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Yvonne Orji

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Yvonne Orji On Her First-Ever HBO Comedy Special, Faith & Celebrating Black Joy

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Quarantining from her home in Los Angeles, the Nigerian-American comedian spoke to GRAMMY.com about the overwhelmingly positive response around "Momma, I Made It!," her forthcoming memoir and much more
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Jul 8, 2020 - 9:33 am

Like her first-ever HBO comedy special states, Yvonne Orji has made it. The Nigerian-American actress and comedian has been on the come-up for a few years now, securing her first major role—sans agent!—in 2015 playing Issa Rae's best friend Molly Carter on HBO's smash hit "Insecure," which recently wrapped its fourth season. But what many fans of the show might not realize is that Orji has been on the comedy circuit since the mid-'00s, starting with a stand-up stint while competing in the Miss Nigeria in America pageant in 2006. From there, Orji, who also has a master's in Public Health from George Washington University, did stand-up at clubs in New York and Los Angeles and, in 2018, nabbed an opening slot for comedy king and GRAMMY winner Chris Rock.     

Now, Orji is enjoying a wave of praise for her very own televised special "Momma, I Made It!," which was released in June on HBO. Filmed at the Howard Theater in Washington, D.C., and partially in Orji's native Lagos, Orji spends the majority of her hour dropping hilarious anecdotes about her Nigerian-American experience, telling her mother she wanted to be a comedian ("I said, 'Momma, I want to do comedy'... SHE heard, 'So, you want to prostitute youself all about the world!'") and sharing her shock and delight at being able to set her bills to autopay.

Even though her parents have long since gotten on board with her comedy career, Orji jokes a lot that they'd be even happier if she'd just get married already. 

"It’s like, sure, they want me to be happy, but in the back of their mind they're also like, 'Can you be happy with a nice Nigerian man who's also possibly Ibo?' And I'm just like, 'I can't make any promises,'" Orji laughs over the phone.

Quarantining from her home in Los Angeles, Orji spoke to GRAMMY.com about the overwhelmingly positive response around "Momma, I Made It!," separating Yvonne the comedian from her very different "Insecure" character and why now—in the time of coronavirus and the Black Lives Matter movement—it's more important than ever to show and experience Black joy.

So, with the pandemic still going on, are you getting to spend lots of time in that house you talked about purchasing in "Momma, I Made It!"?

I am. And it's like the more time I spend in it, the more money I'm spending on it. It's so funny the things you notice when you're at home. You're like, "You know what? I should also... And I think I need to..." 

So, I'm definitely sinking more money into it. I'm hoping that I get to enjoy it, but high-key I feel like whoever buys this house from me is going to enjoy it in a very interesting way.

It seems like kind of a natural fit that you’d do a comedy special on HBO, given how you more or less have one foot in the door with "Insecure." When did HBO originally approach you to do this?

So, HBO had come out to see me, I want to say early 2018. I was opening up at Caroline's as part of the New York City Comedy Festival in 2018. We'd kind of been having the conversations and they wanted to see my [comedy] hour, etc. And then I think we'd gotten busy with filming ["Insecure"], etc. And then at the end of 2018, I also had another run in New York and they came out again. And that's when we were just like, "All right, I feel like you've seen the beginning of it. You've seen it 12 months afterwards." And so, they were like, "Okay, let's make this happen."

Oh wow, that much lead up?

Well, we did the deal in December 2018. [Then] I took 2019 off to write my book. And then we started filming “Insecure.” And so, we already knew that in 2020 I would do a tour and then we would shoot the special for the special to be released in 2020.

I looked at my schedule and I was like, the only time I could actually do a tour is this sliver of time between January and February. And I was like, "It's a winter tour. Why do I do this to myself?" I had no clue Corona would be happening—I was more worried about snow. Who knew a global pandemic was on the rise? So, yeah. It actually all worked out because then I was able to do a 13-city tour, finish it up in D.C. when I shot the special. And then they gave the [air] date of June because they were like, "’Insecure’'s going to be going. You have a built-in audience. We think it'd be great to happen around the same time—a summertime special." So, I'm like, "Okay, great."

[I] did not know the world would be burning, Black lives still needed to be mattering in the way that they are, we still need to be having that messaging of like, "Hey, Black lives still matter," and also, "Wear your mask." So, it was like so many things happening when the special came out. And I was, "All right. Is this a good time? What?"

Yeah, you must be experiencing an odd combination of feelings—because on one hand, streaming services like HBO are doing all they can to showcase content to amplify Black voices. But on the other hand, getting to this place has been incredibly traumatic, societally speaking. Not to mention, you’ve lost the ability to promote the special in-person.

Yeah. I understood HBO's strategy when they picked the date. And I was like, "Oh, 6/6. Great, yes." And I was like, "You're absolutely right. We'll be towards the end of the season. And it's going to be a great season. Hahaha." And then it was like, "Okay, Corona."

Prentice Penny, our showrunner, had his movie premiere [for Uncorked]. And he couldn't do South by Southwest and it was a letdown. He'd been building up to his directorial debut as a feature filmmaker. And I remember that moment of just being like, "Hey man, listen, you're going to have a captive audience. Everyone will be at home. It's going to be fine."

Slowly but surely, it was like, "Well, we can't do the talk shows. We can't do the press." I was like, "Oh my gosh. Okay. All right. Well, I can't be encouraging in this crisis and then be mad that I also got caught up in the whirlwind of things that couldn't happen in Corona." And so, I was like, "Okay, well, same thing applies." Penny’s movie became number one on Netflix because literally, everybody had finished watching everything else on Netflix. So, it was just like, "Well, at least the ratings will be good. People will be at home to see it."

And then the week of [my premiere], all the protests happened. George Floyd was murdered. The country was in a upheaval. And I was just like, "Yeah, no, this is very much different than “We can't go outside.” I don't know how to say, 'Hey guys, I know things look bleak. You just want to support me and watch my special?'" I was like, "No, there's no way to say that and not seem tone deaf and not seem... " And I was prepared. I was like, "This might just be a casualty of what it is."

And I saw “Insecure” come out in episode eight, which is the episode where Issa and Jay kind of melt all of our hearts and fall in love all over again. And just the response of that, people were like, "Man, we needed this 30 minutes. We needed to see Black love. We needed to laugh. We needed to see Black joy." And I was just like, "You know what? Rather than looking at it as a negative, we need levity." Trust me, America does not want Black people angry all the time because it's not going to end well for somebody, and it's not going to be Black people. And so, it's like in the midst of the process, in the midst of the fighting for justice, we need to take off the cape for just a second and laugh.

Black joy has been something that was always celebrated, was always necessary. And I think that's just the way that I chose to look at it. And leading up to it, I went through my phone and it was just very nostalgic for me really just to look at trips I had taken, things that made me laugh. I found this Instagram page that was just slides of Black people laughing. And I was like, "What are they doing?" and I just started laughing. So, I posted. I took three hours just posting a moment for Black joy. And I just was like, "From my moments of Black joy, from other people's moments of Black joy."

And then I talked to HBO and I was like, "Yo, we need to tell the world that Black joy is a form of activism as well." And so, we created that video of just all the things that Black joy is.

Speaking of “Insecure,” was it tricky to get the general public to separate you—Yvonne the comedian—from self-serious Molly?

It was so funny because this was definitely a very difficult season for Molly in terms of the fans' acceptance of her. They were not accepting. They were not here for me or my character. And so, it's funny because the trailer dropped about a month before and people were like, "Are we going to watch this?" or, "We going to support Yvonne because I can't not see her as Molly?" And I'm like, "Guys." And then you had this Twitter battle of people being like, "We have to learn to separate the actors from the roles they play." I was like, "Thank you." I was kind of letting the interwebs do their thing. And I think overall, I think the excitement of like, "Well, let's see what she gon' talk about." And there was that, "We didn't know the girl from ‘Insecure’ did comedy." And once people had the screeners, their response was like, "Wait. No, guys, you for real have to watch this." Questlove from The Roots was like, "I love this." And all the different outlets that we went out to saying, "No, this is a worthy watch," I think that also really helped.

And then when people did watch it, it was just kind of like, "Wait, we feel like we were transported to Nigeria. Yvonne's mom is the true star of the show. Can we get that whole entire outfit?" I think people were just discovering me in a way that they didn't even know they missed. They were just like, "I didn't even know that I needed this, but I'm glad I got it." [When people said] "I've watched this three to five times already," I'm like, "You have?" I was like, "Are you editing it? Because that's how many times I watched it while I was in the editing process."

Yeah, how did you feel watching yourself back that many times?

I was trying to make it the best it could be. I'm very Nigerian. I was like, "I got to get an A-plus on this." I told HBO, "I'm giving you a comedy special/documentary/music video." And they were like, "What?" I was like, "Just don't believe me. Just watch." So, I had my own theme song created. I had Chris Robinson, who does all of the music videos, direct it. It came out exactly how I wanted it.

Then when I was watching it the day of with people on Twitter, it was like, "Oh my god! They laughed! They got it! Yes! They're retweeting." But it was definitely different to watch it with an audience than by myself in a dark hole in my room.

I love how your comedy explores what parents expect of their children and how those expectations can be such a moving target. For instance, you’ve experienced a ton of career success over the last few years, and yet your family is constantly questioning you about when you’ll meet a man and get married.

It's like, "I'm trying my best. It's not on me, guys. It's not on me." It’s like, sure, they want me to be happy, but in the back of their mind they're also like, "Can you be happy with a nice Nigerian man who's also possibly Ebo?" And I'm just like, "I can't make any promises."

The special hops back and forth between you performing onstage and then spending quality time in Nigeria with your family. With the pandemic still going on, do you have any idea when you'd be able to see your parent in-person again?

No, for sure. So many things happened. They were supposed to come in May and then their flight in Nigeria got canceled. And then it was like, "Oh, well, I guess they won't be here for the special." So, then it was like, "Let's go in July." And then it just got worse. Their flight also got canceled. So, I'm like, "Father in heaven, when am I going to see them?" Because they don't like being in America when it's cold. And there's a very short window because they spend time in Maryland. Obviously, if they came to L.A. it'd be a little bit warmer. But still, their home base is Maryland. I don't even know what it's looking like in terms of them coming to America this year. Obviously, I miss them, but I also want them to be healthy. And they need to get their checkups. And it's all the real things that you're dealing with in real time.

How do you keep in touch when they're overseas?

We WhatsApp. We have a family group chat to make sure that everyone is okay and protected, etc. But the special airs in Nigeria on July 1. So, that's going to be very exciting for all of their friends to be able to get to see. They've seen it, but now it's like everyone else is going to see it. So, they send me messages of like, "Mrs. So-and-so saw it and this is what she said." I'm like, "Okay. All right. Okay." So, I'm not in a lot of trouble, but my mom did see it and say, "You are talking about me a lot." I'm like, "Yeah! It's called 'Momma, I Made It.' I'm going to talk about you." And she's just like, "Well, you know, I'm just saying." 

The special hones in on Nigerian parent-child dynamics, but I bet lots of other children of immigrants could relate to everything you described. Did you find that to be the case?

It's so funny. A lot of the messages have been like, "I am Latin American and I know that story," or, "I am Asian American and I know that story," or, "My parents are from X, Y and Z." And it's just like, "Wow, we really are all similar in our own specific kind of ways."

I’m so excited to see what you do next. What can you tell us about the memoir you’ve written, coming out next year?

It's called Bamboozled by Jesus: How God Tricked Me into the Life of My Dreams. I feel like, especially with the special, I've come to a beautiful bookend for the end of a chapter in my life. And I'm not so far removed from the beginning stages of having a dream to seeing it through that I can't look back and help the next generation who have an improbable dream. I’m like, "Hey, if there's anything at all you see in my life, I'm not only showing you how I did it, but obviously my faith is an anchor to my success and so many things in my life."

I'm actually paralleling my journey with journeys of other people from the Bible who also had a battle of integrity. I'll tell a story about when I had to lean into integrity and why that's so much more important than just getting success. Success without integrity: [that’s] not going to be sustainable. It's like, "Here's my journey on an integrity moment that was in question. And then here's somebody else in the Bible who also was challenged. And look at how it turned out for both of us."

A lot of times people find things when they're 85 and on their death bed or after they get a family and it's like, "Well, I guess, God can come into my life now." But for me, I got saved when I was 17 and I developed a really cool friendship with him. And I'm 36 now. I'm like, "Yo, I don't want to wait until 50 to be like, 'Hey God.'" I want to enjoy what that looks like now. And I'm kind of battling against [people saying] "The Bible is outdated," or, ""God or religion is not pertinent or relevant to our lives today.” And I'm like, "I beg to differ."

Yeah, I was aware that you value your faith very deeply. I’ve always wondered—comedian culture as we know it can often be a cynical, non-believing sort of place. It makes me think about what the dynamic is like when you travel in comedian circles. Does it matter?

I think when you meet me, you know three things about me. I say it all the time. I love to laugh and smile. I love God. And I love a good body roll. And I lead with like, "Yo, God is my homeboy." But it's not in a way that's off-putting. It's not in a way that's like, "I can't hang out with you.”

Actually, people have messed up the purity of Christianity. Jesus walked with people that [didn’t believe in him]. I'm very confident in who I am. So, obviously you have to kind of protect your space, like who gets in the inner court, but it's not to be like, "Hey, I'm Christian so thus, you go over there and I can't hang out with you or learn anything new from you or enjoy your company." I think, for me, that's what I like to show. It’s just like, "Yo, faith is actually really inclusive. It's people who mess it up. It's people who shun other people in the name of faith." And I'm like, "That's called the division."

Looking into the future, are you more interested in leaning into comedy or acting, or balancing a combination of both?

Well, it's funny because after the special, everyone was like, "When's the next one?" I'm like, "Everybody calm down." I was like, "This was not built in five seconds. This took time to curate." It's funny because it's like the thing you enjoy about something, you enjoy it because there was attention to detail that was paid.

I think we're also in a place where I don't know what comedy looks like or acting, for that matter, looks like right now because, when are we going to be allowed to act again? Are we going to be able to gather again in groups of 300 to 3,000?

I don't know what either one of these mediums look like, but comedy is definitely one of those things that you don't dispose of because it allows people to get to know the you that you are. A character is a character. And some characters are amazing. And I'm grateful to play one that I enjoy and also learn from. But I'm so grateful, after the special, that people really got to know a little bit more about the person I am, the person behind the character. So, I think it's a two-hander. You work both of them.

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King Bach

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King Bach On His Comedy Album 'Medicine,' Loving Ludacris & Trying Not To Throw Up

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The YouTube and former Vine star opens up to the Recording Academy about creating his first comedy album, who he listened to growing up and why laughter has been a cure-all in his life
Rachel Brodsky
GRAMMYs
Oct 4, 2019 - 12:54 pm

Andrew Bachelor, otherwise known as rising comedy titan King Bach, is definitely on his way to achieving royalty. 

Starting out producing comedy sketches on YouTube, Bachelor eventually switched to the now-defunct short-form outpost Vine, where he'd go on to amass more than 15 million subscribers and more than five billion views. Nowadays, the funnyman is dipping his toes into the TV and music world, where he currently stars in IFC's variety sketch series "Sherman's Showcase," among other things.

Meanwhile, Medicine, which dropped in mid-August, is his debut comedy album, and is filled with 15 true-to-life tracks—with music videos—that skewer everything from his weak stomach ("Bulimic") to the lies people tell each other when they first meet ("Secrets"). 

Below, Bachelor opens up to the Recording Academy about why laughter is truly the best Medicine, who he listened to growing up and the different ways he utilizes social-media platforms to reach new audiences. 

What sparked the idea to make a comedy album?

I've always loved music, ever since I was younger. And when I started making the comedy skits, I actually thought of making a parody music video, and I just love putting together music that people just like to listen to and have fun with listening to it and having a laugh at the same time.

So I figured why not make original music that I own and, I could just share with everyone and not feel any type of way of me taking someone else's style. This is my style, my unique style. So yeah and then I figured it's a comedy album and they're saying laughter is the best medicine, so I named the album Medicine, because every track they're laughing at.

Who did you listen to growing up?

I listen to a lot of Ludacris, Ludacris is my favorite rapper since I was little. Just his style, his energy, I like songs that have a lot of energy behind them. Now music has changed though we realize, that energy has kind of tapered down a little bit. So most artists, it's a lot of mumbling going on, it's more like vibes and feeling it out as opposed to the lyrics. So I'm doing a mixture of both.

Yeah, we've been hearing a lot of "genre labels don't matter anymore" nowadays.

Yeah the whole thing is, what I realized in doing comedies, why it's so good, when you're laughing about a joke or anything, you forget all your problems. You forget about the bad day you had, you forget about your breakup, you forget about somebody who's passing. You just forget about everything and you're literally focused on that joke that that made you laugh in that moment. So that's the mood that I want people to feel like when they listen to the album, they can just forget about everything else and just enjoy the music and just stay present.

Have you personally used comedy as a coping mechanism?

Yeah, with everything, it kind of puts me in a better mood and lets me forget. The way I look at is, I'm being myself, I am being unique. Some people may find it funny but I'm being me, like these are my point of views. Every song on the album is a situation that happened in my life. So it's a situation that happened in my life and I took it and I found the comedy in it.

There's a song on there called "Bulimic." I have a very weak stomach and throughout the days I'm constantly trying to stop myself from throwing up. And it's just been something I've dealt with since I've been seven years old. So I tried to find the light of that and I made a song called "what you going to do if I throw up on you?"

Are any other themes that have come up repeatedly in your comedy that you've touched on with Medicine?

Yeah, there's a song on there called "Secrets," and it's about everyone letting out the secrets and being honest. And the way I directed in film, that music video was pretty much like a YouTube skit. The concept of the video was the speed dating situation, and everyone thinks that speed dating is going regular, but then the speed dating announcer, he announces that she puts truth serum in the guys drink. And it forces them to let out their deepest and darkest secrets. So these guys are confessing their secrets against their will. So that's how I kind of shoot my skits as well, I come up with a concept and I just shoot it around that.

You became pretty famous from using Vine, which sadly doesn’t exist any longer. Have you embraced the similar-minded Tik Tok to create the same short-form comedy? 

Yeah, listen, I'm a creator at the end of the day and I am on the social media application. So I'm on Tik Tok, I'm on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, I'm on everything. And I'll just take one video and I'll just post it everywhere. So if someone only has Tik Tok, they're getting it on Tik Tok. If they only have Facebook, they're getting on Facebook, so I use them all. You name the app, I got it.

So what's your strategy when deciding how to best utilize different apps?

I kind of see how the platform is being used and I kind of adapt to that. So Tik Tok is more music-based, so if I have an idea and it's music based and it's a fun, bubbly, energetic vibe that'll go on Tik Tok. So yeah definitely got to think about, it's like you got to know your audience.

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Ronny Chieng in Netflix's 'Asian Comedian Destroys America!'

Ronny Chieng in Netflix's 'Asian Comedian Destroys America!'

Photo: Marcus Russell Price/Netflix

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Ronny Chieng On His Debut Netflix Comedy Special, The Future Of Live Comedy And The Importance Of Diversity In Storytelling

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Quarantining from Sydney, Australia, the funnyman spoke with GRAMMY.com about the perceptive messages behind 'Asian Comedian Destroys America!' and why he still believes in the American experiment
John Ochoa
GRAMMYs
Aug 2, 2020 - 6:00 am

The opening of Ronny Chieng's 2019 Netflix standup comedy special, Asian Comedian Destroys America!, is almost prophetic. In the first 10 minutes, he spills biting critiques about the return of infectious diseases like the measles, the rise in "stupid anti-vaccination idiots," the role the internet plays in making people dumber and how Amazon makes it so you never have to leave your house to buy anything—all things highly relevant in today's pandemic-struck world. It's like a dark comedy turned accidental prophecy.

"Predicting the worst things to happen in the world, turns out, isn't that hard," he tells GRAMMY.com by phone while quarantining in Sydney, Australia. "You just have to assume everything's going to be terrible."

Released last December, the special sees Chieng ridiculing the absurdities of American culture from an outsider's perspective. He destroys America's addiction to hyper-consumerism—"We need [Amazon] Prime harder, faster, stronger … Prime Now … When I press buy, put the item in my hand, now!"—and obsession with individual freedoms. 

Chieng, who was born in Malaysia and reared in Manchester, New Hampshire, Singapore and Australia, brings a truly international point of view to his comedy and special. And even though his jabs against American culture are painfully, and hilariously, revealing, his sharp takes come from a place of love. 

"I think the American values are universal and I think people get behind that," he says. "That's why immigrants go to America, because they see something there in the ideology of what the country is supposed to be about. Now, the execution in America is not always [clear,] as we've seen since the founding of America. The execution of those ideals has never been perfect. But I think the fact that America, hopefully, is striving towards those ideals of equality is what draws people there."

Of course, Chieng has never shied away from calling out stupidity in America and around the world. As a correspondent on "The Daily Show With Trevor Noah" since 2015, he's tackled everything from coronavirus misinformation to frivolous lawsuits against food companies. The beloved show's commitment to finding a deeper meaning within seemingly simple jokes, he says, has impacted his own approach to comedy. It's a concept he practiced in Asian Comedian Destroys America!

"'The Daily Show' changed the way I think of comedy forever now," he says. "I feel like I definitely think of jokes now in terms of, 'What are you trying to say with the joke? Is what you're trying to say intentional or not? Is this really the message you want to put out there?' I think I feel a little bit of an additional burden to make sure that I represent myself and, by extension, Asian people in general in a certain way. I want to represent them with power and dignity and strength and intelligence."

GRAMMY.com spoke with Ronny Chieng about the perceptive messages behind Asian Comedian Destroys America!, the future of live comedy and the importance of racial diversity and authenticity in mainstream storytelling.

Even though you released your special last December, it talks about a lot of issues we're experiencing as a society right now in terms of global health and race relations. When you think back on the special through this lens, how does it feel to have basically predicted our current situation?  

I wish I could have predicted the stock market; that would actually have been useful. Predicting the worst things to happen in the world, turns out, isn't that hard. You just have to assume everything's going to be terrible.

I was trying to give a timestamp to the special, actually ... Not that I didn't want it to be a classic, timeless special, but I just wanted people to know the context in which I was making it and I was writing it and I was performing it. This was the world we were in … So I was deliberately trying to make sure people understood that this was me in America in 2019, and I guess I'm kinda of glad I did that ... I want people to know that I was thinking of this before all this happened.

In the special, you make a case for an Asian-American president. In your opinion, how would an Asian-American president handle this kind of double-barreled blast of a pandemic and nationwide protests?

I think the spirit of the joke was that Asian people will approach problem-solving with logic and science-solution-based ideas. So I would love to believe that if an Asian person [were] president, they would do the same thing. I don't want to point fingers here, but you look at the Asian countries and how they handled the coronavirus outbreak, and most of them handled it a lot better than America: Singapore, Vietnam, Taiwan, Japan, South Korea. So bringing some of that scientific-based thinking into American politics, I think, could help.

And with regards to the nationwide protests, I'll be damned if I know how to solve any of this; it's a mess. But again, in the spirit of the joke, I think there's something towards having a third-party race that acts as a referee in situations, that has no racial agenda [and] who just wants things to work and wants things to work well. I think everyone could benefit from that kind of approach ... a more logical and unbiased approach would help everything.

In past interviews, you've talked about the rise in cultural influence of Asian-Americans in the U.S. We are seeing an explosion of Asian and Asian-American culture and creatives breaking through the American mainstream. As an Asian living in America, how does it make you feel to see your people and culture reflected on such a national level nowadays?

Obviously, it feels great to have your ideas and stories being told from an authentic point of view. So for me, storytelling is all about authenticity, and I just feel like the problem with having Asian side characters isn't so much that they are side characters—it's that there's no authenticity in it. It's basically tokenistic.

As someone who consumes a lot of culture, essentially I consume stories. Whether it's standup or movies or television shows, I'm a consumer of storytelling. So it's nice to see people who you can relate to in these stories, because I think for the longest time, we never saw any of that … So we got used to that, until we see stories being told from these authentic and powerful points of view. Then we go, "Oh yeah, we were missing this."

So I think that feeling is what's causing, as you described it, this kind of surge in Asian-American storytelling … I think there's always a search for the original story. We've never told these stories. We've never told them from this point of view. I think people are seeing how interesting that can be.

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And also, I think that society's demographic is changing ... I think I read a stat that Generation Z is going to be the most diverse generation in American history in terms of racial demographics. So part of seeing Asian people in storytelling in the West, it's just seeing stories reflecting actual society. We grow up and we see Asian people all the time. They're all around us, but then they're not in the stories that we tell in the West. I think, as the younger generation comes up ... it's not about diversity when we see Asian people or black people. It's about seeing actual society because that's how we understand society to be ... If you watch a TV show or a movie and there are no Asian people or no Black people or no Mexican people in America, you're almost like, "What? How is this America?" It's coming to a point where if you don't tell these stories, it becomes inauthentic storytelling.

I'm in the business of storytelling, so obviously it's nice that people want to hear my stories now. But also as just a consumer, it's nice to see those stories being told on TV; you feel empowered by it. I think storytelling affects society, which affects culture. It has real-world ramifications. If you only see Asian people in storytelling in a certain way, then that's how you think about them in real life.

It's getting increasingly harder to smile or laugh these days. In your eyes, what is the role of comedy today? What can the art form provide for everyday comedy fans in our current situation?

I think comedy helps to lighten people's mood and it helps them hopefully get through a day. I think laughter is such a release for people from the tensions of the day, so I think it's really good for mental health. I think it can help you deal with unpleasant situations a little bit better ... Either you yourself, or you see someone else making fun of a situation which you encountered that frustrated you ... and then you see a bunch of other people laughing at that same joke, and [you're] like, "Oh yeah, all these people agree, so I'm not alone, I'm not a weirdo."

Comedy, in a way, can support you in that way, indirectly. Even though you don't know any of these people, you don't know the comic, you don't know the audiences, but you feel supported that your view of the world, other people agree with it, even if maybe you weren't able to express it in that way ... Regardless of your emotional response, we all are talking about the same situation; we are still experiencing that same thing, whatever that joke was about. I feel like maybe that's a way people can deal with their emotions, maybe in a more positive way.

I think there's also a chance, with comedy, to see other people's point of view … whether you're left-leaning and then you see a more conservative comic making his point of view, or you're a conservative person and you see a more liberal comic making that point of view. It's a chance to see other points of view being expressed that you might not always encounter in your life.

You come from a standup comedy background, an industry that has been devastated by the pandemic. What do you think live comedy will look like in a post-pandemic world?

Damn, it's not looking good. Right now, it's looking like a lot of outdoor gigs. I've seen in New York, they're already trying to do more Central Park shows, they're trying to do shows literally in car parks on the back of a truck.

It's sad ... It's my primary profession, so this wasn't a side gig for me; this was my main thing. But I'm pretty hopeful of two things. One: I'm hopeful that comedy will adapt. I think what I've seen over the last couple of months is that people want it ... So it might go back to its roots a little bit, where comedy was always a room of 30-50 people. It's become theaters and arenas and stadiums, but really, comedy was for like 30-40 people in a room. Maybe it might go back to that, smaller numbers.

The other thing I'm hopeful for is that the strength of America is in its innovation. Maybe not its response to emergencies, but in its innovation, America's No. 1, so I'm still crossing my fingers for a vaccine. [Laughs.] And if a vaccine happens in the next year, then I think we can go back to the way it was before in terms of comedy audiences showing up to clubs.

Read: Facing Lockdown, Ed Helms Is Spreading The Joys Of Americana, Bluegrass And Comedy With His "Whiskey Sour Happy Hour" Online Series

But one thing I have seen—it's still early days, and I'm no longer in New York—but people are showing up. And if you do a gig, people will just show up. I think, if anything, [the pandemic has] shown how indispensable standup comedy is. People just need it. They're willing to risk everything. Performers and audiences are willing to risk everything just to tell these dick jokes ... So for better or for worse, people are still showing up for comedy.

People who are still doing it, they're not doing it for money anymore … It's America, so I would love to see everyone get paid, but there is something powerful in [that]. When people do comedy now, it's purely for self-expression, because there is no money in it, and you're literally risking your life doing a show.

You recently told the "CBS This Morning" podcast that "The Daily Show" changed your approach to comedy in that it makes you think about the message behind the joke in addition to the joke itself. Similarly, your special carries a lot of messages about race, about your experience as a non-U.S. citizen in America. Do you foresee your comedy in the future always having this kind of deeper meaning?

"The Daily Show" changed the way I think of comedy forever now. I feel like I definitely think of jokes now in terms of, "What are you trying to say with the joke? Is what you're trying to say intentional or not? Is this really the message you want to put out there?" I think I feel a little bit of an additional burden to make sure that I represent myself and, by extension, Asian people in general in a certain way. I want to represent them with power and dignity and strength and intelligence.

So the jokes that I do, I keep asking myself, "If this is funny and it works, is it sending the right message?" But the more I do comedy, I think the better I get at telling funny jokes that say what I want them to say. And you can do it subtly or you can do it overtly, but as long as it is saying what you want it to say, and of course that it's funny. That's the real challenge for me, [finding] a combination of those two things. It gets easier for me to find those jokes and make them say what I want them to say, easier. I think it's a combination of getting older, more experienced with comedy writing, and knowing my voice better—knowing what I want to say [and] how I want to say it.

Do you feel your special accomplished that goal?

Yeah, if I do say so myself. I'm very happy with it. I'm happy with how it looked. I'm happy with the material; I was working on it for two years ... I'm really happy with Netflix and my producer at All Things Comedy, Mike Bertolina, and the director, Sebastian DiNatale, [and] everyone who worked on it. It was the first time I was given that [many] resources and creative control to do something that just had my name on it. They all supported that; everyone really supported the vision. I'm always very critical with my own performances. 

But overall, I'm really happy with how it turned out, and I think it sent the message that I wanted it to send, even visually. For example, one of the visual themes in the special was—I wanted it to be [like] American show business, because I felt like Asian performers in America were never given that platform, [like] that Johnny Carson show. I wanted to recreate that feeling, that kind of classic American show-business vibe, and have someone on there who not only is an Asian person, but is talking about things not just for an Asian audience. Speaking for myself, everyone gets what they want out of the art that you create, but I personally feel like I achieved that.

Your special ends on a really uplifting note about racial harmony and finding the genuine niceness in strangers. There's been a lot of conversations about race and racial harmony in America these past few months. Where do you see this country going in the future in terms of race relations? How do we get through this turmoil as a society?

Dude, like I said before, I'll be damned if I can solve racism in America. [Laughs.] But I will say that I think the American values are universal and I think people get behind that. That's why immigrants go to America, because they see something there in the ideology of what the country is supposed to be about. Now, the execution in America is not always [clear,] as we've seen since the founding of America. The execution of those ideals has never been perfect. But I think the fact that America, hopefully, is striving towards those ideals of equality is what draws people there.

And then on a less philosophical note, if you want some actual hard data to be hopeful about, I think Generation Z is the most diverse generation. I think they'll be better equipped to handle a lot of this for many reasons. One: They've grown up with technology. Two: They've grown up with a lot of people around them who aren't of the same race, so I think they'll be more harmonious in their approach ... Again, I'm no sociologist, but I think what we're seeing right now is the last death throes of an older generational way of thinking. For me, this battle, as much as it is racial, it's also generational. I think it's old versus new, what we're seeing a lot of right now. I personally hope that "new" wins, because I think "new" is more progressive and I think they're less racist.

You have this great joke in your special about how Chinese citizens and non-U.S. foreigners look at America as being the best. You compare America to being the NBA. Given everything that's happening here recently, do you still stand by that belief that America is the best?

It's tough to judge someone when they are at a low point. If you judge anyone by their lowest point, no one is going to look good. Undoubtedly, I think America is at a bit of a low point right now. Do I still believe in the experiment? Yeah, I do, and that's why I'm going back. Even now, I just think of [America] as home … Is America the best? I think how it handles the next year will really determine.

One thing that is hopeful is that I think it's the only country that is capable of change like this ... a country that's capable of change through citizen protesting, through democracy, essentially; that's not as common as you would think. A lot of other countries wouldn't let it even get to this point where people can protest and air their views publicly. Obviously in America, it hasn't been just smooth protests. But I feel like the protests are making change happen. I think laws have been changed already, I think some people have been arrested. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, in America, I think change is still possible, which for a lot of countries it's not.

Yvonne Orji On Her First-Ever HBO Comedy Special, Faith & Celebrating Black Joy

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Meet The First-Time GRAMMY Nominee: Antibalas

Antibalas

 

Photo: Celine Pinget

 
 
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Meet The First-Time GRAMMY Nominee: Antibalas Talk 'Fu Chronicles,' Kung Fu And Their Mission To Spread Afrobeat

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Antibalas members Martín Perna and Duke Amayo discuss their origin story, their decades-long rise as an outlier in Brooklyn and how their first-ever GRAMMY nomination for Best Global Music Album could help introduce new listeners to Afrobeat
Morgan Enos
GRAMMYs
Feb 16, 2021 - 7:27 pm

Even somebody who barely listens to music could presumably name three artists in each of these spheres: rock, blues and jazz. Sure, Bob Marley may remain the embodiment of reggae, but chances are you've heard of Toots and the Maytals or Lee "Scratch" Perry at least once. What about Afrobeat, a West African amalgam of soul and funk with regional styles like Yoruba and highlife?

For many, the Afrobeat conversation begins and ends with the outrageous, incendiary, brilliant multi-instrumentalist and pioneer of the form, Fela Kuti. While the Brooklyn Afrobeat ensemble Antibalas, which ranges from 11 to 19 members, undoubtedly work from the template Kuti helped create, they argue the story of Afrobeat begins—not ends—with him.

"I think that's one of the weirdest things, being in a genre of music that is so defined and predetermined by one person," Martín Perna, the multi-instrumentalist who first dreamed up Antibalas in 1998, tells GRAMMY.com. "Even reggae artists don't all get compared to Bob Marley. I don't think anybody in any other genre is in the shadow of one person like people who play this music." (For those who wish to dig deeper, Perna recommends Geraldo Pino, Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou and the Funkees; his bandmate, Duke Amayo, name-drops Orlando Julius.)

"It's been a weird thing," Perna continues. "I would have thought after 22 years that it would have expanded a little bit more."

Antibalas | Meet The First-Time GRAMMY Nominee

More than 20 years after Kuti's death in 1997, Afrobeat may soon expand radically in the public eye thanks to Antibalas. The group, who played their first gig half a year after Kuti's passing, has been nominated at the 2021 GRAMMYs Awards show in the newly renamed Best Global Music Album category for Fu Chronicles, which dropped last February on Daptone Records. Their first album to be solely written by lead singer and percussionist Amayo, its highlights, like "Lai Lai," "MTTT, Pt. 1 & 2" and "Fist of Flowers," partly derive their power from his other primary pursuit: kung fu.

A Nigerian-born multidisciplinarian who is a senior master at the Jow Ga Kung Fo School of martial arts, Amayo aims to find the nexus point between music, dance and martial arts. When he received the unexpected news that Antibalas had clinched their first-ever GRAMMY nomination after 20 years in the game, he launched into a dance of his own.

"I walked over to my girl and said, 'Check this out. Is this real?'" he recalls to GRAMMY.com with a laugh. "She Googled the GRAMMY nominations, and it was surreal. And then I did that usual thing where you shake your hips, violently doing the hip thrust back and forth. Then, I woke the whole house up screaming, as my daughter screamed with me for a minute or two."

GRAMMY.com spoke with Martín Perna and Duke Amayo about Antibalas' origin story, their decades-long rise as an outlier in Brooklyn and how their nomination could help introduce new listeners to Afrobeat.

These interviews have been edited and condensed for clarity.

How would you explain the vocabulary of someone like Fela Kuti to a person who's unfamiliar?

Martín Perna: Afrobeat is like musical architecture. It's a set of ingredients and musical relationships between those ingredients. All the instruments are talking to each other. They're all in dialogue, and these dialogues create dynamic tension in the music. Some instruments create a rigid structure, and others—vocals included—have much more free reign to improvise or solo.

Duke Amayo: I would describe it as a tonal language of the common Nigerian—or African—singing truth to power from a marginalized place. That is the window from where Fela Kuti was operating. He drew from observations around him and expressed them truthfully throughout his music. He is like the Bob Marley and the James Brown of Nigeria rolled into one.

Perna: Whereas the guitar might be playing the same five-note pattern without stopping for 20 minutes, the singer or keyboardist gets to improvise. Or, when the horns aren't playing the melodies, they get solos. It's both very rigid and very free, but it's a dynamic tension between the two.

In a nutshell, describe how Antibalas came up in the Brooklyn scene.

Perna: I was 22 when I dreamed this up, and a lot of it was just trying to create a scene that I wanted to be part of. At the time, I played with Sharon Jones—rest in peace—Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings. A bunch of the musicians were my colleagues in that band. The rest of the musicians came pretty much from the neighborhood—just people I knew who either had the chops or the interest to be in this band.

Amayo: I was living in Williamsburg, a neighborhood that embodied gentrification in record time. I was in the right place at the right time as I opened a clothing store/martial-arts dojo in my residence called the Afro-Spot. From here, I hosted many fashion shows, using Nigerian drummers to maintain an edge to my brand. This exposed me to musicians who wanted to make resistance music, if you will.

So that brought me in contact with Martín and [Daptone Records co-founder and former Antibalas guitarist] Gabe [Roth], who stopped in my store one day to hang. Eventually, they asked me to join the band. I started as a percussionist and then became the lead singer.

Perna: I wanted to make a band that was both a dance band and a protest band. Because you need so many people to make this music, it fulfilled that idea of being a band and a community. You need anywhere from 11 [musicians] on the small end; at our biggest shows, there have been 19 musicians on stage. So, already, you have a community of people.

Coming up in Brooklyn, did you have local peers in this style? Was there a scene?

Perna: No, there wasn't a scene. There were individuals—mostly West African guys a generation older than us—that had played with Fela or were part of some other African funk band in the '70s. But no, there weren't any peers at all.

Amayo: I would state that we were the scene.

How would you describe your vision for Fu Chronicles as opposed to past Antibalas albums?

Amayo: Fu Chronicles is a concept album written by only me. While the past albums have been written by different members employing the group dynamics of the time, my vision was to create a musical universe where African folklore and kung fu wisdom can coexist seamlessly, supporting each other in a harmonious flow.

The first song I composed [20 years ago], "MTTT," came from my intention to compose a timeless, logical song, expressing a new frontier in classical African music. I wanted to move the music forward by writing songs with two distinct-but-related bass and guitar lines and shape the grooves into a two-part form: yin and yang.

How did martial arts play into the album?

Amayo: I wanted to reimagine Afrobeat songs from a real kung fu practitioner's mindset. I'm a certified Jow Ga Kung Fu sifu, or master. I started studying kung fu in Nigeria as a young boy. The song "Fist of Flowers" describes the traditional form of Jow Ga Kung Fu that I teach. My rhythmic blocks are sometimes based on the shapes of my kung fu movements.

How did you learn about your GRAMMY nomination for Best Global Music Album?

Amayo: The first person who texted me was Kyle Eustice, [who interviewed me in 2020] for High Times. I didn't react at first. I walked over to my girl and said, "Check this out. Is this real?" She Googled the GRAMMY nominations, and it was surreal.

I did that usual thing where you shake your hips, violently doing the hip thrust back and forth, and quickly calmed down. Then I woke the whole house up screaming as my daughter screamed with me for a minute or two.

Perna: On my fridge, last year, when I set my goals and intentions, one of the five things [I wrote] was to win a GRAMMY. This year has been such a disappointment in so many ways, so it's exciting that at least we got, so far, the nomination.

This nomination serves as a punctuation mark on Antibalas's 20-plus-year career. How do you see the next 20 years?

Perna: Oh, gosh. I hope it provides some wind in our sails to continue to record and tour and grow our audience. It could be either a nice end to a beautiful history of the band, or something like I said: wind in our sails.

Amayo: I see the next 20 years of Antibalas as a flower in full growth, writing music to push the genre forward while maintaining excellence in the trade. We began as a bunch of guys in Brooklyn who wanted to make a change, make some noise, and be part of the revival of activist music.

And it's still as relevant as ever, demanding for justice movements like Black Lives Matter, Indigenous peoples' plight, and a more comprehensive education system based on truth ...

Perna: … To get this recommendation and this nod from the GRAMMYs, it's like, "Hey, everybody! Pay attention to this band! They made this amazing record, and you should listen to it!" That's something that propels us out of the world of just musicians listening to us. It feels good to get a little bit of wider recognition.

Amayo: I've been praising my wife ever since [the nomination]: "This is all mostly you." Because if she hadn't put a fire in me, I wouldn't have been able to make the right moves. It takes something to light it up for you, to believe you can get there.

Thus, my song, "Fight Am Finish," with the lyrics, "Never, ever let go of your dreams." I'm going to keep running. I'm going to keep my feet moving until I cross the finish line, you know what I mean?

Travel Around The World With The Best Global Music Album Nominees | 2021 GRAMMYs

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GRAMMYs

PJ Harvey and John Parish perform at Primavera Sound Festival in 2016

Photo by Jordi Vidal/Redferns

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PJ Harvey's Lost Album: John Parish Discusses 1996 Gem 'Dance Hall At Louse Point'

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On the occasion of its recent reissue, we tracked down John Parish to talk about 'Dance Hall At Louse Point' and his earliest memories of meeting PJ Harvey as an ambitious teenager
Zach Schonfeld
GRAMMYs
Nov 10, 2020 - 10:19 am

PJ Harvey rarely looks back. The songwriter’s career has been defined by a restless sense of reinvention, each album cycle accompanied by a fresh persona—the blues roar of To Bring You My Love, or the glossy alt-rock romance of Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea—ready to be discarded at the next creative whim.

But 2020 has been an exception. Harvey has spent much of the year rolling out a vinyl reissue series of her back catalog, along with some accompanying demo albums. The latest vinyl reissue is something of an outlier: Dance Hall At Louse Point, Harvey’s abrasive 1996 collaboration with ex-bandmate John Parish. Harvey and Parish had first met in the late 1980s, when she joined his band Automatic Dlamini. In 1996, they combined Parish’s musical demos and Harvey’s lyrics on an album that would plunge the singer-songwriter into an avant-garde realm of disturbing monologues and banshee-wail vocals.

Credited to John Parish & Polly Jean Harvey, Dance Hall was largely overshadowed at the time by the immense success of To Bring You My Love. In retrospect, it’s an underrated gem and something of a lost album in Harvey’s catalog; as Harvey herself later acknowledged, "People don't even count that, yet that's the record I'm really proud of."

On the occasion of the album’s recent reissue, I tracked down John Parish to talk about the album’s unusual backstory and his earliest memories of meeting Harvey as an ambitious teenager. Since then, Parish has co-produced most of the singer’s solo albums, and in 2009, the pair reunited for a second collaborative record. This interview has been lightly edited and condensed.

At the time you made Dance Hall At Louse Point, you had already known Polly for a number of years. What was your first impression when you first met her in the '80s?

She was like 17 when I first met her. She was coming to see my band, Automatic Dlamini, whenever we played in her local area. We all got to chatting after a gig. A mutual friend introduced us, and then she gave me a couple of cassettes of some of her early songs she’d been writing. They were kind of like folk songs at that time, really. But her voice—it was already there. It was fully formed at that age.

I just thought, "That girl’s got a really good voice, I’m gonna see if she wants to join the band." So I just asked her. When she finished school, she came and joined the band and she played with us for the next three years, before she formed the first PJ Harvey trio.

Was there a moment when you first realized, "This person is extraordinarily talented, oh my God."

I mean, I obviously saw something that was really good there; otherwise I wouldn’t have asked her to join the band. You can’t possibly predict how somebody’s going to develop as an artist. I could see that she had the potential to be great. If I said, "Oh, I knew she was going to be a star"—obviously nobody can know those kinds of things.

Do you have any favorite memories of working with Polly in Automatic Dlamini?

She came in at a point when the original lineup was kind of falling apart. I was rebuilding a lineup, and she was an absolutely fundamental part of that. She’s always had an old head on young shoulders. She was somebody that you could talk to and discuss pretty serious issues. As a teenager, she was very serious. And was quite capable of being able to offer good advice. We started relying on each other.

Was she nervous performing onstage with the band when she first joined?

The first couple of shows, yeah, really nervous. As you would be. But no, she got used to it pretty fast.

Tell me about the origin story for Dance Hall At Louse Point. My understanding is that you wrote those songs while on tour with Polly for To Bring You My Love?

That’s semi-right. It was Polly’s idea. It was after Rid Of Me, before she had started To Bring You My Love. I was teaching a performing arts course at a local college. I’d written some music for a theater production, and Polly came along to see it. She absolutely loved the music, and said afterwards, "Would you write me some music in that kind of vein? That I could try writing words to?" I said, "OK, that would be great."

That’s how we had the idea for the album. I was writing the music for Dance Hall At Louse Point at the same time she was writing the music for To Bring You My Love. I then became involved with [To Bring You My Love], which was obviously a big record. And it involved a big tour as well. Took 18 months of our time. While we were on tour for To Bring You My Love, that’s when Polly wrote all the words. She already had a cassette of the music for the Dance Hall record, which she carried around with her on the tour and then wrote lyrics in different cities. Which is why those cities are referenced on the album sleeve.

Were you hearing her lyrics while she was writing them? Or were you both working in your own separate worlds?

She would sort of drop a cassette into my hotel room and say, "I've got some lyrics for this song." I'd hear them as they were coming in. It was always kind of, "Here you go, here's the lyrics." And it would always be completely done. It was very exciting.

I was reading some old interviews with Polly. There’s one where she describes that record as being a huge turning point for her. What do you think she meant by that?

It’s always difficult to talk about how that is for somebody else. My take on that is—and I know this from myself when I’m writing in collaboration with somebody else—it’s a certain freedom you have that you don’t give yourself if you're writing entirely individually, because you have the weight of the whole thing. When you can share the weight, it eases you up to do things you might be nervous about doing yourself, because you’re not sure whether you’ve gone off a stupid tangent and you’re not seeing it.

You can try those things that might seem kind of wayward. And you have another person that you rely on say, "Oh yeah, that’s great. Push it a bit further." Like I said before, she approaches most things very seriously. Writing particularly so. So I think it probably enabled her to be a bit more wayward than she might have been. When I first heard her vocal idea for "Taut," I mean—the entire delivery of the song was kind of extreme.

Which song are you referring to?

I’m referring to "Taut." Which is quite an extreme performance. A lot of the songs, I would give her a title. So I gave her the title "Taut." She didn’t have to use it if she didn’t want to. Some of the titles she used; some she didn’t. But I think it was also quite freeing to suddenly have a word or a line and say, "What are you gonna come up with for that?"

I’m assuming Polly thinks the same. She might have a totally different reason for saying that was a turning point. It could also be that, up until that point, the lyrics she had been writing—you know, Rid Of Me and Dry—were very personal lyrics. Or they could be read in a personal way, couldn’t they? Louse Point was very much stories and scenarios. You weren’t imagining that Polly was talking about herself in the bulk of those songs.

The vocal performance on "City Of No Sun" is also quite extreme and very jarring. Were you taken aback by her approach to singing this material?

I was a bit surprised. In a good way. I thought it was really exciting. I remember the performance of "City Of No Sun" when we were in the studio. She said, "OK, I’ll record the quiet bits first, then I’ll do the loud bits." So she had the engineer set the levels, doing the quiet bits. It’s quite strange timing in that song, to get everything to line up. She hit the chorus; she had two or three go’s and she kept getting it wrong.

At one point, she got it wrong again and she was so annoyed that she just went straight into the loud bit anyway. We had the mic set to be recording this really quiet vocal, so all the needles shot way into the red. It was on tape, which can really compress those kinds of things.

Is that the performance that is actually on the record? You can hear how it sounds a bit distorted.

Yeah. Because it’s absolutely pushing everything. She didn't mean to record it like that, but it just sounded so great. Of course we kept it.

Whose idea was it to cover "Is That All There Is?" by Peggy Lee?

It was initially done because they needed it for this film [Basquiat]. We really liked the way it came out, so we thought, "Oh, it kind of fits on the record." The recording that’s on the album is actually the first time we’d ever played that song. There were no rehearsals. We didn’t really know what we were going to do. Mick Harvey played the organ, I played drums, and Polly sang.

Obviously, most of her albums are credited to PJ Harvey. On this album, she's Polly Jean Harvey. What do you think is the significance of her changing her billing?

That was absolutely her call. I think she was quite protective of me. She very much said, "I want it to be called John Parish and Polly Jean Harvey, not the other way around." It’s difficult, isn’t it, if you’re an established artist and you suddenly work with someone who’s unknown, or de facto unknown. It’s like, "Oh, PJ Harvey and some bloke" kind of thing. I think she was trying to find the best way of making people realize that it wasn’t another PJ Harvey album. I know that later on, when we did the second collaboration, it was PJ Harvey and John Parish. It in some ways made more sense, but you’re never quite sure how you should go about those things when you’re doing them.

Some articles I’ve read state that the record label, Island, was uncomfortable with the album and believed it to be "commercial suicide." Is there any truth to that?

I’m sure there were people at Island who were a little bit unnerved by it. And by the fact that it was coming out not as a PJ Harvey record, but under a different name, when To Bring You My Love had just been such a relatively commercial success for PJ Harvey. Probably somebody said it was commercial suicide. If they really thought that, I doubt they would have put it out. I think they didn’t really know what it was.

I have to give quite a lot of credit to Polly’s manager, Paul McGuinness. I think if he hadn’t been behind it, perhaps Island Records wouldn’t have gone for it. But Paul heard it and he was like, "This is a really good record." Obviously he had a lot of clout and a lot of credibility with Island.

During this period, Polly was also becoming successful very quickly. Perhaps she was overwhelmed by the expectations from the record label or the degree of media scrutiny. Do you think those factors contributed to her desire to separate herself from the PJ Harvey that people knew?

You’d probably have to ask her. My take would be that it’s not quite as thought-through as that. She doesn’t like to repeat herself. The last thing she would have wanted to do at that time would have been To Bring You My Love 2. Her gut reaction is to try and do something different each time. Which is why I think she’s had such a long, successful career. I think there was a lot of pressure after the first album, Dry—the record company didn’t like Rid Of Me. They didn’t want to have this Steve Albini-recorded, very hard-hitting album. They were hoping for something more commercial, like I would have said Dry was.

If you are able to reinvent yourself each time—which, obviously a lot of artists just don’t have that facility—if you can, it sets you up for a much longer, more interesting career.

The album title refers to a painting. How did the title present itself to you or to Polly?

I was, and I still am, a very big fan of the painting Rosy-Fingered Dawn At Louse Point by [William] de Kooning. I told you I was giving Polly some of the songs I gave her with titles. One of them, which she ended up not writing any lyrics to—the title track from the album—is an instrumental. That was just a title I gave it. There was something about a place called "Louse Point" that sounded sort of desolate and rather unappealing, and I just thought a dance hall—I just liked the atmosphere that the title [suggested].

How would you describe this album’s long-term legacy in Polly’s career? Do you think it’s overdue for more attention?

I mean, I know it’s seemed like there’s a hardcore group of fans that like it very much. In the U.K. and Europe, there were a lot of people [who] liked it pretty much straight away. Perhaps in America it took a little bit longer to find its home. Obviously we never came over, played any shows, did anything in the U.S. at the time of its release. A lot of people talk to me about it 23, 24 years after its release and say they love it very much. I guess it has its fans for sure.

Once this reissue campaign is over, do you think we can expect a new album from Polly next year?

Umm… I don’t know. I can’t really answer that.

Are there any more previously unreleased demos, like the Dry demos, that fans can look forward to as part of this reissue campaign?

Nearly all the albums will come with accompanying demos. Probably the only ones that won’t are our two collaborative albums—the demos would all be instrumental versions of the album, because that’s how we went about it.

What can you tell me about the demos for Is This Desire?

Well, there’s a demo version of "The Garden," which I really, really love. Had it been down to me, I would have said "Put the demo version on the album" when the record came out. Because I just think it’s one of Polly’s greatest demos. Generally, I like the demos for Is This Desire? a lot.

And the b-sides from that record as well—"Sweeter Than Anything," "Nina in Ecstasy." I think there are some really extraordinary songs that didn’t make it onto the proper album.

You and me both. I think "Nina In Ecstasy" should have been on the record. That was my favorite track of the whole set of demos. So I was very disappointed that that didn't make it onto the album.

I’m glad I’m not the only one who thought that track should have been on there. Will those b-sides be included with the reissue package?

Not the initial reissue package, because it’s literally the album plus demos of the album. I might be wrong, but I think there might be some kind of b-sides and rarities thing to come out as another package at some point down the line.

Will you also be reissuing the more recent albums, like Let England Shake and The Hope Six Demolition Project?

I think Hope Six is still available anyway. So I don’t think there’s any point in reissuing that. But I think everything that was unavailable is being made available.

Has Polly herself been very involved in preparing these reissues and overseeing everything?

No, I think she’s delegated to people like me or Head. And she’s delegated the artwork; it’s all the people that did it originally who are working on it again. She’s very good at [delegating].

I’ve always gotten the sense she doesn’t like to dwell on her past work. She’s more interested in doing something new.

As all creative artists should be, I think.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg, The Honorable Music Lover

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