"Q Magazine"

Feb 2002

Upon forming J Records, Clive Davis hoped to establish another diva franchise to follow his success developing a young Whitney Houston into America's greatest love of all. With Alicia Keys, he may, instead, have found his modern-day Roberta Flack--an urban singer-songwriter with a feel for soul-clapping hits, Shaft-style string arrangements, and gut-tugging ballads from the past.

Just turned twenty, this child of New York City is wise beyond her years. At the Bottom Line last April she stunned a jaded industry audience with her stormy gift for song and keys by knocking out covers of Chopin, Donny Hathaway, Stevie Wonder, Roberta Flack, and Prince. Belting out the "Brooklyn Zoo" informed lead single "Girlfriend" and her solitary gut-wrencher "Fallin'" while playing over 88 ivory and ebony notes, Keys displayed a creative potential that soul music hasn't seen, arguably, since D'Angelo. The claims of Mary J Blige, Lauryn Hill, Erykah Badu, and Jill Scott are cast aside because Keys combines unbridled sensuality and youth with the ability to, not only sing and write very personal songs, but to lead a band with the mastery of a piano virtuoso.

Here at the Soundtrack Studios where Keys is singing about inspirations and "Troubles" (her own personal troubles as well as her song of the same name), her voice matches her hands' dexterity with rich, thick tones. It is enough to make a shy journalist weak, searching for the courage to continue an interview while lost in a crush. Lounging at her side before a white baby grand piano, Keys's auburn hair falls in long, thin cornrows with Stevie-Wonder beads knocking like rosaries. More than remarkably talented, this young woman is comfortable enough to be vulnerable yet still extremely sassy and playful. She is grounded spiritually with a healthy streak of urban cynicism.

Growing up biracial in NY's Hell's Kitchen with only her mother to really learn from might sound challenging. But for Keys, New York was a cultural ocean teeming with the colorful spectrum of a cosmopolitan city. Her greatest obstacle was staying out of troubled waters when friends of all backgrounds were running wild.

Her musical passions are equally vast thanks to her education at the Performing Arts High School on Manhattan's Westside, classical piano training from the age of seven, and growing up rooted in hip-hop culture. Evidence of this is her shared love for Jay Z's Reasonable Doubt and Miles Davis's meditations on Gershwin's Porgy & Bess.

During the golden age of hip-hop, MCs and DJs laid foundations for songs over loops of drum breaks from old soul and funk records. In the same way, Alicia bridges her youth by cleverly laying blueprints for her original compositions over hip-hop classics.

But while nodding to Wu-Tang and Rakim she still has opera and freedom songs on her mind. Her powerful ballads recall classic songs of personal struggle and hope, sung as if they were pleading with you right there--like Marvin Gaye, the Police, Percy Sledge, and Aretha Franklin.

At this time, she is exploring the A minor chord that she is apparently infatuated with. Her blue notes grab inside you, catching you swaying slightly; eyes closed while killing you softly with her song.

Tormented by the recent trials of his diva, it looks as if Clive Davis may have found his young queen.

P4M: Who motivated you to take an interest in music?
A: My grandmother is definitely a big influence. My mother--a strong woman--always held me down and taught me to just go for what you want. I was trained classically so my teacher Margaret Pines, a wonderful pianist, definitely was a mentor. I studied early jazz like Oscar Peterson, Fatts Waller, and Scott Joplin.

P4M: Tell us about your experiences "discovering" classic soul.
A: My mother had a lot of Miles and Thelonious but she had some soul. I really discovered it with a friend of mine. We would go through and make tapes of mom's records and love it. Also Big and Mary J were sampling so much soul stuff.

P4M: How old were you when you wrote your first song?
A: My first song was called "Butterflies" and I wrote it at fourteen.

P4M: Were you always a solo artist?
A: No, I also was in a group when I was nine, one when I was eleven, and one a few years ago. It was my manager, Jeff Robinson, who said, "You have it in you to stand on your own."

P4M: You felt selfish?
A: I felt selfish in the beginning because doing the group thing, you grow really attached. Plus when you're younger it's all about your homegirls. But you have to be honest with yourself when it isn't working.

P4M: The piano is kind of solitary in many ways. How does that reflect you?
A: The piano is kind of a lonely instrument. When I go home from being out, I love to come home and just play. Songs I've already written or just sit down and write what I saw, felt, or thought about that day without melody, words, or structure--just feeling. I love to snatch my moments of being alone. Feeling whatever with no noises.

P4M: It takes strength to be vulnerable and write songs about your own life. Are you prepared to go deeper?
A: I do want to continue writing songs that are that personal because, not only does it get it off my chest or my head, it feels right to talk about exactly what you or others are feeling--diggin' in deep like that. You go through life and you walk down the street and see a guy and a woman just arguing. You wonder what they are fighting for. It's therapy. It makes you be honest with yourself, I'll tell you that much. Artists like Marvin, Stevie, Nina Simone, Biggie [who were] willing to figure out what is going on inside have moved me so much.

P4M: What has been your most difficult experience you've overcome through music?
A: I remember beginning to get into my musical world, on the search to becoming comfortable with what I like to hear and sing and play. I was working with a lot of people and it wasn't going well, I was frustrated and at the time people expected to hear some music. There was pressure because the people I was working with, as cool as they were, would divert things romantically saying, "Let's go get something to eat, let's go to the movies." I'm like, "No!" Sitting in the car late one night feeling like, [whispers] "Shit." I went to my mother's to be alone and play, and "Trouble" came out of that. A conversation I was having with myself, or with God saying I was feeling confused and I didn't know if it would ever stop: [singing]

"If you're troubled
You just got to let it go
And if you're worried baby
Let it go
'Cause all your hustles ain't for nuthin'
Take it slow
When you need me baby
Are you gonna let me know?"

[still playing] And all the verses were talking about, "Why is it going wrong? Why when I am trying so hard it's not coming out right? I feel like I am doomed to make mistakes." So this is one of the songs I play whenever I am feeling down. It reminds me that if you let it go and you don't stress it so hard, you'll pick it up and figure out something.

P4M: Growing up biracial must have been difficult.
A: Well my mother's white and my father's black. It was definitely exciting. A challenge only in terms of coming into myself. It was more difficult trying to stay out of trouble in New York with friends. I always felt both [cultures] and comfortable around different types of people. It taught me a broader idea of love and life--that you don't have to be one style or what the "possible" thing is to be if you are this color; the proper way to act if you are "this" nationality.

P4M: Do you feel hip-hop is still a voice of rebellion?
A: The fun and rebellion of hip-hop is always going to be ever-present. One of my favorite albums of all-time is Jay Z's first record Reasonable Doubt because you can feel from him that emotion you have when you are like, "Damn, I'm trying to do my thing right now but people want to hold me down. Damn, can I do my thing! Can I live?"

P4M: Are you more conflicted in your love for hip-hop today considering how materialistic it is currently and what it offers youth?
A: I do feel like there is something lacking--a heart, a soul. I think of children coming up under me--especially my nieces and nephews--and I don't want them just to hear that "bang, bang, bang." I want them to know, "You are beautiful. You are a beautiful person as a young woman without shedding any clothes. You are an attractive, handsome man without having to disrespect women or have the biggest gun. You don't have to sell drugs to be cool or fly, not at all. That's a misconception. In fact, you are much, much hotter to me if you are about your business, trying to get things going for yourself. Even if you are dead broke, it's that drive that is attractive to me.

P4M: What keeps you positive and hopeful?
A: I feel that it's important for me to have something else to hold onto. For me I need to turn to other things. To remember the beauty of life, that there's love in the world. You have to hold onto that. You have to remember that, too, in order to have some type of hope. Otherwise what's the point? Life, it's just a beautiful thing. Life is worth living.

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