Saida Dahir has never gone back to Somalia, her native country, which sits on the east side of Africa. But she knows exactly why it is endearingly called the "Nation of Poets."

"A lot of people in Somalia write poetry about the war and about trauma and everything," she enthusiastically says over the phone about the country's centuries-long tradition with the spoken-word format. "Poetry is this thing that has been in my family since as long as time." 

18-year-old Dahir originally emigrated from Somalia with her family when she was three and claimed refugee status in Salt Lake City, but her country's tradition lives on in her work: Dahir penned her first-ever poem at just seven years old.

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As she grew older, Dahir found herself at a crossroads with her culture as a black Muslim. "I was out of the norm for every single person," Dahir says. Microaggressions and adversity due to her religion and race caused her to feel different."I went through so much self-hate and so much doubt and wanted to assimilate to the surroundings."

But things changed in the seventh grade when she decided to start wearing a hijab, a traditional head covering worn by Muslim women. "I could either hate the otherness that I had or embrace it," she says of her decision. "I wanted to make sure that the representation that I had, that the future generations of the girls that do put the hijab on aren't scared, aren't worried, aren't sad, aren't getting bullied, because they know they have people to look up to."

Dahir also began to reclaim the way she saw herself through pen and paper. Through spoken-word poetry, she examined her experiences growing up Muslim, female and black in a perdominantly white community in the U.S. "The stranger looks at me funny, like an alien, like some exotic creature that needed to be rescued from its dying habitat, but she didnt know was, I like the same bands as her," she says in her poem "The Thing On My Head."

One spoken-word performance even went viral, when, in 2018, Dahir spoke at the 2018 March Of Our Lives event in Salt Lake City. “How much longer do we have to deal with this sh*t?” she asked the crowd. “Blood pools as we watch innocent bodies get hit/ politicians claim it’s not guns but they need to just quit."

Those experiences make up her powerfully emotive spoken-word debut, The Walking Stereotype, out Saturday, Aug. 17. The album is a way to bring her message of self love to young women who look just like her. "When I started writing poetry, I realized that there is so much darkness that comes with all these identities, but there is also so much light and so much hope," she says. 

Dahir also utilizes her YouTube channel to connect with other young people like her, filming vlogs with tips and anecdotes around everything from fashion to college applications. 

The Recording Academy spoke to Dahir about her spoken-word debut, what her black-Muslim identity means to her, BTS and other music she listens to, and more.

Tell me about yourself. 

My name is Saida Dahir. I was born in a refugee camp in Kenya after the civil war in Somalia broke out. People were very disastrous to my family. We lost everything we knew and everything we had so we fled to Kenya. I was born in one of the little plastic tents in a refugee camp. By the time I was three we were finally granted a green card to seek refuge in the United States. So I moved to white town in Salt Lake City, Utah where I was out of the norm for every single person. That's really what made me who I am and made me do things that I do.

What was your first experience with poetry?

Poetry is this thing that has been in my family since ... as long as time. Somalia's known as the land of poets. A lot of people in Somalia write poetry about the war and about trauma and everything. I started writing poetry when I was seven years old after reading countless poems from my mom and my brothers and getting inspiration. The first poem I wrote was a very trivial ... I think it was just a sappy poem, but that really sparked me to continue and to write about things that I'm very passionate about. That's what brought me to where I am.

Did your family write poetry similar to yours?

Yes. I feel like all of my siblings' poetry has been about social activism and movements and things that they want to see change in the world. I think we use our poetry as a way to inspire people and to inspire ourselves to really want to create change and to keep the feel of power in ourselves.

Sounds like your family has really empowered you. 

They have. They've inspired me. They've motivated me. They've really pushed me to excel in every single thing that I've done.

Why name your album, The Walking Stereotype?

The background behind the album title is very funny. You probably can't know from the phone but I'm Muslim, I'm black, I'm a woman, I'm a refugee. I have so many different stereotypes and so many different marginalized groups that I'm a part of. One time I was mentioning this to one of my friends and he jokingly said, "Bro, you're like the walking stereotype." That has really resonated with me because I really am the embodiment of so much hatred and so much destruction put on the groups that I'm a part of. I ran with that phrase and I made a blog called "The Walking Stereotype." That was my Instagram name for awhile. I knew that if I would ever do anything like this that that would be the name that I would make it [with]. There's so much that I talk about in this album, and it's not just one group that I talk about. I talk about every single group, all of my stereotypes that I walk in every single day.

What you said just now, that you embody so many stereotypes, sounds heavy but you sound so light when you talk about it, like you don't let it get to you.

Mm-hmm. It was heavy for awhile. It was so hard for me to claim it and to really find myself. I went through so much self-hate and so much doubt and wanted to assimilate to the surroundings. When I started writing poetry, I realized that there is so much darkness that comes with all these identities, but there is also so much light and so much hope. And there's so much power that comes behind them and culture and history. So when I talk about who I am, I have to be so happy because I would not want to be anybody but who I am. That's why that phrase ["walking stereotype"] it doesn't bring me sadness. It brings me so much courage because ... a lot of people are a walking stereotype. We can all be walking stereos together and we can use that as our shield against the world. 

You've been through all these experiences. What made you decide to want to make an album?

Like I said, I've been writing poetry for so long and I would just read them to people and that was that. I would record them but I would never post them anywhere or would never have a YouTube dedicated to it. There is so much power that comes from writing things down and sharing things and having them in a manifested form, so I knew that my poetry was something I didn't want to keep to myself.

I didn't want it to be something people read because my poetry doesn't sit on the paper. You can't just read it because when I say it, there's certain phrases that I emphasize or there's certain parts that I slow down. It's like music basically but it's not music. It's words, but the melody and the rhythm of the words that I say, it's what makes the poem. It's what gives it that mood. That's why I decided that the best place would be not a book, it wouldn't be a post. It would be me, my voice, my genuine reactions, and an album was the greatest way to do that.

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To reclaim something for oneself can be a huge process. It takes a lot of reflection and you have to deal with a lot of pain in order to first face it and then decide, "I'm going to change this narrative." Do you remember the moment, or maybe it was a series of moments, where you decided, "I want to do this for myself. I want to reclaim my story. I want to love myself"?

I think the first moment that I had that realization of changing my narrative is when I started wearing the hijab. The hijab is the cloth, the scarf that a Muslim woman wears. I started wearing that when I was in seventh grade. Up until that point I was very assimilated to the American culture. I was a very American child but as soon as I put the scarf on, I was different. I was other. I could either hate the otherness that I had or embrace it.

It took so many years and me learning and me moving and countless microaggressions and countless adversity that was thrown my way, but at the end of the day I wanted to make sure that the representation that I had, that the future generations of the girls that do put the hijab on aren't scared, aren't worried, aren't sad, aren't getting bullied, because they know they have people to look up to. Then things just started escalating on the news ... a couple of years ago with the Muslim ban and with the hatred towards a bunch of the stereotypes that I had. I knew that poetry was the way that I was going to use my voice and change the narrative. So I started writing poems about politics and about laws and about things that I needed to see change. I think that me expressing myself is what helped myself learn who I was.

Having listened to your album, I really felt like it was this love letter to yourself, but the more I hear you talk, I feel like this is almost a love letter to the Muslim black woman.

It really is. It's a love letter to every single person that looks like me because they need the love too. They don't get that love in the media. They don't get that love in the press. They don't get that love in the history books that are written. So we got to love ourselves.

Anything else did you want to achieve with the album?

I think what I want to achieve with the album is to show people that look like me that there's so much talent behind your words and so much power that your words hold. I don't know how to sing. I don't know how to rap. I don't know how to do all of these things that people use to express themselves. I don't even know how to draw. I know how to write and I know how to express myself in English and in so many other languages. I think that there is power behind people's words and every single person has that talent if they write things down, if they speak up, if they express themselves. That is where the true power comes from, your words and how you use them. 

You mentioned that you've been writing since you were seven. Has this album been the accumulation of all your writing throughout that time? 

The first poem that I wrote in that album is called "The Thing on My Head," which is a poem about how I started wearing the hijab. I wrote that poem when I was in seventh grade so this is an accumulation from poetry from when I was 14. How old are you when you're in seventh grade? I think 13, 14. So a good portion of my life is on that. A good portion of the life that I remember and the life that I lived and the experiences I have since I started writing.

It's basically your sonic debut. 

Yes, this is. I've never done anything like this before so when I heard the GRAMMYs wanted me to interview me I was like, "What?"

Did you reach out to someone to record the album or did someone reach out to you? 

The record company that I did this album with, they found one of my poems on YouTube that I did at the March for Our Lives. That poem went viral and so they asked me if I wanted to record that poem for another album and I said, "Sure." So I recorded that poem for an album about gun violence. Then a couple of months later they were like, "Why don't you just do a whole album by yourself because you have such powerful poetry?" I was like, "Okay, sure." And that's what I did.

One of your poems is about Parkland. What inspired you to write about the tragedy?

I wrote that poem the day of the Parkland shooting. I found out about it and I got home and I was so distraught ... It was a normal thing. It's a normal thing for us and I was a junior in high school, I had tests to worry about, I had my grades to worry about, but I was immobile because the only thing that was there was just the fear. The fear of going to school and of not coming back. So I did what I do when I'm in situations where I'm so heavily burdened by society, I wrote a poem that day. I've never written a poem in one day before. That was the first poem that I sat down and I wrote the entire thing and I still have not changed it at all because it was the true expression and the true feelings I was feeling that day. The anger and the fear and all of that just boiled down to, "What I can do to make sure that that never happens again?" Then I read at the March for Our Lives and the reaction that I got in the crowd was so many people that said they could relate. There's nothing better than when you can ... people can relate to your emotions.

How does it feel for a total stranger to connect with you?

It's what inspires me to do everything that I do. When I read a poem and after someone walks up to me and says, "No one has ever expressed that before in the way you did and I agreed with everything that you said. It's been something that's in the back of my head," it really just makes everything that I do worth it. If I'm putting people's feelings into words and I'm sharing them and they hear it and they just are like, "I get that," that just is the best feeling in the world.

You sound like a very confident person. Were you ever scared to share your stories with the world?

Yes, I was terrified. Like I said, seventh grade was the pivotal year in my life. The reason why I did the things that I did is one of my teachers, he knew that I wrote poetry and that I never read any of it. He told me that he was going to force me to read a poem at our talent show or he would fail me-

Oh no.

I was like, "Oh no." I was so terrified and I signed up to read a poem at the talent show. I didn't want to do it but I didn't want to fail the class. I knew he was joking, he was not going to fail me, but I decided that this would be an incentive. I went up there and I read a poem and I got a standing ovation. I was just a shy girl and to get that standing ovation was just like, "This is crazy, people like what I did. People like what I wrote."

Then I, of course I was terrified every single time I'd get up onto the stage. I've also walked off a stage and been yelled at and called "terrorist," but I don't think about that. I think about how when I'm on stage, what change I could make and how I can keep the ball rolling.

Is there anything telling your story has taught you?

I think something that telling my story has taught me is that there is so much power behind just being who you are. It's so easy to just think that you can be who you are but it's so hard when the world is so [full of] hate and the world is so exactly how it's supposed to be [with the] status quo. To just say, "No, I'm not going to do that," and just express yourself in every single way that you are and just to love yourself, I think that's incredibly powerful.

The term "refugee" has been all over the news these last few years. People are defining it in different ways. What does it mean to you?

I think it's hope. I think that word means hope. Being a refugee means leaving everything you know, everything you love, your culture, your religion, your background, your language, your food, your home, your family, in the hopes for something better. That's what my family did and that's what the people at the border are doing right now. That's what the people in Syria are doing right now. They know that they're leaving everything they have and their whole universe because they know that something's better and something is waiting for them. When they do arrive to those situations, they're either loved and welcomed or they're pushed out. 

My family was not loved and welcomed but we were not pushed out. We were indifferent, but now people are being pushed out. There's never been love. Once we can figure out how we can solve this problem and greet people, because no one is going to ... No one understands that no one's going to leave everything that they have if they're not pushed out, if they're not killed, if they have no other options. I think once we realize that, we can figure out how we can solve this refugee problem in the world. No one just wakes up one day and is like, "I'm going to cross the river. I'm going to walk barefoot. I'm going to not eat for a couple of weeks for fun." It doesn't work that way.

Is there any poem in your album that means the most to you in any kind of way? If so, why?

I think the poem that has the most meaning towards me is, "Oh, Somalia." I've never been to Somalia after the war. When we fled to Kenya I came immediately here. I wrote that poem because I really have never gotten the opportunity to love my homeland. One day I will, I will go back and I will visit. I have that poem for now and whenever I feel homesick of a home that I've never been to, I read that poem and I think about it. One day I'll be in Somalia, hopefully, and I'll be able to read that poem while I'm there. That's my goal.

Has not knowing your homeland affected you?

I think it's affected me because growing up I was too white for the Somalia kids and then I was too black for the white kids. I never really knew myself. I didn't speak Somalia fluently when I was growing up and a lot of the Somalia kids I knew would make fun of me. Then I would get made fun of by the white kids that I was with. It was very disheartening because I never had that safe haven and that safe space. When you're too black for the white kids and you're too white for the black kids, where do you go? You have to make spaces for yourself.

That's why I try to learn so much about my culture. I study more about my culture than people that live there probably do because I don't have it accessible to me. It's not at the touch of my fingertips so I have to try tenfold just to get that experience of my ... calling my place home.

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There's this thing Billie Eilish said in an interview. She said something along the lines of, "People underestimate the power of a young mind." Do you agree?

I 100% agree. I'm at this this conference right now with so many young people. They're geniuses. They are so revolutionary and so innovated. They have so many goals and things they want to change about the world. So much optimism. If we were just heard out, if we were just listened to, if we weren't just called, "Oh, they're just kids. Oh, they don't know what they're talking about," we could bring so much to the table. If we don't have a voice, we're just going to talk. We're just going to be disruptive.

Jeremy Jemmott, who worked with Gil Scott-Heron, worked with you on this album. How does it feel to have someone of that caliber work with you on this project?

I love the Black Panther Party and I love "The Revolution Will Not be Televised." When they told me that he was going to be on the album, I literally was in shock. He's an amazing, an amazing, musician. Just knowing that the power and the history behind his art and his talent with my words, it just proves that it's inter-generational. We've been fighting for causes, we've been fighting for the things that I've ... I'm talking about in these poems, for years and years and years. And it shows because when he was drumming back then we were going through the same sh*t. 

What other music are you into?

I really love soul music. I'm a big K-pop fan. A lot of people don't know that.

Who's your favorite band?

I love BTS. I love good rap music. It's funny because rap music is literally poetry. When I tell people that, they're really confused and I'm like, "No, you're favorite rapper is in fact a poet. They're just putting the beat behind it." Some of the songs on my album have a beat behind it and so I'm basically a rapper.

You're attending UC Berkeley in the fall, which is really famous for its student activism. What are you most looking forward to there?

I'm really looking forward to be able to be in a college setting. I'm a first generation college student so I know that that is a very heavy burden, but I'm really excited to continue this for the generations after me. Having one person in your family be a college graduate just keeps the ball rolling and rolling and rolling. I'm really just excited to learn more and to grow and to find out what my purpose in life is through the academia aspect and just learn.

What kind of career you want to pursue? Do you want to continue being a poet?

For all my life I wanted to be a journalist, and then I wanted to be a lawyer for a couple of months and so that's what I applied to all my colleges through. Now I think I'm going to go back to journalism.

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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."

Looking for more GRAMMYs news? The 2024 GRAMMY nominations are here!

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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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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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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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