Raphael-Saadiq-by-Derrel-Todd-VIBE-Interview-1538175037
Derrel Todd

Raphael Saadiq Talks New Music, 'Insecure,' And Why Tony! Toni! Toné! Won't Reunite

Raphael Saadiq gets deep interview about his upcoming album, his family's struggles with addiction, and why fans won't get a Tony! Toni! Toné! reunion.

Raphael Saadiq is virtually immortal, and we’re not only talking about his youthful features either.

At 52, the producer/singer/songwriter graces stages and delivers God-tier musicianship to fans all over the world. His 2018 Pitchfork Music Festival set was a performance full of finesse, poise, and soul, as he treated fans to many of his solo songs from his last few albums. In addition to also performing new music, he brought out longtime friend and collaborator Ali Shaheed Muhammad to perform some J. Dilla remixes. Saadiq had the crowd at their heels with classic duet staples in his catalog like “You Should Be Here” and Lucy Pearl’s “Dance Tonight,” and even a few songs he wrote like Solange’s “Crane’s In The Sky,” Erykah Badu’s “Love Of My Life," and D’Angelo’s “How Does It Feel.”

Saadiq has been a staple in R&B music and black soundtracks since the late '80s as a lead vocalist/bassist for the groundbreaking '90s R&B band Tony! Toni! Tone!. After leaving the band in 1997, he launched what would become an accomplished solo career with four albums and 15 Grammy nominations, including a victory for writing on Erykah Badu and Common's “Love Of My Life.” He also appeared on other soundtracks like Boyz In The Hood, Luke Cage, and Mudbound, earning an Academy Award nomination for the latter with his collaboration as a songwriter with Mary J. Blige and Taura Stinson, “Mighty River.”

After just wrapping up his first headlining tour since 2012 in North America, Saadiq is putting the finishing touches on his forthcoming fifth solo album, Jimmy Lee, dedicated to his late brother who passed away from a drug addiction. The official release date has yet to be set in stone, despite him recently performing new, unreleased songs such as the album’s title track. And if he’s not busy enough, he’s still handling the vibrant, eclectic sounds for the third season of Issa Rae’s Insecure on HBO.

VIBE got a chance to catch up with Mr. Instant Vintage prior to his performance in Chicago to talk about his experiences performing for over 30 years, the revival of R&B, Tony!, Toni!, Tone!, classic hip-hop stories and the Bay Area’s influence, and much more.

VIBE: What’s the difference between performing as a solo artist and performing as a band member?
Raphael Saadiq: I love being in a band, bands are my first love. The solo thing was a little harder for me to do. It’s more responsibility, which I was willing to take on. The fun thing about being a solo act is that everything is yours and you don’t have to argue with your brothers and everybody like, ‘what’s yours and what’s mine,’ all that kind of stuff. You kind of make the last decision in [your own] band. Sometimes when you’re in a band, there’s too many decision makers and it’s okay to have two or three different decision makers and everybody can make great decisions. But if someone makes bad decisions, then it’s not cool. I’m a team player, as everybody can see. I must have really great decision makers.

So, what’s an example of how decision-making played a role in the quality of your performances as a band member?
After I left Tony! Toni! Tone in ’97 and the band arrangements they have now, they’re still the ones I made probably in the [early] '90s and they never changed them. That means they were good, so I knew my decisions were good. When I went to go do Lucy Pearl, I knew that was a great decision to grab Ali Shaheed and Dawn Robinson, and it showed me that I could put together a good team of people. And then it was my solo project, Instant Vintage, and then I jumped to a ‘60s thing—'60s suits and ties before anybody [of my era and afterwards] was wearing that. And then later, I saw R. Kelly wearing the glasses and my suit and everything. So, I think I’m a great decision maker. The visions that I have sometimes, they’re not all mine, some are things from the past I’ve seen from people like The Temptations and Motown. Making it work shows you I have vision. And I like it when other people do it. To me, it’s flattering because you want people to be able to try to do what you’re doing. I thought it was a great time in music during the '60s–the Harlem Renaissance and jazz, everybody dressed like that. I sort of miss that era, so sometimes you want to create something that everybody can get into.

What better genre than hip-hop to create hip-hop for everybody. You can still have your own style within yourself, but everybody can jump in like it’s one basketball, but everybody can play. I think that’s what vision is about, and a lot of people are scared to take those risks. I’ve always been a risk taker.

One thing that comes to mind for me when I think about the '60s is how many of our legends took creative risks in their music. What’s something from that era you wish was in today’s R&B?
Today’s R&B, we’re kind of getting back to making some cool [music]. I like Daniel Caesar, PJ Morton, SZA…people are really trying to do it. I think from here on out going forward, there’s going to be a massive wave of R&B artists coming out. We don’t know who they are, but I can just feel the vibration happening all over Europe and back this way. But before now, I felt like R&B shouldn’t have even used the title R&B, because it’s Rhythm & Blues, and it was no rhythm and blues in R&B. But there’s other styles of music that’s just as cool. We’re very creative people because urban artists… it’s hard for us to just stick to one thing [and] it’s hard for me to stick to one style of music. So I understand the creative forces that make the culture move so fast.

A lot of musicians struggle now because they want to walk around and look like their friends and you just can’t walk around and look like your friends if you want to stand out. You got to be a little bit different and it’s hard to do that because you want to do what everybody’s doing, what your next-door neighbor... That’s not really what R&B is. Hip-hop is that and you see artists like Tribe Called Quest was different when they came off their first album. Sometimes you gotta stand out a little bit and the Migos, they stand out a little bit in hip-hop, they’re a little different. Whatever type of music you’re doing, you gotta stand out a little bit.

How has the Bay Area influenced your writing?
The Bay has been everything to me and I kind of write about some of the same things sometimes. The Bay has influenced me because that’s all I know, it’s where I walk around. I go back there, and you hear people say different things about the Bay, but the Bay is a real special place. If the Bay loves you, then they love you. They love you and you can’t do nothing wrong by them, but you have to make sure you’re taking care of the Bay. When you write, you’re always thinking about them.

Historically, the Bay has always been one of the most influential regions in black music. Do you think they get the respect they deserve in music?
We don’t truly get it, but you look at E-40 who’s a pioneer of hip-hop on the West Coast, he’s one of the best out. And you go from there to MC Hammer, En Vogue, Too $hort. You wanna talk about Too $hort, he’s one of the longest lasting rap artists who tours more than anybody I know. He stays gone. My nephew Trey is $hort’s DJ.

Since you all were coming up around that same time during the late '80s, early '90s, what’s one of your favorite memories with Too $hort?
I played at Chris Webber’s Baba Bling party in Las Vegas one time and Too $hort and Nas were in the audience. I played this song “Brothers ‘Gon Work It Out” and I kinda wanted to make them feel like they were at the real Player’s Ball, and that’s exactly what Nas told me he felt when I played that record. But $hort was in the house so I brought $hort on stage to do a song and he was like, “What you wanna play?” and I said, “Freaky Tales.” Now we looked at all of these women, hundreds of women all dressed up and he said, “Are you out your fucking mind?” I was playing bass on it, I took the bass from by bass player. Then I started thinking about the lyrics and was like oh, that’s why he ain’t want to sing it, and we both started laughing. Then, we sang “The Ghetto." I was ready for “Freaky Tales,” I was all in. I wasn’t even gonna ask him, I was just gonna start with the bass line, but with the lyrics, he just didn’t want to do it. That was one of my favorite memories with him.

And around that same time when the two of you were coming up together, Tony! Toni! Tone! also collaborated with DJ Quik on “Let’s Get Down.” What is the story behind that song?
We were supposed to do three songs with Quik but the rest of the band didn’t feel like they wanted to give Quik that much money. I kept telling Quik that it was okay, but every time we got back with our lawyers they kept telling Quik that the band said no. Nobody was telling me they said no, they were going behind my back and telling the lawyer no. So I finally called the band and asked, what’s up? We only ended up doing one song, which the price wasn’t bad for three songs. We would have had two follow ups to “Let’s Get Down” if we would have done that. After the studio, it was just me and Quik. None of the rest of the members were there so it was just me, Quik, and my cousin Elijah who sings the fanfare “I gotta get my groove on,” and a bunch of [people from] Compton. A lot of stuff was happening that day, but it was good energy, good vibes. I love Quik, and actually the whole band, we really love Quik, we’re all huge fans of him. It made sense at the time, but I wish we had more records with Quik, we’d have a double follow up.

Would you and the active and former band members of Tony! Toni! Tone! ever play a reunion tour sometime in the future?
We honestly talked about it, but I think my brother Amar [Khalil], who’s been in the group longer than me now, he left the group. After I left the group, [Antron] Haile left the group and now it’s just two new guys that nobody doesn’t know. I think that ship has sailed. I love my brother to death, his kids are like my kids, our family is tight. I think that ship has sailed a little, but I think I am going to do something with most of the guys who were in that band.

Those guys I went to school with, [and] my brother was sort of the add-on, but the members I went to school with are the nucleus of the group. We don’t want to do all of that “two different groups” and all of that, but me and the guys we grew up playing together, we’re going to call it something else and we’re going to play new music and do some really cool pop-ups in different cities. Play some stuff, have the fans ask some questions, and do some really cool things where people will get to know us and talk about the friendship and respect we all have for one another. We haven’t had a chance to get together as friends, before we got with my brother Dwyane [Wiggins]—those are all my friends. My brother [Dwyane] had a band that was older than us, so he was a part of that band. My brother joined our band. So, when we came up with the name—my brother owns the name Tony! Toni! Tone!. We don’t own it, so we can’t do anything with that. So, we’re gonna start our own little thing and he’s more than welcome to come and sing some songs with us, too. We all own studios, we all do music, and we all just want to be around each other.

I really wish we could give that [reunion] to people but I really think that ship has sailed. We’re just going to use the internet and talk to people to give people a good experience, so we could have a good experience.

"I really wish we could give that Tony! Toni! Toné! reunion to people, but I think that ship has sailed."

How much of your life is in your music?
All my life is in my music. I used to use a lot of experiences from different people but this time I’m really talking about me on my new record. All my life experiences and sometimes I thought I was talking about other people but then when I really listen to it, I’m really talking about myself. This record is more about an addiction. It’s still early, but I just feel like with the internet you gotta talk about it as much as you can.

I lost my brother to a heroin overdose and I lost another brother to drugs, too. I lost a sister to crack and had two sisters who were strung out, but they’re okay now. As I got older, I really started paying attention to sweets and drinking and other different addictions that people have, and I started laughing at myself. Sometimes when I get up in the morning I want a chocolate chip cookie and some coffee. I don’t think it’s a chemical, it’s just something that your brain tells you that you want. And I started really thinking about my brother who was stuck on this chemical and how we would tell him, you should stop, don’t be gated, don’t be stealing mom’s TV. He couldn’t control himself but now that he’s been gone for over 12 years, I thought about his addiction and I dedicated my album to him called Jimmy Lee.

With drugs having such a big impact on your family, how did you avoid addiction yourself, especially being in the music industry?
I never wanted my mother to get that phone call. Growing up, I would always hear these indirect questions like, if you see somebody shooting at rapid fire, you see one person go down, the next person go down, you see the next person go down, and the next person go down, here you come, what are you going to do next? And then at that time, I didn’t know what “rapid” meant so I looked at my dad and said, I’m gonna walk the other way. He said, “that’s what I’m talking about.” So it was the indirect things people would say to me that would tell me not to be like this person. I would be in the streets playing football and he would say, “Which one of these guys you look up to?” I would point to a guy and he would said, “Alright, keep playing.” My dad watched the whole game and later on he was telling me, "the guy you look up to, he’s not gon be nothing, he’s not gon be nothing, trust me.” And I got a chance to watch this dude nine years later and he becomes his own worst nightmare. So, I was a great listener. My choice of drug was music and being around musicians. I just jumped into music trying to do the right thing and I think that’s how I just looked at it. Sometimes I would experiment with little things like marijuana, but that’s as far as it ever went. I’m scared of anything that looks like powder or needles or pills. Terrified!

Black women have played a huge role in your legendary career in more ways than one. What are some of the most important things you’ve learned about them while working with them?
Don’t mess with them, basically. Solange, Issa Rae—I learned more from watching Insecure more than anything because you hear the beeline conversations that you don’t hear when you talk to a girl one-on-one. When you’re working on a show like that, it gets really uncut. Everybody hears it when it goes on the show but it’s the first show you actually get it just as raw on TV.

I have seven sisters, so I’ve heard it all before I met any of these women. I’ve seen dudes wreck their cars into buildings over my sisters. I’ve seen some of the craziest stuff when I was 9 and 10, straight up fights in the streets, swinging. My sister’s boyfriend killed my brother when I was 7 or 8. Shot him twice in the chest and one went into his heart, over $12,000. That’s my sister’s boyfriend so at an early age I didn’t see black or white, I just started wondering where the hell am I at, what’s going on?

As far as black women in music, I’m a huge Minnie Riperton fan and that’s probably my favorite all time artist, Ms. Minnie Riperton and Diana Ross. Ross, because she’s from the projects and I can hear it in her music, but it’s mixed with the most beautiful orchestral strings and some of the best, prolific songwriting that crossed oceans. They don’t have to fight for publicity, their music speaks for themselves. Same as Minnie Riperton, she left with a short career and she left a lot on the table.

Lastly, what’s the key to longevity and eternal youth?
It’s just all about the genes and the dedication you put towards it. If you really love it and you want to be part of it for a long time you just look towards those other areas that won’t burn you out. You just can’t burn yourself on an industry that will just chew you up and never spit you out because there’s always going to be someone after you that’s better. If you want to be around—my thing is to be a helper and a person that also can work with a lot of different sounds and can help a lot of different people. I think it’s about bouncing around different rooms and different areas and being useful to everybody’s area and that’s the key to longevity.

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J.Lo’s ‘World of Dance’ Proves To Be A World of Opportunity

For two years, Jennifer Lopez, Ne-Yo, and Derek Hough have introduced some of the world’s best dancers to viewers across America. Their NBC weekly competition series, World Of Dance, fills living room television sets with high-flying stunts and out-of-this-world routines. The show’s multicultural acts each bring a distinct flavor to their every step, tracing back to their native homelands.

Now in its third season, the dance tournament is divided into various categories befit for each act’s demographic. The brackets are divided into levels: Upper, Junior, Upper Team, and Junior Team and they’re all in the race for a hefty $1 million. Yet with all that talent in one room, you can bet the competition is stiff. It’s also nerve-wracking trying to impress superstars like Lopez, Ne-Yo, and Hough for a qualifying score.

There’s The Kings, a group from India that flies across the stage in lightning bolt speed. Their precision is just as massive as their dash, everything is carefully coordinated into perfection. Then there’s The Heima from Seoul, South Korea that offers an incredible fusion of Asian culture paired with beautiful choreography.

Surprisingly, if J.Lo would’ve had the chance to compete in a show like her own at the beginning of her career in the early ‘90s, she admits she would’ve passed on it.

“If I was on In Living Color, I probably wouldn’t try out for World Of Dance,” she says seated on a leather couch at a private party room at Los Angeles’ NeueHouse Hollywood. “I probably would more be watching World of Dance and cheering on my friends. The level of tricks and technical skills is not something that I had when I was coming up. Even though I know my flips and tricks just a little bit, I’m in awe of what they are able to do.”

It’s also exciting to learn from the contestants, some of which she says end up working with her after the show is over.

“I’m from The Bronx. I’m a hip-hop girl at heart so I’m always looking at what the young kids are doing, and trying to do that too,” she notes.  “Let’s get some young kids here so they could teach us the new steps.”

While the new generation of dancers are exciting, it also isn’t taken lightly by the judges—especially for Ne-Yo. The award-winning R&B artist is known for his tough criticism, and he isn’t generous when it comes to scoring. His methodology is earnest yet simple: show and prove.

“If I’m going to give you a million dollars you’re going to earn it,” the 39-year-old says flatly. “Whether you’re an eight-year-old or a 38-year-old, your skill level is what makes me go, ‘I’m going to talk to you like a person who wants a million dollars from me.’ It is what it is.”

Hough adds that the judges often disagree when it comes to scoring.

“We’ve had full-blown arguments after a performance where we’re behind the desk and I just straight-out disagree with some of their things, and with their opinions,” he told Entertainment Weekly. “But that’s what makes us judges. We’re going to have different opinions, and we’re going to have conflicting ideas. I think ’cause we’re so passionate about it, we’re so invested, and we love dance. We’re all fans of dance, and we want to make this the best we can possibly make it.”

Amid Ne-Yo’s tough rubric, there’s no denying that working alongside Lopez has a positive effect on his work ethic.

“J.Lo is over here killing the game,” he says. “It makes you go up because she’s the ultimate. She comes in sharp, alert, charismatic, every single time,” despite having a million other things to do the second the show is done taping.

World Of Dance is something Lopez also enjoys with her family. She watches it with her children and says her son Max wants a chance to compete to win the million dollars. “They love the show and they love the electricity of the show. It’s powerful, it’s young, it’s fun,” J.lo says.

What gives the show its power is the exposure that it grants contestants whether or not they win the grand prize. “Getting on that stage in itself is a victory,” Ne-Yo says. “You’re in people’s houses every week. If you can’t parlay that into something whether you win a million dollars or not, you’re not hustling right.”

World Of Dance airs on Sundays at 8 p.m. EST on NBC.

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Courtesy of Rialto Pictures

The Ying and Yang of ‘Yardie’ Star Aml Ameen

There’s a scar above Aml Ameen’s right eyebrow that he got when he was three years old. Thirty years later, the British actor can laugh at running face first so ferociously he split his head open. The victim he was charging at, his cousin, walked away without a scratch.

Cracking himself open is what Ameen did in order to embody the role of D, the lead in Idris Elba’s directorial debut Yardie. Adapted into a screenplay from the 1992 Victor Headley novel of the same name, viewers see Ameen take on a character who’s more morally ambidextrous than he is ethically ambiguous. The film spans two decades and locations—Jamaica and London—as D grapples with his brother’s murder and enacting revenge while diving deeper into a treacherous drug world.

To become a true yardie, Ameen who’s British-Jamaican and Vincentian, went full method acting. After living in Bob Marley’s homeland for three months, when Ameen returned to London, friends, family or whoever met him anew.

“People met me as D, they met me as the part. The mindset, I was only speaking patois. All the cast and crew met me as D. And so, by the time I came back I had gotten out of my own way to a large degree in terms of any trepidation I might have,” he says. “When you immerse yourself fully into a world and you give over to a part often you start by feeling like you’re faking it. But after a while, your body doesn’t know you’re telling it something. It just starts to believe it. So let’s just say you’re telling yourself every morning ‘I’m ugly! I’m ugly! I’m ugly!’ Your body will start feeling that. It can be a bit traumatic, but you don’t have to do as much work. So that foundation of playing D gave me a lot of confidence.”

Ameen isn’t unattractive. In fact, he’s handsome. Standing a hair above 5’6” his tall personality supersedes his actual height. His toasted almond skin is clear. His lips full. He smiles often but there’s a resting smirk that gives way to slight mischief or an undetected superpower. It could be his ability to transform to a spliff smoking badmon, or maybe it’s the courage he mustered the night before this interview to perform at New York’s famed Nuyorican Poetry Cafe. Either way, something’s there.

D and Ameen however, couldn’t be any more different. Ameen is measured, deliberate with his words and tidy. His Ray-Ban sunglasses accent his blue striped button-down and his tan wool coat. D is unpredictable, shaggy; his locs an orchestra of controlled chaos. D also isn’t opposed to shooting first and to channel his character’s demeanor, Ameen channeled his Uncle Kirk.

“My Uncle Kirk is one of them stoic, handsome, men from his time in the 80s. There are loads of pictures I have of him and he’s just one of them men who didn’t really smile but when he smiled it was like is he smiling because he’s happy with what you’re saying or not?” he says. “I’ve got a lot of British in me and we tend to be polite by default. You see Jamaicans, they’ll look you in your eye and talk to you like this [with a straight face] for all of the interview and it’s fine with them. There’s an intensity.”

As a first-generation Jamaican, I can attest to the seriousness that runs through the island. Despite the sun, the rum and the savory oxtail gravy, Jamaicans don’t joke around, or as we say: we nuh romp.

Serendipity was at play when Ameen and Elba first met in an elevator both heading to the same Los Angeles-bound flight. They discussed the book and Elba’s script. Ameen’s verbiage of choice is “sanitized” when describing the difference in the brutality of D on screen compared to the novel. Over time, the young rebel develops a coke habit and to bait Clancy, his brother’s killer, D rapes the mother of his children. In the movie, however, after breaking into their home and points a gun at Clancy’s girlfriend, D grants privacy when she pretends to breastfeed her child.

And while D doesn’t explicitly say it, he has a death wish. If you watch the film properly as Ameen suggests, you can see moments in which D is chasing after his own demise. Ameen’s only desire is to live his life fully, a reality he better understands isn’t a luxury afforded to many.

“I’ve experienced people who died who were my age, and not died from like the usual gangs or that sort, but like a heart attack, 33 years old, dead. Another friend pushed off a balcony by his girlfriend. Uncle died three days ago, my dad’s brother,” Ameen says. “When my two bredins died, it was a certain feeling, but with my uncle dying I had more of an understanding of D’s journey, which I had to imagine now, than 18 months two years ago during filming. It’s very hard to fill the void of a family member dying. You never know when your card is going to get pulled, so you want enough time to do stuff, but at the same time once real people die in your life that you love you fear it less.”

D also never worked with The Sexiest Man Alive. Ameen describes Elba’s directorial hand as less controlling and more freeing. Elba would later invite Ameen to his home while filming The Mountain Between Us where the two shaped the character. Once the two-time Golden Globe winner yelled “action!” Ameen said he was granted the autonomy to do what he wanted.

“[Elba] wanted me to method act and we discussed the general mindset of D, the look that he wanted to achieve. He wanted a uniform accent, things like that. And then he just set those parameters and left me to go in and do it,” he says. “He knows the type of actor I am. He wasn’t like, ‘All right, this is how I want you to do it.’ I’ve worked with first-time directors before. I never worked with an actor-director and he gave a lot of space. There were only so many moments when he was like, ‘This is what I want’ and he allowed me to create this world where I lived.”

While going full method was the approach that made for the best performance, it wasn’t always easy for some on set. Ameen rarely broke character and admittedly held others “hostage to his process.” He was so intrinsically D, it took him roughly eight months to let go of him once the film wrapped.

“Not like talking patois all the time, but the state of being. Every morning as D I’m waking up to gunshots as my alarm clock. Every morning I’m sitting in bed for an hour or two imagining the murder of my brother. If you’re a person with a conscious, that’ll run on your mind. It took me a while, definitely.”

I forget my follow up question and the room gets quiet. We’ve been talking for close to 40 minutes. Ameen uses this chance to turn the tables and question me. We discuss zodiac signs and Miles Davis. There’s a younger version of the late jazz legend Ameen believes is equally complex and intriguing. He admits he’d love to portray him. Instead, he’ll have to settle for Netflix’s forthcoming Inside Man 2, a departure from the Spike Lee-directed crime-drama which starred Clive Owen and Denzel Washington.

“Those are some big shoes to fill,” I tell him.

“I ain’t tryna fill em. That’s the goat,” Ameen says of Washington as he chuckles. “I could be the ram if they want. I can be the little lamb.”

He opens his Spotify app and plays “Blue In Green.”

“What’s your star sign?” he questions.

Every man I’ve ever loved (whether reciprocal or not) is a Leo, so when I learned of his July 30th birthday, I was...annoyed.

VIBE: We don’t get along.

Ameen: Who don’t?

VIBE: We don’t.

Ameen: Why do you say that?

VIBE: I looked it up. We don’t get along.

Ameen: Is that the attitude you came to the interview with? That’s terrible. What’s your sign?

VIBE: I’m a Gemini. I find Leo men are, it’s almost astonishing, how confident they are, and like unjustifiably so sometimes.

Ameen: And that’s what I remind you of?

He takes a sip of water and leans back. He crosses his legs and continues to listen to Miles while scrolling through social media on his phone. A smile emerges on his face. Like his Uncle Kirk, I’m not sure if he’s smiling because he finds our banter fun and playful, or if his unknown superpower is bubbling at the surface.

“Interesting,” Ameen says.

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American musician Millie Jackson performs onstage at the Park West Auditorium, Chicago, Illinois, May 30, 1980.
Photo by Paul Natkin

Music Sermon: Millie Jackson - The Original Bad Girl

You know that auntie who you were nervous to bring your young male friends around back in the day because she might proposition them in the kitchen when nobody was looking? Or the auntie liable to cuss out a family member or two after dinner for something that happened 12 years ago? The one that women in your family whispered about, warning not to leave men around alone? Who your mama didn’t want you to spend too much time with, but you were always excited to see because she was entertaining and was gonna slip you a little pocket change?

That auntie listens to Millie Jackson.

Millie Jackson is not just an R&B singer. She’s a Rhythm & Blues singer. She’s card party music. Your parents having people over and you’re not allowed to come downstairs music. Working class black folks hanging out down at the VFW after a long week with some well liquor music.

She’s been called “the queen of raunchy soul” and “the Godmother of rap,” because of her signature, no-holds-barred lyrical content and her long “raps” – profanity-laced, sexually explicit stories and jokes – interwoven through her songs and live sets. Auntie Millie is part singer and part outrageous comedienne – but don’t take her as a joke. She’s a deceptively serious artist, with career highlights that went largely unnoticed because of the raunch.

In our continued celebration of bad-ass women in music for the month of March, we present 11 essential Auntie Millie facts.

1. Her Singing Career Was an Accident

One Thursday night, Millie Jackson was hanging with friends at the Psalms Café on 125th Street in Harlem. The restaurant hosted an open mic on Thursdays, and Millie was clowning a young woman for her terrible singing. Her friends bet her $5 to get up herself and sing, and she did it – even though she had no training as a singer. A club promoter in the audience offered her a gig the following week, someone saw her there and offered her more gigs, and that continued. She sung around New York and New Jersey for a couple of years while still working full time, and eventually landed a spot touring with Sam Cooke’s brother, LC. After one short-lived recording contract, she signed with funk and soul label Spring Records (co-founded by the father and uncle of Loud Records founder Steve Rifkind). She was so unsure her career would stick, she asked for a leave of absence from her job instead of quitting. It became an extremely extended leave.

Her trademark “rapping,” the long intros, interludes and dialogue breaks Millie masterfully blends into her songs and live sets, was also an accident. Millie had no formal vocal training, so she wasn’t a strong singer at the beginning of her career. When people in supper clubs and lounges would start talking to each other and turning their attention away from the performance, she started talking to them to keep them engaged. It became a key part of her artistry. Millie doesn’t just sing you a song, she tells you a story.

2. She Developed Her Raw and Raunchy Style Because of Gladys Knight

Millie and Gladys sound alike. It’s hard to hear in Jackson’s grittier songs; in those, she sounds more like Teddy Pendergrass’s voice and Tina Turner’s voice had a vocal baby. In her ballads, though, you can close your eyes and imagine Gladys. Or at least Gladys after some brown liquor. Comparisons started almost immediately in Millie’s career. It was potentially a problem– the label held back a single because they thought people would hear it and ask for a new Gladys album – so she began to separate herself from Knight with her raw sound and lyrical content.

Over time, that separation also included cursing. “Gladys started rappin’ on (“Help Me Make It Through the Night”) and I’m like ‘Ok, now she’s gonna rap? I guess I’ll just cuss,’” Millie once explained. “She’s too much of a lady to curse.”

Jackson leaned all the way into the explicit language and topics - the Washington Post called her “a veteran virtuoso of vulgarity” in 1986 - until those two factors nearly overshadowed not only her raw talent, but the fact that her songs were also technically fantastic, complete with incredible arrangements and expert live instrumentation provided by the Muscle Shoals Swampers, one of the best rhythm sections in music history.

3. She Flipped the Concept of the Concept Album

Caught Up is the concept album "Trapped in the Closet" wanted to be when it grew up.

While Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye were creating cohesive bodies of work that reflected community, racial and environmental turmoil, Millie focused on what was happening in the home. Spring Records paired the singer with producer Brad Shapiro, whose credits include Wilson Pickett and James Brown, and he took her to the famed Muscle Shoals to record with the studio’s legendary session musicians, the Swampers.

Millie knew she wanted to make an album where “one song keeps going into the next song,” like a long story. Caught Up is a narrative about an affair, but from two perspectives: the first half of the album is from the mistresses point of view, the second half is the wife’s.

“We knew we were onto something (after “If Loving You Is Wrong”),” Jackson explained in an interview. “Then somebody in the studio asked ‘what now?’ And I said, ‘we finish the story. We’ve heard from the girlfriend, but what about the wife?'”

Concept albums were still new, and Spring Records didn’t know what to do with a project featuring nine-minute songs and no clear radio tracks. They brought in one of the most influential black radio DJs in New York, WBLS’s Frankie Crocker, and played it for him. He left the label with the only pressed copy of the LP so he could play “If Loving You Is Wrong I Don’t Want to be Right” immediately.

Jackson has admitted to being the other woman multiple times in her own life, but wanted the representation on the album to be “fair,” and include the wife’s experience. Her interpretation of the betrayed wife wasn’t a broken-down woman crying into a pillow, either. The songs cycled through a full range of emotions, from shock and anger to sadness, defeat, defiance and pettiness.

The label’s skepticism was unfounded; Caught Up reached No. 4 on the Billboard R&B album chart and No. 21 on the Pop chart. The success prompted a follow-up album, Still Caught Up, but the original is considered Jackson’s definitive work.

4. She Helped Turn Cheating Into an R&B Genre

Torrid affairs and adultery weren’t new topics in music, but they were relatively new to R&B. In the early ‘70s, songs about cheating – not about the aftermath, but basically celebrating cheating - were mostly found in juke joint blues and country western music, and were rarely from the woman’s perspective. “These were conversations that women had with each other on the laundromat. You didn’t hear them on records,” Millie explained in a recent interview about Caught Up. “You especially didn’t hear them on the radio.” Billy Paul, Luke Ingram, Johnny Taylor, and Millie – all singers who straddled the line between blues and soul - helped change that. By the mid-70s, adultery R&B was a full-blown subgenre, with songs like “Woman to Woman” and “From His Woman to You” (because “Woman to Woman” apparently required a reply), then later came “As We Lay,” “Secret Lovers,” and a long list of others. Songs about the wife calling the side, the side responding to the wife (the temerity!), the husband talking to the side, the wife proclaiming love to her side. It was a mess. But the songs were hits, so you might need to ask your parents and grandparents some honest questions about exactly what the hell was going on in the ‘70s and early ‘80s.

Millie’s unfiltered and uncensored take on cheating was the centerpiece of her career. “(Infidelity is) my whole repertoire,” she explained once when asked about crafting the stories for her songs. “Do you decide whether or not you want to talk about a certain part of an infidelity? Is it a man? Is it a woman? Is it both of them? Or do you want to go and start talking about what infidelity calls to life, or how it ruins a relationship, and not pertaining to anybody in particular. But, see, just like that you can write 25 songs on infidelity.”

5. Millie Was a Women’s Advocate

The primary topic of Millie’s music, after infidelity, was sex. Not making love. Sex. As in, “you got to handle this.” Like infidelity, sexual demands from the woman’s point of view was topical fare for dirty blues, not R&B.

Don’t start something you can’t finish Frustration ain’t no fun Half way lovin’ just don’t get it Stay there ‘til the job is done.

I would be remiss to not point out the breakdown in “All the Way Lover,” wherein Auntie Millie plants seeds that bore fruit for future generations, advocating for enthusiastic participation in oral sex, or what she called “parteè.”

We thank you for your service and advocacy, Millie.

With the songs hitting close to home about husbands cheating, wives kicking those husbands out, side chicks getting fed up, and calling men out to get focused in the bedroom, Millie believed she turned the male demographic off. “Men did not want my records in their house,” she claimed in an interview. “They wouldn’t come to see me live. Because I spoke truth to women, I got a reputation for being rough on men.”

But Miss Jackson would get at women sometimes, too. She took time, often, in her live show to address “saditty b**ches” who were being too lazy or too uptight to take care of business at home. This was also a form of advocacy, though, in the form of “Sis, stop bullsh*ttin.’”

Millie was a new kind of voice for women’s independence and agency. “Women loved it. I was speaking to them,” Jackson explained to her hometown Atlanta Magazine. But she was talking to women in a way some didn’t consider proper or respectable. She didn’t care. “I didn’t sell record to bougies. It was the poor people who bought my music. The women who bought Diana Ross did not buy Millie Jackson. The people in the projects understood me. I was down and dirty. I told you like it was.”

She once compared men to bad credit, which I’m laughing about even as I type this because it’s so genius and perfect that I can’t even. It’s an analogy all women understand too well – and we also understand the plot twist on the end when she gives it up anyway (Kanye shrug). She kept it real.

6. Low Key, She’s a Hip-Hop OG

Millie had already established a reputation for her “rapping,” which in the ‘70s meant long dialogue during song breaks, a style made popular in soul music with Isaac Hayes. Millie expanded the technique, telling full narratives that connected her songs. After “Rapper’s Delight” became a hit, her label wanted her to give the new style of rap a shot. In 1980, she recorded a track called “I Had to Say It” that she meant as a spoof of “Rapper’s Delight,” but she was spitting bars on the low. The subject: black men who start dating white women once they’re successful. It would set the timeline on fire today.

She told Song Facts in a frank 2010 interview that the song’s inspiration came unexpectedly. “I was thinking of what the next album (was) gonna be, and I had run out of things to talk about,” she shared, “So we’re on the tour bus and I’m going through Jet Magazine, and I’m saying ‘Okay. There’s Arthur Ashe – with a white woman. There’s the guy that plays Shaft on TV with a white woman. Damn, there’s O.J. Simpson – with a white woman… Somebody needs to say this. Why don’t I say this? I have to say this.” And she said it with her signature IDGAF delivery and candor.

Now I got your attention again I wanna speak to you about white girls On the arms of our black men

Millie was just playing around, but Coca Cola explained to her, when they reached out for Sprite's 1999 Obey Your Thirst campaign, that she technically held the distinction of being the first woman to cut a rap song. The campaign, “5 Deadly Women,” featured rappers Eve, Amil, Angie Martinez (remember when Angie was a rapper?), Mia X and Roxanne Shante.

Jackson makes a surprise appearance at the end of the series as The Master, and I applaud Sprite for doing their homework and including her. She was kind of an easter egg, because not many people in the spot’s target audience knew who she was on sight.

Her hipping and hopping on “I Had To Say It” aside, Millie’s been credited as the foremother of Salt-n-Pepa, Lil’ Kim, Foxy Brown, and all female rappers who didn’t take no sh*t from the boys and unabashedly harnessed the power of sexuality in their music. She’s also been heavily sampled in hip-hop for decades: J. Cole, Prodigy, EPMD, Too Short, Poor Righteous Teachers, 50 Cent, Memphis Bleek, Lil’ B, Boogie Down Productions, Young Jeezy, Trick Daddy, Blacksheep, Cam’ron, Geto Boys, Yo Gotti, and Fat Joe have all cut Millie a publishing check.

At least three rap acts have sampled/covered her “Phuck You Symphony” alone, which I understand because it’s perfect for hip-hop – just like she is.

7. Her Live Show is Off the Chain

Millie doesn’t just give you a stage with a spotlight and some crooning (and I say “doesn’t” because Auntie still performs). No ma’am, no sir. There’s a full band, including a tight ass horn section, background singers, the whole nine. Also, she doesn’t just sing, it’s part comedy act. She’s a cross between Richard Pryor and popular ‘90s comedian Adele Givens (I truly believe Adele studied Millie).

Millie Jackson’s Live and Outrageous album is essential listening. The show’s energy is palpable even through audio. At her peak, Jackson’s concerts were regularly sold-out. She served costumes, flair, choreography, dramatics, and powerful vocals. Even as her stage show scaled down in later years, Millie Jackson live was no less of an experience. She’s also known for audience participation - if you’re sitting in her line of sight you might become part of the show. Be ready.

8. She’s a Boss

Millie Jackson is absolutely not a contrived artist. Her image is all hers, her musical choices are hers, her career path is hers. There are no Svengali stories, no tales of the label pushing her in a direction she didn’t feel comfortable with. None of that. Millie did what she wanted. Her label did try, in the beginning, to change her sound. They sped her vocals up on records so her voice would be in a higher pitch than her deep, earthy alto. But after “Hurts So Good,” they let her fly.

Millie has been self-managed her entire career. Her one marriage, at the beginning of her success, lasted only eight months because her husband tried to control Jackson and her business. “He thought we were gonna be the next Ike and Tina Turner. He thought that he was gonna tell me what to do with my life, and I decided that was not gonna happen. Case closed.”

Millie has also always maintained a large degree of creative control. She co-wrote most her songs from the beginning, and starting with Caught Up, she also co-produced her albums. And she fought when her record label tried to minimize her contribution. “I went down to Muscle Shoals to show (Brad Shapiro) how I do what I do, and co-produced the album. And when the album came out, it said ‘Album concept by Millie Jackson,’ and I hit the ceiling,” she shared in an interview. “I stood up in the middle of the floor and cussed like a banshee. And finally (Spring Records co-head) Roy Rifkind said, ‘Can we please go to lunch? You gonna be the death of me yet.’ And (Spring Records co-head) Bill Spitowski said, ‘We’ll put it on your tombstone: Produced by Millie Jackson.’”

Self-management is a choice Millie realizes probably held her back from big deals and moves that would elevate her to a higher level of stardom, but it as one that allowed her to follow her career on her own terms. In the same interview just mentioned, she explained her unconventional decision. “I write a lot of songs, and I publish them, and I go to work when I feel like it. That’s why I never had a manager; I don’t need anyone to tell me when to go to work. I know if I want to work or not.” She’s also enjoyed a normalcy that her peers who reached higher heights of fame had to sacrifice. “I like being able to go shopping for myself. I go to the supermarket and nobody bothers me. I don’t have a bodyguard. I like that. I think I live a very decent life. I’m a long way from starving, and I’m still me.”

9. She Can Sing Anything

Jackson has half-joked often in her later interviews that people don’t pay attention to the more diverse aspects of her catalog.

“If you listen to Millie Jackson on the radio, you ain’t gonna hear nothing but ‘Back in Love By Monday,’ ‘Hurts So Good,’ and ‘If Loving You is Wrong.’ Like I haven’t made any more songs,” she once complained. “I’ve got thirtysomething albums, only got three songs to be played!” Well, a lot of her songs aren’t exactly radio-friendly, but she’s right. With the expansive discography she has (Millie kept recording until 2001), the cheating songs and the raunchy songs are most popular and well-known. Ironically, while critics bemoaned her resistance to growth over the years, she quietly released two country-inspired albums and a rock-inspired album, in addition to more weighted material. “I write a lot of meaningful songs, but nobody ever heard them,” she’s said. “Because in my case most people would rather only listen to infidelity.”

Her very first single, in fact, leaned more towards the social commentary that ‘important’ soul artists were embracing at the time.

Millie has always said she didn’t want to be a crossover artist, but she didn’t want to stay in an R&B lane sonically, either. Millie always wanted to explore rock and country. “Rock and roll is my spirit, really, but nobody cares,” she shared in a conversation about her lesser-known music. “Tina Turner came through and (everyone) forgot about that.” We’ll get to Millie and Tina in a minute.

Because of her willingness to explore a wide range of music, Jackson’s cover song game rivals that of Luther Vandross. Starting with Luther Ingram’s “If Loving You is Wrong, I Don’t Wanna Be Right,” Millie has put her stamp on hits from Prince, Toto, The Stylistics, even country artist Merle Haggerd. Jackson released her version of his hit “If We’re Not Back in Love on Monday” less than a year after its release, changing the title to “If You’re Not Back in Love by Monday,” and switching up the song from a story about a husband wanting to work it out with his wife, to a mistress encouraging a husband and his wife to try and reconcile.

10. She Intentionally Didn’t Seek Crossover Success

One of the reasons Millie is damn near an obscure artist given her long career and tremendous output is her is because she stayed in a blues and R&B pocket – on purpose. “I was never looking to become that crossover pop star,” she once explained. “Let white folks cross over to me.”

Critics searched for explanations over the years why such a talented singer with Muscle Shoals production wasn’t reaching the pop stardom soul singers like Gladys, Aretha and Tina had achieved, and they usually blamed her language and lyrical content. In 1977, the New York Times opined “…with just a bit more attention to hooks, she could have consistent hits. That wouldn’t constitute selling out, if she’s worried about that, and it would help convey the underlying seriousness of her art to a broader public.”

But Millie was happy to fly under the radar. It gave her more freedom. “When you had all the problems with profanity in the music, nobody mentioned me. The senator’s wife never knew I existed. So I didn’t have to go to Congress.” Jackson was talking about the 1985 congressional hearings spurred by the Parental Music Resource Center, an organization founded by Tipper Gore after she purchased Purple Rain for her daughter, and “Darling Nikki” made her clutch her pearls. Most remember the hearings for the eventual result of Parental Advisory warnings on albums just as rap was emerging, but pop artists were the initial target. Prince, Madonna, Frank Zappa, even the Mary Jane Girls were in the roundup. But not Jackson. “Nobody mentioned my name. Nobody knew I was doing it. I didn’t have to deal with any of that.”

She did enjoy some pop success with Caught Up, but her biggest potential moment for a breakthrough was a 1985 duet with Elton John. Pop/soul duets were in fashion, but though the single was a moderate success in the UK, it never broke in the US.

11. She Has (Possibly One-Sided) Beef with Tina Turner

The two contemporaries Jackson has most been compared to vocally are Gladys and Tina – for example, Elton John approached Jackson for “Act of War” after Tina declined. Millie adores Gladys and counts the fellow Georgian among her favorite vocalists, but there’s something about Tina that just doesn't sit right with her. It’s unclear what the source of her dislike is, but I suspect it’s centered around Tina entering and dominating the rock/soul space as a solo artist just as Millie was plotting a move in that direction.

Jackson did finally record her rock-inspired album, titled Rock n’ Soul, in 1994. She told her audience at a Howard Theater show in 2012 she made the LP because “I wanted Tina Turner to know she wasn't the only black bitch to sing rock’n’roll.”

But then, according to Millie, Tina jacked her single. “I recorded (John Waithe’s) ‘Missing You,’ and I was all excited about it, it was gonna be my next single. And the guys at Muscle Shoals said, ‘Boy you got the song out quick! I heard it at a truck stop.” And I’m trying to figure out how in the world did they hear my song when it won’t be out for two week. And of course, it was Tina Turner, and we had to pull the single and come back with a different one.”

That was in the ‘90s, but Millie was throwing subs at Tina in the ‘80s. Jackson’s 1988 album The Tide is Turning included a song called “You Knocked the Love (Right Outta My Heart).” Listeners will easily hear the Ike and Tina influence in the song, but the track, a song about a passionate love turning into domestic violence, was a shot. “I did that one messin’ with Tina,” Jackson admitted in 2010. “It was about Ike and Tina, and the proceeds for that are supposed to go to battered women. But I didn’t call any names.”

After Millie stopped recording in 2001, she didn’t retire. She spent 13 years hosting a drive time radio show, continued to tour (when she felt like it), and wrote and produced a stage play based on her album Young Man, Older Woman which toured successfully for four years.

Now she’s posted up at home in Atlanta, and a few years ago she was working on a reality show concept for her family (please, contents gods, let this happen while she still has the capacity to do it).

But Millie should be out here at these awards shows and tributes with her contemporaries. She should still be mixing it up with younger artists who emulate her energy without even realizing it (she loves Rihanna, by the way). Auntie Millie is deserving of far more recognition and praise than she’s received. Not just for her outrageous and explicit music and performances, but as a complete artist: as a writer, a producer, a businesswoman, a creative, a pioneer. Alladat. Just because she didn’t go the route of No. 1 hits and stadium tours doesn’t make her any less accomplished. Respect Millie Jackson’s gangster.

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#MusicSermon is a weekly series by Naima Cochrane that highlights the under-acknowledged and under-appreciated urban artists and sub-genres from the '90s and earlier. The series seeks to tell unknown and/or forgotten stories that connect the dots between current music, culture and the foundations of the past.

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