GRAMMYs

Margo Price

Photo by Bobbi Rich

News

The Unbreakable Margo Price

Facebook Twitter Email
The country singer/songwriter speaks to GRAMMY.com about her third studio album, 'That's How Rumors Get Started', working with Sturgill Simpson and her two heroes, late friend John Prine and his oddball soul-legend pal Swamp Dogg
Dan Weiss
GRAMMYs
Jul 13, 2020 - 9:10 am

At 37, Margo Price hasn't just lived a few lives already. She’s lived a few country singers' lives already, famously pawning her wedding ring to make Midwest Farmer's Daughter, the 2016 album that caught Jack White's attention and then the world’s, with not just the Newport Folk Festival to follow but "SNL" and a GRAMMY nomination for Best New Artist. For someone who survived the death of her infant son, a drunk-driving accident, jail time and homelessness, that's a vast change of fortune. Except fast-forward to 2020 where everything goes wrong no matter who you are, and Price came out of a few-years hiatus to have her excellent new album That’s How Rumors Get Started delayed anew while her husband and fellow musician/collaborator Jeremy Ivey fought a frightening bout of coronavirus right in her home just after beginning to raise their newborn daughter.

Luckily, the new album is a good fit for the holdup, a scorched-earth record that's at least half rock’n’roll on lyrics alone: "Call me a bitch, then call me baby / You don’t know me, you don’t own me," "Sobriety is a hell of a drug," "I won’t forget what it’s like to be poor," and of course, the delectably autobiographical "If it don’t break you, it might just make you rich." The tenderly worded All American Made made its points through typically acerbic country ("Don’t say you love me when you treat me this way," "Pay gap, pay gap, breaking my dollars in half") but the Sturgill Simpson-produced Rumors adds howling guitars returning the White Stripes favor on "Twinkle Twinkle" and the lung-bursting coda of "I'd Die for You," which is exactly what a multivalent songbird sings to her newborn's ailing father during a pandemic. GRAMMY.com spoke to Price over the phone about coming out of this state with sanity (and songs) intact, and her two heroes, late friend John Prine and his oddball soul-legend pal Swamp Dogg.

How is Jeremy doing?

Oh, he's healthy again and we’re really grateful for that.

That's great, I imagine this period was really scary for your family.

It’s been... not ideal for sure. I really hope that we all continue to stay healthy.

Do you feel like you're ready to plug back into music after all this craziness?

I do, I mean, it’s just been a long time coming and if I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant—and you know there would have been a lot of different factors—I would’ve had this out last summer. But I think everything happens for a reason, so we just roll with the punches.

When an album like That’s How Rumors Get Started sits on the shelf for this long, do you start to feel less connected from it? I imagine this year gave you a whole new album to write.

I'm definitely getting ready to, you know, start writing and recording again just to keep myself occupied and whatnot, but I feel like we picked it up, we started learning the songs and we put it back down. It’s still the best thing I’ve ever done, I think, thus far, and, you know, that makes me still feel connected to the songs and confident that it’s gonna hopefully go over well.

All American Made felt like you had a lot of things to say, and Rumors feels like you wanted to show those things rather than tell them. Did you feel like you were doing more dynamic singing or making a louder album?

I knew that I wanted to sonically do something that I'd never done before and use what I’d learned over the past few years being on the road. Having played rock’n’roll music and played in a soul band prior to everybody getting to know me through Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, it’s been interesting to only get put into this Americana category. So I just wanted to do something that was well-rounded. We put a lot of time into doing this album, a lot of care into my vocals, and I would say that Sturgill helped me turn it up to 11.

What was the biggest thing that you learned from working with Sturgill?

I really wanted to record every song that I had at the time, and we did put down like 16 tracks. But he was like, "You should just get something that sounds like they all go together like texturally and as a bigger picture." I think that was good advice, and I feel really good about the 10 songs; they feel like they belong together. It’s not like, oh, you’re skipping over this one track. And the way he had me approach doing my vocals was pretty key in getting the sounds that we got. I don’t like to sing with headphones on—I don’t think anybody likes to hear their own voice coming back at them—so that was an idea of his: To get more of how I sing when I’m just performing on stage, we took the headphones off and just sang in the studio with the track coming back at me at, like, a very low volume. I was just able to belt and hear myself the way that I normally would hear myself.

Like singing in the shower where you can just go at it.

Exactly.

It shows. A song like "I'd Die for You" is a much less muted way to close your album, like "With or Without You" or one of those big U2 ballads.

Oh, thank you, that’s great. I love that reference.

And then you have "Heartless Mind," which sounds like an idea Sturgill would definitely encourage. Was it always planned to be a fast, new wave-y song?

No, I did not picture it coming out like that and I absolutely love it. I was going into the session thinking that that one may be like, a [Pat Benatar’s] "Heartbreaker"-like guitar-driven song and then the synth got on it. It turned out better than I could have expected, with my friend Ashley Wilcoxson on backing vocals, but it's a big sonic change for what usually is behind me. I actually even let [Sturgill] put a drum machine just on the snare head for the choruses; a few years ago I might have said that’s sacrilege. And my drummer Dillon Napier is playing actual drums on it.

It's very in the spirit of Sturgill’s last album, Sound & Fury, which quite a few people compared to ZZ Top, and they are generally considered to be one of the most successful acts to put synthesizers on roots music.

Yeah his album's wild. I don’t think anybody expected it from him. I mean, I didn't expect it from him and I know the motherf**ker. A lot of times I see people working with certain producers because they're hot at the moment, or like, you know, things become really trendy and it's scary to go out there and get out of your comfort zone. But I’d rather make a few mess-ups then go crazy from just regurgitating the same ideas.

Do any of the lyrics on Rumors resonate differently for you now after the events of this year?

There’s moments that have become more powerful. I felt that same thing happened with All American Made because I wrote it while it was an election year but no one was in office, and then… you know. Time always has a way of making things feel more heavy, especially these days. But "I’d Die for You" has become the most important song to sing and feel connected to because of the tornado, and the cancellation that's happening, and people everywhere all over America unemployed and without health insurance. The racism and the division all that’s kind of spinning around. But Jeremy and I wrote that song for each other and for our children.

Certain songs on here are really cathartic to listen to now even if they were written way long ago. Something like "Twinkle Twinkle," where you’re singing "In the good old days, things weren’t really all that good," has me how all these coronavirus deniers will eventually go on to romanticize this period.

Oh, without a doubt. I was talking about that earlier with somebody, about how everything seems like it’s changed but really, all of the fear, and the hate, and the racism those things were all there,  just below the surface. I don't know when we’re going to be able to live the way that we did with, you know, human contact and hugs and stuff like that .

Somehow we got to the point where hugs are in question.

But don’t even come at me with that hand and I've really perfected my handshake.

On "Stone Me" you could be singing about toxic men, or fame, or the completely divided state of society all at once, and maybe those things are inherently connected.

Yeah, it has a double meaning for me. When I first wrote it was about a personal relationship, and the things that happen when you get put up on a pedestal, and then people immediately want to knock you down, and I let it all roll off my back. But it’s very cathartic to write a song. I don’t even ever have to say who it’s about specifically, because it’s about so many people that I've known.

A lot of country artists address things like growing up poor, but they're so associated with conservatism that you get the sense they expect it’s like, just part of dues to be paid. But you sing things like "Pay Gap" that are actually about changing that.

Oh, without a doubt. I mean, that song probably cost me a lot of fans. I had so many people try to argue with me and tell me it’s a myth. As a citizen I have every right to think about the things that affect me and we're all in it together no matter what side of the fence you're on. Everybody wants the same damn thing, food on the table. To would be able to be taken care of when you're sick.

This year is really the test case for that, because you’d think everyone would be able to agree that, like, we all want to be alive, and doing some things that are not too difficult in order to lower that risk. The rebellion against that is really surreal. Have you already begun writing new songs?

My husband’s got an entire album that he’s written. I have, like, starts of songs… I don’t know, six or seven things I'm working on. And then I’ve just been writing and journaling more. It’s important to write your memoir while everything’s still fresh on your mind. Especially now with not being able to go to shows. I’m like thinking back to specific memories and things that happened and just saving it all for a rainy day.

Do you have any plans for live shows again?

I’m really wanting to do these drive-in theater shows. I think that would be super cool. It would be a great way to start back and feel like things are at a safe distance, but who knows what the future holds. I'm just dreaming about a day when I can like, bodysurf across the crowd again. That’s gonna be a long time.

What have you been listening to while you’re stuck at home?

I have been addicted to this new Swamp Dogg record, Sorry You Couldn’t Make It.

I love Swamp Dogg, I actually just ordered reissues of Gag a Maggot and Total Destruction to Your Mind last month.

Yeah, I mean, "Synthetic World"…there are just so many good songs on Total Destruction to Your Mind. Rat On! and that whole album cover. And then I realized that he was putting out this new record, and John Prine sings two duets on it which are amazing. It’s the last thing that John Prine ever recorded.

Wow, I didn’t realize it was the very last thing he ever did.

There's a song on there is called "Family Pain," and it's really cool, like a hip-hop track with a fiddle. I’ve also been listening to Run the Jewels.

I mean, speaking of catharsis…

Yeah, perfect time to put out a political rap album. And of course I’ve been diving super deep into the Bob Dylan and the Neil Young records; the fact that they came out on the same day was pretty spectacular.

If you do any more covers, I definitely vote for Swamp Dogg.

That's a great idea. And Swamp Dogg’s version of [Prine’s] "Sam Stone" is just killer. When I met John I was like, "So tell me about Swamp Dogg." You know they were buddies. It’s really cool to hear them on [2020’s] "Please Let Me Go Round Again." They just are riffing back and forth, really conversational improv. It cracks me up to listen to.

Now I’m gonna have to put that on after we hang up.

I hope you stay well and, yeah, see you next time we get out of this burning trash fire.

Liz Brasher Opens Up About Memphis, Mental Health & Her New "Sad Girl Status" Video

Grammys Newsletter

GRAMMYs

Shamir

News

Shamir Talks New Self-Titled Album, DMing With Mandy Moore & Being The Change He Wants To See

Facebook Twitter Email
The Las Vegas-born, Philly-based D.I.Y. luminary speaks to GRAMMY.com about managing his own music career and "reintroducing myself in an accessible way"
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Oct 6, 2020 - 11:39 am

When Shamir Bailey first showed up in music circles, he was barely out of his teens. The year was 2015, he was living in New York and interning at the "indie-major" label XL Recordings, where he'd even been signed. "I was on a fast track of being a major mainstream pop star," he tells GRAMMY.com in a phone call from his home in Philadelphia. That year, Shamir released the critically beloved debut, Ratchet—a bouncy-ball collection of electro-pop cuts, all topped off with Shamir's cheeky, countertenor vocals. 

Five years later, Shamir is in a markedly different place—musically, spiritually, emotionally. Splitting from XL in 2017, citing creative differences, Shamir self-released a handful of genre-jumping records: 2017's Hope and Revelations, 2018's Resolution, 2019's Be The Yee, Here Comes The Haw, 2020's Cataclysm. Last year, he launched his own label, Accidental Popstar, which incubates and develops burgeoning talent and is home to D.I.Y. performers Southwick, Grant Pavol and Poolblood. 

Now, Shamir has released his latest work, a just-released self-titled album, which serves as a re-entry of sorts into the mainstream music zeitgeist and is, as he said in his publicity materials, "the record that's most me."

Borrowing influences from a range of genres—punk, country, dance and, of course, pop—the self-released Shamir brings the 25-year-old's career full circle with its instantly catchy arrangements, authentic artistry and candid indifference for whatever the music industry thought he should be. 

GRAMMY.com called Shamir up to chat about his latest release, what going independent has taught him as an artist and the best advice he received from one of his heroes: Mandy Moore.

I love the new album, and I'm excited to talk to you about it. You had gone back to Vegas, but now you're in Philly. Is that correct?

I went back to Vegas for... I want to say four months after New York, because I didn't like it. But other than that, I've been in Philly since 2015. I was just basically homeless most of 2015 because I was touring Ratchet nonstop and didn't have a break until the end of 2015. But most of 2015, I knew that I was going to be in Philly. I just loved Philly. I've been here ever since.

I've the always gotten the sense that Philly is a little bit more of a rewarding community for artists and musicians, where New York can be… Well, it's its own kind of stress. Did you found that to be the case?

Yeah. When I came to New York, I was definitely welcome for the music scene. I was living and working at Silent Barn, but I just like how casual the Philly scene was, and how no one was trying to be famous. Everyone was just trying to have fun [and] share music, and it there was no pretension behind it at all whatsoever. And I'm like, "This is me. This is where I'm meant to be."

In many of the interviews I’ve read with you this year, you’ve spoken about being introverted and how that factors into quarantine life. When you look ahead into spending the coming months in quarantine, as a musician, how does that sit with you?

I don't know. I really want to tour. I often like to give myself hiatuses between touring, just to preserve my mental health. I was really ready to go back on the road this year. This is the longest I've ever gone without touring at all. It definitely just the longest I've ever gone just a show, because I still did one-offs last year. But other than that, I'm chilling, like I said. It's really not too different from my normal life, especially since all of my closest friends live in different cities and states, maybe countries. I’m still staying up in their life, digitally.

I’d love to spend some time talking about your transition from working with a major indie label to releasing music independently. What has been the most profound thing that you’ve learned from that journey?

I don't know. I think it's harder for me to say, because I've always felt it was deeply important to be as savvy on the industry and business side of music, as that's the most important for me. From the beginning, I worked on things behind the scenes. A lot of people don't know, during the Ratchet era, I was managing a band and interning at XL as well.

I think if anything, because of that, it made the transition fairly easy for me. I think, for me, it was just better once I started to do things independently in a way, because it's not playing a game of telephone. I think working with a label was like playing a game of telephone, and it's constantly having to explain yourself and set the truth and try to get everyone else on the same mindset that you're on. Which I'm better at now because of the years of experience. But I think, at the beginning, that was just very hard for me. And also, I was just very young and not confident. So, if I wasn't heard, I would just stand down.

Other than that, I think I've had a bit more freedom, and it's been easier. But it's obviously a lot more work, because you're doing everything yourself. You're doing the marketing. I have a publicist, thank God, but you're finding the right publicist for you. But, like I said, I was lucky to have a lot of those connections and understand a lot of that, but I made sure I could.

If you didn't go into artistry itself, what side of the business was interesting to you?

I think A&R and artist development.

That’s really interesting. Starting out as young as you did—that can be an age where you can envision yourself doing multiple things in an industry. You’re just trying to figure out what works for you.

Yeah. I realized artist development worked best. At first, I thought maybe managing, but I was managing up-and-coming artists, and I realized that I was mostly developing them, and the managing side of things, I actually hated. So yeah, even just less than A&R-ing, even though A&R-ers typically are supposed to help develop an artist.

I think because the industry wants fully formed artists these days, A&R is just maybe fewer artists, it's a producer or two, and help with the funding of the record and making sure all of that is intact. But I also like just working with raw material and just helping the artists build off of what's already within them, but just put it in a pretty bottle.

So, when you're developing artists via Accidental Popstar, what do you look for when you bring someone into that network?

First, I'd have a relationship with them, realistically. Everyone that I work was on the label, I have a really deep relationship what. Grant Pavol, I've known him since he was 16. I've been friends with Southwick for the longest, before we started working together, and actually met Paige five years ago when she was interning at NPR. You can actually see her at my Tiny Desk session, when everyone was sitting around me, and then we reconnected a few years later. I was just like, "Hi, nice to meet you." She was like, "We've actually met."

So yeah, I think I have to know the artists inside and out, not even just as an artist, but as a person as well, just so I'm aware of their boundaries. I think the industry in general, when working with artists, doesn’t try to do the work to understand the artist as a person. And so, because of that, they have a very one- or two-dimensional idea of the artist. And I think you have to know the artist as a person as well to get a full scope of who they are as an artist.

To circle back to something that you talked a little bit about in your Billboard interview, you said that were definitely open and hopeful when it comes to perhaps joining a major in the future, now that you have a more well-rounded idea of how the machine works. And part of that is because you want to see a more diverse, intersectional artist roster. Are there any majors—or really any labels at all out there—that you think are doing something right in terms of artist diversity?

Well, I'm not really sure. I have friends that work at majors, but I think for the most part, just being in Philly also has kept me in this bubble away from the majors, which was kind of the point. I came here to focus on myself and my art, and I just also love it as well.

I think now I'm really planning to get an idea of all of the different majors and specifically what they can offer, and specifically what they can offer me. Right now, I'm talking to someone from a major label, and she's been answering every question I have and letting things work, and blah, blah, blah. So, I don't know, I can't really say off the bat specifically any names, but I'm definitely in that process of dwindling down what makes the most sense.

Yeah, we’re living in a time where the industry at large is promising to do better, from a diversity standpoint. Have you seen anything from anyone—whether it’s a company or a specific person—that inspires confidence in you?

Yeah, I'm taking everything with a grain of salt. That's the only reason why I'm even caring about or coming back to reintroducing myself in an accessible way. At the beginning, I was on a fast track of being a major mainstream pop star. But that wasn't necessarily my dream at the time. Maybe not even still now. I just guess I feel more well equipped for it now. But I was like, "I'll step down, and then there would be another black, queer, genderqueer pop star." Right? There has to be. I made such a huge mark. People are literally copying me. People are literally ripping me off. It must happen. And it didn't, and that frustrated me. And so, it's like, "You got to be the change you want to see in the world." I was blessed with this platform, and it never really wavered. So, it would be selfish of me, at this point, not to fully go for it. Do you know what I mean?

Yes, absolutely. Switching gears to the album itself—Shamir experiments with dance, pop, grunge, country, punk. And you’ve said that this the truest representation of you, musically.

Yeah. I finally was able to mix all of those genres in. Does it feel like you're getting whipped?

No, it feels really balanced.

Yeah. That's what I'm most proud of, honestly. It's not so much that it's so different than anything that I've been doing—it's focused, it's super highly focused to the point where I'm able to hit every element without it feeling overwhelming. And I think that's just really it. And so, in that way, it just feels the most me, because it's the most digestible me I think I've been since ever, honestly. I think even in a lot of ways, it's more accessible than even Ratchet, because I think a lot of weird-ass heavy electronic production looks weird in Ratchet.

It's hard to strike that balance, but you make it look easy.

Thank you. Again, this is the longest I've ever worked on a record. Normally, as you've seen in the past, I like to just write the songs, record the songs, put them out there. And this was the first time... even since Ratchet. Ratchet was done very quickly. This is the first time where I wrote the song and let them breathe for a year.

There’s a line that stuck out to me in the single "On My Own." The refrain, "And I don't care to feel like I belong, but you always did." Is that referring to feeling fundamentally out of sync with a partner?

Exactly. I think the song is very generalized, but I think that one specific line is just to that person. To the person, I was like, "Yes. You." They weren't necessarily vain, and I don't think they necessarily felt they need to keep up with the Joneses, but I think they felt the need not to stand out. You know what I mean? And I don't like that. I think that's worse to keeping up with the Joneses to me in a way, because I think... The person was white, I'm just going to say that, but I think there is a certain amount of privilege to being able to still be taken seriously, but also being modest. I think I don't have the privilege [to be] modest, because then I'll just be not heard. You know what I mean? Therefore, I can't be modest, and I think a lack of modesty probably was a lot for that person. 

That's frustrating. And then you might not feel seen.

Well, it's not so much that not even just don't feel seen; it's just like, "This is how I have to navigate, I'm sorry. I've gotten everything that I've gotten right now because I have to navigate like this." I'd rather not. I just think that I'm a low-key person, I'm super introverted, I'm laid-back. I'd rather not, realistically, but I have to.

I was curious—you put out another record, Cataclysm, in March of this year. How did those overlap with each other in terms of the actual writing and recording?

I think Cataclysm, honestly, is very not pop production-wise. It’s very grungy and very fuzzy and very all of those things, but I think some of the best pop songwriting that I've done. There are some songs on there I think that are even poppier than stuff that's on Shamir, but that was the point of Cataclysm. It was supposed to be this very dirtied pop record, because the songs were so very pop and straightforward. So, in that way, that's how they coincide. And often, everyone's just really gravitated towards it as well, because I think I've made the record to sound like the end of the world. I think a lot of people are resonating with that, and I wanted it to sound like an old tape that you found in the ruins of the mess.

Cataclysm wasn't supposed to come out, and when lockdown hit, I was like, "I guess the world needs it." I actually had shot Cataclysm, and I think no one really got it. It's supposed to sound like this. Also, the record is completely a mono as well. It's so weird production-wise, and I'm like, "Yes. It's supposed to sound monochromatic." Yeah, I think it was just timing. I think the universe was just like, "Now. It's supposed to be for now."

On a lighter note, I was excited that you got to interview Mandy Moore for Billboard.

Oh my God!

How did that come together? Did the editors set you guys up, or had you put in a specific request?

No, the editors set us up. I've been talking about how much I love Mandy Moore my entire career, first and foremost. It all started with the Pitchfork Over/Under piece.

Yeah. It's so funny, and honestly ridiculous. But when they came up with the questions, they have to have gone through my Twitter, which I think I've mentioned in the video, because right before that, I had talked about how much I loved Mandy Moore and specifically Wild Hope. I'm not sure if I single-handedly helped us, but at the time, it wasn't on streaming, but then magically, I want to say two years later, it was. So, I don't know if I single-handedly threw the first brick, but I like to think I did.

And I just didn't think anything of it. And then because they mentioned it in the video, everyone started talking about Mandy again, and then she got on that huge show, on This Is Us, and then there was this whole new resurgence of Mandy Moore. And during that time, we actually followed each other, because she had saw the video, and she's like, "Oh, I don't know." So, we had already been internet friends, at least, for the longest. And then she actually specifically hit me up when "On My Own" came out, and was just like, "I love this song," and everything. Actually, we were DMing yesterday. I love Mandy. She's just the best, she's so sweet, and is just genuinely invested in my career.

Has she given you any career advice, whether in the interview or outside of it, that’s really stuck with you?

I can't even really pick out anything specifically, because that whole specific interview was just giving advice to younger people in the industry. I asked her about balancing acting and music, because I definitely want to get more into acting. She kind of confirmed what I [had] already been feeling. A lot of these things, you just have to go with the flow. You can't do it all at once. Just really, really pace yourself. That's what I've been trying to do. As much as I want to like do it all, I have to cut out time and pace myself.

Quarantine Diaries: Peppermint Is Releasing "Best Sex," Filming 'A Girl Like Me' & Staying In Touch With Fans

GRAMMYs

Joan Osborne

Photo by Jeff Fasano

News

Joan Osborne Talks Getting Political On 'Trouble And Strife,' Singing Jerry Garcia Songs With Phil & Friends And More

Facebook Twitter Email
The GRAMMY-nominated "One Of Us" singer opens up about the "all-hands-on-deck moment" that led her to address current events on her latest LP
Will Schube
GRAMMYs
Sep 17, 2020 - 9:18 am

Joan Osborne is one of those artists you’ve heard before even if you’ve never actively searched for her music. Her song, "One Of Us," written by collaborator Eric Bazilian, is one of those songs that transcends time, space, and individuals. It’s catchy and powerful, and landed Osborne three GRAMMY nominations. Not bad for her first single from her debut LP. Though Osborne, born in Kentucky but residing in New York, has never penned a song as culturally captivating as "One Of Us," her career is a sterling example of craftsmanship and dedication to superior songwriting.

Osborne plays with a number of genres, and on her new LP, Trouble and Strife, she bounces from Americana to bar rock to pop with ease and style. Though the album is her boldest political statement to date, she wanted to blend the serious moments, like the powerful immigration tale, "What’s That You Say," with moments of optimism and celebration. "I really wanted to make this record a fun and joyful album and something you could dance to," she explained to GRAMMY.com. "It's about staying connected with your joy and allowing that to lift you up," she added. As the world continues to crack and we fall under the weight of it, Osborne hopes to be a source of positivity and hope. Though songs like "Hands Off" deal with the prevalent corruption of our modern era, "Never Get Tired (Of Loving You)" is a heartwarming ode to her daughter, and "Boy Don’t You Know" wraps themes of female empowerment and misogyny in society around warm piano chords and silky guitar runs.

Though Osborne's songwriting is subtler and more nuanced than her defining hit, her voice continues to be a revelation. From her days of singing Jerry Garcia songs in the Grateful Dead after the legend passed away to her Bob Dylan covers album from 2017, Osborne continually displays why her vocals are some of the most iconic in modern rock ‘n’ roll. Trouble And Strife is another example of her power and dexterity, a beautiful encapsulation of our times, warts and all.

What is it like releasing a political (and fun) album in this particular cultural climate?

Because of the pandemic, the process that we would normally be going through to release a record and support a record is, of course, different because we can't do any live shows. We can't go to any radio stations in person, and we're limited with the amount of stuff that we can do to promote the record. We're, of course, doing a lot of phone interviews and Zoom interviews and things like that remotely to be safe, but it's not the same as going on a tour and playing your songs in front of audiences and stuff like that. It feels a little weird, a little abstract in that way.

This is not a good thing, but I feel like the record, being a very political record or at least the most political record that I've ever released, it feels like there's an audience that's going to be receptive to it. That's the response that we're getting. People are saying that they're happy to have music that is addressing what's going on in the world. It makes them feel less alone and it can be a useful thing to help to navigate this particular moment. That's gratifying. I'm not happy for the reasons behind it being so relevant, but I'm happy that people are responding to it in that way.

When you are interacting with moments to inspire your songs, like "Hands Off," is it draining being inundated by negativity and awful things happening all around us?

It can be very difficult to navigate a time like this. Every day seems to bring some new crisis and some new disaster. If you have kids, you're thinking about the world that you're going to leave to them. That's a difficult thing just as a person and as a citizen. But as a writer, it lights a fire under you and gives you a lot of energy to put the things that you're thinking and feeling into your music. There's a real urgency that I've felt about having songs like this that address this current moment. It gives you a real push in that direction of trying to wrestle with this moment in a creative way.

Having the platform to be able to illuminate a story like on "What's That You Say," is so important, too. Can you talk about how that song came about?

I'm dismayed by the immigration conversation that's going on in this country right now. I believe that America is great because it's a country of immigrants and because of the mix of all the different cultures and artistic traditions that different groups of immigrants have brought with them. That's why American culture is so fascinating. People bring their different traditions with them and then those different traditions and styles have mixed together and created brand-new forms of art in this country. I think that's part of what makes us an amazing country.

I wanted to write something about a person who has come here and brought the best of themselves to this country and really contributed. And so I wrote this song, "What's That You Say," about this character. There were these moments in the song that were instrumental passages that didn't have lyrics and there wasn't singing. I kept hearing a spoken voice in those passages. I thought, well, why don't I turn the mic over, so to speak, to someone who has actually lived this immigrant journey? That's another thing that frustrates me so much about this issue, is that we talk a lot about immigrants and immigration, but I don't hear a lot of people listening to actual immigrants. I don't hear their stories that much. That's very frustrating for me.

I felt like this would be an opportunity to allow somebody to talk about their experience, someone who's actually lived this experience. I can come at it from an artistic perspective and try to have some connection to someone else's story, but no one's going to tell it like someone who's lived it. That's when I approached this organization called RAICES. I've been aware of the work that they're doing at the southern border, trying to help people who are attempting to immigrate to the U.S. from Central America and Mexico and people who are trying to navigate this really dehumanizing system that is in place at the border and helping them with their legal applications for asylum and things like that.

I called them up and I said, "I'm really a fan of the work that you're doing," and I told them about the song and I asked them if they knew someone who might be interested in telling their story to become a part of this song. They introduced me to Ana Maria Rea-Ventre. She is very much the kind of person that this song is written about. She's someone who came to America as a child and has lived the rest of her life here and has been someone who's contributed to her community. She's this shining light to the people around her. She agreed to tell her story.

When your songs began to take a political angle, did you watch what was happening in the world and think to yourself, "I need to make my next album a certain way"? Or had you already started writing and that's just the way that the songs were taking shape?

It's a little bit of both. I wrote these songs in a big rush in 2018. It was before the most recent disasters, but this has certainly been a rough four years. These things were on my mind and a lot of ideas for songs about the current state of our country and of the world kept coming to me. I feel a responsibility as a citizen, a parent, and an artist to try to do what I can to effect some positive change. As they say, "It's an all-hands-on-deck moment." None of us, I don't think, have the luxury to just sit back and watch it unfold. We have to participate.

There’s a cautious optimism that prevails over the entire album. Is that something you really had to work towards? Or is that your MO as a person?

I've been reading a lot of this writer, Sarah Kendzior. She was one of the people who believed that Donald Trump was going to win the presidency. She's an expert on authoritarian governments and she's brilliant. I don't think I can quote her directly, but she said something about, "I'm not an optimist and I'm not a pessimist. I believe that we have to do the work that we have to do, whether we know what the outcome is going to be or not. There's no guarantee that the work that we have to do is going to bring about the change that we want, but we have to do it anyway."

With the revitalization of the Grateful Dead in this modern era, your time playing with Phil & Friends is particularly relevant. Do you have any fond memories from that era?

I was able to work with the Dead after Jerry Garcia passed away and went on a big tour with them. Then I went on a bunch of tours with Phil Lesh & Friends since then and have a real lengthy connection with those guys and with that music. It's a really interesting phenomenon because you have the Grateful Dead and you have their fan base and then you have this larger jam band scene that has spun off from the Dead and from that world.

I have so many memories. I think I was very nervous before my first handful of shows because I sang a lot of the Jerry songs and I felt like, "Wow, is this audience going to accept me? This girl singer doing these songs or are they not going to accept me?" But the audience was very welcoming. I remember it was my birthday and we were playing part of a five-night stand at Red Rocks in Colorado. I got to sing "Stella Blue" in that beautiful setting. There was this gorgeous moon and it was a clear night and it was just one of those moments where you could have heard a pin drop. The song is so delicate and so emotional and it was this moment that's now frozen in my mind. It's this pure, beautiful moment of being on stage with those guys and performing that song in front of that audience in that beautiful space. It was really transcendent.

"Hack The Planet!" An Oral History Of Hackers' Soundtrack & Score

Grammys Newsletter

GRAMMYs

Brandon Stansell

Photo by Spencer & Lloyd Harvey

News

Brandon Stansell Talks Emotional Documentary, 'Three Chords And A Lie'

Facebook Twitter Email
The Tennessee singer/songwriter talks to GRAMMY.com about capturing the return to his hometown of Chattanooga and the importance of LGBTQ+ representation in country music
Jason Scott
GRAMMYs
Aug 26, 2020 - 9:51 am

"You can hide your scars, ignore your pain / But it all comes out in other ways," weeps Brandon Stansell. An openly gay country star, the Tennessee native first came out when he was 22, and the fallout within his very strict, Southern Baptist family sent him on a path many queer individuals know all too well. While he had already been living on his own at the time, studying at Belmont University, he quickly realized that family is often not defined by blood alone.

With "Hurt People," the title cut to his new EP, Stansell invites the listener to hear his story and fully understand the scope of brokenness out of which he still climbs. "I knew they wouldn't understand, but I told them anyway / And 10 years later, I'm still waiting for time to heal this pain," he sings. "My daddy said I want you to know that we're not proud of you / So, I left home all on my own just like hurt people do."

Stansell draws from a very deep well of pain. Across his four-song Hurt People EP, he wrestles with an upbringing rooted in faith, longing for what could have been ("Like Us"), and finding his own kind of light. Accompanying the project, Stansell, in partnership with OUTtv, returned to his hometown to play his first-ever show there and film a documentary. Three Chords And A Lie features commentary and insight from CMT’s Cody Alan, songwriter Jeffrey James, performer Shelly Fairchild, and various young people from Nashville’s Launch Pad, an initiative to assist homeless youth in the community, particularly LGBTQ+.

"It feels crazy to finally have it out into the world. It was almost a year-ago since we shot the documentary," Stansell recently told GRAMMY.com. "I guess because the world has felt stagnant, it feels like we just did it."

The documentary, filmed in October 2019, doesn’t sugarcoat the truth about coming out in many parts of America ─ depicting some truly heart-wrenching moments in his story. Stansell never shies away from discussing his family, their reactions to his coming out, and the ongoing struggle for self-worth. What is also truly admirable is his willingness to be open and honest on-camera, even leaving in an emotional breakdown while rehearsing with his acoustic guitar.

Below, Brandon Stansell spoke with us about his journey, the new documentary (which premiered Sunday, August 23 at Out Fest), conversion therapy, representation and what's next.

When did you get the idea to film a documentary about your story?

I started writing the EP last May. I had ideas for the project, and I vacillated between doing what I considered a more traditional route where you would pepper songs like "Hurt People" and "People Like Us" across multiple projects so it doesn’t feel like the hammer is falling when you listen to them all in a row. Once I had everything written, OutTV approached me about doing this documentary, and it wasn’t anything I ever thought I would do. With the music I was writing, and the timing of everything, it felt like I was writing this music for a purpose. And it was this purpose. It all felt right to put into one EP. It’s better that way. I have a real passion for talking and writing about queer stories in country music, and you really get that sense when you hear these songs back to back. It doesn’t just feel like a little piece of you. These things have fundamentally changed my life and shaped me into the person I am.

What did you ultimately learn through this documentary process?

I was going through this process of being very hesitant to put this music and documentary out and then just being really ready to go. I obviously shied away from it because it was very personal for me. It’s my life. It’s not a persona or a mask. It’s my world and relationships, and it’s hard for me to allow everyone to have a window into that world. I didn’t really know how else to engender that conversation without talking very specifically and personally about my own experiences. The responses I’ve gotten so far have been ─ I guess I didn’t know what to expect ─ on the positive side of what I hoped for, and that was people feeling like they finally had a voice from someone who had gone through experiences they’d gone through. And they were okay. It didn’t kill them or ruin their lives. We can have these shared experiences, as hard as they are, and still be okay, and better than okay. We can do great things in the world, pursue our dreams, and do all the things we ever wanted to.

"Ever since I came out, I decided that I was going to go and try to pave a path for people like me and use my experiences to make that an easier path to take."

For a lot of queer people, and specifically for me, I always wanted to be a singer and songwriter. I didn’t think these would be the things I would write about. I don’t think anyone hoped for that, but when I came out, I had an experience that fundamentally changed me. It’s just part of my story now and because I see it reflected in kids across the country, I thought it was important for me to share in an effort to help people feel not so alone and to help families with people like me know what this process is like. It can be good or it can be bad, depending on how you react. That’s my hope for the project.

You've said you didn’t want to sugarcoat the truth about your experiences. In one particularly moving moment, you break down while playing guitar. Did you have any reservations about showing such raw vulnerability and pain?

I think anyone that is putting themselves into a public view wants to portray themselves in the very best way they can. You don’t take an ugly picture of yourself and go, "Oh, I can’t wait for the world to see!" [Laughs.] It’s just not the natural thing to do. But I realized that there’s more important things going on than how I am personally perceived. That is the thread that runs through this entire documentary. There are so many people in this world that have these shared common experiences but for one reason or another, we get shamed into not telling our experiences, and we can’t ever grow from that. We can’t ever be better if we don’t talk about the things that have happened. At some point, I had to look at scenes like that breakdown and realize that I don’t look great, no, and makes me look like a complete mess, yes ─ but can it/could it help someone, yes! I think it could. So, it’s worth it. That’s what I had to lean into.

In the documentary, you also mention conversion therapy and how "they think they’re doing the right thing." From your perspective, how has such religious beliefs led to such extreme ways of thinking?

Thankfully, specific states in this country are coming to their senses in that conversaion therapy is nothing more than child abuse. It is emotional abuse. Just plain and simple. No matter which way you cut it or what techniques you use, you’re trying to convince a person that what they are is wrong and bad and needs to be fixed. That is emotionally scarring to anyone who goes through such "therapy." When I was coming out, the people in my world wanted me to do that. There were a few Christian conversion therapy camps, including the Exodus Ministry and Love Wins Out, and thankfully at that point in my life, I had the foresight to know it was only going to make things worse for me. My only reason for wanting to do anything like that was not so I would not be gay anymore but so I could stay connected to my family.

Now, looking back, we're 10 years past that and a lot of these places have closed down. Some states have banned this kind of therapy. It’s part of my story, so I talk about it. It still exists in places, and some people still consider it to be a legitimate thing. And it’s not and shouldn’t be.

You and your mother share an embrace at the very end. Have you found this documentary to be an important step forward for your relationship?

My goal was that this would facilitate healing. It has been a conversation I don’t think we could have otherwise had. It’s done good in my space. I have stepped back and said, "There’s nothing I can do to change the minds of people I love. I can’t do that. I can only control and me and my world." Ever since I came out, I decided that I was going to go and try to pave a path for people like me and use my experiences to make that an easier path to take. If any of them want to come along for the ride at some point, I’m open arms. That’s kind of where I’ve always been and where I am now.

Nearly two years following the groundbreaking CMT premiere for your "Hometown" video, has there been a weight of responsibility for you as you've moved forward?

I don’t feel a weight on me. I have only felt that my only responsibility is to be authentic to who I am and share my story as honestly as I can. I feel like I’ve done those things. I don’t know what people expect of me, but I think that what I can say is that I’m going to continue doing the things I’ve always done, which is make music I think people will want to listen to and is reflective of me and proud of. That’s been my road from the beginning and where I see myself continuing to go.

You've also spoken on the importance of representation, noting you didn't have that growing up watching CMT music videos. What's it been like for people to reach out to you now with the understanding you’re giving them that bridge?

You know, it’s been different over the years. When that video came out, the one story that’s stuck in my head is I had a guy message me, saying, “I saw your video and sent it to my mother. She called me, and I got the apology I never thought I could ever get from her.” It was such a weird, full-circle moment because I wrote that song out of a pretty deep, personal place and shelved it for a long time. I didn’t think anyone would be able to find themselves in it. When I finally put it out, I realized that not only did so many other people find themselves in the lyrics, but it was something that was being used as a tool to start bridging the gap. It made me proud of the work and wanting to do more.

Do you think mainstream country music will ever see an out gay superstar?

Yes, I do. I've said for years that people are more open than we give them credit. We just have to give them the chance to show us. Ever since I started making music, I have had nothing but good things said about me and to me. I think with the work that we’re doing ─ queer people, women, and people of color ─ in country music, we’re setting the stage for anyone who has a dream of being a superstar in this genre will be able to with no inhibitions. They will be able to see themselves, from the time they’re little kids to making moves. And that’s exciting. I grew up watching and loving CMT. I would dance around in the basement to Jamie O'Neal's "When I Think About Angels." I love that station, but I also knew I was gay when I was six. So, I lived in this split world where I wanted to so much be a part of this country world, but somewhere in me I didn’t know if that would be able to happen. I think it’ll happen, as soon as people start feeling like they’re represented in the genre.

Have you already been writing for the next project?

It’s pretty much written. I’m excited about the new project, because it’s upbeat and fun. So… it’s different. [Laughs.] It’s going to be another EP. We’re currently vacillating between a five- or six-song EP, but we’ve already started working on it. I’ve been recording through quarantine and doing scratch vocals on an iPhone. It’s been an experience. I’ve been doing some writing by myself and then some Skype writing, which I had done before since I’ve been living on the West Coast for six-plus years now. I would Skype write with people in Nashville all the time. It didn’t really feel like anything too new to me.

Brandon Stansell Takes Us To His "Hometown" In Special Pride Month Edition Of Press Play

Grammys Newsletter

GRAMMYs

Rita Wilson

Photo by Robert Trachtenberg

News

Rita Wilson On Bold Country Songwriting, Emotional Labor & Rapping To Naughty By Nature

Facebook Twitter Email
The actress, producer and singer/songwriter is done talking about coronavirus and ready to get back to her first love: music
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Jul 29, 2020 - 1:01 pm

Rita Wilson is sick of talking about being sick. As the first public figure to be diagnosed with Covid-19 back in March (along with her husband Tom Hanks), the actress, producer and singer/songwriter probably hasn't been able to escape questions about the mysterious illness, which, in 2020, exploded to pandemic levels and has more or less shut down the entire entertainment industry. 

What Wilson would much rather chat about, understandably, is the music she's released this year—gorgeous, gentle acoustic ballads that recall her greatest influences: pop-country trailblazers like Dolly Parton, Jessi Colter and Bobbie Gentry. Though she only just released her fourth studio LP Halfway To Home in 2019, Wilson has kept busy: recently she unveiled the single "Everybody Cries," which accompanies the Rod Lurie war drama The Outpost. She also dropped the poignant "Where's My Country Song," which pays tribute to the "women out there quietly doing jobs that sometimes we just are aware of, but we aren't really paying attention to," as she tells GRAMMY.com. 

You may have also caught Wilson in a recent viral video, where she's expertly rapping to Naughty By Nature's 1992 hip-hop classic "Hip Hop Hurray." Though it was originally something she had to practice for a part in a movie, the video was so popular that Wilson teamed up with Naughty By Nature for a remix, with profits being donated to MusiCares' Coronavirus Relief Fund. Once touring is allowed to resume, she says, you should definitely expect to see her perform "Hip Hop Hurray" live with the trio. 

Below, Wilson opens up about her most recent musical endeavours, what draws her to the country genre and how "Where's My Country Song" ties into a larger conversation about women's emotional labor. 

You recently released the single "Everybody Cries," which appeared in the film The Outpost. Was that song written specifically for movie?

Yes, it was. How it happened was the director Rod Lurie reached out to me because he had heard other previous albums that I had done and felt that the movie needed a female voice and he felt that it might be possible to fulfill that vision, which was really an honor.

I was able to see a little bit of the film because the song is used in the body of the movie. And then again, later in the end credits. I think [Lurie] also was looking for a female perspective on things. What was absolutely so sad was that when Rod was doing the movie, he lost his son, and here he is doing a movie about these young men who lost their lives. And I think that very much connected him to the story on an even deeper level. And then what I responded to was just being a mom [myself]. You raise these children, whether they're male or female or whatever gender they identify with, and you try to make them good and courageous and strong people. You try to keep them safe. And then at 18 they can make their own decisions and their own choices.

When you think of all the service men and women who have given their lives for our country and for our freedom for our democracy, I also think about the mothers and wives and daughters who had to say goodbye to their loved ones, just sending them off to serve.

I think the movie is really beautiful and I'm really so, so grateful to be a part of, of it in any way, particularly with this song.

It is a really beautiful song. Speaking of songs written specifically to showcase the female perspective, I also enjoy your recent single "Where’s My Country Song." The way it describes the average working woman’s experience, it reminds me a little of Dolly Parton's "9 to 5."

That's a huge compliment. Thank you. I'll take that.

You’re welcome! You've said in previous interviews that this song was inspired by your mother. Do you feel like maybe it holds a special kind of resonance now?

Well, actually the original idea of the song was inspired by a single mom that I know who's working really hard and her mom helps her raise her kids. And then I started thinking about my mom because I could not have also raised my kids doing what I do without my mom and my dad. So many times, people will say things like "what do you do?" And I've heard women say, "Well, I'm just a mom and that's me." It's like what you should say‑I mean, I don't know what they should say‑but [as a mom] you are probably given the most important job of your life. You’re trying to raise these humans, good humans and put them in the world and carry on.

Then that led me to all the women that are out there quietly doing jobs that sometimes we just are aware of, but we aren't really paying attention to because they're the jobs that get us through our lives. Let's say it's somebody who's working in a warehouse or somebody who's working in an office for your bank or somebody who's working at a grocery store or somebody in agriculture, who's making sure our fruits and vegetables are brought to us. Then I read that during the pandemic and the COVID-19 crisis that 75% of essential workers are women. And you look at that and you say, okay, great. That is again, another example of how many important jobs women are tasked with.

And then I also think that aligned with not just country music, but all music, and movies, that women can sometimes be idealized and written about in a way that is wonderful, there's room for everything, but it's not the whole picture. So, I started thinking about, well, where's that song? Where's the song that is talking about those women? I just felt that I wanted to explore that and see what I could come up with.

And I had the title, "Where's My Country Song." I wrote it with Lee DeWyze who won “American Idol” a few years ago. [He’s] a really talented songwriter and an amazing singer. So that's how it evolved. It kind of was a stream of consciousness, and that's how songs happen. That's the crazy thing: I didn't think, “I'm going to set out to write this song.” But when I started looking at all the other women that are out there that don't get the sort of appreciation and sort of thanks and gratitude that they really should get.

Yeah, what's interesting about the essential worker conversation we’re having now is that there’s a lot of performative thanking and acting grateful—billboards, TV commercials and stuff—but what these women really need is a living wage, quality health insurance in case they get sick and guaranteed childcare. They’re looking out for us—what choice do they have? But who is looking out for them?

Exactly. It's sort of like, well, when you look at what women did, even during World War II where they were really influential and important in terms of joining the workforce, when men were all fighting and then when everybody came back from the war, women were sort of displaced again and sort of like, "Okay, thanks for helping out then, but now go back to whatever you were doing." I know so many amazing women who do extraordinary things with so much of their lives and a lot of them just, I never really hear complaints. Women are sort of amazing in that way. They just get to it and do what's required without a lot of whining.

This also ties into the ongoing conversation about emotional labor, both in and out of the workplace. Have you read very much about that?

What does that mean? Emotional labor.

It's basically like all the unseen work that women do—in the house, as parents, in the workplace. For instance, in relationships, women tend to “manage” the household and “assign” chores to their partners.

Yes! Like, even if I am in a relationship, there's always somebody who's taking on the extra—let's call it home labor or emotional labor. But emotional labor to me says something like you are taking on not just the scheduling, but the wellbeing of people in your life.

Exactly. Or, in the workplace, women colleagues might be expected to organize a party if someone's having a birthday.

Oh, absolutely. I played a character on "The Good Wife." And she was a killer lawyer, killer litigator. And so, I went in my research in killer litigators. This thing came up that I thought was just mind-boggling, which was, this amazing lawyer said that, even though she won all of her cases and she was sought after and she was number one in her field, she still felt the need to bring cookies or cupcakes to a meeting. And that was her way of saying, "Don't be threatened by me. I'm just a woman who really just likes to bring sweets to you. I'd rather be doing that." Which I think is so... It's so crazy that women even have to think about that.

Speaking of roles, I know that you you've done music for a long time, but I think the first time I personally realized that was watching you play Marnie's mother on "Girls." You kind of hop on stage with her and try to salvage her own show.

So much fun.

Did you have any input on how your character would sing?

What I loved about that character was that she was such a narcissist and it didn't really matter if she was going to be embarrassing her daughter. It was just literally like, give me more attention. And so that's why that character was so much fun to play. And that gift that Lena Dunham gave me.

You also have a collaboration out right now with Jimmie Allen and Tauren Wells, "When This Is Over." How did that come about?

Jimmy’s an amazing artist. I became a fan of his just by hearing him on the radio. And then he reached out and said, "listen, I'm doing this collaborative EP. Do you want to be a part of it?" I said yes, not even knowing what the song was. And then he sent the song and I was like, "dang, this is a really good song!"

In terms of genre, your music is very much aligned with country. What draws you to country music? Who did you grow up listening to?

I was lucky enough to be exposed to all genres [and artists] when I was younger. The very first [artist that stuck out to me] was Bobbie Gentry because of "Ode to Billy Joe." That song was just a magical, mysterious, dark story that when you hear as a nine or ten-year-old or however old I was, when that song came out, it just grabbed you and sat you down at a chair and you couldn't move. You're like, what is going on in that bridge? Why are these people talking about black eyed peas? Somebody jumped off a bridge, like what? Go back to that story. What did I miss here?

And then secondly, Dolly Parton, because Dolly Parton was incredible. Jessi Colter, loved her. I don't know if you remember her, but she had that song "I'm Not Lisa." It's heartbreaking, it's so good.

Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson. And then later when I was older, the artists that I liked I guess would be kind of crossover artists like Linda Ronstadt, Emmylou Harris. When those three ladies—Emmylou, Dolly and Linda—did that trio, that was just like, oh my God, that was heaven. And then later on, of course, when females really dominated country music again, like Faith Hill and Shania Twain and Reba [McEntire] and Deana Carter, and the list goes on and on.

To me, it's always been about the story, the story in the song. And, of course, Tammy Wynette has to be mentioned because she really took chances. And Loretta Lynn, that was incredible. When Tammy Wynette was writing about divorce, but having to spell it out," D-I-V-O-R-C-E." And Loretta Lynn is singing about the pill. Now this is courageous and this is really bold, back in the day.

It's interesting, because I think it must have been so much harder to be that bold in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Because it's like, you're really going to be singing about this? And you're talking about country music. Applause to them for being so courageous.

Yeah, although the Pill and divorce would be potentially polarizing half a century ago, country music can still be an unfriendly environment for today’s divisive topics. I mean, look at the Chicks.

[The Chicks] never shied away from being political. And it's so crazy to me what happened to them and their career and where we are now, what people are saying, like what the... I don't even want to go there. I can't get political on this, but they were very brave.

While I have you, I’d love to ask you about your recent viral moment rapping Naughty By Nature’s "Hip Hop Hurray." Has anyone tried to get you to rap anything since then? You're very good at it!

Somebody reached out to me that I'm most likely going to do a collaboration [with].

I had to learn that song for a movie and it took me like a month to learn it. That was not an easy thing. And that's what is so major about Naughty By Nature: I learned so much from them about that genre and how difficult it is. It's really incredibly challenging. One thing that [Naughty By Nature] did say is that when we go on tour again, that they want to invite me on stage, and I'm going to. Oh yeah. I will be there rapping with Naughty By Nature.

Quarantine Diary: Louise Goffin Is Exercising, Taking Walks & Covering Cage The Elephant

Grammys Newsletter