for the third time, having been in and out a couple of times, it wasn't so much a surprise. I think that Jaff [Craig], our bass player, was probably pleased that he didn't have to think about the band anymore. And I think it was a bit harder for Dave [Hyde] and Ross [Millard], because I think they always felt like there was a chance that the band could continue. But I just simply couldn't do it. I wasn't capable of creating for The Futureheads, with The Futureheads, and doing the gigs and stuff like that. It became very taxing for me. And it seems almost absurd that it got that way. Because, ultimately, it's just a band, at the end of the day.

After a certain point, I realized I had to clear that part of my life in order to stand a chance of not having to come back in the hospital in six months. So they were very supportive of that decision. And it was a hard decision to make. But it was an instant thing. As soon as we had this discussion, there appeared for me a space, a gap in my life which I could grow in, if you know what I'm saying. And it was a kind of unfortunate release, you might say.

Yeah, from a fan perspective it never seemed clear why The Futureheads weren’t around anymore. There was no announcement or news around the split.

Yeah, we didn't do like a farewell tour. We never announced that we'd split up or even that we're having a break. Yeah, the candle just kind of died. And we had no idea, actually, for quite a lot of that time, that six or seven years, that it was ever going to [reemerge]. It wasn't like we stopped working together for like 10 or 15, 20 years. We have made very different proposals to kind of get back together. But it did happen in an organic way. And as much as I was able to regain my creativity back, make my solo album. And then, yeah, called Malody. Which was almost like a chronicle of some of the things I'd been going through.

Because really what matters is that you want to pick up your instrument. You want to play the guitar. You actually want to enjoy the simple act of practicing your skills. And I went into the world of piano, and teaching, and orchestration, and all of that stuff in the meantime between stopping the band and getting it back together. And that was enough of an escape for me to be able to start to fondly remember this band that we created very innocently at the very beginning of the 21st century.

Given your backstory, to what extent are you comfortable talking about what you’ve gone through, mental-health-wise?

Yeah, I would say I'm comfortable enough to have spent time traveling around the United Kingdom giving talks on it. I've become somewhat of a, well, I would say minor, spokesperson for mental health and creativity. And I was able to use that experience as a way of sorting my own head out and I think, in some cases, opening up the discussion for other people as well. Because it is still a major taboo. And I think that's one of the differences, actually, between your country and my country. Is that in America, I think, people are a lot more open, perhaps, to talk about their emotions. Whereas the Britishness is kind of like get on with it. It's a cliché. But the kind of stiff upper lip. We beat the Nazis, so why do we need to talk about you? It still lingers on, especially in men. And I know there's lots of macho men who are incapable of expressing their emotions in America, as well, and all over the world I guess.

Yeah, so I'd say I was fairly unique. And also, in releasing Malody, that was the context of the album. So it'd given me the opportunity to perform in those songs. It's my opportunity to kind of relive those emotions. And I wanted to sound trite, leave them on the stage. And it's kind of like a publicly funded CBT session.

I’ve spoken to musicians for this site before about how the negative stigma around seeking mental healthcare is changing, thanks in part to the Internet and social media. To what extent have you seen positive change around this, even in Britain?

Yeah, we are kind of getting better at it. I feel like few extremely high-profile people, much higher profile than I am, for example, Prince Harry, talking about how he felt after his mother died, Princess Diana. And there was definitely a moment, or a period in time, when it became a lot more accessible to discuss these things.

But the truth is, when you're that way, you really don't want to talk about it. It's usually after the fact. And that's the hardest thing. Because you don't want to become that person who, when someone says, "How are you doing?," then you give them a massive diatribe on your inner psyche. Because, ultimately, it is inner. And sometimes, you can end up exacerbating the problem by focusing on it. So it's kind of a bit of a risk to then be seen as this person who has these problems. Because it does affect how people see you and treat you. And I certainly experienced that when I had kind of been in and out of hospital. And news got around town, because it's a small town. And certain people were very keen to try to help me. Or some people would stay well away, as if it was some kind of contagious thing. And I don't blame them. Because they, obviously, are not able to discuss their own inner world. And I respect that.

What made you want to actually go and speak publicly about your experience?

Well, I like to talk. I'm a teacher. I'm a peacock. I was a very shy child, actually. And through being a performer, I learned how to communicate on the front line in front of increasingly large crowds. And that's going to have an effect on you, and not all those effects are positive. But one of them is knowing how to get your point across. And knowing how to choose your words. So you're not just a rambler. You can be selective about what you say. And, perhaps, say the right thing at the right time. And that's a very powerful thing.

It sounds like there's a sort of a connective tissue between Barry the speaker and Barry the performer. Someone who knows how to conduct himself in front of a lot of people.

One of the dangers of becoming a performer is that it's very easy to stop practicing the generation of self-esteem. Self-esteem is so important. That's what allows you to walk down the street confidently and know what you're doing. And when you're getting rounds of applause, you can become intoxicated by it. And you lose those functional skills of how to actually define yourself without that crowd, without those reviews, without the interviews, without the privilege. And then, if you find yourself on a downturn in the music industry, which happens to everyone. People think about the Rolling Stones. The Rolling Stones haven't made any true contribution to music since probably the early ‘70s, but they're still carrying on, doing their thing. Right? But people say, "Well, they should stop." It's like how dare anyone tell a performer that they should not perform. It becomes part of your DNA. It becomes why you exist.

So when you guys actually decided to head back into the studio and record again, had much changed in terms of the band's chemistry?

It was a case of remembering than discovery. It was remembering how to be in the creative unit with these people that you've made lots of records with.

The hardest challenge, actually, was scheduling enough time. And we realized this when we started to rehearse. It was like, okay, we've been able to rehearse once a week, and then, maybe, the next week we couldn't. So we just thought, you know what? We just best start going whenever we can get together. We should be in the studio rather than a rehearsal room. Because at least, then, we'll have some kind of artifact, hopefully, at the end of the day to build upon. So it was very drawn out. Because we're used to hiring a studio for two, three weeks and making an album. This took maybe 30 sessions over the course of about six months. So the challenge was getting together into a room and whipping up that creative spirit on the dot. Like whisking an egg. Because you don't want to waste a day in the studio.

Yeah, it sounded like you guys started the process like a year ago, almost.

We did. I spoke to Ross on the phone two winters ago. We said, we're going to get together and do some stuff. And Jaff was like, "I'll only do it if we make a new album." And then, actually, we realized we couldn't really start it for another seven months. And that gave us time to get material together. Well, the writers in the band, predominantly myself and Ross. We're able to kind of scratch away at- Well, it's rock music. So, basically, riffs. Guitar riffs. And loving that. I've got three children now. And I work as a lecturer, and do commissioned work in private tuition. It was a juggling act for all of us in different ways.

Well, we got there. I'm really proud, actually, of this album. Because I know what it took to make it in terms of commitment and beliefs. Because, you know what, your album doesn't sound very good until it's mixed. And that happens at the end. And you've got to hold onto that confidence and regenerate it every time you go in. To know, actually, you're going in some kind of correct or authentic direction.

Moving into Powers’ track list, you guys also delve into the very relevant issue of changing British politics. Which tracks do you feel best illustrate that conversation?

I can only speak to my own songs, really. When I say my own songs, I mean the songs that I've brought. Obviously, these are our songs. I was the principal writer on this song called "Listen, Little Man!," which is about the kind of imbalance of power in society whereby the general population are placated into being and doing by the pressures of the world. And, meanwhile, there are a group of people who are just watching it all and manipulating it. Without wanting to sound like a paranoid conspiracy theorist or whatever. But it's true. We have the political class who are, in my opinion, absolutely embarrassing, right now, in this country. Self-obsessed careerist people with no social wisdom at all who've, generally, come from immense privilege and wouldn't know what it's like to make toast. And never mind balance a household. Then, come with no inheritance. Then, come with no privilege. Everyone else. You're talking about a very small amount of people with that privilege. They are kind of playing the tune.

And I don't want to sound cynical, because I think our duty as people is to find meaning in our lives regardless of the political situation or regardless of when we're born into history. That's always been the same. And we find meaning, often, to making things happen despite the odds. And that's where we gain our power. The album is called Powers also because this is an example of us using all of our powers. All of our musical power. All of our powers of friendship. Powers of commitment. Powers of schedule. And carrying it through to the end. When the album's out, then, we'll be able to be truly proud.

Palehound's Ellen Kempner Is Learning To Love Herself

Shura

Photo by Hollie Fernando

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Shura Tells Her Modern Love Story On 'Forevher'

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The U.K.-born pop singer/producer talks to the Recording Academy about moving overseas for love, how it inspired her gorgeous sophomore effort 'forevher' and why this feels like her "first record as an adult woman"
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Aug 15, 2019 - 4:23 pm

Shura didn't intend to fall in love with a woman an ocean away—like all love stories, it just sort of happened.

In the time after her 2016 debut, Nothing's Real, the British pop performer began to realize that having a traditional Tinder account was no longer an option, with her own show attendees screencapping her profile and posting it to Twitter, among other embarrassments. So she signed up for the considerably more private dating app, Raya, which heavily vets its users and posits itself as "an exclusive platform for people in creative industries."

During a phone call to talk about her upcoming sophomore album, forevher (out Aug. 16 via Secretly Canadian), Shura, whose real name is Aleksandra Denton, emits a sniff of laughter at the idea of being one of the dating elite ("I'm on it and my girlfriend's on it, and she's not famous," she says). But her experiment would prove successful: Once she began swiping on Raya, Shura met her now-partner, who was and is currently based in New York. After months of chatting, Shura flew to the city for a first date. Now, two years later, she's a permanent resident of the Big Apple, and her relationship informs much of her softly soulful sophomore album, which is home to the synth-splashed, Janet Jackson-esque single "religion (u can lay your hands on me)."

In many ways, forevher also represents a victory lap for Shura, who, even as recently as a few years ago, wouldn't have felt comfortable using same-sex pronouns in her songs. But the "her" in "forevher" is quite purposeful, as is its Rodin-inspired blue imagery of two women embracing. "I remember when I put out Nothing's Real... In the pop sphere there really wasn't a queer woman that I could think of, other than people who had also already been around for a while," Shura tells the Recording Academy. "So, Tegan and Sara, maybe you have Hayley Kiyoko as well. But now we have King Princess, we have lots of non-binary artists. The indie-pop world, it's just so much queerer than it was when I first put out a record. I don't feel like the only gay in the village anymore."

On the cusp of releasing forevher, Shura sat down with the Recording Academy to delve further into the story behind her latest effort—which is co-produced with Joel Pott and features collaborations with Jagwar Ma's Jona Ma, Whitney's Will Miller and more—and why this feels like her "first record as an adult woman."

When did you begin to write forevher in earnest?

I began as soon as I finished touring. I wasn't seriously planning anything. It was just about getting back into the groove of writing. No pressure to think about anything in terms of an entire record.

Then, I guess about summer of, maybe spring, summer of last year, I'd written enough songs to really go, "Okay, there's a body of work here, a story that I feel like I can get a handle on what the story is that I want to tell." And I began in the summer of last year, the recording. Kind of approached it, actually, in a very different way than the first record.

[The first record] was done like, I would write a song and finish producing it, and then move on to the next song. Whereas this was much more like, write a bunch of things, and then go, "Okay, what do I have here?" And then go in.

Did you primarily record in the States, or were you in London?

No, because earlier, I made it primarily in London. It was just about me going to the States.

I did some writing in L.A., actually, with Orlando Higginbottom, whose artist name is Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs. But that was the only writing that I did in the States for this record. I bizarrely made more of this record in the U.K. than the last one.

Forevher is about your forming a long-distance relationship with your current partner. When did you guys originally connect?

Yeah, so we met on a dating app when I was physically in Minneapolis, and my partner was in New York at the time. So we weren't close to one another, even then. And we met because she had said, "If you're swinging by New York on your way back to London, then maybe we should hang out."

But you know, I wasn't really swinging by anywhere. I'd just wrapped up finished touring. I was like, "I need to go home. See my parents and my cat, and my twin, but sure." So we began talking. It wasn't like an every day sort of thing. We would just occasionally share funny things that had happened.

And I guess gradually, we were just talking more and more frequently. For four months it slowly developed to this quite intense relationship. It wasn't sexual, of course. It was an intellectual one. That's the funny thing about it. Because it wasn't Tinder. It was an app called Raya.

Yeah, I just learned about that one. My coworker was telling me how she spotted like, Owen Wilson and Ben Affleck on there! Isn’t it where all the celebs hang?

Well, apparently. Except I'm on it and my girlfriend's on it, and she's not famous.

You have to give your Instagram handle. You go through an approval thing. It's based on whether or not you're verified, or verified people follow you. You know, it's kind of ridiculous.

I think everyone can get on it. If her and I can get on it, it can't be that bad. But I only got on it because I was at my own gig in Boston, and I hadn't even opened my Tinder. Because I wouldn't, at a gig, that would be weird.

But because I was physically in the vicinity, people found my Tinder profile and screen-shotted it, and shared it on Twitter and being like, "I hope we're going to meet." Or like, "I hope we're going to match." And I was like, "Oh my God, I need to get off this."

And I was like, "Okay, I've got to get off of this." And I told a friend, and they told me about Raya, which I found it so hilarious. I was like, well, I have to apply. It's just so funny.

Like a week or two later, after I'd applied, I was accepted. I was like, "Holy sh*t. This is what I'm going to spend the next hour in the tour van, looking at. This going to be so fun!"

So the point that I was getting across is, because it's for wildly famous or successful people, in theory. They don't show you people who are necessarily physically close to you. Because I'm guessing the assumption is that you're so successful that you can afford to fly to L.A. You could go anywhere on your private jet, or whatever it is. I wasn't wealthy enough or successful enough to be able to fly on a private jet to go on a first date. So it meant that we just had to talk, in a way that I guess you wouldn't on Tinder, because it shows you people that are close.

So you have to, after a couple of weeks go, "Should we go on a date?" We just slowly developed this relationship. I think once we got to the stage where we were talking on the phone more or less every day, and three, four, five hours at a time, I was like, "We should probably see if this is gonna work in real life, because it's taking up a lot of my emotional energy, and obviously, just a lot of my time."

So I just invented a reason to go to New York. I thought, maybe I can take a couple of meetings, and hit up some of my friends, just in case. And I flew to New York, for this date and arranged lots of other things just in case it went really badly. But it went really well. And here I am, two years later with a record about meeting someone on a dating app and then moving to a different country.

Wow. So have you officially moved to the States?

Yeah, yeah. I moved to New York in November of last year.

How are you liking it?

I love it. Which is really weird, because I hated it when I first went. I hated New York and I loved L.A., because L.A. is immediately appealing. There are palm trees, and the weather's great. And New York was kind of weird, because it was either too hot or too cold, and everyone was cross at you. In England, if someone's cross at you, they're going to apologize. You bump into someone, they'll be like, "Sorry." Even though you bumped into them. Whereas in America, if you bump into someone, they'd be like, "What the f**k are you doing, you f**king asshole?" And I'm like, "I'm sorry! I didn't see you!"

But once you sort of peel away the layers of New York, it has this real energy that's like no other city I've ever been in. I mean, for Christ's sake, it also of course helps that I fell in love there. You can't not fall in love with the place in which you're falling in love. Which is kind of weird to be that person that's being like, "Oh, America's really great!" at a time where everyone else was like, "F**k the Americans!" It's mad! So yeah, it's been quite a weird backdrop to a queer love story.

Well, in looking at your description of the album and its lead single, “religion (u can lay your hands on me),” I’d love it if you could elaborate a bit on how you’re approaching the concept of religion and Christianity here.

I think there's a few things going on. Frankly, there's this rich history, in general, with pop music playing around with religion that I enjoy. Whether it's the iconography or toying around with it lyrically. So it's just fun to me to explore that and be, "This is my contribution to that tradition," shall we say.

Especially, if you think of me being a devotee of, to use a religious phrase, Madonna. And I think it's sort of my way of honoring that tradition. But also, the language that we use around love is very close to the language we use around religion.

Whether it's "I believe in love" in the same way that you believe in God. It's a type of faith and the act of devotion. Something that we say, we devote ourselves to someone that we love, and the physical act of laying your hands on someone. It's something that you would do during sex.

But also it could be in religion. It's something you might do to bless someone or to heal someone. So there's me, just having fun a little bit with that and other factors.

I've always been really interested in religion. I very nearly studied theology instead of English literature, because I just found it fascinating that in every culture there is a kind of religion. Which is kind of hilarious, because I'm an atheist and always have been. But you know, to be fascinated in that and especially being a woman and being queer, two things that don't often get treated well. Like women, since the dawn of time have gotten a bit f**ked over because you know, in Christianity, the prime example of a woman is a mother and a virgin. Which is kind of a physical impossibility. From that point on, we're a bit f**ked.

Yeah, there's not a lot of gray area where women are concerned in the Bible.

Yeah. So I think just something that I'm interested in. I think love is kind of absurd if you think about it. Like the idea of being with one person forever, is kind of absurd. But that's how I love. That's how I do it. If I am to be with someone, it's because I think I'm going to be with them forever, even though all the evidence points to the contrary.

And I think there's something about religion that's also absurd, and that we believe that most every culture has a belief system, where we go, there's someone bigger than us that does everything and knows everything. And I think it's just playing around with the absurdity of humans and being human and love and faith is a big part of that.

Hopefully I want it to be kind of done in a fun way and also a funny way. I really, on this record more than the last one, I wanted to make people cry, but I also wanted to make people laugh, and feel joy. There was a lot of me in that first record, but I feel like in general, my personality gets across better in this record, in the fact that I am a deep thinker, but also a bit of a joker. And a bit, I like to kind of play around with things and have fun.

Yeah, forevher has a soulful quality that I think was missing on your debut. When you mention how you are with someone, specifically the way you enter a relationship believing in the concept of forever—even though all the evidence points to the contrary—is that where the title of the record comes from?

Yes, well, it's a combination of things. Firstly, the idea that we love forever, in a sense. Or the idea of the ultimate love, or the one true love, is someone you would love forever. But you know, it stemmed, or the reason I started thinking about that as a title, was because of the song "Forever," which isn't spelled with an "H." I rhymed "together" and "forever." Which is like the biggest no-no in songwriting history. Because it's so obvious that the point in doing that, I think, was to point out the absurdity of it.

And I think in the middle of it, I start talking about the sun crashing into the sea, and leaving us in the dark forever. When I'm saying "I'm gonna love you forever," I don't want it to be just this saccharin, cheesy thing. I want it to be like, "Oh, there's an absurdity to it, or a sense of humor to it." But forevher, the title, and the way that I spell it with the pronoun, arose because it was a mix of, well, her. My partner.

So much of it has to do with that. But then also it's a mix of, "for-her, forever, and forever-her." I think because I really made a conscious choice on this record to use pronouns in a way that I hadn't done before. It felt important to specify that in the title.

My first record was queer. If you watch the music videos and it's queer as f**k. But this record, lyrically, is more explicitly queer.

Yeah, I think that’s been in the conversation more recently. That artists, if they do identify as queer, they’re more likely to use the pronouns of their choice. And that probably would not have been the case, say, 10 years ago.

Even five years ago! I remember when I put out Nothing's Real... In the pop sphere there really wasn't a queer woman that I could think of, other than people who had also already been around for a while. So, Tegan and Sara, maybe you have Hayley Kiyoko as well. But now we have King Princess, we have lots of non-binary artists. The indie-pop world, it's just so much queerer than it was when I first put out a record. I don't feel like the only gay in the village anymore.

Absolutely. And as far as the album cover goes, that feels like it adheres much more closely to your identity as well. Would you say that’s true?

Yeah. I felt that this record was a more certainly musically mature record. And I think I felt like I wanted that to be visible just from the artwork and stuff. I always joke that my first record was kind of like the soundtrack to a John Hughes movie that was never made.

[For this record] I wanted to use photography and illustration to have that childish, teenage vibe. And this felt like my first record as an adult woman. And so yeah, I knew from the beginning that I wanted it to be, to feel vastly different.

I remember talking with a friend of mine, he's a brilliant photographer, Hollie Fernando, about wanting to recreate a classic image of love with women. And we were talking about the Rodin sculpture, "The Kiss," which is one of the most classic examples of erotic love in art.

I remember saying, "Well, how would you feel about recreating that and doing a photograph?" It was very important to me, even at that stage, of it not being just a straight photograph. I wanted to go through another process. I really want to print it as an aristograph, which is the the style of printing that just feels sort of nostalgic and almost going to make something look like an oil painting, rather than just a photograph. 

What I didn't know was that the image that we used for the cover, I didn't know that that was what it was going to be. I'd thought it would be very obvious, and it would be a wide shot where you can really clearly see what we were doing. And now, actually, the cover is kind of quite mysterious. You wouldn't necessarily know it was two women until you open it up, and it's unveiled to be two women.

I felt like that was a really nice representation, aesthetically, of the music. Because it's a very queer record that you could completely miss with queer, somehow. Especially if you don't listen to the lyrics. That's the first thing I listen to, is lyrics. But a lot of people are all about melody and the music. 

I'm just so struck by [the cover], how blue is such a promiscuous color. And I don't mean that it sleeps with a lot of people. It means so many different things to different people, to different cultures. For some people it symbolizes depression or loneliness. For others it's love or royalty or holiness. And I just really loved how blue that blue made me feel. It kind of feels like longing and maybe it's something to do with the ocean and the distance between us. I look at it, and it feels like there's this halo around her head. We might see Mary and religious imagery, which tied in with some of the religious themes.

But it's this kind of desire for the eternal that I really got from that color in that dimension. And I think that's what we strive for and when we are in love, it's this weird desire for things to last forever. There's a song on forevher called "tommy," which very explicitly deals with the notion of forever, and foreverness, and the desire for the eternal, and death.

Yeah, you mentioned working with Hollie Fernando... Speaking of collaborators, you also have so many on this record Orlando from T-E-E-D, Jona Ma from Jaguar Ma. How did you connect with everyone?

So Joel Pott, I wrote a lot of this record with him. We co-produced it together, which is why I still made it in London. So that was fairly easy because we'd worked together before.

With Whitney, I had just worked with Will, who plays trumpet for Whitney. I just fell in love with that record. When I was writing "princess leia," decided I wanted to have a brass arrangement, because there's a moment where I'm talking about, I was on a plane and a dead soldier was taken off the plane, and I saw that, and there was a brass band. Whitney's [also] signed to Secretly Canadian. So they just introduced us and I sent him the track and I said I'd really love for you to just do your thing on it. I didn't give him too much direction. As a fan, I trusted him. And when I got it back, I just remember crying and just thinking it was so wonderful. And why hadn't I ever learned to play the horn?

With Orlando [from Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs], he'd just put out a song, I think, on SoundCloud called "Leave A Light On," that I couldn't stop listening to. And it's very rare for me to reach out to people, like just slide into the DMs. But I did. I just DMed him and was like, "Hi, this song is so beautiful, I can't stop listening to it. If I were to ever be in L.A. for writing, would you like to try some things?" And we spent three days together and wrote four or five songs, two of which made the record. So that was just very exciting.

And then, there's a chorus of incredible women: Rosie Lowe, Kerry Leatham and Reva from NIMMO. They're friends of mine too. They just happen to be really brilliant vocalists.

And I mean, I've obviously been a big fan of Jaguar Ma. I'm so lucky to have, like, slid into the DMs of people who I'm a big fan of and have them be receptive. Some DMs, you don't get a response. So these are the ones that came off.

Well, it never hurts to ask.

I have this thing, "Don't ask, don't get." The worst thing that someone can say is no, and the world's not gonna end if that happens. 

Afropop Queen Victoria Kimani Is Kenya's Best Kept Secret

Victoria Kimani

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Afropop Queen Victoria Kimani Is Kenya's Best Kept Secret

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The "Wash It" singer tells the Recording Academy about her multinational background, growing up in L.A., Tulsa, Nigeria and Kenya and breaking out of what can sometimes be an isolating music scene
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Aug 9, 2019 - 12:52 pm

Everyone has an origin story, and R&B/Afropop singer Victoria Kimani's is especially memorable. Born in Los Angeles to Kenyan parents, Kimani moved all over the globe—specifically to Tulsa, Okla., Nigeria and finally Kenya—during her teen years.

These days, she lives full-time in Kenya, where she is one of the nation's most recognizable performers. She makes time to return to L.A., though, where she's recording her sophomore album, which follows last year's Afropolitan EP and 2016's Safari.

For all intents and purposes, Kimani should be better known in the States. Over the course of the last decade, she's been professionally linked to everyone from DJ Whoo Kid to Jadakiss to DJ Green Lantern to Busta Rhymes to Timbaland and beyond. More recently, she joined Ghanaian rapper Sarkodie on the grooving single "Wash It," and she shows up on Afrobeat upstart Hakeem Roze's bouncing June single "Miracle." Later this year, she'll drop her long-awaited sophomore effort. 

Kimani sat down with the Recording Academy to tell us more about her multinational background, coming of age in Kenya and Nigeria and why, as an artist, she's committed to breaking boundaries and pushing beyond Kenya's local music scene.

Can you tell me a little bit about your background? You were born in the States but you moved to Kenya as an adult. How did you get your start in music?

Well, growing up was interesting. I'm first generation Kenyan-American. We listened to a lot of gospel music growing up. I was pretty sheltered, my parents are pastors, so there wasn't too much secular music invited in the home. But we listened to a lot of African music, a lot of jazz, a lot of Miriam Makeba, Brenda Fassie, lot of the legendary African artists from my parents' generation, and then listened to a lot of gospel music at the same time.

So I think I kind of just taught myself how to sing from listening to gospel artists and trying to match their runs and match their melodies. My dad is a musician and even in the '70s he was singing Elvis Presley covers in Nairobi. Kenya in the '70s with his bell-bottoms and his Afro. He's very deep with the music. As far as good music goes, that definitely came from my dad.

But growing up here was, it was interesting, I was always moving around. Yes, I was born in California, but here we ended up moving to Oklahoma so my parents could further their Bible education in Tulsa. Then we went on our first mission trip when I was 14 and the first African country that I went to was Nigeria. Although we're not Nigerians.

We lived in Nigeria, Benin City to be exact, for two years from 1999 to 2001, and that was my where I got my real introduction to world music and how there's other rhythms and other kinds of music besides what I was familiar with in America, just being around my friends at school. I'd say I got more exposed to African music for sure when I finally went back to the continent.

After we left Nigeria we entered Kenya and my parents said, "Okay, well, we're relocating here now. No more America for you. We're going to live in Kenya." And I'm like, "What!" I think I had like two weeks to say bye to my friends. So straight from Nigeria, moved to Kenya and that's when I started recording. I was 16 when I started recording my first songs in Nairobi, Kenya.

Have you been based in Kenya ever since?

There's been times between then that I moved back to the States. So from 16 to about 18 or 19, I was still in Kenya. I came back to pursue my music and then that's when I got into songwriting where I used to write for a few different artists. But I think when I actually moved back full time, that was towards the end of 2013.

What made you eventually decide to make the move permanent?

Opportunities. Opportunities to build my fan base of people that I felt like were my people.

I felt like, although I was born here, I'm still very much Kenyan. My family, my entire family; mom, dad, brothers, cousins, everyone was still in Kenya. I was approached by a record label that was based in Nigeria, as a matter of fact. And I felt comfortable to go back to Nigeria because I had already lived there as a child. So I knew what I was getting in to. At the time Nigerian music was really starting to create some hype, some waves, globally. So when I had that opportunity I jumped at it because I always just stated myself as not just a Kenyan artists because I sing in English. I don't sing in Swahili. I wanted to be [collaborative].

For me that means someone that could be from one place, but you're [traveling] around the continent, you're working in East Africa, West Africa, you're collaborating with artists in Central Africa and South Africa as well. So I sort of treated the continent how anyone would treat America. Where you could be from Virginia and move to Los Angeles. You could be from L.A. and move to New York. That's not something that's really done a lot in the continent. Most people in Africa stay in our each individual countries and we literally don't meet. So I really treated it the same way I treated America very early on with even how you move around a lot as a child with my parents. So that was very instrumental for me and I think it definitely sets me apart as an African artist, as a Kenyan artist in the continent who has collaborated so much across the continent.

But initially when I moved back, this was just an opportunity. It was an opportunity for me to reach back to my own roots and to reconnect back into my town and to find myself as an artist. And five years later it definitely accomplished that and still accomplishing more. We're still building on it.

What is the reasoning behind people in different African nations staying more or less put? Are there economic reasons behind that? 

There's so many different factors. I mean for one, like right now people are doing it a lot more. But in 2014, when I moved back, no one was doing that because I didn't know that they needed to. I think a lot of East African artists didn't realize that the door could be open to them in West Africa. I think a lot of people maybe can't afford it. Some people really don't have the means to be able to leave like that. Some people don't have passports, and a lot of artists are also very content in their space. They don't mind being like the local champion, which is great, you know? They're just comfortable. Maybe some people are afraid? Maybe they don't have the connections? There's so many different factors that can kick into that.

But I think for the most part it's just a comfort thing. Right now, a lot Nigerian artists, they don't need to leave Nigeria. In fact, the farthest that they probably would want to go is probably Ghana because they have so many resources locally. They're making enough money. They have this stick-together mentality. Whereas in Kenya we're very different, but at the same time we have a certain level of comfortability. There's only 50 million people in Kenya. There's 200 million people in Nigeria. So if you just think about that alone, some people have just become comfortable with their space, and others feel more pressured to go and leave and go find a greener pastures elsewhere.

Another motive for me getting to go to other places is because our industry is not fully built yet. We don't even really use the good singing platform just like other artists, they're singing globally. We're very much in our own little bubble of not understanding where to place art in general. Even fashion. Politics is very much at the forefront, even in the youth in Kenya. So music is not an industry that's developed. I don't know what I would do if I wasn't able to leave Kenya and explore the continent the way that I did.

You've experienced so much success in Kenya. As someone who goes back and forth to the States, what's your interest level in terms of gaining more attention over here? Is that a priority as you ready your next album?

Definitely. I mean, ultimately I think everyone right now... I don't know if you're too familiar with African music or Afro-beats, but the message is very much Africa to the world. It's very much about sharing our culture and music with the rest of the world. When Lupita's made it globally and in America it just sends so many positive messages back to Kenya and it was like wow, if you do have this international dream or whatever it is and in your capacity or outside of it, it's possible. So, for her success, like it just meant so much to me as well. Ultimately I would like to see my music in a space that it can grow more in especially... Even now that you could just go down into a place that has structured like we still are struggling with collecting our royalties in Kenya.

We still are fighting for our rights as composers in Kenya. We still are, a lot of our music is stolen and we're not able to do anything about it back there. So here we are in this land of global opportunities, but also you have rights, you actually have rights as a creator, you know, so ultimately it would be amazing for that crossover to happen. The producers that I'm working with now they're African producers based in the States. So they also work with some top tier American artists as well. So for me, they understand the rhythm because I do want to stay very true to like my own rhythm, but they also understand the crossover. They know what's palatable more for people in America or Europe or the rest of the world. So for me it's about collaborating and creating more fusion. And so yeah, that's definitely my goal.

Could you tell me a bit about one of your recent singles, "Wash It"? It's a collaboration with Ghanaian artist Sarkodie. How did you guys connect?

Sarkodia is definitely probably the best rapper from West Africa. His flow is just super crazy and Ghanaian people have really showed so much support for anytime we have collaborated. This is actually our third collaboration. He featured me on his last album and then I featured him on my first album and then this is our new project together. Now we've just been working on the next body of work. I think it's time for another album. And so that's literally what I'm finalizing here in Los Angeles right now.

What are you hoping to portray on this album that maybe you hadn't gotten the chance to? How would you word describe the evolution between your first and this one?

Identity. My first, I was still trying to figure out who I am and how I fit in that space. I also felt a little displaced for a while when I first moved back to Kenya because I don't speak Swahili, because I was born an American. Now I'm around people who've never, ever been anywhere but Kenya. So I had to figure out my sound and my space in that capacity. And then you can hear that when you listened to the album.

Now I know exactly who I am. I know where I come from. I know how I was brought up and I know what I like. So now that really translates in the production, in the songwriting. It's very, very much Kimani, very me now. I feel like my first body of work was me trying to find me and yeah. So I feel like I've finally cultivated my own sound.

Can I ask—to what extent do you grapple with your own multinational background as an artist? Do you grapple with it at all? I only ask because I imagine it can be an interesting experience performing for more closed-off communities when you yourself like to cross borders.

That's an interesting question. There's two different ways that I can answer it. One of them is in the literal way where because I know that I'm 100% Kenyan tracing back to all my ancestors, but my mother told me that my tribe, which is Kĩkũyũ. My tribe allegedly migrated from Cameroon back in the day, which is West Africa. So if that's true, then you know, where are we really from?

You know, a lot of Kenyans are actually nomadic. Especially the Masai are known to go travel from different parts, but even now, they don't have a place they really settle. They take their cattle and they move. They just walk from country to country. So I don't know if I really trace all the way back, but at the same time, because my story is so different than a typical Kenyan, because I was born [in L.A.], I do feel like I can't ignore where I was brought up. I cannot ignore how my accent sounds.

Yeah, I can't really detect an accent. If anything, it's just a very soft lilt. 

I don't think I have an accident at all, but I definitely know I have one at home because Swahili's the first language, so I'm sounding like this. It's like, "Where are you from?" I had to remind people that there's something called Kenyan-American. It's like people don't realize that Kenyans left and there's a lot of Kenyans that have left the country and live in so many different parts of the world. I think a lot of Kenyans don't don't that. And so having to go back and explain this is the reason why I don't speak Swahili. This is the reason why I identify so much with West Africa because they are an English-speaking country. This is the reason why I was able to drive when I go to South Africa, when I go to these different places, because I'm literally speaking a common language. I had to explain these things.

I'm also very naturally rebellious. Nothing is really how it's supposed to be. And so I had to just stop apologizing for the fact that my parents didn't raise me speaking Swahili. I think really it's just about other people educating themselves about diversity in Africa and also with diversity of Africans. 

Burna Boy Talks 'African Giant,' Damian Marley & Angelique Kidjo Collab, Responsibility As A Global Artist

Christina Bell

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Christina Bell On "Going" & Playing Twinkie Clark In The 'The Clark Sisters' Biopic

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"A couple of years ago I went out to Essence Fest and did a tribute for The Clark Sisters, and then three years later I'm like, 'What the heck. I'm in their movie?'" the gospel performer tells the Recording Academy
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Aug 5, 2019 - 11:44 am

Gospel singer Christina Bell is having a heavenly year. Not only has the Shreveport, Louisiana native recently released a chart-topping single called "Going," which is co-written by Isaiah Templeton and Shamarr Blake, and produced by D. Jamel Kimbrough, but Bell just wrapped filming the Lifetime biopic The Clark Sisters: The First Ladies Of Gospel, where she portrays Twinkie Clark. 

Executive produced by Queen Latifah, Mary J. Blige and Missy Elliott, The Clark Sisters will premiere early next year. As she talks about it, Bell, who spent nearly two decades singing in the gospel group Zie'l with Crystal Kay Bell and Keyondra Shane Lockett, lets out a little yelp of excitement. First of all, AHHH!" she exclaims over the phone. "It's definitely a very thrilling and exciting adventure to be on right now. My first day, of course, I was super-duper nervous. But then it calmed down once I got the hang of it. It's been amazing ever since."

Now that she's wrapped shooting, Bell is working on her second solo album, which is due to arrive later this year via Malaco Records. The Recording Academy sat down with Bell to talk about everything she's been working on lately, including what we can expect on her upcoming solo work and what it was like to hang out with the real Twinkie Clark when preparing for her role.

How long have you been professionally singing gospel, and what inspired you to pursue a career in it?

I actually started singing since I was a small little baby. I was in a singing group for about 20 years. The group was called Zie'l, and we got the opportunity to just travel so many different places all around the country, and then a little bit outside of the country, hitting Jamaica and doing different things like that. And it started when we were in church. We grew up together and sang in a small choir. It was five of us. They were the only people that came to the first rehearsal, and that's how we started the group. Shreveport, Louisiana was our hometown, and like I said, we grew up together in the same church just really, really excited about just singing. At one point we actually wanted to do R&B, but my mom was like, "Yeah, no. You're not going to do that."

I continued on with the gospel thing. But for the most part it's really, really been exciting to sing gospel music. Of course gospel is the good news, so I'm really excited to keep doing gospel music and getting his word out, so that's where it started for me.

You've been performing solo for about the last four years. What has your journey been like in deciding to pursue a solo career?

I definitely will say the experience is quite different from doing group music than solo music. It's a little bit strange when you first start out doing the solo career because you don't get the opportunity to look to your right and your left. I always say this: you look to your right and your left. These are your sisters that you've grown up with, and you just have so much chemistry with, and you know exactly where to go musically, and you don't really have to say anything. But you know how you give that look to somebody and you're like, "Okay, yeah. Let's go there." I didn't have that anymore. I had to carry my own weight. In the beginning it's very nerveracking because you don't know if people will accept you like they did with the group. It's almost like you're starting over. People don't really know you as much. You have some people that remember you from where you came from, but then you have a lot of people that are being introduced to you.

The downside [of performing solo] is more nerves. You tend to be a little bit more nervous when you have to go from being in a group to being a solo artist. But the upside to it is, you get used to it. And though my nerves almost get the best of me, I've learned how to put that in check. So, it feels very exciting to sing and to perform, and just do what I enjoy doing. I wouldn't trade it. 

I know a lot of people ask me if the group will get back together, and I tell them I can't see it right now because it's freeing. You don't have to necessarily do what everybody else wants to do. You can actually get your brand out there. 

I'd love to talk a little bit about the latest song, "Going." What was the genesis of that one?

This is one of those songs that you want to have written, but I didn't pen this song. This song was actually penned by Isaiah Templeton and Shamar Blake. They are really, really great friends. Shamar was actually in Walmart and God just placed that song in his heart about God's mercy. I think he even saw something going on in Walmart, or something like that, but God placed those words in his heart about his mercy constantly going and just keeping us. And though we don't have to continue doing the same things that we were doing, you get the opportunity to experience God's mercy in a really, really real way when you're going through life, when you've made a mistake or when something has happened and you just don't feel right about certain things.

I think it's really, really special that they got the opportunity to get together and collaborate on the song. When you're working on gospel music you very seldom have people that can come together and do something so tremendous like that: make a song really simple so that other people outside of the writing department can understand what it is that you're saying. A lot of times I think that music has started to get to a place where we don't really necessarily understand what's going on in the lyrics, and this is one of those very simple songs where you don't have to worry about not understanding. I think that this song is actually for everybody.

In the Bible it says in Lamentations, chapter 3, verses 22 and 23, "The faithful love of the Lord never ends and his mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness. His mercies are new each morning." That's so beneficial for all of us, when you get to experience the love of God, and his mercy and his grace constantly just wrapping you up. I always say you got two best friends following you, grace and mercy. Because if you get in trouble, if you find yourself wondering what's next, you still have grace and mercy that follows you all of the days of your life, and you don't necessarily have to really struggle with wondering if God is there. 

In the song it talks about God talking you off of the ledge. Not necessarily off of a physical edge, but a spiritual edge. If you find yourself looking over the edge and you're like, "Okay. I just can't do it no more." God, he will in the nick of time literally send you something, or remind you of a word something in your spirit and you can just come off of that and you'll be like, "You know what? I'm not worrying about this anymore. I am not about to worry about it. I'm not going to be afraid anymore. I'm just going to take that leap of faith and I'm going to jump." And that's God's mercy just constantly saying, "You know what? I got you."

You just wrapped up filming The Clark Sisters, your first movie role. How did you get involved with this project?

First of all, [Screams] AHHH! It's definitely a very thrilling and exciting adventure to be on right now, okay?

We got connected with this project through a very well-known producer, and writer. He posted about it on his Instagram page, and I don't think that he was supposed to, but my managers got wind of it and reached out. And we got the opportunity to do an audition. They told me to get it in by a certain time, and I had to learn my sides in less than a day. And that's something that I have never done before, so I got the sides done and really, really studied hard for it. I had to study for three different role. They wanted me to try out for three different characters, and then Twinkie was the one that they were like, "No, you are definitely Twinkie." So I got the role, and a month later everything was history. We got to Canada. And my first day, of course, I was super duper nervous. But then it calmed down once I got the hang of it. It's been amazing ever since.

Did you actually re-record The Clark Sisters' songs? 

The first thing that we did was, we went to studios to record the vocals and everything. And this is something I didn't know, of course, but we did see live vocals as well while we were on set. A lot of what you see is us singing live, but they of course had to mix the two so that they could make sure that it was great for TV. You don't want to really have mess-ups and all that stuff or whatever. So we did do the recording of the vocals first, before we even did any television, the scenes or anything like that. Before we did any of that. So, that was nerveracking because I actually had never done lip syncing or anything like that. 

Right, and it's actually really hard to lip sync, or so I've been told.

Yes! I had to ask them. I was like, "Can I sing live?" So I sang live quite a bit, and the other girls did as well. It was something that not all of us, actually, have ever experienced actually doing live. I mean, lip syncing for videos and stuff. So, it came out really, really good. 

Did you have the opportunity to connect with Twinkie herself?

Oh, definitely. Mm-hmm. The group that I sang with, we covered quite a few of [The Clark Sisters'] songs when we were growing up. And once we got recognition for their song called "Is My Living In Vain," we got the opportunity to meet them. From that point on we did some meet and greets with them, and we also got the opportunity to sing with them on stage once before, or it may have been twice before. Over the years we got the opportunity to do tributes to them. And quite funny thing is, a couple of years ago I went out to Essence Fest in New Orleans and did a tribute with a couple of women gospel artists, and we did a tribute for The Clark sisters, and then three years later I'm like, "What the heck. I'm in their movie?"

I've [also] gotten the opportunity to sing at their church and just have fellowship with them, and actually speak with them, and with Twinkie. The Clark sisters saw the movie already, and when Twinkie watched it then she says, "You know, I like everybody, but the Twinkie character, I really like her."

That's great. So what can you tell us about your new LP?

I'm actually about to release my second project, which is going to be this year. And I'm super-duper excited about that because I've actually been done with it for about a year and a half, maybe two years now, and we just wanted to make sure that everything was absolutely fantastic for the listeners. It's just really important to me that people are not necessarily bombarded with gospel, even when it comes to gospel music. I wanted people to walk away with the feeling of relief and feeling renewed, because of course that's what the Bible talks about: be transformed by the renewing of your mind. I want people to walk away feeling renewed and feeling refreshed. 

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