If you had to describe your sound or your music to someone who’s never heard it before, how would you describe it?

I often describe it as the bridge between gospel music and “The Great White Way”, or Broadway. As a kid, I belted out show tunes, and Annie was my thing. So, my music is essentially a refined musical, and it can be so many different styles. It’s a marriage of all the genres I love—gospel, R&B, funk, jazz, and Broadway.

Do you remember the first song you ever wrote? Or is there a particular song or lyric that’s especially meaningful to you?

The first song I wrote that really meant something to me was titled Through the Distance. I haven’t released it, but it’s a reflection on life. I know that sounds cliché (laughs), but I was around 17 or 18, and the lyrics and melody just flowed so naturally. In high school, I wrote a slew of gospel songs that I still remember. But I’d say the song that changed me as a songwriter is titled Not So Fast. It is probably the song. I’ve found what I wanted to say and how I wanted to sound, bridging the different gaps between samba, R&B, and straight-up rock at the end. This was a song that kind of scared me because it’s about heavy topics like life and death. I wrote it during a transitional time: leaving home in Ohio to go to school in Boston. It felt like I was finding my voice as a songwriter.

Your Grammy-winning contributions to Chance the Rapper’s Colouring Book and Black Coffee’s Subconsciously are incredible achievements. Do you approach writing for others differently than writing for yourself?

I loved this question as soon as I read it! Yes, I absolutely approach songwriting differently when it’s for someone else. When I’m writing for another artist, I focus on their emotions and their story. For example, when I was working with Black Coffee on the song Time, which Cassie sings, I remember going through different interpretations of the song. At one point, she told me, ‘It’s just not there yet.’ Finally, I just sat with her (and by the way, she smelled rich!), and I started listening to what the other parts of the song were saying to her and how they were affecting her. Then I asked her, What are you really feeling? We had a short conversation—maybe a minute—and suddenly, it all clicked. I was able to write that line, and I’ll never forget seeing Cassie’s face light up as she said, ‘Yeah, that’s the one!’ Moments like that are so special because, in collaborative sessions, you don’t always know if your contribution will make the final cut. So, to have an artist get excited about your lyrics and ideas—and to hear them bring it to life—is an incredible feeling. Every time I think about that moment or hear that line again, it brings a smile to my face. It was just two sentences, but it changed my life!

When I write for myself, though, it’s very different. It’s deeply personal and often comes from reflections on life or moments of transition. And because it’s my own project, I have the freedom to keep tweaking things even after it’s released. However, when it’s for someone else, there’s so much more to consider: What’s the theme and message of the song? Am I writing for a soloist or a band? If there are multiple singers, how do I distribute the lyrics across different voices? 

Do you have any pre-show rituals? 

I’m a chronic warm-upper! My manager got me a mister last year, so that’s part of my routine now. I also use those blue vocal tubes for warming up. I don’t like warming up around other people—it’s not meant to sound good. I like to take 30 minutes to myself before a show to warm up and centre myself, and then I’ll re-engage with the band. I also make different playlists for different nights. I also love warming up by doing yoga in the morning and I also have a green juice every day. 

You mentioned in a previous interview that you hope your music brings catharsis to your audience. We want to know — what is catharsis to you? What brings you peace? What ground you and what heals you?

For me, catharsis is singing in freedom, not just singing to get free, but truly singing from a place of peace and intention. And that freedom is a part of the peace that is brought to me in the process. Family also grounds me. I come from a large, loving family. We are super religious and I am different — and I have watched the way grace is displayed in family dynamics and I’ve watched how people can change for the better. That definitely brings me peace. What heals me? Knowing that others are good. This is so generic and cliché and that’s okay but I love walking. I love walking and reading at the same time. I love simple things that are done simply. I like seeing life take off in it’s little dot-by-dot manner rather than pushing for something to happen. 

Finally, what advice would you give to emerging artists? Or to your younger self?

To my younger self, I’d say: don’t run from your influences. Embrace them. There was a time where I tried to literally run away from the gospel sound. I was told so many times—in Boston, in New York—that my sound was “too gospel” or “too church” or “too black,” but the gospel sound is everywhere. It’s part of pop, rock, R&B, the hooks, the chorus—everything. To emerging artists, I’d say: lean into what you know and collaborate with people who inspire you. Who you are and where you come from is validated and often replicated. Don’t let insecurity or comparison hold you back, especially when you’re being brought things you don’t know. Be true to yourself and it will open up all the other doors.