Kelela
Something that I think extends to a lot of African cultures is that the line between performer and audience is blurry. My mom would lead the wedding song regularly, and she isn't a professional singer. Even as an audience member, you're expected to clap and sing the response to the lead.Collection: Wedding
I just want to shed light, illuminate and turn the spotlight over to all of the black people who have been being futuristic and innovative since instruments were plugged into a wall. With computers, machines, and music, black people have been contributing to that a great deal for a long time.Collection: Computers
As a black woman, there's so much pride and communication through hair. It's naturally something that you are excited to embellish on and be creative about.Collection: Communication
I think I'm taking risks and putting myself out there.
I'm coming from the zone of Faith Evans, but with weird production.
Fog and one blue light is all I need in life at the club. Just a dark room and loud music. I'm into that.
I am not carefree. I'm just not. I experience an immense amount of joy, a crazy amount of joy through sadness and so much struggle. There's something problematic about 'carefree black girl.'
It's such a challenging time, and in my small way, I will make it so that other younger women, and maybe older women, will be able to do the things they want to do, and accept themselves and their experience.
My music sounds like one synergised thing, one message.
As it pertains to my black womanhood, there's just a lot of ground to cover. There's a lot of stuff to say.
I don't want you to feel defeated, like, 'Oh boy, why do you do this to me?' We have too many of those songs.
I've always had this commitment to not being in one thing.
To me, the best writing points to something literal or common but is also nuanced: The moment when somebody is telling you they love you while simultaneously disappointing you. Everybody's experienced that.
I don't write lyrics. I hear the track and sing in gibberish over it, then I try and fit words into the phrasing and melody that I already have set. Everything is left to chance.
I've grown up feeling very American but being constantly bothered by people - there's internalized racism and feeling weird about being second-generation.
Popular music was this abstraction - an abstraction that I was relating to immensely but was ultimately far away.
I'm just trying to soundtrack your real life. I'm just trying to give you a place to feel safe in all the parts of your experience.
Anyone who understands anti-racist work, a white person specifically, understands that it is not black people's responsibility, or any person of color's responsibility, to dismantle the structures that keep white people in positions of power. We do our job to thrive, to survive. To protect ourselves, to sit together and feel better and to heal.
I'm just tryna be honest about all the things that I dig in my music. It's not just this over here, it's also that over there.
It's been hard for me to nail visual language and personal style because I like so many different things.
'Seat at the Table' has expressed real adversity, struggle, and also triumph and joy.
I like to try out different methods to get to good songs.
When I called 'Cut 4 Me' a mixtape, I was thinking about a few elements: One is used instrumentals. The project is more centered around introducing you to an artist; it's not meant to be seminal. It's 'Hi,' 'Hello,' a thing that you first hear.
I would say Tracy Chapman was the first time I obsessed over an entire record. I knew every song; I knew the exact amount of seconds between each song. That's the level of obsession that I had.
I really do like Solange, sincerely. I'm down for her, and I trust her judgment.
When I was little, my parents would have these gatherings, and it was a common thing for me and my cousins to have to put on, like, shows.
I spent a lot of time in college. I was just being academic and discovering myself through reason and analysis.
When I was growing up... I'm not going to say I listened to everything, but when it comes to vocals, I was really adamant about imitating all kinds of voices.
I would love to do an album of standards!
There's definitely a push and a pull to 'legitimize' electronic music live by playing the same way that a band would play.
I am your homegirl, at the end of the day, but I also feel very... outside. So if you're finding solace in feeling outside with me, then we're good to go.
Most of my friends, growing up, were upper-middle-class white kids, so it was a different reality at home both culturally and linguistically. It created a lot of insecurities for me, but it also did a lot of amazing things that I didn't know were happening at the time.
I was in school studying International Studies and Sociology. I was really into what was going on in school. I was affected by the ideas and engaged as a student, but not disciplined or motivated enough to do the work. That was a fear of mine for a while, that nothing was motivating.
I like smart rappers who aren't necessarily trying to be deeper than you, like Danny Brown.
Growing up, Missy Elliot and Janet Jackson were definitely major references.
After it became clear that I was not going to graduate, I had this moment where I was like, 'I need to not sulk. I need to pursue - at least try - to pursue music. But if I don't try, I'm going to be a really bitter middle-aged lady working in a cubicle.'
A black woman's handbook in this industry is, 'Whoa.' The chapter on 'Don't go there.' The chapter on 'How to say that nicely,' how to express that you don't like something so that you don't lose the opportunity - which is what we're doing all day long.
I'm pushing back against the white, misogynistic, heterosexual establishment in the music industry. Like, literally, in all its forms.
There is this feeling among black artists that you have to be really careful. We're not inclined to talk about this stuff because, if we do, we put ourselves in a position where we're not marketable or where we can't win.
A lot of white men in the music industry are promoting and participating in black culture in a way that is pretty careless. They want the currency of blackness, but they don't want the brunt that comes along with that.
I just want to live in a world where I can tell a guy, 'This is the deal: I really want this. I really want you. But it's also not that deep.'
I think the Internet is more layered and complex than just hating it or liking it. I find it to be more purposeful to talk about the way that it's conducive for relationships and making connections.
Sometimes I learn by someone giving me warnings and giving me advice about what to do next. And other times, a lot of times, I have to put my hand into the fire.
I think my worst enemy was myself. It's like I've been in my own way more than anybody else has been.
The goal is to blow the audience's mind.
I've talked about that with friends, about what genre makes sense to choose for each record and the strategy around that... Sometimes it's more about the moment of time, and other times it's more about the sound of the song. Sometimes it's about what's going on in larger life, in politics.
We are - as artists, we are racialized through genre and called black - without being called black - through genre.
When I started making songs, some of them read as mixtape-y, and some of them read as album-y.
I guess the bottom line is I don't make music that is consumed en masse.
The assumption is simply that I hit on all the things I've hit on so far by accident, that my talent is just this raw thing that pours out of me, and then white people feel like they have to come in and contain it, refine it, and bring it to the place where it can been released.