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Navy Blue is an interesting person.
He was childhood friends with Earl Sweatshirt and introduced him to Tyler, The Creator, with Earl then returning the favor years later by introducing Navy to the late Brooklyn rapper Ka, which led to not only a working relationship, but a genuine friendship. He came up as a skateboarder and model, often seen in Supreme lookbooks, before he decided to share his music with the world.
I remember noticing the name Navy Blue floating around the underground during the late 2010s, but it wasn’t until he dropped his debut album Àdá Irin in 2020 that I realized Navy Blue and Sage were the same person. Maybe that was by design, as he said in multiple interviews that rapping under the moniker was a safe space for him to be able to express his intimate feelings.
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In 2023, he made is major label debut under Def Jam with the Budgie-produced Ways of Knowing. However, he was subsequently dropped from the label, which in turn inspired him to release Memoirs in Armour a year later. “Due to the shift in circumstances, this project became a refuge to me, I hope you enjoy it,” he shared on social media. “I’m happy to be putting this album out independently, the way I had always intended to be releasing music.”
He continued to record music, and eventually realized that he was making a follow up to Memoirs — which had themes of knighthood and armor — while The Sword & The Soaring was touching on things like the sword Archangel Michael is often depicted with, and how our angels in heaven protect us here on earth.
Billboard talked over Zoom with Navy Blue as he was in Europe on tour with British MC Loyle Carner — about the themes of this latest project, why being vulnerable is important (especially for men) and his close friendship with the late, great Ka.
What’s the underlying theme of this album?
Well, even in, you know, posing the question about my brother… I mean, death definitely kind of created this like doorway for me to walk through, in terms of connecting with my own spirituality. And growing up, I always viewed my brother as like a guardian angel. And a lot like Archangel Michael who, as the story goes, defeated Satan and expelled the other fallen angels to protect the heavens against evil. So, this album kind of was birthed out of that idea, because I always saw angel Michael depicted with a sword, and all of my music praises the people that have passed on and honors them.
Why did you go with “Orchards” for the lead single?
It was the first one that I did that really made me feel like I was making an album. It kind of solidified the message. I’ve always been a fan of Child Actor, and his beats are just different. They make me think differently. They’re a lot like movies. I always see imagery when I hear his music and his unorthodox approach to beatmaking. The way that like that some of his beats have this…they like pump almost. I don’t want to talk about his, like, beatmaking “drip,” but I can hear the things that he does where his music feels really alive. So, it’s really cool to nestle myself into that world. With “Orchards” specifically, when I heard that beat, I was like, “Wow.”
And another beautiful thing that Child Actor does, is he’ll send me a beat and he’ll make me feel really special and say, “You’re the only one that I know will get this,” and it feels good to be thought of in that way, and the manner in which we communicate with each other, and constantly being like, “Yo, bro, thank you.” We say thank you to each other very often. And since he’s kind of become a part of my life, and my music making, I felt this new kind of portal open up that I didn’t know was was there, which is really nice.
Why did you decide to follow up Memoirs in Armour with this particular project?
It’s not as strategic and as thought out other than it’s just what came through me at the time. I’m always working on music, so I generally try to approach making music through the lens of just being a conduit and whatever the spirit has for me, that’s what I need to say. So, it’s not like, “Ah, I’m going to do this one.” It’s just where my focus, went because I had another project that’s been done for a while.
Instead of being stagnant and waiting around, I started working mainly with Child Actor sending me a bunch of joints, and the theme just presented itself especially coming off of releasing Memoirs in Armour last year with this theme of like knighthood and armor. And then it just felt like I was discussing the battle on this project. So, I felt like the sword was the earthly tool used for battle and the soaring meaning the heavenly council, and like our angels and protectors and how they intervene. It just felt like the culmination of my struggles of becoming and the support of what I call my angels.
Your stuff is always so personal. Is it like a release for you? Because you’ve said that you make music really for yourself, and if people can connect with it, they connect with it.
It’s definitely a release. You release it from the confines of your head and you get to witness other people have their own experience with it — and that’s really gratifying, and makes me feel like I’m giving something to the world, especially during a time like this right now, where there’s just so much going on in the world, a lot of sadness, a lot of traumatic events, we’re extremely desensitized. It makes me feel like I’m putting good energy into the world.
And just feels like it gives me purpose, and I just want to make other people feel seen and heard and not alone through their experiences. If I could offer any help through sharing what I go through and how I get through my hardships, then I feel pretty content with who I am and what I’m doing. Because I know there’s a lot of music that’s very fleeting, and I know there’s probably people who don’t identify with my music, and that’s okay because I make music for those who it speaks to. You know, like Ka said, “If it don’t move you, then move on.”
But I love knowing that there are people that are invested in my journey and simultaneously invested in theirs, and we kind of get to have this kinda like dance where we grow together. It’s always been my goal to speak to an experience for somebody who doesn’t have the words. I’ve only been on earth for 28 years, so I don’t have that much experience, but I feel like none of the experiences that I’ve had in getting through depression and addiction and things like that, I feel like none of it was in vain, because it gave me reference and it allows me the insight to speak on an experience that maybe somebody else is going through.
I know at first you were kind of apprehensive with sharing your music, and I feel like rap is a form of therapy for you, at least that’s how most of your stuff comes across to me. Do you feel nervous about having your feelings out there?
As human beings we’re deeply concerned about how we’re perceived, and we want to control as much of it as we can. I feel very proud to share that with the world. I think it’s a shame that the world that we live in that you get, “Wow, that’s so powerful,” for telling your truth. It’s just a testament to where we’re at where me just talking about my feelings is like, “Wow, it’s so vulnerable.” I’m just trying to shine a little light on a path that doesn’t get enough love, which is self love and self discovery and honest expression.
We’re fed so many lies and people are talking about things that don’t hold much weight. All we really have is this lifetime, and I just don’t want to squander my opportunity. I want to talk about real things. I think there’s enough music out there that doesn’t really talk about things that are of any importance. I try to not get in my own head about that — but yes, as a man also, yeah, it definitely can feel that people might think I’m soft or whatever. But, you know, I see strength in that.
It’s very powerful for men to talk about feelings and lived experience. There’s a stigma behind that, so it feels quite important for me — because it’s who I am, it’s how I’ve always been, I always kind of lead with my heart first. I’ve been living this way since I was a kid, man, feeling like, “Man, it’s hard out here.” I wear my heart on my sleeve. I cry, I go through stuff, and I tell people how I feel, and that’s not normalized. It can be a little isolating at times, but as I release more music, it’s attracting more people that think like me and want to better themselves. And that feels really good.
Did you keep a journal growing up or write poetry? Your style kind of feels like poetry.
Yeah, I grew up writing a lot. It just it always felt like the place that I could make sense of my thoughts. And yeah, I think for a long time I used to kind of push against that like, you know, “Oh, it’s poetry.” But, yeah, that’s exactly what it is. Rap music is poetry, whether it comes across poetic, quote unquote, or not. I don’t journal as much anymore, but I definitely approach writing as a form of journaling. I try to welcome in God, and just see what comes out.
When I’m going through a tough time, it’s generally like the first line that just — whether the music creates the space for me to do that or something that I’ve seen — it doesn’t really matter, it just happens. That’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t feel so forced. I’m not going into a studio and forcing myself to make a song. It’s just a natural expression for me, and poetry has always been a way for me to feel. Poetry is beauty, man, it’s like a place where you get to say things in a manner that… you don’t get to speak that way in everyday life. So, it’s really nice to to make these experiences that were painful and make them beautiful.
I know you had the situation with Def Jam and I wanted to ask, how did you end up at Def Jam and what did you learn from that experience?
I guess I learned to trust my gut and that there’s nothing that a label could do for me that I can’t do for myself. I’ve always been a self-sustainable person and sometimes, in hopes of bringing your music to more people, you lose a little bit of yourself in the process. It kind of reminds me of when Drake won a won a Grammy a few years ago and he got on stage and he said, “This don’t mean nothing.” He said, “If you got people coming out to your shows in the snow, in the rain, you’ve already won. You don’t need this.” And I always loved when he said that, because that’s how I feel. If there’s one person in the world who puts their headphones on and vibes out to my music, I’m content.
I learned through that process and I’m grateful for the experience. I’m grateful for it all. No experience, no matter how stressful or annoying as things might be, none of it is in vain. It’s all part of the greater plan. Had that situation not happened, Memoirs in Armour wouldn’t have come out. I wouldn’t have made that album. I wouldn’t have made The Sword and The Soaring, so that was the blessing hidden in the frustration of what happened with them.
Why did you decide to record Memoirs after that situation.
Yeah, I didn’t want to be sitting around. I just gotta start making new joints and revisit a couple old joints that I thought weren’t good enough that were sitting in the hard drive for a year or two. I was like, “You know, these are good. People deserve to hear these.” Joints like “Slow” and “Time Slips” and “Say the Word,” joints that have just been sitting there, and I’m glad that they got to come out. You know, had the situation with Def Jam not happened, then I wouldn’t have made that album, and I’m proud of it.
There’s definitely more music to come that I’m excited for the world to hear, but it felt necessary to do The Sword and The Soaring, because Memoirs was only 10 joints. I thought it was very concise and a solid album, but it feels good to give the listeners a bit more and something to really sit with and digest and dive all the way in.
You mentioned being self sufficient earlier and I was curious about your relationship with Ka, because he was very big on that. He recorded, produced, made his own videos. Mailed everything out himself. Can you kind of talk about the relationship you guys had a little bit?
For sure, man. Ka’s a one-of-a-kind artist, and it’s very rare that you get to meet your heroes, even if the saying goes that you shouldn’t meet them. But in this case, I met one of my heroes, and out of that blossomed a really beautiful friendship and relationship. He became somebody that I could confide in. He was like a big brother/uncle figure. It’s almost like I felt connected to him, like I knew him before this life type s—t. I remember meeting him early on, and the first bit of advice that he gave me in regards to making music, he said, “Only make music with people that you’ve built a friendship with,” because then what you make is real. It’s not like a transaction. So, that was always some of my favorite advice — because that means the world to me, when you make music with somebody that you really connect with.
When Ka was finally willing to work with me… I didn’t even ask, I just played him a joint and he said, “Nah, send me that.” That solidified who I was to him. It made me feel really seen, understood. Even before knowing him, his music always felt like a hug to me. When I heard his music for the first time, it fully shifted everything that I was doing — not that I was doing anything different per se, but it gave me purpose. I just wanna make people feel, I wanna make someone else feel the way that I feel when I listen to this guy. He’s speaking about life in a way that feels sacred. The way that he speaks about his lived experience in such a poetic manner, in such a simple way that I could understand was always so intriguing. So, of course, as we do when we’re inspired, I tried to just take that little bit of magic that I was offered and tried to do something with it.
I mean, the little bit of magic being that, like, just that moment when I was like, “Wow, I want to do this,” and he was incredibly supportive of me. And beyond the music, he was a great friend and a confidant of sorts, someone that I could rely on, especially as an elder. Someone that I could really talk about the things that I was going through and get his advice on. I always yearned for that kind of big brother figure, and Ka was a force. I feel really lucky to even have gotten to know him, or to have known him in this lifetime.
How’s your experience been performing overseas?
The past 14 shows that I’ve done out here in Europe have been beautiful. Especially as a supporting act, because there’s a lot of new listeners — so it’s like, I’m going out there and I’m sharing my music with new people, and it’s really beautiful to witness people connect with it in the present moment, which is nice. Without any reference to who I am, what the music sounds like, I just come on the stage — and there’s definitely some listeners that are there — but it’s beautiful. It’s hard to do, but it’s also why I do it: for the experience, just challenging myself to get out there and be present, smile and share my music.
I definitely feel like I’ve left some of those shows with new listeners and people going, “Wow, that was beautiful” — especially with the language barrier, maybe they go home, and they want to have a deeper look into what I’m saying. I have some beautiful moments where I’m singing “La Noche” with people in the crowd, and it’s really amazing, man. I’m really grateful. Loyle Carner is a really solid dude, and he’s been really helpful, especially with how to navigate going out there and sharing such vulnerable music and feeling like sometimes you’re not getting anything back from the audience, but they’re listening. Just because they’re not bouncing and putting their hands up, they’re present, and they’re listening to what I have to say and that’s all I could ask for really.
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Iceland Airwaves managing director Ísleifur Thorhallsson, beaming in a festival-branded baseball cap, radiates enthusiasm as you enter NASA, a postcard-pretty conference hall in downtown Reykjavík, Iceland. “You can already feel the energy everywhere in the city,” he says on the eve of the festival’s 2025 edition. “This festival is built purely off passion.”
For four bustling days (Nov. 5-8), that sentiment rings true across nearly every corner of the city. Step inside the lobby of Center Hotels Laugavegur – where dozens of international industry figures congregate for the week – and you’re greeted by a 4K TV screen, playing music videos from Icelandic artists on loop. Festival posters transform Nordic-style buildings with bold splashes of colour. “Reykjavík Music City” tote bags swing on the shoulders of conference attendees, who exchange ideas over black coffee and thick slabs of hjónabandssaela – or “happy marriage cake,” a traditional rhubarb jam tart.
Launching in 1999 as a one-off weekender in an airplane hangar, Iceland Airwaves is now recognised as a premier event in the European festival calendar. Its guiding philosophy stems from how Reykjavík makes a lot of noise on the global stage, despite having a population of only 139,000; it’s a city that, through government grants and a cluster of marketing agencies focused on promoting music abroad, invests deeply in culture and empowers its artists.
Over the years, Iceland Airwaves has played host to acts that have gone on to become global stars, including Fontaines D.C. and Florence + The Machine, while also consistently showcasing a wide array of Icelandic talent. As with any new music festival, the trick is to come with an open mind and get ready to uncover acts ready to make a name for themselves.
Homegrown success stories that have come up through the festival in recent years include jazz-pop maestro Laufey, who played two sold-out nights at Madison Square Garden in October, and Grammy-nominated pianist Ólafur Arnalds. The international profile of Iceland’s music shows that locals already know that a prominent slot can be a key next step for a local artist’s success, but as has become the norm with this festival, delegates from across the U.K., US and Europe were invited to listen in and watch the magic unfold, too.
To that end, Iceland Airwaves holds its place as a tastemaker event, platforming breakthrough acts from both sides of the Atlantic as well as giving a boost to the future stars of its country. These were the biggest takeaways from 2025’s edition.
Gen Z Is Redefining the Festival Experience…
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This decade alone, Jekalyn Carr became the first gospel artist inducted into the Women Songwriters’ Hall of Fame, won her first Grammy (best gospel performance/song for “One Hallelujah”) and topped Gospel Airplay nine times — and she did it all before turning 30.
Carr, 28, is one of contemporary gospel music’s leading talents, and with her forthcoming album, Jekalyn x The Legends, the Memphis-born singer-songwriter is fully realizing her unique status as a bridge between generations. Set for release on Nov. 7 via WayNorth Music, Jekalyn’s new collaborative project will feature gospel music pillars including Pastor Shirley Caesar, Karen Clark Sheard, Yolanda Adams, Kim Burrell, John P. Kee, Bebe Winans, Dorinda Clark-Cole, Dottie Peoples, Harvey Watkins Jr., Lisa Page Brooks, The Williams Brothers and Dr. Bobby Jones.
“I think it’s our duty to continue to make sure that our generation, and the generations after, know about these artists,” Carr tells Billboard. “These aren’t just people whose songs we sang growing up in church — we still sing their songs, and they’re still putting out amazing music! I want to show the world the unity and the togetherness of the gospel industry.”
Jekalyn x The Legends arrives amid a precarious period for gospel music, especially considering five-time Grammy winner Chandler Moore’s bombshell exit from Maverick City Music and the top-selling group’s co-founder’s recent controversial comments. Earlier this year (July 25), Norman Gyamfi, who previously managed Moore, joined an Isaac Carree Show episode, saying, “Choir music would’ve never died if people wanted to listen to it… The gospel norms wasn’t working no more. Y’all sing too hard. Y’all oversing. Stop doing that. Nobody wants to hear no runs.”
With her new record, Carr, a powerhouse vocalist in her own right, reminds the world of the vitality of traditional gospel vocal stylings and its undeniable legacy across musical genres. Packed with inspirational anthems of gratitude, Jekalyn x Legends offers solace and wisdom as much as it edifies. Carr shared the record’s lead single, a Kee-assisted version of March’s “Don’t Faint,” in September, and with a second collaborative album in the works, she’s executing her role as gospel’s generational bridge with absolute precision.
Below, Carr speaks with Billboard about her new album, her favorite recording sessions, and the tense dynamic between traditional gospel and white Christian contemporary music.
How did you come up with the concept of Jekalyn x The Legends?
My dad pitched it to me! Anybody who knows me knows that I love the legends; I always mention them. This is the first time that I get to have a lot of the artists I’ve always wanted to work with on an actual album, from Pastor Shirley Caesar to Bebe Winans to Yolanda Adams. This album is about making sure the gap is being bridged. It’s about honoring these people who have made history not just in gospel, but in music in general. A lot of them have really crossed over mainstream and held onto their core values, which I think is very inspiring.
Which studio session was your favorite?
All of them are great, but one that was very different for me was with Pastor Shirley Caesar. We actually recorded her part a cappella. We had music ready to go, but I was like, “Pastor Shirley, I want you to just go for it and do your thing! I want to take the music out.” And when I tell you… it was just such an amazing [experience].
What did God put on your heart and mind during these recording sessions?
Each song carries its own weight and message. One of my favorite songs is “I Break,” where I’m talking about breaking negative cycles, generational curses, and all these things from the root. Because at the end of the day, you cannot live freely or thrive if you’re weighted down. A lot of people feel like they can’t be free. A lot of people feel like they were held hostage for a long time. But this song reminds you that it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been in it; you can get up from it.
Why did you introduce this album with “Don’t Faint?” Why did John P. Kee feel like the right voice to add to that song?
I always sit back and receive what it is that [I’m] supposed to release for the year — and “Don’t Faint” was that. So many people have heard, “This is going to happen for you! You’re going to see this and that!” And they have not seen it yet. [“Don’t Faint” reminds] you that just because you haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it’s not going to be your portion. Sometimes you have to push and fight a little harder, but you can’t give up. And John P. Kee, I mean… he’s John P. Kee! I heard his voice on it, and I just felt like he would be the perfect fit for this song. When I reached out to him, it was an automatic yes. It was a wonderful experience having his timeless, classic voice [on my record].
How did you approach arranging a song like “I Love You,” which features three vocal powerhouses between Kim Burrell, Lisa Page Brooks and yourself?
The beauty of this song is that you have three different ladies with three different styles and textures of voices, but we all have the same message: God has been good to us, and we love Jesus! I wanted to mix it up a little bit, so each person has a verse that tells the history of different seasons in our lives that made us love God even more. And it just goes higher and higher. We recorded [our parts for] that song individually, but it felt like we were there together. For each album, I always have a song that just signifies thanksgiving, and “I Love You” is that song [Jekalyn x The Legends].
What did you think of Maverick City Music co-founder Norman Gyamfi’s recent comments about gospel music?
I think we all understand [that] everybody is not the same. If we all were the same, the industry would be boring. What I had to realize is that [I] may not be for every audience, but I’m assigned to somebody. I had to learn how to love what I have to offer. You should never feel like you have to convert to something else because it’s “working.” Be yourself because maybe [those people] are graced for that and that’s what they’re supposed to do. It’s a lot of things I can do. I believe if I really put my mind to it, I could do a little jazz. However, I’m confident in who I am and what I have to offer. We have to learn how to embrace everybody’s style.
There’s been lots of talk about different types of faith-based music, especially Christian contemporary music, thriving in the marketplace, seemingly at the expense of more traditional styles of gospel. Where do you fall on that?
We have to stop looking at it as two different things. The message is the same; it’s just different styles. You have some Black artists who are strictly worship, does that make them not gospel? No. The message is what really matters. As long as the message hasn’t changed and people are still blessed and inspired, that’s all that matters.
How do you hope to translate Jekalyn x The Legends to a live setting?
We’re working on a documentary about the album! I want to show the before, the in-between, and make it a very well-rounded documentary. There may [also] be a tour. I want the legends on the stage — and this is just chapter one. I couldn’t get everybody on this one album, but we’ve already made phone calls, and I still have people to reach out to. It’s very important that this doesn’t stop at an album, and [people] actually see it live in person too.
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Harlem has itself another rap star.
Liim seemingly came out of nowhere and dropped a critically acclaimed project in Liim Lasalle Loves You, a coming-of-age, genre-bending debut that has caught the attention of the likes of Tyler, The Creator. Signed to veteran record exec Sickamore’s three times LOUDER (IIIXL) label, Liim’s rise has been fast.
The Harlem rapper grew up in a strict Muslim household where secular music wasn’t allowed to be played. This made him curious which then led to him discovering his natural calling. He’s been putting out music since about 2022, with the release of his single “Pupils,” while also doubling as a model for Supreme — and was noticed in 2023 by an IIIXL A&R in one of the skate brand’s ads. “I don’t know,” he answers, after being asked what made the upstart label sign him. “But I know one of the A&R’s, Ezana [Atakli], said he seen me in a Supreme thing, and then he clicked on my s—t and heard my music. I had a song called ‘Mary J’ at the time.”
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And while he’s been actively putting out records for the better part of three years, it wasn’t until he began making this particular project that he found his sound. Producer Shamshawan DM’d Liim wanting to work and the two hit it off immediately. “From there, I started recording everyday,” he said. “It was crazy, because I never been in that type of mentality with music. I wasn’t struggling at all. I didn’t have to write nothing. I was just spitting. It was just working out for me.” He’s now found himself among the new rising talent here in the city that started this rap thing, alongside the likes of his labelmate Laila! and sexy drill aficionado Cash Cobain.
Liim stopped by the Billboard office in New York City with his management to talk about his influences, the crafting of his debut album, and growing up in a city full of opportunity for a kid like him.
Check out our convo below.
I peeped that Tyler co-signed you — and let me know if I’m buggin’, but I hear his influence in this album. Is that true?
How do you feel like you hear the influence?
Just some of the melodies, like “Why Why” reminds me of some of his R&B stuff.
I feel like what it is — [from what] I’ve seen from Tyler’s interviews or whatever — when he talks about his influences in music, we got pretty similar ones. And if not me and him having similar ones, him and my producer, Shamshawan, they both love the Neptunes and s—t. So the production is kind of in that world. I f—k with a lot of bossa nova music and s—t like that, so the first track is kind of bossa nova, then it goes into a kind of Pharrell-y vibe. I don’t think I take direct inspiration from him.
Well, I mean some of the tracks just reminded me of some of his. You’re also into Max B, so it’s a mix of all these influences that you have. And what’s interesting is that you say you grew up not being able to play certain music in your house because your mother is Muslim. Can you talk about that?
No music. All you heard was the Quran playing in the crib.
Did that make you more curious about music?
Facts.
So, how does she feel about you career choice?
She’s proud of me. As I got older, I was like, “That don’t make no sense.” And my mom is on her Dīn and whatnot, but she’ll listen to my music just to support.
You had told Kid Mero that Max B reminded you of your late father because he was a Harlem dude. How did you get put on to Max?
It’s funny, even though growing up in Harlem and s—t, I never really heard kids my age listen to Max B ever. But when I started skateboarding, it was them n—as — the older skaters were fans, and always had Max B playing.
Skaters are an underrated subculture within rap music. A lot of them have good taste when it comes to music and style. I also noticed that you use a camcorder aesthetic in some of your videos. You used to run around with a camcorder?
I used to film skateboarders sometimes before I was making music. I just know how to use that camera. A lot of my earlier videos I shot by myself type s—t, or I would tell my homie to hold the camera like this. My goal is to do high-budget videos, but the camera’s mad cheap.
You must be a fan of that era because you’re hella young and dress like you could be in Dipset, and even though you’re not making “traditional” New York music, I can still tell that you’re from the city.
I don’t know. I feel like the music that was coming out as I was getting older, like the drill and all that s—t… I’ve made a few drill songs and s—t like that, but I was like, this s—t is kind of ass, bro. Everybody’s saying the exact same thing. And then I was thinking about it, and all my music really changed. I don’t know how n—s want to call it? Woke? I don’t know, just conscious of my people, Black people and s—t like murder music, and where that came from. We didn’t make murder music. That’s lowkey some s—t white people say, and that’s not really us. We had Marvin Gaye. We had Stevie [Wonder], all these n—as that sing about love. I feel like I’m trying to bring love back into music.
Oh, okay, so you’re a lover boy?
Most definitely. I’m going on a date tonight.
How would you describe your sound? How did you land on this for this specific album? How did it come together?
If I’m being real, I kind of just let the beats dictate what I was saying. I freestyled most of the song and whatever came out came out. I wasn’t thinking too hard about it. I wasn’t listening to any music similar. The whole time this album was being made, I was listening to Saaheem, SahBabii’s album. I was listening to that just now before I came in here. I feel like I wouldn’t know how to really describe my song. I just feel like, I don’t know, It’s kind of like introspective, coming of age music.
How involved was Sicamore, in terms of helping you put this together?
The way Sic works…I feel like he’s not the most hands on, like, “Yo, you should do this, you should do that.” He’ll drop in suggestions, but he’s mostly a supportive n—a. He’ll be like, “Yo, you about to be a star.”
He lets you do your thing.
Yeah, because he’s trying to help you build the trust in yourself, that you don’t need too much help. He helps when I gotta figure out how I’m gonna shoot this video or get my music to people.
How old were you when you decided that you wanted to be a rapper?
Honestly, bro, like young. I always had a desire for music because I didn’t have it around type s—t. I could show you a video right now of when I was a little n—a freestyling. There was this challenge on YouTube called #The10ToesDownChallenge.
I wanted to ask you about that. You mentioned the video in the Mero interview. How old are you there? Like f—kin’ 14?
Younger than that. Probably like 11. You already had that bug in you. Exactly. You can’t really hear what I’m saying because I’m recording off the ‘droid and for YouTube at the same time. [Laughs.]
So, how long did it take you to make this project?
It’s funny because when I signed in 2023, I made an album with concepts and all this s—t, and I scrapped the entire thing. There were like 20 songs and I was like, “D–n, what am I gonna do now?”
Why did you scrap it?
I just didn’t like it. It was ass, bro. It just sounded basic. I don’t even know if I even have any of the songs.
I’m assuming it sounded way different from your most recent project. Were there any remnants of this project in there?
None. It was completely different. I just didn’t know what I wanted it to sound like. It wasn’t too far from my sound but it was kinda boring, you know? I felt like it wouldn’t change anybody’s life or anybody’s perspective. I was working on music for a long ass time, maybe about a year just working on random s—t. I was out of the studio for a while, I had gotten a job managing a warehouse, bro, like a real job [Laughs.]
When was this?
I quit in August of last summer and and after I quit, I started going back to stu again, then I met up this n—a Sham who produced most of the album. He DM’d me about getting in the studio and for some reason all the beats he sent me just hit. I had an idea for everything. I was roughly done with the songs in maybe six months? The mixing process took mad long. So, in terms of recording, it took like six months to make the album and in terms of it being ready to be released, it took a full year.
I peeped that you mentioned that your studio is aesthetically pleasing. Walk us through that. What does that mean? What’s in the studio?
Got the nice warm light. I’m into my spaces. I don’t f—k with the studios that have the f—king LED lights and all that bulls—t. Some suave s—t.
What do you want to get out of your career?
I just want to make an impact, bro. That’s really it. I just want to make an impact in the youth to where they make music that’s not bulls—t. I want to make passionate music. Another artist I feel like I see doing that is Nourished by Time. He makes like ’80s-influenced R&B. You should check him out.
The name of the album was inspired by Stevie Wonder?
Yeah, facts. “Steve Wonder Loves You.” I saw a shirt he had that said, “Stevie Wonder Loves You.” I was like, “I want to do that for my merch.” And then it went from a merch idea to being the name of the album.
Are you already plotting out your next project?
Yeah, facts. I got the name already, bro. I got concepts down. Has the response to this tape inspire you to to keep working? I mean, definitely, but I was already working on this s—t before this. I’m grateful. I’m just glad n—s like it, but I really made it for myself at the end of the day. I’m just happy with the music. I can actually listen to it and be like, “Oh, this hard.”
Liim is heading out across the pond for a “European Excursion.” You can find tickets here and can check out the dates below.
Friday, Nov. 7 – Jumbi – Terrace, LondonTuesday, Nov. 11 – Paradiso – Basement, AmsterdamThursday, Nov. 13 – Fifty Lab Festival, BrusselsFriday, Nov. 14 – Jah Jah, Paris & Soho House, Paris
Trending on Billboard
“I’m on an adrenaline run at this point,” Grammy-winning reggae icon Shaggy tells Billboard less than a week after Hurricane Melissa made landfall on his home country of Jamaica. “I was around when [Hurricane] Gilbert happened, which [was] a Category 3… when I heard [Hurricane Melissa] was a Category 5, I [couldn’t] imagine what this would be.”
Last week (Oct. 28), nearly 40 years after Gilbert, Hurricane Melissa became the strongest storm to strike Jamaica in the island’s history. In the following days, the storm also made landfall in Cuba (Oct. 29), devastated parts of Haiti, and brought residual rainfall and intense winds to the rest of the Caribbean — and, later, to the Northeastern coast of the United States. According to The New York Times, the death toll in Jamaica from Hurricane Melissa is now a devastating 28 — and that’s with dozens of communities still awaiting aid, as local authorities and humanitarian workers continue clearing debris.
Shaggy, who topped the Billboard Hot 100 twice in 2001 with the reggae crossover classics “It Wasn’t Me” and “Angel,” was one of the first homegrown superstars to spring into action and spearhead relief efforts, alongside Beenie Man, Spice and Sean Paul. Once the airports opened on Thursday (Oct. 30), Shaggy mobilized a network of on-the-ground partners, including humanitarian NGOs and private donors, to coordinate and fund flights carrying food, water, medical aid and household essentials to Jamaica’s most impacted areas.
“We got [to Jamaica] early enough to reach the people, because it took me around six hours to get from Kingston to St. Elizabeth in Black River, which is normally a two-and-a-half-hour drive at most,” Shaggy tells Billboard. “We had to chop [tree] limbs down, move things out the way, and drive through high puddles of [runoff], so we got there in the middle of the night. At that point, all we could do was pass water out, so we had to regroup and drive six hours back to Kingston. The next day, we went to the Junction side of St. Elizabeth, which took us four hours. The square itself was shut down. It was ground zero because it wasn’t livable anymore. Nobody could stay there.”
According to Reuters, Hurricane Melissa left nearly half a million Jamaicans without power and destroyed critical water systems and supply lines. With the island’s southwestern parishes, specifically St. Elizabeth and Westmoreland, remaining difficult to access due to flooding, landslides and debris, thousands of Jamaicans remain housed in emergency shelters, which presents an entirely different set of challenges, such as overcrowding. Whether they’re braving shelters or making their way to the eastern side of the island, families across Jamaica are still reeling from Hurricane Melissa.
Shaggy helps with post-hurricane relief efforts in Jamaica on November 1, 2025.
JAY WILL
“The devastation and shock are real,” Shaggy notes. “For some of these kids, therapy is going to be [very important]. It’s not just food and clothes and shelter.
“You’re never really prepared for something like this; It’s the biggest [hurricane] on record,” he continues. “[The government is] doing their best to see what they can do to get in there. Large trucks are going to have a hard time going through the debris, so you’re going to need the military and urban development to clear up the roads so that supplies can come in, and that might take a couple of days. Smaller vehicles have the advantage of getting in there, so we’ve been doing that so that people are not starving until the big aid comes.”
In addition to delivering everything from roofing supplies and Pampers to “flashlights, batteries, everything that you can think of putting on a list,” Shaggy has also teamed with Global Empowerment Mission (GEM), which has been on the ground on the island since Hurricane Beryl in 2024. “Food for the Poor, of course, also has a major headquarters in Jamaica,” Shaggy adds. “I’ve done lots of work with them. Sean [Paul] is working with them closely right now, so I decided to work with GEM to spread it all around. There’s also the government site, www.supportjamaica.gov.jm.”
Jamaica is home to some of the music industry’s biggest and most iconic voices — from Shaggy himself and reggae iconoclasts like Bob Marley and Peter Tosh to dancehall superstars like Vybz Kartel and Shenseea. At the top of this year, Kartel made his Billboard cover debut with a whirlwind “24 hours in Kingston” interview ahead of his historic Freedom Street concert. This spring, Billboard also reported that, in under a year. New York’s UBS Arena hosted five $1 million-grossing Caribbean-headlined shows across four different genres. In days immediately following the storm, AccuWeather experts estimated up to $52 billion in damages and economic loss from Hurricane Melissa across the Caribbean.
“I don’t think anybody’s in any festive mood at this point,” Shaggy says of the future of Jamaica’s music and live entertainment industries post-Hurricane Melissa. “Jamaica is a land that doesn’t have any shortage of talent or artists or culture; it’s easier to get aid from people because of our cultural status. But we’re still not getting enough coverage. The minute you’re not in the press is when the aid goes, unfortunately. Keeping up awareness in the press is something that we need to do.”
Additional verified aid channels include World Food Programme, Project HOPE, GiveDirectly, American Friends of Jamaica, and Friends of Caritas Cuba. Click here to see how more celebrities have been reacting to Hurricane Melissa.
Source: Rick Kern / Getty
It was the late summer of 1997, and the Wu-Tang Clan was imploding. The two-fisted Staten Island, N.Y. Hip-Hop crew had been on the road with radical leftist rockers Rage Against The Machine on one of the summer’s most buzzy and infamous tours. The gloriously combustible union between the two counter-culture behemoths was a ‘90s kid’s fever dream.
The double-platinum Wu-Tang Clan was certainly an inspired pick as touring mates for Rage Against The Machine. Along with unconventional mastermind and producer, the RZA, the ragtag army included a murderer’s row of boundless, hood-stamped lyricists — the GZA, Raekwon the Chef, Inspectah Deck, Method Man, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Ghostface Killah, U-God, and Masta Killa. Their philosophy was a bewildering mix of Kung Fu film fandom, harrowing street testimonies, and Five Percent Nation ideology.
But cracks had already begun to appear. There were frequent issues over the $45,000 that the Wu was being paid per performance. Back then, such a figure was a tidy sum, especially for a nuclear hot act whose sophomore double album, Wu-Tang Forever, had just sold a whopping 612,000 copies its first week of release. Yet the large makeup of the crew was starting to take a toll. Members frequently missed shows. There was grumbling amongst the clique that they had forsaken their around-the-way base for Rage’s largely white suburban followers.
“We were some young, dumb gangsters back then until we got our sh*t together.”—Raekwon
It was during an Aug. 29 show in Tinley Park, Ill., when the bottom completely fell out. There were backstage reports that some members of the Wu beat up a promotions manager who worked for their home label, Loud Records. The next day, the group officially jumped ship.
“It is my understanding, through the twisted labyrinth that is the communication system of the Wu-Tang Clan, that they’re not playing any more shows on the tour in part because of difficulties they’re having within their own group,” said Rage guitarist and leader Tom Morello in a press release.
Nearly 30 years later, Ghostface Killah is in an immaculate mood on a rainy August evening. The acclaimed wordsmith is basking in the glow of the warm reception surrounding his newest release, Supreme Clientele 2, the proper sequel to his 2000 classic. “I know how important that album is,” Ghostface says of the daunting task of recording a follow-up to Supreme Clientele, one of his most celebrated solo statements in Wu-Tang Clan lore. “But I never felt any kind of nervousness. That never came to mind.”
Ghost professed he reveled in the throwback energy of Hip-Hop’s Golden Age on Supreme Clientele 2 tracks like the first single “Rap Kingpin” and “Beat Box.” He admitted he gets a tad uncomfortable when asked to ponder his legacy (“I really don’t be tripping off that stuff…”). But it’s not until the subject turns to his Wu brothers that you realize the wide-eyed irony of the collective’s full circle evolution.
This past summer, the Wu-Tang Clan embarked on a 27-date concert tour in June and July dubbed The Final Chamber. It was one of the more intriguing concert industry success stories, grossing $30.6 million, according to Billboard Boxscore. And there were no crackups like in ’97.
This time around, all the original Wu members, along with slang master Cappadonna and the son of the late wild man ODB, Young Dirty Bastard, presented a strong, energetic, united front. This was a heart-on-the-sleeve showing that featured such crew classics as “Da Mystery of Chessboxin’,” “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing ta F’ Wit,” and “Triumph” as well as celebrated solo cuts by Method Man (“Bring the Pain”); Raekwon (‘Incarcerated Scarfaces”); the GZA (“Liquid Swords”); Ghostface Killah (“Holla”); and ODB (“Shimmy Shimmy Ya”).
“We were some young, dumb gangsters back then until we got our sh*t together,” Raekwon said of the Clan’s turbulent journey while at the group’s capacity-packed July 16 gig at New York’s crown jewel, Madison Square Garden. The Wu’s triumphant return especially hit home, given that when the rhyme troop first hit the scene in the early ’90s, Staten Island, known as a haven for cops and firefighters, was virtually a punchline in New York’s Bronx-Queens-Brooklyn dominant scene. “It’s amazing to be in the game 30 years and to sell out [MSG],” an overwhelmed Method Man added. “That sh*t is ridiculous.”
Ghostface echoes his Wu mates. “Yes, it’s surreal,” he says of the 2025 Wu love fest. “To see how we developed up to this stage is crazy. Like damn, we still headlining tours. And then for us to still be writing at the level that we are writing at is like, okay, now you get the chance to really see who the true masters are.”
It’s almost inconceivable that the same rappers hailing from the Slums of Shaolin that warned the world to “Protect Ya Neck” on their landmark 1993 debut, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), have become cuddly, elder statesmen. They are all practically family men now (GFK himself has one daughter and three sons). In an Oct. 15 interview with People, Inspectah Deck opened up about how raising kids has mellowed the once wild bunch.
“My daughter is going to medical school. My son’s about to start art school. I have a young one.” Deck said. “Everyone’s growing, families are growing now. RZA’s son plays in our band. Some of us are grandfathers, and so I understand the life cycle. I’m not trying to stop what’s the natural progression of things. You can’t hold on to everything forever. But Wu-Tang is forever.”
“Not everybody is going to love you. But in certain people’s eyes we did something right.”—Ghostface
The Clan has grown so respectable in recent years, in fact, that their music can frequently be heard in corporate television ads. Ghostface’s frenetic 2006 joint, “The Champ,” anchors Amazon Prime. NIKE tapped the group’s catalog for their 2024 New York Knicks player-featured, Wu-Tang Can Dunk Highs Killer Bees campaign. Raekwon appeared in a Super Bowl TV commercial for DoorDash, reacting drolly to a shopper reciting the lyrics to the Wu’s classic single. “C.R.E.A.M.” And there are commercials featuring ODB’s “I Got Your Money” (LG WashTower) and the RZA (Apple Watch).
Yet Madison Avenue co-signs and high-profile sit-downs with instant viral podcasters Shannon Sharpe and Chad “Ochocinco” Johnson, Fat Joe and Jadakiss, and Smartless would just be stuck in mere sentimentality if the grizzled Wu vets weren’t still lyrically sharp.
“There is the nostalgia of having their music in our DNA,” says Yves “DJ Whoo Kid” Mondesir, longtime New York Hip-Hop tastemaker and SHADE 45 radio host. “But the Wu are showing that Hip-Hop is back. All these young rappers can’t f*ck with them. The older artists are taking it back.”
For Grammy-winning icon DJ Premier, often celebrated as one of Hip-Hop’s most influential producers alongside old rival and friend the RZA, the Wu transcends fads. “Ghostface reminds me of the era I grew up in,” Preemo explains. “I’m 59 years old, so he sounds like he’s spitting over some ’86 breakbeats, but for today. That’s the Wu-Tang Clan. Timeless.”
Source: Paras Griffin / Getty
Indeed, there’s something downright inspiring about witnessing Method Man, 54, jump from his professional working actor bag to reclaiming his spot as one of rap’s most charismatic voices still capable of turning heads with a random, rewind-worthy freestyle like him and Raekwon on 50 Cent’s “Window Shopper.” In April, all nine living members of the Wu appeared on the Mathematics-produced limited release Black Samson, the Bastard Swordsman.
Last July, Raekwon dropped his eighth studio album, The Emperor’s New Clothes, to critical acclaim. Hearing the Chef and an in-the-zone Nas on the standout track “The Omerta” is like being transported back to the youthful pair’s classic Only Built 4 Cuban Linx deep cut, “Verbal Intercourse.”
Yet perhaps the award for the most WU-TANG CLAN (!!!) statement in years goes to Ghostface’s “The Trial” from Starks’ Supreme Clientele 2. The concept record, featuring GFK’s fellow spitters Raekwon, Method Man, and the GZA, is essentially a courtroom drama on wax. It’s the type of high art recording made for Hip-Hop nerds.
“That was a fun one,” Ghostface recalls. “The Trial” is me and Rae on the stand facing a case. We were going back and forth with that one for about a year and [a] half. Rae finally coughed it up, and my brother was like, ‘Yo, you need to get the Genius and Meth on it.’ Meth plays the judge. He got his sh*t done in one day. The Genius was taking all day… you know how he is [laughs]. He did his verse two months later.”
Of course, this is the kind of good-natured, brotherly ribbing that can only come with decades of fighting in the trenches together. The Wu-Tang Clan can be an unmitigated mess (U-God filed a lawsuit against RZA and his brother Mitchell “Divine” Diggs, CEO of Wu-Tang Productions, in 2016 over royalties and placed blame on the producer over the group’s breakup in his 2018 memoir RAW: My Journey Into the Wu-Tang).
But in the end, the Wu is too big to fail. In a bit of ultimate Hip-Hop karma, Martin Shkreli, the disgraced “Pharma Bro” who was forced to forfeit ownership of the one-of-a-kind Wu-Tang Clan album Once Upon a Time in Shaolin following his securities fraud conviction, currently faces a lawsuit for copying the work and playing it online without permission. (Shkreli purchased the auctioned album back in 2015 for a record $2 million and was later universally rebuked for raising the price of a life-saving, anti-infective drug Daraprim overnight.)
There are plans to extend the Clan’s successful “final” jaunt overseas in 2026. Last June, Raekwon unveiled the trailer for the much-anticipated documentary for his seminal Only Built 4 Cuban Linx release titled The Purple Tape Files, featuring appearances by the Chef’s OB4CL partner-in-rhyme Ghostface, Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg, and Mobb Deep’s Havoc, Method Man, along with other Wu alumni. That same month, RZA debuted his martial arts indie film One Spoon of Chocolate at the Tribeca Film Festival. And Ghost is eyeing a Supreme Clientele 2 tour.
Both Rae and Ghost are featured on the Oct. 10 Mobb Deep set Infinite, which includes unreleased, posthumous bars from late rhyme great Prodigy. And Method Man recently updated his long-in-the-making team-up album with Mobb spitter and all-world producer Havoc. “We are still working on our Covid album we started in 2019,” Meth recently told TMZ of the project called Dirty P, a release that serves as a tribute to both ODB and the aforementioned Prodigy. “It needed some tracks, and it should be out soon. Havoc is a master of his sound. He has mastered sound like RZA.”
“We are trying to figure some things out,” says Ghostface when asked about the Wu’s next move. Ghost recently postponed his Supreme Clientele 2 Tour due to, strangely enough, the government shutdown.)When asked his thoughts on Raekwon proudly hailing his brothers as “one of one,” he responds in classic GFK fashion. “You know, not everybody is going to love you,” he says. “But in certain people’s eyes, we did something right.”
Source: Paras Griffin / Getty
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Photo: Getty
Trending on Billboard
Since it first roared onto the Billboard charts with 2009’s Guns Don’t Kill People… Lazers Do LP, Major Lazer has established itself as one of the most innovative collectives in mainstream music through its fusion of EDM, dancehall, hip-hop, reggaetón, trap and soca. Now, the group’s three current members — Diplo, Walshy Fire and Ape Drums — have officially added a fourth name to the lineup: America Foster.
A 28-year-old British-Jamaican artist, model and content creator, America Foster hails from the outskirts of London in South Buckinghamshire. As one of seven children in a household dominated by boys, she quickly learned how to lean into her knack for entertaining to ensure her voice was heard. She remembers developing her freestyling as a party trick as young as 10, and around age 15, she started playing around with accents and voice acting, sending friends into laughing fits with prank calls and her imitations of the London Underground voiceover. As she entered the final years of her adolescence and her creative friends started seriously pursuing their dreams, Foster brushed off countless requests to hop in the booth and freestyle over a track.
“I was completely opposed to it,” she recalls. “And then one of my friends [convinced] me to come to their studio session, the producers spun around in their chairs like, ‘Your turn!’ I was like, ‘Not happening!’ That ended up being the first time I ever put my vocals on a studio recording.”
Foster is the first to admit that those early songs weren’t the strongest — “They were very commercial, Chris Brown dance-pop; I call it McDonald’s music” — but she eventually landed on a sound that distilled the authenticity, cultural fluency and bubbly quirk of her off-the-cuff social media content, which garnered her hundreds of thousands of followers pre-Major Lazer and resulted in a Red Rat-informed approach to dancehall toasting and singjaying anchored by her striking charisma.
After a few viral clips caught Diplo’s attention, Foster quickly took advantage of the potential music industry connection. She thanked the Grammy-winning DJ for following her, and the two started exchanging music, culminating in an in-person meeting at his Roundhouse show last September. There, the pair planned a studio session in Jamaica, where Foster met the rest of Major Lazer, and by Paris’ Fête de la Musique in June, she made her live debut with the group. In July, Foster officially announced her addition to Major Lazer via Instagram.
Arriving as the group’s youngest and first woman member, Foster made her official Major Lazer debut with a freestyle remix of August’s “Gangsta,” a shatta-informed track that also features Kybba and Busy Signal. A few weeks later (Oct. 24), Foster joined forces with buzzy Toronto artist Sadboi and Emmy-winning choreographer Parris Goebel for “Bruk Down,” a standout ‘90s dancehall-inspired track that doubles as Goebel’s musical debut. Goebel also co-directed the track’s flashy music video alongside Philippa Price.
“She understands what she’s good at, and she understands that she’s got a market for it. It’s genius to me,” Foster tells Billboard about working with Goebel. “I’ve heard some of her songs that are due to come out, and they are amazing — especially for the dance community.”
In a candid conversation with Billboard, America Foster details her origins, integrating herself into the Major Lazer family, fashioning “Bruk Down” out of a freestyle and what else she’s cooking up with her new groupmates.
What are some of your earliest musical memories?
[They’re] definitely attached to dance. Rhythm and beat [were] my first introduction [to music]; I never really heard lyrics for what they were when I was younger. I’d be able to recite a whole song, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you the content.
Where do you consider home?
Growing up, I lived just on the outskirts of London. But my heart was always in Northwest London; I was always there. That’s where my mum and her sisters were raised, and my gran still lives there. During weekends, half-terms and school holidays, I’d be in London. And then I’d be living in South Buckinghamshire, which is where I was raised.
How did you land on the “America Foster” sound?
Eight years ago, when I first got into the studio, I didn’t understand my sound, so I started trying to develop it. I really captured my sound in the last four years. I made a couple of demos that were getting close, but they weren’t the final sound, which were the demos that I actually sent to Diplo.
You connected with him over Instagram, right?
He came across my page from a viral moment; I’ve had quite a few of those on Instagram from my content creation. I was trying to figure out how to transition into being a respected artist, so I started dropping bits of content surrounded by my music. Whether I’m talking about the weather or my menstruation, I put it in a rhyme pattern and people love it — especially because you don’t expect me to have such a strong Jamaican accent, because I’m light-skinned and from England, and my name’s America. It’s like, “What the f—k is going on?” [Laughs.]
He followed me off a viral freestyle, and I was really excited, because I was seriously making music at the time. I knew that he was behind Major Lazer, and I also know he was behind [M.I.A.’s] “Paper Planes.” I grew up to that song, just banging it out constantly. So, obviously, I shot my shot. I thanked him for the follow and sent about four demos. We started exchanging music on WhatsApp, and he’d send me beats he heard my voice on.
Last September, he came to London, and I met him at the Roundhouse while he was performing. The next day, we went to a football game and planned for a studio session in Jamaica, which is where I met the rest of Major Lazer.
What was that first meeting like?
It was amazing, we just clicked. Me and Walshy were bantering left, right and center; it felt like I had known these guys for ages. It didn’t feel like the first initial meeting at all. I went to Diplo’s home in Jamaica, and it’s quite a showroom home, but it still has this beautiful, homely vibe. I had 32 hours in Jamaica, and we made six songs, one of which was “Bruk Down.”
“Bruk Down” started as a freestyle, right?
Diplo just had the beat running, and we all knew it was f—king hard. He kept it running to see if we came up with anything; he even freestyled a little bit, which was quite funny. And then I just heard, “Bruk out, bruk out, waan fi.” I knew I liked that, but I wanted to repeat it twice, and then change it a bit the third time. Walshy was in the room, and he was like, “Yea, man, dat fyah!” Diplo also liked it, so I continued freestyling and writing at the same time.
It’s crazy how the final version sounds like a completely different song from how it first started. My initial freestyle was shared with Parris Goebel and Sadboi, and when I heard it with their parts, it sounded so good. I was only briefly familiar with Sadboi, and I hadn’t connected the dots about who Parris was. I didn’t know she was making music. I was like, “Oh my God, my music video’s gonna be sick!” [Laughs.]
Did you have any initial reservations about pursuing your music career through a collective as opposed to just going solo from the jump?
About two years before Major Lazer was on the table, I thought about being in a girl group. And I was like…. no. I just couldn’t see that for me. Part of me felt like I had to really weigh it up and see what the exit would look like.
When Major Lazer came into the picture, I was like, “Oh my God, this is the best group that could have ever asked me to join them.” Firstly, it’s all boys. Secondly, they’re not vocalists; they’re producers and DJs, so I’d be the only vocalist, which gives me the opportunity to still be a solo artist.
Being the only woman and the youngest, what made you trust these guys?
My familiarity [with them] through their music. Through being a consumer, I felt like I knew them already. That’s why it felt so family-oriented in the first meeting. I’m big on signs, energy and spirituality, and I just followed my gut.
What does your contract look like?
It’s a featured artist agreement. I’m contracted as the fourth member.
So, you’re technically an unsigned artist?
Yes.
Is America a stage name or your given name?
Birth name. I was orphaned by the age of four, and my mum gave me my name. I look at it as if that was the best and final gift that my mum could have given me. I can’t change it, even though I hated the name when I was younger. I’m the only one out of my siblings with the name of a country or state or continent. I don’t have a middle name.
My mum knew something that no one else knew. She knew what she gave birth to. I can’t put a different name on my stardom. I don’t feel like that would be paying homage to my mum. She would have been a performer if she was still about; she had the essence that I do, but I’ve just been able to live and show it.
What else from your childhood do you see reflected in the music you make today?
My inspirations. When I’m freestyling, I hear Beenie Man, Elephant Man, Vybz Kartel, a little bit of Lady Saw, all of that. I hear their attitude in my freestyles. The sound I’m running with at the moment is Red Rat’s; I’m paying homage to him. I’m tuning in to the things that made me love music in the first place, taking elements of all of that at combining it with who I am to produce something that the world will just say “yes” to.
How do you anticipate your content creation might evolve as your artist career grows?
I’m not creating content; I’m capturing moments. There’s a difference for me. It’ll be exactly the same. I’ll just be capturing bigger moments and things that people will want to see: being on the road with the boys, backstage banter and little humorous exchanges.
Do you feel embraced by Major Lazer’s fanbase?
I’m definitely taking it in. With my social media content, I was becoming a little bit more known in London. A year before [joining] Major Lazer, I went to Barbados, and someone recognized me. That was like one of the first moments that I realized how far my reach is.
Major Lazer’s fan base is great. They’ve taken me in like I’ve been a member since day one. It feels like they have literally said, “Oh, Diplo, you like her, yeah? Walshy? Cool, we like you too.”
Top three Major Lazer songs of all time?
“Pon de Floor,” “Hold the Line” and “Watch Out for This (Bumaye).”
Trending on Billboard
Brandi Carlile thinks she might have an problem with co-dependency.
She may well be the most decorated Americana artist in recent memory; she’s won 11 Grammys over the course of the last six years (among a whopping 26 career nominations) alongside a pair of Children’s and Family Emmy Awards and an Oscar nomination. She routinely sells out arenas and has been heralded by many as a singular live performer. She’s even sent four of her eight albums to the top ten of the Billboard 200.
But even still, the 44-year-old singer-songwriter says that she’s long felt a sense of “inadequecy” when it comes to both her everyday life and her career, thanks to what she deems a reliance on the companionship of others. It’s not hard to see why she might feel that way — Carlile is one of the most sought-after collaborators, with featured appearances on songs from modern pop stars like Miley Cyrus and Sam Smith, to musical legends like Elton John and Joni Mitchell.
“That’s kind of permeated my personality since I was a little girl. I don’t want to spend the night with myself, I don’t want to go have a meal with myself, I would never watch a movie by myself,” she tells Billboard on a video call. “My aversion to aloneness makes me feel a bit unevolved. Is my tendency to be with, to be in service to, to walk with other people really me being unevolved? Or is it just who I am? I guess I’m still pulling it apart.”
Those thorny questions rest at the center of Carlile’s remarkable eighth solo studio album, Returning to Myself (out today via Interscope Records/Lost Highway). Written and produced alongside pop-rock maestro Andrew Watt with additional work from The National’s Aaron Dessner and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, the album tracks Carlile’s own untangling of deeply personal insecurities around ego, legacy, politics and independence. A mid-life crisis has never sounded quite this poetic.
The artist says that her new album was born, oddly, from her lack of desire to get back to creating solo albums. “Part of me really didn’t want to do it. Part of me wanted to just go back to being knee-to-knee with all my collaborators and writers and producers and friends,” she says. “It’s incredibly affirming when the people that you idolized growing up are looking at you going, ‘You’re really good, you’re very, very good.’ And that could be an addiction in and of itself — you can very easily just live in that affirmation and never take another risk.”
Those idols include John, who Carlile released an entire duets album with earlier this year, Who Believes In Angels? Carlile recalls being 11 years old living in Washington state, where “there wasn’t an inch of my bedroom wall that didn’t have an Elton John poster on it,” citing her “profound” love for John and his music.
Then there’s Mitchell, who Carlile famously brought out for her first live performance in decades at the 2022 Newport Folk Festival before going on to organize a series star-studded “Joni Jam” concerts to reintroduce the world to one of the most influential musicians of the last century. Tanya Tucker is another decorated performer who Carlile re-centered the spotlight on after decades away, by producing her lauded 2019 album While I’m Livin’ and co-starring in her 2022 documentary The Return of Tanya Tucker.
The through-line between every collaboration with one of her “superheroes,” Carlile notes, is the presence of a cause for her to take up. “Tanya was not getting her flowers — she was getting a stigma that she certainly didn’t deserve. With Joni, she had her flowers, but she didn’t know it,” she says. “Even for smaller artists, like Brandy Clark, she wasn’t being seen for the genius she is in country music … there was always some cause, and then that cause has to intersect with musical undeniability. And in that case, you know, these people are an embarrassment of riches.”
But when beginning her work on Returning to Myself, Carlile wasn’t finding a cause. She had reached the proverbial mountaintop of her professional career, and was now left to try and find some new cliff face to ascend. She remembers one particularly hard songwriting session, where she, Watt and her band were sitting in an expensive studio space creating melodically fascinating passages, and she couldn’t find any words to put to them.
“I was just in there watching money fly out the window, because I just couldn’t make the songs happen,” she says, grabbing fistfuls of her coiffed blonde hair as she recalls the stressful day. “I kept going to this little office space at the back of the studio and basically hiding from everyone. It was so destabilizing.”
In that office, Carlile noticed a purple Rhodes piano — “I think it was just there as decoration,” she offers — and sat down at it. She pulled up a poem on her phone that she had written weeks prior about wisdom and age, started putting a simple melody to it, and within 15 minutes had constructed the emotionally complicated track “A Woman Oversees.”
Writing lyrics separately from the music composition proved to be uncharted territory for Carlile — throughout her two decade career, Carlile routinely wrote her music and lyrics in concert with one another. In establishing a new precedent for the album, the singer-songwriter found that she was starting to deconstruct her own ideas about how music gets made.
“If there’s anywhere that I’m on thin ice with my ego, it’s trying to work in musical complexity where it isn’t needed. But when you have the words first and you’re now suddenly in the studio, the music has to be natural. It can’t be overthought, it can’t be intentionally complex,” she says. “I did a lot less in terms of the musical math on this album than I ever have before. I was really open to two-chord soundscapes, and I have to say, I’m finding it really emotionally fulfilling.”
Carlile is just as quick to credit Watt and Dessner’s work with her on the album for its sonic cohesion, noting that while the two had never worked together before, their collaboration on this album helped make it what it was. “I kind of Parent Trap‘d them,” she jokes. “I’m kind of culty, to the point where I’m like, ‘No, I need everyone to love each other and know each other! Will you guys come together on every song and show up in the studio and please be friends? Will you guys be friends for me?’ And they f–king did, man. It was amazing.”
When talking about Returning to Myself, Carlile keeps coming back to one other album in particular: Wrecking Ball, the 1995 magnum opus from Americana star Emmylou Harris. The projects may differ in tone and genre, but Carlile instead points to Wrecking Ball‘s larger cultural footprint as her true inspiration.
“She was trying to own the narrative and have some agency over who people believed Emmylou Harris was. The way that she asserted her Emmylou Harris-ness was to do something so unexpected sonically that it challenged the psyches and the ears of Americana listeners,” Carlile recalls. “That’s the ethos that really resonated with me. It wasn’t like I took a swing for that level of genius or refinement. It was more like I wanted to feel the same way.”
One of the most unexpected sonic turns Carlile makes on her new album arrives with its sixth track, the surging rock anthem “Church & State.” Amidst an album of plaintive, introspective folk songs, “Church & State” roars with rebellion and electrifying anger, as Carlile rails against the political powers that have tried to decide the future for her and her community.
The song was written largely on the night of the 2024 election, when Donald Trump won a second term in office. Carlile recalls the rage she felt as she watched the results come in. “I just saw my marriage hanging in the balance. Everything that my kids depend on in terms of feeling, and living within the legitimacy of our family, and how we walk through the world together,” she said. “I was just so, so angry, and stressed out, and I’m in need of some catharsis.”
She remembered a riff that one of her oldest friends and collaborators Tim Hanseroth had sent to her months prior. The two had joked about a time when Billie Jean King had once told Carlile, “‘We Are the Champions’ is too f–king slow, somebody needs to write a sports anthem that’s actually up tempo,” and Hanseroth made good on that promise with a pounding bassline that became the heartbeat of the song. “Writing that song was like I was running a mile; it just was coming out of me,” Carlile says.
The lyrics that came pouring forth concerned the “frailty” of right-wing politicians, reminding them that when their day comes, this will be how they’re remembered. She puts it much more succinctly in our conversation: “Time waits for no one, and no one stays a strongman forever,” she says with a smirk.
As they began to put the track together in a studio, Carlile pitched an odd idea to Watt, Dessner and her band. What if, instead of a guitar solo on the bridge, she simply performed a spoken-word rendition of an 1802 letter written by then-President Thomas Jefferson to the Danbury Baptists Association? The choice may seem strange, but Carlile points to the famous missive for creating the oft-cited “wall of separation between church and state” that is fundamental to the functioning of American democracy.
“I think it might be the one of the most important pieces of text that has ever been introduced into the American political system. It is so timelessly wise, and it should offend no one — yet I know it will offend many,” Carlile says, before staring directly into her camera. “And if you’re offended by it, you are the problem. Period.”
Carlile knows there will even be some in her own fanbase who would prefer that she not speak out on political topics. But she says she cannot afford to stay quiet, especially when her existence is at-issue in the current administration. “We have no choice but to wake up and be political every day because we’re women and we’re gay and this is how we now have to live our lives in this country,” she says, exasperation punctuating each word. “There can be no ‘shut up and sing’ as an option for me, that’s just not possible.”
Even with its sonic left-turn, “Church & State” still finds itself fitting into the rest of Returning to Myself, as it finds Carlile re-examining and reaffirming her own relationship to religion and politics, the same way she re-examines her relationship to age on the emotionally bare “Human,” or reaffirms her marriage on the loving ballad “Anniversary.”
But there’s still the question of her “cause” for Returning to Myself — for an artist who has moved forward with a clear sense of purpose on each one of her projects, collaborations and performances, what principle guided Carlile through this latest phase of her career?
A pregnant pause forms as Carlile considers her answer. “I dropped out of school at 16, and I moved away from home at 17, I immediately had to work in order to survive. I had no skills and no driver’s license, and all I could do to make a living and pay for my rent was find places that would let me sing live,” she says, her brow furrowing as she thinks back to her earliest performing days. “As long as I can remember, I have had to make music my job.”
She smiles as she corrects herself. “There was a time, though, when I was a teenager and I could just sit on my bed and cry and just feel this magnetic draw into the magic of music. I hadn’t felt that feeling for a long, long time, and I could barely remember what it even was,” she says. “I needed to go back to that bedroom before the hustle and figure out what I loved about this. What can I unlearn about song structure? Can I become innocent about this again? So my next steps are going to be to find and stay in that innocence for as long as I possibly can.”
Warner Music Australia are currently in the midst of a purple patch in their home country, with Warner Music Group’s Down Under division recently clocking up a “historic” showing on the ARIA Singles chart.
The success in question relates to the two recent ARIA charts – dated Monday, June 9 and June 16 – which sees nine of the positions across the fortnight’s top fives held by WMA artists.
While Alex Warren’s “Ordinary” sits in the top spot on the June 9 chart, it’s joined by a double-header from sombr by way of “Undressed” and “Back to Friends,” with Ravyn Lenae’s “Love Me Not” and Tate McRae’s “Just Keep Watching” rounding out the top five.
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The tune is largely the same in the June 16 chart, with the only difference being the insertion of Sabrina Carpenter’s “Manchild” in the No. 2 spot. The remainder of both charts’ top ends are filled out by familiar contemporaries, including Benson Bone, Bruno Mars (both with Lady Gaga and Rosé), Teddy Swims, and perennial favorites Fleetwood Mac and the Goo Goo Dolls.
All told, the first week hosts a total of 11 WMA acts in the top 20, with that number dropping by just one for the following chart, resulting in a majority representation.
Reflecting on the success of the recent achievement, Dan Rosen, President of Records And Publishing, Australasia, Warner Music Group, explains that it’s a “phenomenal effort” to achieve these “historic levels of chart share.”
“These things are built up on years of hard work from teams around the world, in terms of artist development, A&R, and connecting with culture,” he explains. “We’ve been able to cement that here in Australia.
“Our mission is to make our global artists local, and local artists global,” he adds. “It has been amazing to see, in terms of making this next generation of great Warner acts feel part of our local culture and getting them on ground and building them up.”
Rosen – who was recently named as one of Billboard’s 2025 Global Power Players – also focused on some of the specific artists that fall under his purview, specifically looking at the success of Australian and New Zealand artists on the global stage.
“We’ve always known that Aussies and Kiwis are as good as anyone else in the world, and I think the global platforms now give us the opportunity to really showcase that,” he explains. “Building that next generation of Aussie and Kiwi acts on the global stage has been a big job and a heavy lift, but we’re really starting to see results.”
Among the successes that Rosen looks at fondly are the likes of Auckland alternative pop outfit Balu Brigada,who topped the Alternative Airplay chart with their debut single “So Cold,” with latest single “Backseat” also making impressive moves globally.
CYRIL also scores a mention from Rosen, with the Darwin DJ having seen plenty of success on the radio charts, while his recent track “There She Goes” has topped the TikTok charts.
“We’ve always had wonderful export artists and are really excited seeing this next generation come through in both the indie rock and dance genres, which we’ve traditionally been very strong in,” he adds.
Notably, the recent chart success from WMA also comes accompanied by some less-than-stellar news of the Australian industry as a whole, with the entirety of the Singles chart’s top 50 being devoid of any local acts.
The only Australian influence that can be found is within Doechii’s “Anxiety,” which prominently samples Gotye’s 2011 single “Somebody That I Used to Know.” The Albums chart is slightly more promising, with Jimmy Barnes’ Defiant album in the top spot for June 16, though the rest of the top 20 lacks any locals.
This lack of Australian artists isn’t new, however, with ARIA’s 2024 end-of-year charts comprising just 5% local content.
“It’s tough out there,” Rosen agrees, referencing a need for local acts to be visible in order to make an impact on the charts. “There’s no doubt we can’t shy away from that impact on the chart here, but I think these things are cyclical and I’m incredibly optimistic of this next generation of Aussie acts that will impact the charts, both here and overseas.
“It’s definitely a moment in time. We can’t pretend it’s not happening, but we need to set ourselves up for what success looks like in the future and to me, that’s very much around the acts that can impact globally.”
The recent chart successes from WMA can also be traced back to the importance of having artists performing in the local market – a necessity which Rosen labels as “fundamental.”
“Look at Benson Boone and Teddy Swims, we brought both artists out to market really, really early,” Rosen recalls. “Benson Boone played a small sold-out show at the Lansdowne [in Sydney]. Teddy Swims’ first great, Hot Hits was in New Zealand with ‘Lose Control,’ and New Zealand and Australia are still his top two markets anywhere in the world.
“I think the number one most important thing is to get artists to market,” he continues. “So you see how great they are, Aussie fans can fall in love with them and we can connect them with local culture. And that’s really our job here, to work with our partners.
“We’ve got incredible partnerships with Atlantic Records and Warner Records and we’ve worked with them from early days about ‘How do we help you break this artist in the market?’ We value those partnerships, we work incredibly hard with them, and we bring those artists as early as we can and start seeding them into the local culture and building their fanbase.”
In addition to his current role with WMA, Rosen took on new duties this year with publishing, with the recent good news of a strong showing in the charts undoubtedly leaving the entire team feeling content.
“I’m just the figurehead at the top and it’s a lot of hard work from the teams,” he explains. “I think we’ve got the most passionate and hardworking team across both records and publishing in the market and I feel very proud to lead them.
“We’re not going to rest on our laurels,” he adds. “Lots more to achieve, lots more to do, but I think you have to celebrate the wins. We all know how hard we work in this business, so it’s good to celebrate the wins, but we’re off to work out what comes next.”
Nearly a decade before contemporary Christian music (CCM) star Brandon Lake was headlining arenas, topping Billboard’s Christian Airplay charts and winning Grammy Awards, he was a young church worship leader in Charleston, S.C., who just wanted to record an album — and took an unorthodox route to making that happen.
“I did a GoFundMe campaign. I said, ‘If you pledge a certain amount, I’ll tattoo your name on my leg,’ ” explains Lake, 34, as he sits across from me onstage in the sanctuary of Seacoast Church, the Charleston megachurch where he began leading worship as a teenager. He taps his left leg: “So I have 22 last names of folks who donated tattooed on my thigh.”
In 2016, he released the result of that campaign, Closer — and since then, his songwriting skill; gritty, full-throttle vocals; and willingness to address sensitive topics like anxiety and mental health in his music have made him one of the biggest stars in the CCM world. He has released four more albums and dominated Billboard’s Christian music charts, landing 43 entries on Hot Christian Songs, including 2023’s 31-week No. 1 “Praise,” recorded with the collective Elevation Worship.
But though he remains deeply committed to the Christian market, Lake is also looking beyond it. He recently earned his first crossover hit, making his Billboard Hot 100 debut in November 2024 when the raw, soulful “Hard Fought Hallelujah” bowed at No. 51. In February, he teamed with country hit-maker and fellow ink aficionado Jelly Roll for a collaborative version of the song.
“I just wanted to share this with somebody who really gets this story, who’s lived it,” he says of recording the song about hardship-tested faith with Jelly Roll. “Now to see him carrying this song and how we carry it together and it’s impacting so many lives — that’s the goal.” He adds, “We’re in a perfect time for this kind of collaboration to happen… The truth is, all of us are just as messed up — it’s just some of us are good at hiding it and putting a mask on. Everyone’s on a journey.”
Brandon Lake photographed May 22, 2025 in Charleston, S.C.
Will Crooks
Lake’s Hot 100 debut comes as CCM is having a major moment on the all-genre chart. “Hard Fought Hallelujah” and Forrest Frank’s “Your Way’s Better” appeared simultaneously on the chart this year — the first time in more than a decade that two CCM songs were on the Hot 100 at the same time. The last time a non-holiday song recorded by a primarily CCM artist reached the Hot 100 was Lauren Daigle’s “You Say,” in 2019.
Those breakthroughs occurred amid an overall rise in consumption of CCM over the past 18 months. According to Luminate, in the first half of 2024, sales of track-equivalent albums, streaming-equivalent albums and on-demand audio for the genre grew 8.9%, with CCM ranking as the fourth-fastest-growing musical genre after pop, Latin and country. The music’s broadening sounds, as well as increased collaborations between CCM and secular artists over the past several years, have helped CCM songs become more heavily integrated into mainstream playlists: Spotify has noted that during the past five years, CCM experienced a 60% growth rate globally and a 50% growth rate in the United States on its platform, as artists previously confined to the genre started to penetrate mainstream spaces.
That strong upward trajectory owes in large part to a new generation of CCM artists such as Lake, Frank, Josiah Queen and Seph Schlueter. They relish crossing genre lines: Frank’s music, for instance, is more rooted in pop and hip-hop, while Lake’s songs anchor worship lyrics aimed at church congregations in a range of sounds including rock, blues and country. And they are also digital natives who have been intentional in harnessing the power of social media and streaming to widen the genre’s audience; a viral TikTok dance clip, for instance, gave Frank’s “Your Way’s Better” a major streaming boost.
Lake was among Luminate’s top five CCM artists in the first half of 2024, and his star has only risen since then. During his appearances at CMA Fest, held June 5-8, a social media clip of him and Jelly Roll performing “Hard Fought Hallelujah” earned over 1 million views, while a clip of the audience singing Lake’s hit “Gratitude” a cappella during a separate CMA Fest appearance earned more than 3 million views in just over 48 hours. The success of “Hard Fought Hallelujah,” in particular, has put Lake — and his faith-centered message — before broader and more mainstream audiences than he ever dreamed of: performing on American Idol, joining Jelly Roll onstage at Stagecoach in front of 75,000 fans, playing the Grand Ole Opry and CMA Fest.
From the start, collaboration has been key to Lake’s success. Closer was circulated in church and worship music circles, leading him to some of his first songwriting connections, like Tasha Cobbs Leonard, Nate Moore and Maverick City Music co-founder Tony Brown, with whom he co-wrote Cobbs Leonard’s Grammy-nominated 2019 song “This Is a Move.” Other early co-writes included team-ups with worship music collectives Maverick City Music, Bethel Music and Elevation Worship; all helped Lake expand his sound. Alongside more traditional-sounding worship anthems, his 2021 album, House of Miracles, included the soulful rock song “I Need a Ghost.”
Later that year, Elevation Worship’s “Graves Into Gardens,” co-written by and featuring Lake, topped the Christian Airplay chart and was certified platinum by the RIAA. “That’s when the floodgates opened,” he recalls. “I was getting calls from everywhere, asking me to do a concert or do collaborations — I can’t even remember how many collabs I’ve done, songs I’ve written with other people that were like, ‘Let’s just do it together.’ ” At the time, Lake notes, he didn’t even have a manager. (Since 2021, he has been with prominent CCM management company Breit Group.) “I literally kept all of my dates I said yes to in my Notes app,” Lake explains. “My manager now has that framed, I think, because of how much we’ve grown. I learned so much being around so many of my heroes.”
In 2023, Lake cemented his solo hit-maker status when “Gratitude” topped Hot Christian Songs for 28 weeks. Since, he has continued notching solo and collaborative hits, including “Fear Is Not My Future” with Maverick City Music and “Love of God” with Phil Wickham. (He’ll tour arenas and stadiums with the latter this summer.) And on June 13, he released his fifth studio album, King of Hearts, on Provident Entertainment.
Sonically, the album finds Lake deepening his exploration of diverse genres, including country (“Daddy’s DNA,” “Spare Change”), gospel (“I Know a Name,” with luminary CeCe Winans) and hard rock (“Sevens”), and features additional collaborations with writer-producer Hank Bentley and Christian rapper Hulvey, among others.
And amid the run-up to releasing King of Hearts, Lake launched another major project. In early 2025, CCM supergroup Sons of Sunday debuted, featuring Lake alongside Moore, Steven Furtick, Pat Barrett, Chris Brown and Leeland Mooring. The group has already notched four entries on Hot Christian Songs, and its self-titled debut album bowed at No. 3 on the Top Christian Albums chart upon its release in May.
“My favorite things I’ve ever created were created in community, so I think that’ll be a huge piece of my future,” Lake says. “I’ll roll with anybody who wants to go after the same things, who has the same values as me.”
Brandon Lake photographed May 22, 2025 at Seacoast Church in Mount Pleasant, S.C.
Will Crooks
As his star rises, he has stayed close to his South Carolina roots. Instead of moving to Nashville, the epicenter of the CCM industry, Lake lives with his wife, Brittany; their three sons; and a menagerie including cows, mini-donkeys and two dogs on a sprawling rural property just outside Charleston. Much of King of Hearts was recorded in a three-room Charleston studio owned by Lake’s longtime collaborator, producer-writer Micah Nichols. And even when he’s on the road, Lake makes a point of staying connected to his hometown: In 2022, he concluded the first leg of his first headlining tour with two sold-out shows at Seacoast Church; next May, he’ll wrap his 48-city King of Hearts tour at Charleston’s 12,000-seat Credit One Stadium.
But regardless of venue size or location, Lake’s goal remains the same. “When we go out on tour and it’s this huge production, huge lights and sound, I’m not doing anything other than just having church — just maybe a few more lights in cool moments,” he says with a chuckle. “It’s entertaining, but really, I want [concertgoers] to be able to say, ‘I went to the King of Hearts tour, and my life has forever changed.’ ”
What do you recall about your first time performing?
I’ve been a part of [Seacoast Church] since I was probably 13 or 14 years old. They encouraged me and gave me opportunity after opportunity to learn and fail and grow. This is where I learned how to write songs. Someone overheard me singing in a small group in someone’s living room and asked me to sing. I sang for the first time at church, and I remember feeling so vulnerable, which to this day I still do. It’s this love-hate relationship every time I step out on the platform, especially on tour — it’s like the weight of the night feels like it’s on my shoulders, but at the same time, I try to remember it’s not about me: People are coming to hear these songs and have a real experience with God.
Will Crooks
Early in your career, you started working with popular worship collective Bethel Music. What was it like making that transition from leading worship at your local church to being on a larger tour with a collective?
Going from local church to being on tour in front of thousands of people overnight was a dream come true and, in the same season, writing with all my heroes. Everybody that was on my bucket list of getting to write with them, it all happened in the span of a few weeks. What came quickly after that was a valley — I never expected what it would do when I came home and came off that high. That taught me a lot. I did a whole record around mental health [2022’s Help!]. I’d never experienced depression, anxiety, panic attacks ever in my life until I came home from all my dreams coming true, but my adrenaline was just totally shot. I just went into this super-dark place, and it wasn’t long, but it was long enough to be like, “I need some help.” I had to relearn to go to God first and most, to fix what was going on.
I’ve had to learn over the past few years how to tour and record and balance family and this career the healthy way. There’s a reason why I only tour on the weekends. [The King of Hearts tour comprises four-show runs that are booked for Thursdays through Sundays.] My wife and I discuss every opportunity I get to make sure that we’re on board as a family. I want to be 50 years old and still be able to tour. That’s why I have a health coach, a performance coach. I’m trying to get healthy in every aspect of my life.
Sonically, King of Hearts is the most varied album of your career. Why was that important to you?
Touching on different genres isn’t something I set out to do. I’ve been a sponge and soaked up the gold from people I’ve been surrounded by. Growing up, [I listened to] Christian music and James Taylor. I’d come home from school and turn on CMT [Country Music Television]. So I grew up around country [music] and discovered rock’n’roll later. I had a metal garage band for a little while and just loved all genres of music. I was trying to learn from all these different expressions of music … So now when I go write a song, I’m less focused on “What does this need to sound like?” and more on “What am I feeling right now?”
“Sevens” is the most rock-leaning song on the album. What was that writing/recording session like?
We went to a Royal Blood and Queens of the Stone Age concert down the street from this studio, and a few days later, I just wanted to write a big-riff rock tune. I picked up a guitar, started playing and [writer-producer] Micah [Nichols] and I started chasing it. The chorus that you hear is the demo vocal from the day we wrote it. I would say 70% of King of Hearts is filled with demo vocals.
How did Jelly Roll come to be on “Hard Fought Hallelujah”?
I released [the solo version of] this song, and then I felt like, “This is too special to not share this song with somebody.” Thinking about the lyrics, I was like, “Man, I think Jelly Roll would resonate with the story of this song.” I’ve been so inspired by his story, the things he’s overcome. I remember seeing him sing “Believe” with Brooks & Dunn [at the 2024 CMA Awards], and I just bawled my eyes out. It gave me all the faith to reach out. The craziest part of that is he had already heard the song on TikTok and loved it. We hopped on the phone, and we didn’t talk music for the first hour. We just instantly became like brothers and talked about life, parenting, touring, family. It was a real friendship off the bat. There’s a reason why he is on top of the world right now, and it’s not just because his songs are amazing — it’s because he’s amazing.
You have stayed close to your roots in Charleston. Have you been tempted to move to Nashville?
I love Nashville, but I like it being a home away from home. [Charleston] is where my roots are and being here with those that remember the 15-year-old Brandon, they know me the best. I want to make music that gives people faith and hope to keep going, and the people I’ve surrounded myself with, they get that the best. So it makes the most sense to stay here.
As your career has grown beyond CCM in terms of music listener recognition, has there been any kind of backlash or criticism from music listeners or the industry?
I think historically, any time something has shifted outside of what had been done previously, it can make people take pause and maybe be even a bit uncomfortable with it … or make it feel like it’s an either-or situation. And if you only are using Instagram as a metric, I can see why someone would maybe want to position it that way. But I don’t think of it that way … To me, this is a lifestyle and teachings that live through music, and however that is connecting and wherever that is connecting, I will always want it to be as much and as far as possible.
CCM is having a moment on the Billboard Hot 100, with “Hard Fought Hallelujah” and Forrest Frank’s “Your Way’s Better” charting simultaneously. Why do you think the genre is surging?
I think the reason why Christian music is probably more consumed now than years ago is because there’s a greater level of hunger for what’s real and what’s true. The fact that American Idol did a whole night around Easter, I think it just goes to show people are desperate for something that is going to lift their spirit. And I’ve got too many stories — I think what keeps me going, and I think what would keep a Forrest Frank going and what keeps a Josiah Queen writing these songs, is getting flooded with testimonies. People are hungry for authenticity. They’re not just looking for entertainment. They’re looking for an encounter with something that’s real. There’s nothing more real than God.
