Esperanza Spalding

Photo: Holly Andres

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How Esperanza Spalding Triangulated Music, Wellness & Scientific Inquiry On Her New Album 'SONGWRIGHTS APOTHECARY LAB'

People always bandy around ideas of how music is a healing force, but Esperanza Spalding is putting her money where her mouth is with 'Songwrights Apothecary Lab'—which titles both her new album and affiliation of musicians and researchers

Morgan Enos

GRAMMYs/Sep 25, 2021 - 12:30 am

Esperanza Spalding brought John Coltrane's supernatural vision into material reality. The saxophone icon would have turned 95 this week, and Jazz Twitter lit up with shout-outs, quotes and photos of the saxophone icon gazing, oracle-style, into the middle distance. One of his most famous sayings, which recasts the axiom that "music heals," made the rounds.

"I would like to bring to people something like happiness," Coltrane once said, summing up his life's work. "I would like to discover a method so that if I want it to rain, it will start right away to rain. If one of my friends is ill, I'd like to play a certain song and he will be cured; when he'd be broke, I'd bring out a different song and immediately he'd receive all the money he needed."

"We use that quote on our website just to nod directly to that," the four-time GRAMMY winner and seven-time nominee tells GRAMMY.com over Zoom from a park in Paris. The bassist, singer/songwriter and composer is referring to her Songwrights Apothecary Lab, an affiliation of musicians and health practitioners that acts as a "half songwrighting workshop and half guided-research practice."

It's also the title of her new album: SONGWRIGHTS APOTHECARY LAB, which was released today, Sept. 24, in a cycle of 12 "formwelas." Each has a distinct therapeutic purpose, like guiding the body through the ovulation process or calming an agitated mind when there's trouble at home. Granted, the record won't control the weather or fill your checking account, but these are pragmatic, real-world benefits. Most of all, it illustrates how helpful music really is.

While Spalding and her co-conspirators don't pretend to have all the answers on this subject, they're serious about what they do—and, as such, want their lab to be transparent, above-board and quackery-free. But scientific inquiry aside, "It has to be dope music," she says with a smile. "Many of the elements that are in the songs are there because they're beautiful to me."

GRAMMY.com caught up with Esperanza Spanding about the origin and intent of the Songwrights Apothecary Lab, how she coined "songwright" and "formwela," how this song cycle unspooled from the germ of an idea and the how music fuses the mystical and physical planes.

Esperanza Spalding. Photo: Samuel Prather

People who already know your music may be aware of the Songwrights Apothecary Lab, but how would you boil down the concept for a newcomer?

The Songwrights Apothecary Lab is very much what the title implies. We're songwriters who are playing the role of the apothecary.

We're stepping into that exploration as if we were apothecaries. But it's a lab because we don't have any training yet in that field. An apothecary is somebody who puts together different ingredients and the concoctions are composed, brewed, offered for different, specific needs of a person coming in for the apothecary.

That's what we're doing with our songs. We're learning from collaborating with and learning under the guidance of elders and colleagues who do have experience working with music as a medium for wellness, or supporting wellness. I avoid the word "healing" because it's such a weighted word.

But some of the council members—some of the guides, the people that we're working under the guidance of—come from the fields of therapy and psychology and neuroscience, so we're really hoping to be well-chaperoned as we take this adventure and explore this way of making music with a very specific intention—an intended effect.

I think of John Coltrane's quote about how if his friend was ill, he'd like to play a song that cures them; if they were broke, he'd play another and they'd receive the money they needed. It seems like you're trying to do that in a literal, almost nonmystical way—simply getting the best minds on the job.

That's funny: We use that quote on our website just to nod directly to that. I mean, the mystical is literal, you know? I guess it depends on your definition of "mystical" and "literal." Like, if a person has a need and the need is met through means that we would call "mystical," then it's also literal.

For so much of this exchange between the listener and the practitioner—the music practitioner—the efficacy revolves around sharing intention. It revolves around us agreeing to move toward the same outcome together.

If the song invites you to move your body in a way that's adjacent to dance, and we're both dancing and moving to the music, me as the performer as you and the listener, then we've both altered your physical state there, but it hinges on this agreement.

A theme that comes up a lot in conversation with our council members as our guides is clarifying the intended outcome. Clarifying what we're agreeing to do together in this song, or in this group improv, or in this group exploration. Which is really exciting!

I think, in general, music is a place that the mystical and literal meet because we still don't understand what the hell is happening. Even in these studies—there are thousands of studies about how music affects the body—most of the music wasn't created for the use that is being applied to the study.

This just goes to show you that there's something happening in there the artist didn't intend to happen, but if it's used in a certain way, it has a very specific outcome. And we're not taking ourselves very seriously, which is why we use the word "apothecary." The apothecary is sort of the precursor to the chemist. The precursor to the doctor. They didn't know why coffee relieved your headache.

I think the apothecary is very exploratory. We can't claim to know exactly what we're doing or what exactly the effect is going to be, but we're showing up in this space with a desire for that kind of accountability. We want to be legible and hold ourselves to a high standard of investigation and experimentation.

With a healthy dose of humor and fun, it seems.

Yeah! Because at the end of the day, it's still got to be a good song. If you have to know what to do for it to work—or for you to enjoy it—then you're in trouble.

And also, maybe there's something about how it's a field or a role that I wish existed. I wish there was somebody where, if you're going through a struggle or issue with your boo or you need to study for an exam or you're struggling with some anxiety, that there was somebody in the town that could give you the music you needed to support you through that.

Part of it's maybe we're feeling the ache, or we're grieving the absence of something we don't have in our culture. It's kind of like playing dress-up, wishing that we had it. And then maybe we become that. I think there are people who do that without that nomenclature around it of a "healer."

But I definitely think there's a little grieving for something we don't have at the heart of the project.

What you're talking about is fairly broad, but still far more specific than "We just want to spread good vibes, man! Spread the love!" That's how people talk, but you seem more interested in "She's grieving for her little brother. How can we support her today?"

Yeah. I do think that most musicians I've ever known are writing from a place of need, or writing from a place of wanting to create for themselves a state that they prefer. Even if that's just catharsis or confession.

I think the biggest difference I'm noticing in the musicians and in the outcome here in the context of the lab is that we're holding ourselves accountable in a different way. We don't want any bulls*** in it. Once we step in, we want to show up as an ally—as a source of support for someone going through something.

It really strips away a whole milieu of concerns or senses of obligation to industry or taste or audiences. It strips away a layer of concern that doesn't really concern the purpose of bringing forth the best music we have to make.

It's been really beautiful to see what comes out of us musically when we're showing up in a room—in a lab—with the shared intention to offer something to another person we don't know. To support them through difficulty.

As I said, I think most musicians are doing that on some level, but it's easy for other, hindering motives to creep in and start meddling with that clear current that I think is innate to all people, and especially music makers. I think music makers are more in touch with that clear current we can share with each other and help each other feel better.

There are a lot of "wellness" hustlers out there in the world. I'm sure you take great pains to not be lumped in with them.

Right, right, right. That's why transparency is so important.

Also, I've always wondered how all these studies in music therapy apply in the domain where most people actually experience music, right? I've never had a music therapy session under that name, but I engage with music all the time.

There's all this knowledge and information about ways that music affects our psyche, spirit and relationships, so how is that information going to move out of the lab, and out of the clinic, and out of the dyad of the practitioner and the patient? Because most people don't receive music in the clinical context. We receive it casually—through these commercial vehicles. Streaming platforms or albums or whatever.

So, part of the longing—of the questions—is "How are we going to integrate parts of that massive field of knowledge? How are we going to integrate parts of that technology into our work, to enhance our work?"

It's incredible to think how many people around the world are studying music's effect on us. I'm sure advertisers are studying it, too, so we're probably always being subjected to the fruits of that research. My curiosity is just like, "Wow, what can performers and musicians and songwriters integrate to enhance the benefit to the listener since we're going to be making this music anyway?"

When I have transformative experiences listening to Alice Coltrane or Bob Marley or Popol Vuh, I wonder what's going on under the hood. It seems like you guys are trying to answer that question.

Or to work with it for specific needs. There's some research about how music affects postoperative nausea, which is really interesting. To think: Maybe somebody I know is struggling with postoperative nausea and there's music about the music that was used that helped experience less nausea and less vomiting.

It's like, "Cool! Can I integrate the elements of the music that was at work there into the music I'm making?" So, the person who maybe doesn't want to listen to that style of music—who wants to listen to my style of music—can receive the musical benefit of that intervention.

Preference has so much to do with the efficacy of music, which is part of why I'm excited about the potential to identify elements of music that do create specific effects in the body and integrate those elements within your sound and your style. Whoever you are as a musician.

Questions have come up in the lab of how much of what's at work here is just being cared for. Of how much of what's at work here is just getting that little extra attention and intervention of someone bringing music to you when you're ailing, and how much of this has to do with music in general, just as a vibrational phenomenon. How it has a multi-purpose beneficial effect on the body.

These aren't questions we're pretending we're going to answer in the lab, but they're questions we keep present, you know what I mean? Just so we don't get ahead of ourselves.

Esperanza Spalding. Photo: Jati Lindsay

I love this quote from Grant Jones from the student researchers in the lab: He warns against abstracting ourselves from our own knowing. Part of the reason that sometimes we refresh our familiarity with these questions—with these kinds of conundrums—is so that we don't think that the only way to make beneficial music is by integrating proofs from scientific studying.

That's not it. That's not it. Just being a musician and having the life experience and the accumulated practice of making music for different effects—even if they weren't "salutary" effects—that is a training.

We do have the deep, intuitive knowing that if the secret ingredient remains invisible and fugitive—if it's being looked at through the lens of scientific inquiry—we want to remind ourselves to do what Grant Jones says and not abstract ourselves from our own knowing. I love that.

To dig into the album a little bit, tell me how that first seed—that first "Formwela"—came to be, and where that word comes from.

Well, they're formulas in the sense that they're made with pretty specific ingredients and elements, you know? They're put together in a way to support an intended outcome or shift an experience.

Also, they are formed, you know? The reason we have a -ght in the word "songwright" is because we're building something. We're building a thing of substance with the songs out of building materials, using ingredients, using la. It's a form that we sing. It's a form-we-la. It's kind of a double entendre, I guess.

"Formwela 1"—I remember in August 2020, after a lot of exploring through the summer, that the first inaugural cohort of Songwrights Apothecary Lab songwriters and council members [convened]. That was kind of a trial run, I guess. That was about just about learning what we were even [Chuckles] pretending to do.

I remember that came because I was wondering if, in all of this wanting to offer people songs for a specific outcome, what if you don't have access to a device? What if you need this song but you're nowhere near a thing [to play it back on] and it would be problematic if you started singing?

So, I started doing research about the effect on the body from just hearing the song internally. For "Formwela 1," the idea is that you use it through ovulation, which means hearing it for yourself internally.

That was the seed for "Formwela 1," and then it got grown. In August, I was like, "Damn. I think what I would like to do is to make music for people who are stuck at home right now, like I was stuck at home." I thought there were so many dimensions to being at home, I guess.

It's not like there's one thing about it that's difficult. It came as a feeling for it—those three aspects of being stuck at home that I wanted to focus on with the first three songs publicly offered out of the lab.

You could play "Formwela 4" for yourself anytime, too, but if you're in a place where you can't play the music and there's a very stressful dynamic at the house, you can turn on the song in your own head.

How would you explain how the music unspools through the different movements?

Well, the idea is that the first three Formwelas are a suite, I guess. But "Formwela 1" was growing out of that specific intention. "Formwela 2" is about: You could discreetly play that song as atmosphere, as "background music" in an environment that was kind of tense.

The elements that are in that song are specifically about reducing anxiety and tension in the body and mind. The idea is that if you find yourself in a very intense situation, you can turn it on in the back and it might offer some soothing to everybody who's in the room—if nothing else, to yourself.

And then "Formwela 3" is about support to reground yourself after you've just made it through a tough dynamic in the house. That's more about coming back to your center—coming back to yourself. Like "Whew!" Remembering that it's passed and you can reground, recenter, refresh your sense of wellness and togetherness and oxygenation. Deep breathing, deep presence, and move on to whatever's next.

And, of course, like I said before, it has to be dope music. Many of the elements that are in the songs are there because they're beautiful to me—because I like how they sound.

What can you tell me about some of your collaborators here, like Ganavya and Corey King?

Corey King is like a musical brother. I've been working with him since [2012's] Radio Music Society. I know him from New York through a mutual friend called Igmar Thomas, who has a big band called Revive. Corey played in that big band. We just became friends. He's an amazing musician in his own right, as I'm sure you know.

During Radio Music Society, I learned he could sing. Then, I invited him to be part of [2016's] Emily's D+Evolution and that's where I learned about his musicianship as a songwriter himself. We've always just wanted to do something together. We became very close through touring and know a lot about each other's history and family. I learned he's a person who's open to that kind of exploring.

So, I was in Seattle, he was in Portland. I was like "Would you like to collaborate in this lab?" and he was like "Yes! I'm down for the research part, too. I'm down for the exploration."

Ganavya, we actually met at Harvard. She is a presence everywhere she goes, obviously, so I knew about her as a musician. She's a student there in a program I teach in. Then, she became a teaching fellow through one of my courses. Through that, I started to learn about her history—her background in psychology and collective singing.

There's a public example of a human being who embodies the "mystical" and "literal" because she's carrying so much experiential knowledge from a spiritual perspective of how music is used to support people through very specific ailments or difficult situations or faciliatory situations. But she also has a background in psychology, which is in the realm of the "literal"—though, clearly, we're still mysteries to each other.

So, musically, we have an incredible connection. And then we have a very deep connection just in terms of our passion for study, you know? She's such an impeccable researcher. She has such ethics and such thoroughness that she's an incredible person to work with because she won't let me skim over the surface of something.

For instance, she's the person who pointed out that any study that uses a short-term measurement of cortisol levels—you can't put too much weight in it because short-term shifts in cortisol levels are not something that's actually possible to track.

To know for sure that whatever you want to measure as the element that may be tracking cortisol levels—you can't tell if the person was just thinking of a memory that made them happy. It could be [that] rather than the musical intervention. She's just really thorough. And, again, a profound musician in her own right.

And I just want to say about both of them: Yes, we're in this lab, and yes, we want to know about the technical stuff. But personally, part of the reason I reached out to them is that I find their voices really healing. It soothes me, and I don't even know how to define that further. I don't need to define that further.

I just know that when I hear Corey King sing, I feel yummy inside. And when I hear Ganavya sing, I feel soothed, and I feel yummy inside. In the spirit of this lab, they're beings I want to invite in to amplify their voice out—in collaboration with my sound, obviously. That's a no-brainer, you know? You don't need to go study 50 experiments to know that's a good idea.

Before we jump off, give me a specific memory in your life where music provided a specific, therapeutic purpose—where it got you out of a jam.

Whew! That happens a lot. Let me think. [Ponders for several beats.]

There's one coming up. I'm thinking of when you're doing a drive that's too long and you really shouldn't still be driving, but there's some reason you have to keep driving. Like, there's a gig. Of course, the right thing to do is pull over and sleep, but there are times we're in the grind culture. We're in the grind mentality, like: I can't stop!

If I put on "Native Dancer" by Wayne Shorter and Milton Nascimento, I'm awake. I'm awake. It's like coffee. I'm energized. I have to sing along. Maybe it's oxygenating my brain because I'm breathing deep, because I'm sighing, because I love the music so much.

Well, that harkens back to the idea of the apothecary. "Let me go through my bag of tonics. Ray Charles, Herbie Hancock… ah! Wayne Shorter!"

Exactly! We know this. We do this all the time. We know how to do this for ourselves.

There was an era in Italy when many painters started collaborating with architects and engineers and started enhancing the accuracy of perspective and started to find these techniques to make the two-dimensional medium appear 3D. It's not to diminish what painters were doing before, and it's not to say that was some pivot point and everything after that was better.

But something happened. Something happened when they started collaborating with intention, with those other technologies. For us, maybe it's no more than that. We have a sense that this medium can be augmented by this kind of collaboration with technicians and practitioners from these other fields, and we want to discover what emerges.

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Kendrick Lamar

Photo: Jeff Kravitz/FilmMagic

video

GRAMMY Rewind: Kendrick Lamar Honors Hip-Hop's Greats While Accepting Best Rap Album GRAMMY For 'To Pimp a Butterfly' In 2016

Upon winning the GRAMMY for Best Rap Album for 'To Pimp a Butterfly,' Kendrick Lamar thanked those that helped him get to the stage, and the artists that blazed the trail for him.

Carena Liptak

GRAMMYs/Oct 13, 2023 - 06:01 pm

Updated Friday Oct. 13, 2023 to include info about Kendrick Lamar's most recent GRAMMY wins, as of the 2023 GRAMMYs.

A GRAMMY veteran these days, Kendrick Lamar has won 17 GRAMMYs and has received 47 GRAMMY nominations overall. A sizable chunk of his trophies came from the 58th annual GRAMMY Awards in 2016, when he walked away with five — including his first-ever win in the Best Rap Album category.

This installment of GRAMMY Rewind turns back the clock to 2016, revisiting Lamar's acceptance speech upon winning Best Rap Album for To Pimp A Butterfly. Though Lamar was alone on stage, he made it clear that he wouldn't be at the top of his game without the help of a broad support system.

"First off, all glory to God, that's for sure," he said, kicking off a speech that went on to thank his parents, who he described as his "those who gave me the responsibility of knowing, of accepting the good with the bad."

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He also extended his love and gratitude to his fiancée, Whitney Alford, and shouted out his Top Dawg Entertainment labelmates. Lamar specifically praised Top Dawg's CEO, Anthony Tiffith, for finding and developing raw talent that might not otherwise get the chance to pursue their musical dreams.

"We'd never forget that: Taking these kids out of the projects, out of Compton, and putting them right here on this stage, to be the best that they can be," Lamar — a Compton native himself — continued, leading into an impassioned conclusion spotlighting some of the cornerstone rap albums that came before To Pimp a Butterfly.

"Hip-hop. Ice Cube. This is for hip-hop," he said. "This is for Snoop Dogg, Doggystyle. This is for Illmatic, this is for Nas. We will live forever. Believe that."

To Pimp a Butterfly singles "Alright" and "These Walls" earned Lamar three more GRAMMYs that night, the former winning Best Rap Performance and Best Rap Song and the latter taking Best Rap/Sung Collaboration (the song features Bilal, Anna Wise and Thundercat). He also won Best Music Video for the remix of Taylor Swift's "Bad Blood."

Lamar has since won Best Rap Album two more times, taking home the golden gramophone in 2018 for his blockbuster LP DAMN., and in 2023 for his bold fifth album, Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers.

Watch Lamar's full acceptance speech above, and check back at GRAMMY.com every Friday for more GRAMMY Rewind episodes.

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Franc Moody

Photo: Rachel Kupfer

list

A Guide To Modern Funk For The Dance Floor: L'Imperatrice, Shiro Schwarz, Franc Moody, Say She She & Moniquea

James Brown changed the sound of popular music when he found the power of the one and unleashed the funk with "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag." Today, funk lives on in many forms, including these exciting bands from across the world.

Ana Monroy Yglesias

GRAMMYs/Nov 25, 2022 - 04:23 pm

It's rare that a genre can be traced back to a single artist or group, but for funk, that was James Brown. The Godfather of Soul coined the phrase and style of playing known as "on the one," where the first downbeat is emphasized, instead of the typical second and fourth beats in pop, soul and other styles. As David Cheal eloquently explains, playing on the one "left space for phrases and riffs, often syncopated around the beat, creating an intricate, interlocking grid which could go on and on." You know a funky bassline when you hear it; its fat chords beg your body to get up and groove.

Brown's 1965 classic, "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag," became one of the first funk hits, and has been endlessly sampled and covered over the years, along with his other groovy tracks. Of course, many other funk acts followed in the '60s, and the genre thrived in the '70s and '80s as the disco craze came and went, and the originators of hip-hop and house music created new music from funk and disco's strong, flexible bones built for dancing.

Legendary funk bassist Bootsy Collins learned the power of the one from playing in Brown's band, and brought it to George Clinton, who created P-funk, an expansive, Afrofuturistic, psychedelic exploration of funk with his various bands and projects, including Parliament-Funkadelic. Both Collins and Clinton remain active and funkin', and have offered their timeless grooves to collabs with younger artists, including Kali Uchis, Silk Sonic, and Omar Apollo; and Kendrick Lamar, Flying Lotus, and Thundercat, respectively.

In the 1980s, electro-funk was born when artists like Afrika Bambaataa, Man Parrish, and Egyptian Lover began making futuristic beats with the Roland TR-808 drum machine — often with robotic vocals distorted through a talk box. A key distinguishing factor of electro-funk is a de-emphasis on vocals, with more phrases than choruses and verses. The sound influenced contemporaneous hip-hop, funk and electronica, along with acts around the globe, while current acts like Chromeo, DJ Stingray, and even Egyptian Lover himself keep electro-funk alive and well.

Today, funk lives in many places, with its heavy bass and syncopated grooves finding way into many nooks and crannies of music. There's nu-disco and boogie funk, nodding back to disco bands with soaring vocals and dance floor-designed instrumentation. G-funk continues to influence Los Angeles hip-hop, with innovative artists like Dam-Funk and Channel Tres bringing the funk and G-funk, into electro territory. Funk and disco-centered '70s revival is definitely having a moment, with acts like Ghost Funk Orchestra and Parcels, while its sparkly sprinklings can be heard in pop from Dua Lipa, Doja Cat, and, in full "Soul Train" character, Silk Sonic. There are also acts making dreamy, atmospheric music with a solid dose of funk, such as Khruangbin’s global sonic collage.

There are many bands that play heavily with funk, creating lush grooves designed to get you moving. Read on for a taste of five current modern funk and nu-disco artists making band-led uptempo funk built for the dance floor. Be sure to press play on the Spotify playlist above, and check out GRAMMY.com's playlist on Apple Music, Amazon Music and Pandora.

Say She She

Aptly self-described as "discodelic soul," Brooklyn-based seven-piece Say She She make dreamy, operatic funk, led by singer-songwriters Nya Gazelle Brown, Piya Malik and Sabrina Mileo Cunningham. Their '70s girl group-inspired vocal harmonies echo, sooth and enchant as they cover poignant topics with feminist flair.

While they’ve been active in the New York scene for a few years, they’ve gained wider acclaim for the irresistible music they began releasing this year, including their debut album, Prism. Their 2022 debut single "Forget Me Not" is an ode to ground-breaking New York art collective Guerilla Girls, and "Norma" is their protest anthem in response to the news that Roe vs. Wade could be (and was) overturned. The band name is a nod to funk legend Nile Rodgers, from the "Le freak, c'est chi" exclamation in Chic's legendary tune "Le Freak."

Moniquea

Moniquea's unique voice oozes confidence, yet invites you in to dance with her to the super funky boogie rhythms. The Pasadena, California artist was raised on funk music; her mom was in a cover band that would play classics like Aretha Franklin’s "Get It Right" and Gladys Knight’s "Love Overboard." Moniquea released her first boogie funk track at 20 and, in 2011, met local producer XL Middelton — a bonafide purveyor of funk. She's been a star artist on his MoFunk Records ever since, and they've collabed on countless tracks, channeling West Coast energy with a heavy dose of G-funk, sunny lyrics and upbeat, roller disco-ready rhythms.

Her latest release is an upbeat nod to classic West Coast funk, produced by Middleton, and follows her February 2022 groovy, collab-filled album, On Repeat.

Shiro Schwarz

Shiro Schwarz is a Mexico City-based duo, consisting of Pammela Rojas and Rafael Marfil, who helped establish a modern funk scene in the richly creative Mexican metropolis. On "Electrify" — originally released in 2016 on Fat Beats Records and reissued in 2021 by MoFunk — Shiro Schwarz's vocals playfully contrast each other, floating over an insistent, upbeat bassline and an '80s throwback electro-funk rhythm with synth flourishes.

Their music manages to be both nostalgic and futuristic — and impossible to sit still to. 2021 single "Be Kind" is sweet, mellow and groovy, perfect chic lounge funk. Shiro Schwarz’s latest track, the joyfully nostalgic "Hey DJ," is a collab with funkstress Saucy Lady and U-Key.

L'Impératrice

L'Impératrice (the empress in French) are a six-piece Parisian group serving an infectiously joyful blend of French pop, nu-disco, funk and psychedelia. Flore Benguigui's vocals are light and dreamy, yet commanding of your attention, while lyrics have a feminist touch.

During their energetic live sets, L'Impératrice members Charles de Boisseguin and Hagni Gwon (keys), David Gaugué (bass), Achille Trocellier (guitar), and Tom Daveau (drums) deliver extended instrumental jam sessions to expand and connect their music. Gaugué emphasizes the thick funky bass, and Benguigui jumps around the stage while sounding like an angel. L’Impératrice’s latest album, 2021’s Tako Tsubo, is a sunny, playful French disco journey.

Franc Moody

Franc Moody's bio fittingly describes their music as "a soul funk and cosmic disco sound." The London outfit was birthed by friends Ned Franc and Jon Moody in the early 2010s, when they were living together and throwing parties in North London's warehouse scene. In 2017, the group grew to six members, including singer and multi-instrumentalist Amber-Simone.

Their music feels at home with other electro-pop bands like fellow Londoners Jungle and Aussie act Parcels. While much of it is upbeat and euphoric, Franc Moody also dips into the more chilled, dreamy realm, such as the vibey, sultry title track from their recently released Into the Ether.

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Billy Idol

Photo: Steven Sebring

interview

Living Legends: Billy Idol On Survival, Revival & Breaking Out Of The Cage

"One foot in the past and one foot into the future," Billy Idol says, describing his decade-spanning career in rock. "We’ve got the best of all possible worlds because that has been the modus operandi of Billy Idol."

Bryan Reesman

GRAMMYs/Nov 25, 2022 - 04:19 pm

Living Legends is a series that spotlights icons in music still going strong today. This week, GRAMMY.com spoke with Billy Idol about his latest EP, Cage, and continuing to rock through decades of changing tastes.

Billy Idol is a true rock 'n' roll survivor who has persevered through cultural shifts and personal struggles. While some may think of Idol solely for "Rebel Yell" and "White Wedding," the singer's musical influences span genres and many of his tunes are less turbo-charged than his '80s hits would belie.

Idol first made a splash in the latter half of the '70s with the British punk band Generation X. In the '80s, he went on to a solo career combining rock, pop, and punk into a distinct sound that transformed him and his musical partner, guitarist Steve Stevens, into icons. They have racked up multiple GRAMMY nominations, in addition to one gold, one double platinum, and four platinum albums thanks to hits like "Cradle Of Love," "Flesh For Fantasy," and "Eyes Without A Face."

But, unlike many legacy artists, Idol is anything but a relic. Billy continues to produce vital Idol music by collaborating with producers and songwriters — including Miley Cyrus — who share his forward-thinking vision. He will play a five-show Vegas residency in November, and filmmaker Jonas Akerlund is working on a documentary about Idol’s life.

His latest release is Cage, the second in a trilogy of annual four-song EPs. The title track is a classic Billy Idol banger expressing the desire to free himself from personal constraints and live a better life. Other tracks on Cage incorporate metallic riffing and funky R&B grooves.

Idol continues to reckon with his demons — they both grappled with addiction during the '80s — and the singer is open about those struggles on the record and the page. (Idol's 2014 memoir Dancing With Myself, details a 1990 motorcycle accident that nearly claimed a leg, and how becoming a father steered him to reject hard drugs. "Bitter Taste," from his last EP, The Roadside, reflects on surviving the accident.)

Although Idol and Stevens split in the late '80s — the skilled guitarist fronted Steve Stevens & The Atomic Playboys, and collaborated with Michael Jackson, Rick Ocasek, Vince Neil, and Harold Faltermeyer (on the GRAMMY-winning "Top Gun Anthem") — their common history and shared musical bond has been undeniable. The duo reunited in 2001 for an episode of "VH1 Storytellers" and have been back in the saddle for two decades. Their union remains one of the strongest collaborations in rock 'n roll history.

While there is recognizable personnel and a distinguishable sound throughout a lot of his work, Billy Idol has always pushed himself to try different things. Idol discusses his musical journey, his desire to constantly move forward, and the strong connection that he shares with Stevens.

Steve has said that you like to mix up a variety of styles, yet everyone assumes you're the "Rebel Yell"/"White Wedding" guy. But if they really listen to your catalog, it's vastly different.

Yeah, that's right. With someone like Steve Stevens, and then back in the day Keith Forsey producing... [Before that] Generation X actually did move around inside punk rock. We didn't stay doing just the Ramones two-minute music. We actually did a seven-minute song. [Laughs]. We did always mix things up.

Then when I got into my solo career, that was the fun of it. With someone like Steve, I knew what he could do. I could see whatever we needed to do, we could nail it. The world was my oyster musically.

"Cage" is a classic-sounding Billy Idol rocker, then "Running From The Ghost" is almost metal, like what the Devil's Playground album was like back in the mid-2000s. "Miss Nobody" comes out of nowhere with this pop/R&B flavor. What inspired that?

We really hadn't done anything like that since something like "Flesh For Fantasy" [which] had a bit of an R&B thing about it. Back in the early days of Billy Idol, "Hot In The City" and "Mony Mony" had girls [singing] on the backgrounds.

We always had a bit of R&B really, so it was actually fun to revisit that. We just hadn't done anything really quite like that for a long time. That was one of the reasons to work with someone like Sam Hollander [for the song "Rita Hayworth"] on The Roadside. We knew we could go [with him] into an R&B world, and he's a great songwriter and producer. That's the fun of music really, trying out these things and seeing if you can make them stick.

I listen to new music by veteran artists and debate that with some people. I'm sure you have those fans that want their nostalgia, and then there are some people who will embrace the newer stuff. Do you find it’s a challenge to reach people with new songs?

Obviously, what we're looking for is, how do we somehow have one foot in the past and one foot into the future? We’ve got the best of all possible worlds because that has been the modus operandi of Billy Idol.

You want to do things that are true to you, and you don't just want to try and do things that you're seeing there in the charts today. I think that we're achieving it with things like "Running From The Ghost" and "Cage" on this new EP. I think we’re managing to do both in a way.

**Obviously, "Running From The Ghost" is about addiction, all the stuff that you went through, and in "Cage" you’re talking about freeing yourself from a lot of personal shackles. Was there any one moment in your life that made you really thought I have to not let this weigh me down anymore?**

I mean, things like the motorcycle accident I had, that was a bit of a wake up call way back. It was 32 years ago. But there were things like that, years ago, that gradually made me think about what I was doing with my life. I didn't want to ruin it, really. I didn't want to throw it away, and it made [me] be less cavalier.

I had to say to myself, about the drugs and stuff, that I've been there and I've done it. There’s no point in carrying on doing it. You couldn't get any higher. You didn't want to throw your life away casually, and I was close to doing that. It took me a bit of time, but then gradually I was able to get control of myself to a certain extent [with] drugs and everything. And I think Steve's done the same thing. We're on a similar path really, which has been great because we're in the same boat in terms of lyrics and stuff.

So a lot of things like that were wake up calls. Even having grandchildren and just watching my daughter enlarging her family and everything; it just makes you really positive about things and want to show a positive side to how you're feeling, about where you're going. We've lived with the demons so long, we've found a way to live with them. We found a way to be at peace with our demons, in a way. Maybe not completely, but certainly to where we’re enjoying what we do and excited about it.

[When writing] "Running From The Ghost" it was easy to go, what was the ghost for us? At one point, we were very drug addicted in the '80s. And Steve in particular is super sober [now]. I mean, I still vape pot and stuff. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but it’s incredible. All I want to be able to do is have a couple of glasses of wine at a restaurant or something. I can do that now.

I think working with people that are super talented, you just feel confident. That is a big reason why you open up and express yourself more because you feel comfortable with what's around you.

Did you watch Danny Boyle's recent Sex Pistols mini-series?

I did, yes.

You had a couple of cameos; well, an actor who portrayed you did. How did you react to it? How accurate do you think it was in portraying that particular time period?

I love Jonesy’s book, I thought his book was incredible. It's probably one of the best bio books really. It was incredible and so open. I was looking forward to that a lot.

It was as if [the show] kind of stayed with Steve [Jones’ memoir] about halfway through, and then departed from it. [John] Lydon, for instance, was never someone I ever saw acting out; he's more like that today. I never saw him do something like jump up in the room and run around going crazy. The only time I saw him ever do that was when they signed the recording deal with Virgin in front of Buckingham Palace. Whereas Sid Vicious was always acting out; he was always doing something in a horrible way or shouting at someone. I don't remember John being like that. I remember him being much more introverted.

But then I watched interviews with some of the actors about coming to grips with the parts they were playing. And they were saying, we knew punk rock happened but just didn't know any of the details. So I thought well, there you go. If ["Pistol" is] informing a lot of people who wouldn't know anything about punk rock, maybe that's what's good about it.

Maybe down the road John Lydon will get the chance to do John's version of the Pistols story. Maybe someone will go a lot deeper into it and it won't be so surface. But maybe you needed this just to get people back in the flow.

We had punk and metal over here in the States, but it feels like England it was legitimately more dangerous. British society was much more rigid.

It never went [as] mega in America. It went big in England. It exploded when the Pistols did that interview with [TV host Bill] Grundy, that lorry truck driver put his boot through his own TV, and all the national papers had "the filth and the fury" [headlines].

We went from being unknown to being known overnight. We waited a year, Generation X. We even told them [record labels] no for nine months to a year. Every record company wanted their own punk rock group. So it went really mega in England, and it affected the whole country – the style, the fashions, everything. I mean, the Ramones were massive in England. Devo had a No. 1 song [in England] with "Satisfaction" in '77. Actually, Devo was as big as or bigger than the Pistols.

You were ahead of the pop-punk thing that happened in the late '90s, and a lot of it became tongue-in-cheek by then. It didn't have the same sense of rebelliousness as the original movement. It was more pop.

It had become a style. There was a famous book in England called Revolt Into Style — and that's what had happened, a revolt that turned into style which then they were able to duplicate in their own way. Even recently, Billie Joe [Armstrong] did his own version of "Gimme Some Truth," the Lennon song we covered way back in 1977.

When we initially were making [punk] music, it hadn't become accepted yet. It was still dangerous and turned into a style that people were used to. We were still breaking barriers.

You have a band called Generation Sex with Steve Jones and Paul Cook. I assume you all have an easier time playing Pistols and Gen X songs together now and not worrying about getting spit on like back in the '70s?

Yeah, definitely. When I got to America I told the group I was putting it together, "No one spits at the audience."

We had five years of being spat on [in the UK], and it was revolting. And they spat at you if they liked you. If they didn't like it they smashed your gear up. One night, I remember I saw blood on my T-shirt, and I think Joe Strummer got meningitis when spit went in his mouth.

You had to go through a lot to become successful, it wasn't like you just kind of got up there and did a couple of gigs. I don't think some young rock bands really get that today.

With punk going so mega in England, we definitely got a leg up. We still had a lot of work to get where we got to, and rightly so because you find out that you need to do that. A lot of groups in the old days would be together three to five years before they ever made a record, and that time is really important. In a way, what was great about punk rock for me was it was very much a learning period. I really learned a lot [about] recording music and being in a group and even writing songs.

Then when I came to America, it was a flow, really. I also really started to know what I wanted Billy Idol to be. It took me a little bit, but I kind of knew what I wanted Billy Idol to be. And even that took a while to let it marinate.

You and Miley Cyrus have developed a good working relationship in the last several years. How do you think her fans have responded to you, and your fans have responded to her?

I think they're into it. It's more the record company that she had didn't really get "Night Crawling"— it was one of the best songs on Plastic Hearts, and I don't think they understood that. They wanted to go with Dua Lipa, they wanted to go with the modern, young acts, and I don't think they realized that that song was resonating with her fans. Which is a shame really because, with Andrew Watt producing, it's a hit song.

But at the same time, I enjoyed doing it. It came out really good and it's very Billy Idol. In fact, I think it’s more Billy Idol than Miley Cyrus. I think it shows you where Andrew Watt was. He was excited about doing a Billy Idol track. She's fun to work with. She’s a really great person and she works at her singing — I watched her rehearsing for the Super Bowl performance she gave. She rehearsed all Saturday morning, all Saturday afternoon, and Sunday morning and it was that afternoon. I have to admire her fortitude. She really cares.

I remember when you went on "Viva La Bam" back in 2005 and decided to give Bam Margera’s Lamborghini a new sunroof by taking a power saw to it. Did he own that car? Was that a rental?

I think it was his car.

Did he get over it later on?

He loved it. [Laughs] He’s got a wacky sense of humor. He’s fantastic, actually. I’m really sorry to see what he's been going through just lately. He's going through a lot, and I wish him the best. He's a fantastic person, and it's a shame that he's struggling so much with his addictions. I know what it's like. It's not easy.

Musically, what is the synergy like with you guys during the past 10 years, doing Kings and Queens of the Underground and this new stuff? What is your working relationship like now in this more sober, older, mature version of you two as opposed to what it was like back in the '80s?

In lots of ways it’s not so different because we always wrote the songs together, we always talked about what we're going to do together. It was just that we were getting high at the same time.We're just not getting [that way now] but we're doing all the same things.

We're still talking about things, still [planning] things:What are we going to do next? How are we going to find new people to work with? We want to find new producers. Let's be a little bit more timely about putting stuff out.That part of our relationship is the same, you know what I mean? That never got affected. We just happened to be overloading in the '80s.

The relationship’s… matured and it's carrying on being fruitful, and I think that's pretty amazing. Really, most people don't get to this place. Usually, they hate each other by now. [Laughs] We also give each other space. We're not stopping each other doing things outside of what we’re working on together. All of that enables us to carry on working together. I love and admire him. I respect him. He's been fantastic. I mean, just standing there on stage with him is always a treat. And he’s got an immensely great sense of humor. I think that's another reason why we can hang together after all this time because we've got the sense of humor to enable us to go forward.

There's a lot of fan reaction videos online, and I noticed a lot of younger women like "Rebel Yell" because, unlike a lot of other '80s alpha male rock tunes, you're talking about satisfying your lover.

It was about my girlfriend at the time, Perri Lister. It was about how great I thought she was, how much I was in love with her, and how great women are, how powerful they are.

It was a bit of a feminist anthem in a weird way. It was all about how relationships can free you and add a lot to your life. It was a cry of love, nothing to do with the Civil War or anything like that. Perri was a big part of my life, a big part of being Billy Idol. I wanted to write about it. I'm glad that's the effect.

Is there something you hope people get out of the songs you've been doing over the last 10 years? Do you find yourself putting out a message that keeps repeating?

Well, I suppose, if anything, is that you can come to terms with your life, you can keep a hold of it. You can work your dreams into reality in a way and, look, a million years later, still be enjoying it.

The only reason I'm singing about getting out of the cage is because I kicked out of the cage years ago. I joined Generation X when I said to my parents, "I'm leaving university, and I'm joining a punk rock group." And they didn't even know what a punk rock group was. Years ago, I’d write things for myself that put me on this path, so that maybe in 2022 I could sing something like "Cage" and be owning this territory and really having a good time. This is the life I wanted.

The original UK punk movement challenged societal norms. Despite all the craziness going on throughout the world, it seems like a lot of modern rock bands are afraid to do what you guys were doing. Do you think we'll see a shift in that?

Yeah. Art usually reacts to things, so I would think eventually there will be a massive reaction to the pop music that’s taken over — the middle of the road music, and then this kind of right wing politics. There will be a massive reaction if there's not already one. I don’t know where it will come from exactly. You never know who's gonna do [it].

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2023 GRAMMYs

Graphic: The Recording Academy

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Hear All Of The Best Country Solo Performance Nominees For The 2023 GRAMMY Awards

The 2023 GRAMMY Award nominees for Best Country Solo Performance highlight country music's newcomers and veterans, featuring hits from Kelsea Ballerini, Zach Bryan, Miranda Lambert, Maren Morris and Willie Nelson.

Jim Beaugez

GRAMMYs/Nov 23, 2022 - 03:01 pm

Country music's evolution is well represented in the 2023 GRAMMY nominees for Best Country Solo Performance. From crossover pop hooks to red-dirt outlaw roots, the genre's most celebrated elements are on full display — thanks to rising stars, leading ladies and country icons.

Longtime hitmaker Miranda Lambert delivered a soulful performance on the rootsy ballad "In His Arms," an arrangement as sparing as the windswept west Texas highlands where she co-wrote the song. Viral newcomer Zach Bryan dug into similar organic territory on the Oklahoma side of the Red River for "Something in the Orange," his voice accompanied with little more than an acoustic guitar.

Two of country's 2010s breakout stars are clearly still shining, too, as Maren Morris and Kelsea Ballerini both received Best Country Solo Performance GRAMMY nods. Morris channeled the determination that drove her leap-of-faith move from Texas to Nashville for the playful clap-along "Circles Around This Town," while Ballerini brought poppy hooks with a country edge on the infectiously upbeat "HEARTFIRST."

Rounding out the category is the one and only Willie Nelson, who paid tribute to his late friend Billy Joe Shaver with a cover of "Live Forever" — a fitting sentiment for the 89-year-old legend, who is approaching his eighth decade in the business.

As the excitement builds for the 2023 GRAMMYs on Feb. 5, 2023, let's take a closer look at this year's nominees for Best Country Solo Performance.

Kelsea Ballerini — "HEARTFIRST"

In the tradition of Shania Twain, Faith Hill and Carrie Underwood, Kelsea Ballerini represents Nashville's sunnier side — and her single "HEARTFIRST" is a slice of bright, uptempo, confectionary country-pop for the ages.

Ballerini sings about leaning into a carefree crush with her heart on her sleeve, pushing aside her reservations and taking a risk on love at first sight. The scene plays out in a bar room and a back seat, as she sweeps nimbly through the verses and into a shimmering chorus, when the narrator decides she's ready to "wake up in your T-shirt."

There are enough steel guitar licks to let you know you're listening to a country song, but the story and melody are universal. "HEARTFIRST" is Ballerini's third GRAMMY nod, but first in the Best Country Solo Performance category.

Zach Bryan — "Something In The Orange"

Zach Bryan blew into Music City seemingly from nowhere in 2017, when his original song "Heading South" — recorded on an iPhone — went viral. Then an active officer in the U.S. Navy, the Oklahoma native chased his muse through music during his downtime, striking a chord with country music fans on stark songs led by his acoustic guitar and affecting vocals.

After his honorable discharge in 2021, Bryan began his music career in earnest, and in 2022 released "Something in the Orange," a haunting ballad that stakes a convincing claim to the territory between Tyler Childers and Jason Isbell in both sonics and songwriting. Slashing slide guitar drives home the song's heartbreak, as Bryan pines for a lover whose tail lights have long since vanished over the horizon.

"Something In The Orange" marks Bryan's first-ever GRAMMY nomination.

Miranda Lambert — "In His Arms"

Miranda Lambert is the rare, chart-topping contemporary country artist who does more than pay lip service to the genre's rural American roots. "In His Arms" originally surfaced on 2021's The Marfa Tapes, a casual recording Lambert made with Jack Ingram and Jon Randall in Marfa, Texas — a tiny arts enclave in the middle of the west Texas high desert.

In this proper studio version — recorded for her 2022 album, Palomino — Lambert retains the structure and organic feel of the mostly acoustic song; light percussion and soothing atmospherics keep her emotive vocals front and center. A native Texan herself, Lambert sounds fully at home on "In His Arms."

Lambert is the only Best Country Solo Performance nominee who is nominated in all four Country Field categories in 2023. To date, Miranda Lambert has won 3 GRAMMYs and received 27 nominations overall.

Maren Morris — "Circles Around This Town"

When Maren Morris found herself uninspired and dealing with writer's block, she went back to what inspired her to move to Nashville nearly a decade ago — and out came "Circles Around This Town," the lead single from her 2022 album Humble Quest.

Written in one of her first in-person songwriting sessions since the pandemic, Morris has called "Circles Around This Town" her "most autobiographical song" to date; she even recreated her own teenage bedroom for the song's video. As she looks back to her Texas beginnings and the life she left for Nashville, Morris' voice soars over anthemic, yet easygoing production.

Morris last won a GRAMMY for Best Country Solo Performance in 2017, when her song "My Church" earned the singer her first GRAMMY. To date, Maren Morris has won one GRAMMY and received 17 nominations overall.

Willie Nelson — "Live Forever"

Country music icon Willie Nelson is no stranger to the GRAMMYs, and this year he aims to add to his collection of 10 gramophones. He earned another three nominations for 2023 — bringing his career total to 56 — including a Best Country Solo Performance nod for "Live Forever."

Nelson's performance of "Live Forever," the lead track of the 2022 tribute album Live Forever: A Tribute to Billy Joe Shaver, is a faithful rendition of Shaver's signature song. Still, Nelson puts his own twist on the tune, recruiting Lucinda Williams for backing vocals and echoing the melody with the inimitable tone of his nylon-string Martin guitar.

Shaver, an outlaw country pioneer who passed in 2020 at 81 years old, never had any hits of his own during his lifetime. But plenty of his songs were still heard, thanks to stars like Elvis Presley, Kris Kristofferson and Waylon Jennings. Nelson was a longtime friend and frequent collaborator of Shaver's — and now has a GRAMMY nom to show for it.

2023 GRAMMY Nominations: See The Complete Nominees List

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Hear All Of The Best Country Solo Performance Nominees For The 2023 GRAMMY Awards

Kelsea Ballerini — "HEARTFIRST"

Zach Bryan — "Something In The Orange"

Miranda Lambert — "In His Arms"

Maren Morris — "Circles Around This Town"

Willie Nelson — "Live Forever"

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