State Champ Radio Grammy Preview 2024
“OK — now Ghostwriter is ready for us.”
For almost three hours, I have been driving an airport rental car to an undisclosed location — accompanied by an artist manager whose name I only know in confidence — outside the U.S. city we both just flew into. I came here because, after weeks of back-and-forth email negotiations, the manager has promised that I can meet his client, whom I’ve interviewed once off-camera over Zoom, in person. In good traffic, the town we’re headed toward is about an hour from the airport, but it’s Friday rush hour, so we watch as my Google Maps ETA gets later and later with each passing minute. To fill the time, we chat about TikTok trends, our respective careers and the future of artificial intelligence.
AI is, after all, the reason we’re in this car in the first place. The mysterious man I’ve come to meet is a “well-known” professional songwriter-producer, his manager says — at least when he’s using his real name. But under his pseudonym, Ghostwriter, he is best known for creating “Heart on My Sleeve,” a song that employed AI voice filters to imitate Drake and The Weeknd’s voices with shocking precision — and without their consent. When it was posted to TikTok in the spring, it became one of the biggest music stories of the year, as well as one of the most controversial.
At the time of its release, many listeners believed that Ghost’s use of AI to make the song meant that a computer also generated the beat, lyrics or melodies, but as Ghost later explains to me, “It is definitely my songwriting, my production and my voice.” Still, “Heart on My Sleeve” posed pressing ethical questions: For one, how could an artist maintain control over their vocal likeness in this new age of AI? But as Ghost and his manager see it, AI poses a new opportunity for artists to license their voices for additional income and marketing reach, as well as for songwriters like Ghost to share their skills, improve their pitches to artists and even earn extra income.
As we finally pull into the sleepy town where we’re already late to meet with Ghost, his manager asks if I can stall. “Ghost isn’t quite ready,” he says, which I assume means he’s not yet wearing the disguise he dons in all his TikTok videos: a white bedsheet and black sunglasses. (Both the manager and Ghost agreed to this meeting under condition of total anonymity.) As I weave the car through residential streets at random, passing a few front yards already adorned in Halloween decor, I laugh to myself — it feels like an apropos precursor to our meeting.
But fifteen minutes later, when we enter Ghost’s “friend’s house,” I find him sitting at the back of an open-concept living space, at a dining room table, dressed head to toe in black: black hoodie, black sweatpants, black ski mask, black gloves and ski goggles. Not an inch of skin is visible, apart from short glimpses of the peach-colored nape of his neck when he turns his head a certain way.
Though he appears a little nervous to be talking to a reporter for the first time, Ghost is friendly, standing up from his chair to give me a hug and to greet his manager. When I decide to address the elephant in the room — “I know this is weird for all of us” — everyone laughs, maybe a little too hard.
Over the course of our first virtual conversation and, now, this face-to-masked-face one, Ghost and his manager openly discuss their last six months for the first time, from their decision to release “Heart on My Sleeve” to more recent events. Just weeks ago, Ghost returned with a second single, “Whiplash,” posted to TikTok using the voices of 21 Savage and Travis Scott — and with the ambition to get his music on the Grammy Awards ballot.
In a Sept. 5 New York Times story, Recording Academy CEO Harvey Mason Jr. said “Heart on My Sleeve” was “absolutely [Grammy-]eligible because it was written by a human,” making it the first song employing AI voices to be permitted on the ballot. Three days later, however, he appeared to walk back his comments in a video posted to his personal social media, saying, “This version of ‘Heart on My Sleeve’ using the AI voice modeling that sounds like Drake and The Weeknd, it’s not eligible for Grammy consideration.”
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In conversation, Ghost and his manager maintain (and a Recording Academy representative later confirms) that “Heart on My Sleeve” will, in fact, be on the ballot because they quietly uploaded a new version of the song (without any AI voice filters) to streaming services on Sept. 8, just days before Grammy eligibility cutoff and the same day as Mason’s statement.
When the interview concludes, Ghost’s manager asks if we will stay for the takeout barbecue the owner of the house ordered for everyone before the manager and I arrived. At this, Ghost stands up, saying his outfit is too hot and that he ate earlier anyway — or maybe he just realizes that eating would require taking his ski mask off in front of me.
When did Ghostwriter first approach you with this idea, and what were your initial thoughts?
Manager: We first discussed this not long before the first song dropped. He had just started getting into AI. We wanted to do something that could spark much needed conversation and prep us so that we can start moving toward building an environment where this can exist in an ethical and equitable way. What better way to move culture forward around AI than to create some examples of how it can be used and show how the demand and interest is there?
As the person in charge of Ghostwriter’s business affairs, what hurdles did you see to executing his idea?
Manager: When anything new happens, people don’t know how to react. I see a lot of parallels between this moment and the advent of sampling. There was an outcry [about] thievery in 1989 when De La Soul was sued for an uncleared sample. Fast-forward to now, and artist estates are jumping at the opportunity to be sampled and interpolated in the next big hit. All it took was for the industry to define an equitable arrangement for all stakeholders in order for people to see the value in that new form of creativity. I think we agreed that we had an opportunity to show people the value in AI and music here.
Ghostwriter’s songs weren’t created with the consent of Drake, The Weeknd, Travis Scott or 21 Savage. How do you justify using artists’ voices without their consent?
Manager: I like to say that everything starts somewhere, like Spotify wouldn’t exist without Napster. Nothing is perfect in the beginning. That’s just the reality of things. Hopefully, people will see all the value that lies here.
How did you get in touch with the Recording Academy?
Manager: Harvey reached out to Ghostwriter over DM. He was just curious and interested. It’s his job to keep the industry moving forward and to understand what new things are happening. I think he’s still wrapping his head around it, but I thought it was really cool that he put together an industry roundtable with some of the brightest minds — including people in the Copyright Office, legal departments at labels, Spotify, Ghostwriter. We had an open conversation.
I don’t know if Harvey has the answers — and I don’t want to put words in his mouth — but I think he sees that this is a cool tool to help people create great music. [Ultimately,] we just have to figure out the business model so that all stakeholders feel like they have control and are being taken care of.
I think in the near future, we’re going to have infrastructure that allows artists to not only license their voice, but do so with permissions. Like, say I’m artist X. I want to license my voice out, but I want to take 50% of the revenue that’s generated. Plus users can’t use my voice for hate speech or politics. It is possible to create tech that can have permissions like that. I think that’s where we are headed.
“Heart on My Sleeve” is Grammy-eligible after all, but only the version without AI voice filters. Why was it so important to keep trying for Grammy eligibility?
Manager: Our thought process was, it’s a dope record, and it resonated with people. It was a human creator who created this piece of art that made the entire music industry stop and pay attention. We aren’t worried about whether we win or not — this is about planting the seed, the idea that this is a creative tool for songwriters.
Do you still think it pushes the envelope in the same way, given that what is eligible now doesn’t have any AI filter on it?
Manager: Absolutely, because we’re just trying to highlight the fact that this song was created by a human. AI voice filters were just a tool. We haven’t changed the moment around the song that it had. I think it’s still as impactful because all of this is part of the story, the vision we are casting.
Tell me a little about yourself, Ghostwriter. What’s your background?
Ghostwriter: I’ve always been a songwriter-producer. Over time, I started to realize — as I started to get into different rooms and connect with different artists — that the business of songwriting was off. Songwriters get paid close to nothing. It caused me to think: “What can I do as a songwriter who just loves creating to maybe create another revenue stream? How do I get my voice heard as a songwriter?” That was the seed that later grew into becoming Ghostwriter.
I’ve been thinking about it for two years, honestly. The idea at first was to create music that feels like other artists and release it as Ghostwriter. Then when the AI tech came out, things just clicked. I realized, “Wait — people wouldn’t have to guess who this song was meant to sound like anymore,” now that we have this.
I did write and produce “Heart on My Sleeve” thinking that maybe this would be the one where I tried AI to add in voice filters, but the overall idea for Ghostwriter has been a piece of me for some time.
Why did you decide to take “Heart on My Sleeve” from just a fun experiment to a formal rollout?
Ghost: Up until this point, all of the AI voice stuff was jokes. Like, what if SpongeBob [SquarePants] sang this? I think it was exciting for me to try using this as a tool for actual songwriters.
When “Heart on My Sleeve” went viral, it became one of the biggest news stories at the time. Did you anticipate that?
Ghost: There was a piece of me that knew it was really special, but you just can’t predict what happens. I tried to stay realistic. When working in music, you have to remind yourself that even though you think you wrote an incredible song, there’s still a good chance the song is not going to come out or it won’t do well.
Do you think that age played a factor in how people responded to this song?
Manager: For sure. I think the older generations are more purists; it’s a tougher pill for them to swallow. I think younger generations obviously have grown up in an environment where tech moves quickly. They are more open to change and progression. I would absolutely attribute the good response on TikTok to that.
Are you still writing for other people now under your real name while you work on the Ghostwriter project, or are you solely focused on Ghostwriter right now?
Ghost: I am, but I have been placing a large amount of focus [on] Ghostwriter. For me, it’s a place that is so refreshing. Like, I love seeing that an artist is looking for pitch records and I have to figure out how to fit their sound. It’s a beautiful challenge.
This is one of the reasons I’m so passionate about Ghostwriter. There are so many talented songwriters that are able to chameleon themselves in the studio to fit the artist they are writing for. Even their vocal delivery, their timbre, where the artist is in their life story. That skill is what I get to showcase with Ghostwriter.
You’ve said songwriters aren’t treated fairly in today’s music industry. Was there a moment when you had this revelation?
Ghost: It was more of a progression…
Manager: I think the fact that Ghost’s songs feel so much like the real thing and resonate so much with those fan bases, despite the artists not actually being involved, proves how important songwriters are to the success of artists’ projects. We’re in no way trying to diminish the hard work and deserving nature of the artists and the labels that support them. We’re just trying to shine a light on the value that songwriters bring and that their compensation currently doesn’t match that contribution. We owe it to songwriters to find solutions for the new reality. Maybe this is the solution.
Ghost: How many incredible songs are sitting on songwriters and producers’ desktops that will never be heard by the world? It almost hurts me to think about that. The Ghostwriter project — if people will hopefully support it — is about not throwing art in the trash. I think there’s a way for artists to help provide that beauty to the world without having to put in work themselves. They just have to license their voices.
The counterpoint to that, though, is that artists want to curate their discographies. They make a lot of songs, but they might toss some of them so that they can present a singular vision — and many would say songs using AI to replicate an artist’s voice would confuse that vision. What do you say to that?
Ghost: I think this may be a simple solution, but the songs could be labeled as clearly separate from the artist.
Manager: That’s something we have done since the beginning. We have always clearly labeled everything as AI.
Ideally, where should these AI songs live? Do they belong on traditional streaming services?
Manager: One way that this can play out is that [digital service providers] eventually create sort of an AI section where the artist who licenses their voice can determine how much of the AI songs they want monetarily and how they want their voices to be used.
Ghost: These songs are going to live somewhere because the fans want them. We’ve experienced that with Ghostwriter. The song is not available anymore by us, but I was just out in my area and heard someone playing “Heart on My Sleeve” in their car as they drove by. One way or another, we as the music industry need to come to terms with the fact that good music is always going to win. The consumer and the listener are always in the seat of power.
There’s 100,000 songs added to Spotify every day, and the scale of music creation is unprecedented. Does your vision of the future contribute to a scale problem?
Manager: We don’t really see it as a problem. Because no matter how many people are releasing music, you know, there’s only going to be so many people in the world that can write hit songs. The cream always rises to the top.
Ghost: My concern is that a lot of that cream-of-the-crop music is just sitting on someone’s desktop because an artist moved in a different direction or something beyond their control. My hope is we’ll see incredible new music become available and then we can watch as democracy pushes it to the top.
Can you explain how you think AI voice filters serve as a possible new revenue stream for artists?
Manager: Imagine singing a karaoke song in the artist’s voice; a personalized birthday message from your favorite artist; a hit record that is clearly labeled and categorized as AI. It’s also a marketing driver. I compare this to fan fiction — a fan-generated genre of music. Some might feel this creates competition or steals attention away from an artist’s own music, but I would disagree.
We shouldn’t forget that in the early days of YouTube, artists and labels fought to remove every piece of fan-generated content [that used] copyrighted material that they could. Now a decade or so later, almost every music marketing effort centers around encouraging [user-generated content]: TikTok trends, lyric videos, dance choreography, covers, etcetera. There’s inherent value in empowering fans to create content that uses your image and likeness. I think AI voice filters are another iteration of UGC.
Timbaland recently wrote a song and used an AI voice filter to map The Notorious B.I.G.’s voice on top of it, essentially bringing Biggie back from the dead. That raises more ethical questions. Do you think using the voice of someone who is dead requires different consideration?
Manager: It’s an interesting thought. Obviously, there’s a lot of value here for companies that purchase catalogs. I think this all ties back to fan fiction. I love The Doors, and I know there are people who, like me, study exactly how they wrote and performed their songs. I’d love to hear a song from them I haven’t heard before personally, as long as it’s labeled [as a fan-made AI song]. As a music fan, it would be fun for me to consume. It’s like if you watch a film franchise and the fourth film isn’t directed by the same person as before. It’s not the same, but I’m still interested.
When Ghostwriter introduced “Whiplash,” he noted that he’s down to collaborate with and send royalties to Travis Scott and 21 Savage. Have you gotten in touch with them, or Drake or The Weeknd, yet?
Manager: No, we have not been in contact with anyone.
“Heart on My Sleeve” was taken down immediately from streaming services. Are you going about the release of “Whiplash” differently?
Manager: We will not release a song on streaming platforms again without getting the artists on board. That last time was an experiment to prove the market was there, but we are not here to agitate or cause problems.
You’ve said that other artists have reached out to your team about working together and using their voices through AI. Have you started that collaboration process?
Manager: We’re still having conversations with artists we are excited about that have reached out, but they probably won’t create the sort of moment that we want to keep consistently with this project. There’s nothing I can confirm with you right now, but hopefully soon.
Why are you not interested in collaborating with who has reached out so far? Is it because of the artist’s audience size or their genre?
Manager: It’s more like every moment we have has to add a point and purpose. There hasn’t been anyone yet that feels like they could drive things forward in a meaningful way. I mean, size for sure, and relevancy. We ask ourselves: What does doing a song with that person or act say about the utility and the value of this technology?
Ghost: We’re just always concerned with the bigger picture. When “Whiplash” happened, we all felt like it was right. It was part of a statement I wanted to make about where we were headed. This project is about messaging.
After all this back-and-forth about the eligibility of “Heart on My Sleeve,” do you both feel you’re still in a good place with Harvey Mason Jr. and the Recording Academy?
Manager: For sure, we have nothing but love for Harvey … We have a lot of respect for him, the academy and, ultimately, a lot of respect for all the opinions and arguments out there being made about this. We hear them all and are thinking deeply about it.
Ghostwriter, you’ve opted to not reveal your identity in this interview, but does any part of you wish you could shout from the rooftops that you’re the one behind this project?
Ghost: Maybe it sounds cheesy, but this is a lot bigger than me and Ghostwriter. It’s the future of music. I want to push the needle forward, and if I get to play a significant part in that, then there’s nothing cooler than that to me. I think that’s enough for me.
A version of this story originally appeared in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.
As he watched from a suite while Karol G performed at New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium on Sept. 8, Ovy on the Drums was nostalgic and teary-eyed. Over 70,000 fans were chanting the Colombian reggaetón star’s biggest hits at the top of their lungs — the majority produced by him.
“I cried that day because there were no words,” he recalls, slouched on a couch in his Miami-area home a few days later. “One day, we are working with the hopes of making it big, that our music will go around the world, and life itself makes sure things happen. God himself has given us these blessings, and it’s because we have worked with love, with dedication, without stopping. We are dreamers and unstoppable.”
After accompanying Karol G on most of her shows during her Mañana Será Bonito summer stadium tour, Ovy (real name: Daniel Echavarría Oviedo) is finally back at his three-story corner house in Doral, Fla., where he resides with his personal manager, Alejandro Muñoz, and his aunt Gloria. He’s relaxed, wearing a neon-green Nigeria soccer jersey and black Nike shorts, and his signature spiky, blond dreadlocks are tamed. It’s a typically hot summer Florida day, but inside, the 32-year-old’s aunt is cooking lunch while he catches up on laundry and sips homemade hibiscus tea. “This is amazing for your health. I drink it every day to stay hydrated,” he says, offering a glass.
As Karol’s longtime producer, Ovy is behind her biggest hits, including “Tusa,” with Nicki Minaj; “Provenza”; “TQG,” with Shakira; “Mi Ex Tenía Razón”; and the Peso Pluma-assisted “QLONA” — which all hit No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot Latin Songs chart. But his road to success has not been, as he puts it, “llegué y pegué” (“I came, and I conquered”). In fact, Ovy says he never knew music would be his calling.
Fifteen years ago, Ovy, then 17, was working at a plaza in Medellín carrying bags of chicken and selling disposable party supplies when he realized he had to find a passion if he wanted to succeed in life. His first taste of music production came a few years later, in 2012, when a cousin’s friend offered to install the digital audio workstation FL Studio on his laptop and give Ovy a beat-making crash course.
“From that moment, my life changed. Look, I even have the [company’s] fruity logo tattooed,” he says, flaunting the mango-strawberry ink on his right forearm. “I didn’t know what a melody was, I didn’t know anything [about making music], but when he showed me that program, that was where I, Daniel Echavarría Oviedo, discovered a new planet.”
Devin Christopher
As he practiced each day and sold his first beats for only $5 each, Ovy made headway in the Colombian music scene, working with artists such as Landa Freak, Lorduy and DVX. He also connected with producers Ronald El Killa and La Compañía (the production group of Mr. Pomps, DJ Maff, Migueman and Gotex), whom he credits as the first people to give him an opportunity in the music industry. The latter, which produced Karol G’s 2013 Nicky Jam collaboration, “Amor de Dos,” ultimately connected Ovy with Karol.
“The first day we met, I overheard her talking to her father about needing a DJ for a presentation, and I respectfully offered myself,” he remembers. “At first, she didn’t take me seriously. But about a month later, my friends at La Compañía called me to share the news that Karol wanted me as her DJ.”
After a successful debut performance together at a local university, the duo embarked on a “school tour” across the country while also promoting themselves on local TV and radio. Along the way, Ovy decided to play Karol some of his beats, and they immediately began creating music. The first song they worked on together was “Ricos Besos,” a flirtatious reggaetón track released in summer 2014.
“She was happy because I was the only person who understood what she wanted to express with her sound,” he says. “I remember that we were on a balcony one day when I proposed that we become a team — just like The Rudeboyz with Maluma, Sky Rompiendo with J Balvin — and she told me, ‘Let’s do it!’ ”
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Since then, Ovy — whose style is characterized by minimalist urban-fusion beats backed by edgy keyboards, dramatic violins and hard-hitting drums — has produced a handful of Karol’s bangers, such as “Tusa,” which earned him his first No. 1 as a producer on the Hot Latin Songs chart, and the EDM-fueled “Cairo,” which marked his first Billboard Hot 100 entry.
His work on Karol’s studio albums Unstoppable (2017), Ocean (2019), KG0516 (2021) and the historic Mañana Será Bonito (2023) — the first all-Spanish-language album by a female artist to top the Billboard 200 — ultimately has kept him at No. 1 on the Latin Producers chart for 25 nonconsecutive weeks since February 2020, the third-longest reign atop that chart, following Tainy and MAG. He was less involved on Karol’s latest, Mañana Será Bonito (Bichota Season), released in August, but still produced three of its 10 songs: “S91,” “QLONA” and “Dispo.”
“I’m taking time for myself,” he says as Gloria serves warm picadillo (ground beef), rice, salad and noodle soup. “It hurts me because I want to be making new music with Karol like the old days. But it’s not a bad thing — it’s just that now I want to focus on my project.”
Inspired by the multihyphenate Dr. Dre, Ovy wears many hats: he produces; he composes; he develops artists under his record label, Big Ligas; and at one point, he even had a singing career — though after releasing music with Mike Bahía, TINI and Danny Ocean, he decided to quit because “Ovy on the Drums has respect as a producer, not as a singer.”
At the dining table, where Muñoz and Gloria join him, Ovy says that moving to Miami in 2020 was the best decision of his life, mainly because it allowed him to grow as a producer. “I got to a point where I asked myself, ‘What am I doing in Medellín?’ I felt like there was nothing more to do. Other than enjoying my country, my family and relaxing, I wasn’t being productive,” he explains. “Once I moved to Miami, I started creating and creating more, and establishing more relationships.”
Ovy on the Drums photographed on September 12, 2023 in Miami.
Devin Christopher
And while he’s best known for his work with Karol G, he has now worked with numerous other artists, including Enrique Iglesias, Zion y Lennox, Camilo, Ozuna, Prince Royce and Peso Pluma. When he hits the studio with those other acts, he prepares thoroughly, studying them, observing their musical styles and making sure to arrive with the best energy.
“He is a master of his craft,” says Leslie Ahrens, senior vp of creative, Latin America at Kobalt Music, where Ovy signed in December 2018. “He can create an entire song by himself — production, lyrics and melody — and 99% of the time, they are hits! Beyond that, when you meet him, you want to be his best friend and confidant. He also has a great sense of humor, and all that is a part of his magic.”
Now, as he shifts his focus to his personal musical projects, Ovy is also planning his next move: expanding to work with mainstream artists.
“I’ve had opportunities. Producers like London on Da Track who has worked with Drake have written to me, but nothing has happened yet because I feel that I need to learn to speak English first,” he says. “If I speak the language very well, I will get along with the mainstream producers and artists and even create a solid friendship like the one I have with artists in the Latin music world. I’m on it right now.”
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In the meantime, he’s preparing his debut album as artist-producer, titled Dr. Drums, which will include features from Karol G, Quevedo, Sech, Ryan Castro and Blessd.
As we finish lunch, he reminds me that his trajectory hasn’t been “llegué y pegué” but rather working hard for his dreams with the hope of one day inspiring others.
“Tomorrow, when I’m not in this industry or in this world anymore, people will simply remember me because I created different music from everything that has ever existed, and hopefully, they will be inspired by the music I made. That’s my goal,” he says with a smile. “Every day I wake up with that hope — with the purpose of leaving a legacy.”
This story will appear in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.
Last December, the Recording Academy convened a listening session of artists, label executives and stakeholders both in the United States and across Africa to discuss the rising influence of music coming from the continent. The meeting, which lasted several hours, was a key part of the process that led to the addition of a category that will be presented for the first time at the 66th Grammy Awards on Feb. 4: best African music performance.
“There’s a threshold that you like to see for a genre of music before it actually could make for a healthy category,” says academy CEO Harvey Mason Jr., who led the meeting alongside global music genre manager Shawn Thwaites. “When you talk about music coming from Africa, you’re seeing Afrobeats grow, you’re seeing amapiano and other genres coming out of the continent over the last three to five years. That started the discussions around, ‘Is it the right time?’ ”
The new category reflects the exploding commercial and cultural appeal of music by African artists in the United States. Its growth over the past few years has been almost linear: Davido’s 2017 single “Fall” was the first Nigerian song to be certified gold in the United States by the RIAA in 2020; Wizkid and Tems’ “Essence” became the first Afropop song to reach the top 10 of the Billboard Hot 100 in 2021; Burna Boy’s Love, Damini debuted at No. 14 on the Billboard 200 in 2022, becoming the highest-charting Afro-fusion album in chart history; and in May, Rema and Selena Gomez’s “Calm Down” became the first song to ever top both the U.S. Afrobeats Songs and Pop Airplay charts and peaked at No. 3 on the Hot 100. (“Calm Down” was released too early to be eligible.)
“I don’t think currently there’s better or more advanced music being made anywhere outside the continent,” says Seni Saraki, CEO and editor in chief of The NATIVE Networks, the Lagos, Nigeria-based media and content company that launched a joint venture with Def Jam in September 2022. “From what we call Afrobeats — which is, really, just popular music from Nigeria — through amapiano, the rap music, Afropop, I genuinely think this is some of the most exciting music in the world right now. And the academy is becoming cognizant of that.”
The new category is also an attempt to address some of the controversy that has arisen around the global music album award, renamed from best world music album in 2020 due to “connotations of colonialism,” but still seen as little more than a catchall for non-Western music. As the music industry has itself become more global, the academy recognized that the time had come to offer a home for music from the African continent. But it also goes beyond the popularity of Afrobeats, which itself is more of an umbrella term: The academy listed some 30 different genres that could qualify for the category, including alté, fuji and high life.
“People know about Afrobeats and they’re learning about amapiano, but they don’t realize there are so many other genres on the continent that are underserved, and they can’t just be put in a bulk category called ‘world music,’ ” says Tina Davis, president of EMPIRE, which has invested heavily in African music and artists. “And much respect to the Recording Academy because they actually took the time to want to find out. [Mason] went to the continent to just learn more about it.”
The industry has also taken notice. In the past few years, an explosion of new signings, joint ventures and licensing deals for African artists and labels from U.S.-based companies and distributors has brought a new generation of stars like Rema, Asake and Ayra Starr to join the continent’s established hit-makers. “There was a time a few years ago when I was at RCA and it seemed like we were the only ones on it,” says Def Jam chairman/CEO Tunji Balogun, who signed Tems and worked closely with Wizkid and Davido while an A&R executive at RCA and has since signed Adekunle Gold and Stonebwoy to Def Jam. “Now every week, there’s another label signing someone. The budgets are open.”
“I think you see more labels paying attention to it, you see the marketplace paying more attention to it; there’s a spotlight on it,” RCA co-president John Fleckenstein says. “The Grammys are the big leagues of awards, one of those artistic validations that many artists dream about. It’s a bit of an awakening that we are more global than we’ve ever been.”
There is, however, a little reticence around the new category; in the past, artists from genres like hip-hop, R&B and some of the Latin sectors have looked at the genre categories as boxes that merely nod to their music while gatekeeping them from the more prestigious general-field categories like song, record or album of the year. Further, a category called best African music performance, while welcome, is itself incredibly broad, covering a continent with 54 countries and 1.4 billion people.
“It’s a really important moment for the Grammys,” says Temi Adeniji, managing director of Warner Music Africa and senior vp of strategy for Sub-Saharan Africa. “But then the next step is, how do you actually roll this thing out? Even regionally — East Africa, Southern Africa, West Africa — it would be great to see a diversity of nominees, and that would reflect a real understanding from the Grammys of how large the continent is and how diverse the sounds are that are coming out.”
Talks of additional categories around African music, as well as a possible African Grammys, could be part of a future that Mason says this category is just the start of. “We want to serve music people, regardless of where they are,” he says. “I don’t know what that means yet, but we will continue to try and make sure that we are reaching as many music people regardless of their geography.”
The Potential Nominees?
Five songs that are in strong contention for a nod for the inaugural best African music performance Grammy.
Wizkid feat. Ayra Starr, “2 Sugar” (Starboy/RCA)
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Following the crossover success of his “Essence” (featuring Tems) was this breakout hit from the Nigerian superstar’s More Love, Less Ego album, featuring a powerful vocal from Starr, who is herself blossoming into a major force in African music.
Libianca, “People” (5K/RCA)
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With an arresting, emotional vocal performance, the 22-year-old Cameroonian American singer — who previously appeared on season 21 of The Voice — has captivated fans and the industry alike. “People” spawned remixes by artists such as Ayra Starr, Omah Lay and Becky G on the way to a long-running No. 2 peak on the U.S. Afrobeats Songs chart.
Davido feat. Musa Keys, “Unavailable” (Davido Music Worldwide/RCA)
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The lead single from one of the year’s best albums in any genre, “Unavailable” showcases Davido at his irresistible best, combining Magicsticks’ amapiano production with a slick verse from South Africa’s Musa Keys to craft one of 2023’s more enduring anthems.
Adekunle Gold feat. Zinoleesky, “Party No Dey Stop” (Def Jam)
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Insistent, urgent and eminently catchy, Gold’s debut Def Jam single blends the street melodies of fellow Nigerian Zinoleesky with his own knack for songwriting for a club banger with substance. It’s aspirational yet relatable, much like the album on which it appears.
Asake feat. Olamide, “Amapiano” (YBNL/EMPIRE)
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Asake’s meteoric rise over the past few years led to a headlining slot at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center in September. This track, alongside label boss and Nigerian music legend Olamide, is among his best, celebrating his trademark amapiano vibe and orchestral backing vocals, yet elevating both artists.
This story will appear in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.
As R&B superstar SZA has continued to ascend to the highest levels of popular music’s stratosphere over the past year — No. 1 hits, festival headlining slots, A-list collaborations, raves from critics and peers — her résumé still lacks a key item: major Grammy success. While SZA has been nominated for 15 Grammys — an impressive number, considering that as of the most recent ceremony, she still only had one full-length album to her name — she has just one win: in the best pop/duo group performance category, for her guest turn on Doja Cat’s crossover smash, “Kiss Me More.”
That seems likely to change at the 2024 Grammys, following the December 2022 release of her SOS, one of the most universally lauded albums of the past year. Not only did it draw near-unanimous praise, it also brought SZA to a new level of commercial dominance: SOS topped the Billboard 200 for 10 nonconsecutive weeks, with all 23 of its tracks hitting the Billboard Hot 100 — including breakout single “Kill Bill,” which became her first No. 1 on the chart. “There’s nobody close,” says artist development specialist and academy member Chris Anokute when gauging SZA’s 2024 Grammy credentials. “The girl has paid her dues. She has been releasing music for seven years. And she has made a multigenre, multiformatted album — the best multigenre, multiformatted record I’ve heard in years. And it deserves to be the album of the year.”
Indeed, the feeling among insiders that Billboard spoke with for this article is that SZA’s career has hit all the right beats for a Grammy artist since she signed with Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) a decade ago — and that it’s time for the Recording Academy to properly recognize her. “The Grammys are supposed to reward artists who show development and growth; artists who were once opening up and then get to arena level,” one music industry veteran says. “The Grammys really should want to be behind the trajectory of an artist like that.”
A source on SZA’s team confirms that the label will run a traditional campaign for her and points to increased visibility from the second leg of her North America tour (which includes two late-October stops in Los Angeles), as well as a deluxe reissue of SOS — recently confirmed by SZA herself as being titled Lana, featuring “seven to 10 [new] songs” and coming sometime this fall. The team has also sent out SOS boxes to “partners at press, radio” and digital service providers that include the album on vinyl and CD, as well as a compass, ring, metal straw and cleaning brush.
“Such packages have become very effective through the years because that’s what helps make projects stand out,” says a veteran marketing strategist of the box set promotional strategy. “It’s about what’s going to remind people that this record is a contender.”
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While the album (and its accompanying singles, “Kill Bill” and the more recent top 10 hit “Snooze”) likely will be in the running, it’s working against the tide of recent history. R&B has had some success in the past decade within the all-genre Big Four categories, but the genre’s most successful artists in the general field have tended to be those who embraced more of a classic, retro-vibing R&B mold: Bruno Mars and Silk Sonic, H.E.R., Jon Batiste. Artists like SZA — whose R&B is largely rooted in hip-hop sonics (and who came up as the lone R&B artist on the rap-focused TDE) — have, like rap itself, struggled to gain that kind of Grammy recognition.
Anokute doesn’t necessarily see that lack of recent precedent as an issue for SZA’s chances, instead calling back two decades to a pair of artists whose blend of classic and modern soul sounds made them pop insiders and Grammy darlings. “To me, you could compare this SZA moment to Lauryn Hill’s and Alicia Keys’ big Grammy moments [in 1999 and 2002, respectively],” he says. “She has crossed boundaries, she has crossed race with this album. At the end of the day, popular is popular, right? … You can’t call pop music [only] music that is on top 40 radio. Pop music is the most popular genre. And at the end of the day, Black music is the most popular music in the world.”
No matter how popular her music is currently, SZA will still have her work cut out for her contending at next year’s Grammys, likely against some of the other biggest artists in the world right now — including Olivia Rodrigo, Morgan Wallen and of, course, three-time album of the year winner Taylor Swift. However, Anokute points out that no one, not even the galactically popular Swift, can boast the cross-demographic appeal that SZA now has: “In terms of the most popular record between all genres of people, SZA beats Taylor Swift. I don’t know anybody listening to Taylor Swift outside of mostly, you know, white people… But I know a lot of white people, a lot of Black people, a lot of Spanish people that are listening to SZA and are huge fans. I’m not saying that Taylor only appeals to white people or Caucasian people, but the majority of her fan base is not Black or brown. SZA’s is, but she also crossed over.”
And whether the Grammys ultimately reward SZA’s latest, one music industry veteran says that it is in the Recording Academy’s best interest to look forward with R&B as much as backward. “We appreciate [the recognition for] the Bruno Marses and the H.E.R.s — they’re a safe balance,” the veteran says. “I think the academy knows that to be a part of the future, they have to embrace the future… Can we prove the Rolling Stone guy [Jann Wenner] wrong? That’s what we should focus on.”
This story will appear in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.
“I don’t go on TikTok,” says PinkPantheress when asked whom she pegs as future TikTok stars. It’s surprising, to say the least. Few musicians have utilized the platform as expertly as she has over the past three years. What started out as a bet with a friend to prove she could crack its algorithm — “I told her I could make a viral video if I wanted to. And then I did,” she remembers — wound up launching what has turned out to be a fruitful career IRL.
“Once I figured out the algorithm, I was like, ‘Well, surely this would be able to blow up the music, too,’ ” she says. The 22-year-old English musician (who goes by various pseudonyms in lieu of her real name) is sitting in a midsize meeting room at the 1 Hotel in Brooklyn’s DUMBO neighborhood, where the décor — black leather, bare metal and treated wood everywhere — is working hard to make nature feel modern, but she looks effortlessly cool in baggy denim and a comfortable tank top. She’s polite and cordial, even though it’s clear she would rather be doing anything but an interview. “I was like, ‘Well, I might as well just try and see what happens. And even if I don’t get anyone listening to it, at least it’s out there and not just stuck on my laptop.’ ”
The songs that were hiding out on her laptop quickly found an audience. Her brand of drum’n’bass-meets-’90s pop/R&B tapped right into the heart of the zeitgeist, resonating with a generation of kids who don’t know life before the internet, smartphones and social networks but are downright tickled by the idea of a more analog lifestyle.
“When I posted my first song, people were commenting saying it was really good. And I saw people using the sound — like 200 uses in a day or something,” PinkPantheress says. “At that point I was like, ‘Wow, this is crazy.’ Imagine you have a song that you didn’t think anyone was going to listen to, to suddenly way more people than you expected listening to it.”
Lia Clay Miller
Uploaded three years ago on Christmas Day, the song was the Michael Jackson-sampling “Just a Waste,” and it showcased what has become her trademark style: throwing a disco ball drenched in despair into a blender to create something deceptively fun. But while PinkPantheress loves sampling, she’s weary of relying on its easy pleasures. “I always like to think that I’m adding something to [the sample], which is, like, relevant enough that suddenly it’s a new song. I just think too many songs these days are just an interpolation,” she says.
With hordes of new fans clamoring for more, PinkPantheress uploaded “Pain” in January 2021, a song that would have fit in perfectly with the Euro alt-pop invasion of the late 1990s. At only a minute and 39 seconds long, it’s really more of a ditty than a song — but manages to perfectly convey forlorn teenage love.
“Just a Waste” and “Pain” showcased a young, gifted songwriter, one who could succinctly capture and clearly telegraph universal feelings to make listeners feel as if she might be reading their DMs. Early on, unrequited love dominated her music. The feeling of “having someone that you’ve always wanted to see romantically but you’ve never managed to be able to and stuff like that,” she says. Now that she’s getting more famous, though, her music may soon have a more optimistic glint. “I guess the more I create music, the less I want to be stuck in that world.”
Born in Bath, England, to a Black Kenyan mother and a white British father, PinkPantheress was raised in Kent with her older brother. She took to music at an early age, learning to play piano and forming a rock band with a few friends while in grammar school. She spent most of her free time watching music videos and interviews on YouTube. By the time she got to college, she started making electronic music and experimenting with musical software to create her own productions.
To try out her songs, she wrote and produced for her friend MaZz. “I think, objectively, the songs were good songs,” PinkPantheress says. “She was kind of the [voice] and face for my writing.” But, like many talented songwriters, PinkPantheress soon “wanted more control over how I sounded.” She registered for SoundCloud under the name of her favorite Steve Martin movie and began uploading songs.
Lia Clay Miller
Nothing caught on — but when she took to TikTok in December 2020, seemingly overnight, she became an indie pop darling. “Pain” broke onto the U.K. Singles chart in August 2021 and peaked at No. 35. Later that year, she signed a deal with Parlophone and Elektra Records and released her first mixtape, To Hell With It. As booking offers came in for PinkPantheress — who had yet to perform live — her management at Upclose took things slowly, opting for smaller shows that allowed her to build an audience rather than going for festival stages.
“I remember my first few shows after my mixtape was out at the end of 2021 and [my management] were making me do rooms of like 100 people and 150 people,” she recalls. “The biggest room I did was probably 800. I remember thinking, ‘Why are these rooms so small?’ ”
“It has been superintentional,” says Jesse Gassongo-Alexander, PinkPantheress’ co-manager, when asked about helping her build a fan base after finding so much success online. “It was always a case of putting in the hard work and taking the slower route to build a foundation that is solid that’s going to allow her to stay here for a while.”
Her story resembles that of another young female artist who managed to parlay massive online success into real-world results: rapper Ice Spice. On paper, PinkPantheress and Ice Spice may seem like photo negatives of each other — one’s a brash rapper from the Bronx who has no problem putting herself in the spotlight; the other’s an introverted singer who prefers the solitary pursuit of songwriting to industry glad-handing — but to PinkPantheress, they’re more alike than different. So much so that she offered Ice a spot on the remix to her hit song, “Boy’s a liar Pt. 2,” earlier this year.
“I feel like I don’t have that many peers that exist in a similar space to me,” she says. “I’m not talking about levels. I’m talking about internet space. I think a lot of people see me as being this, like, internet cutesy teen-pop girl. I feel like she was one of the newcomers whom I got drawn to because, even though she does drill and rap, it still feels like she’s in the same cutesy world to me. And she’s Black too, and that was a big important part of it to me. I prefer to collaborate with other Black artists.”
Lia Clay Miller
The song became an instant hit, her biggest so far, debuting at No. 14 on the Billboard Hot 100 after going viral on TikTok. For many in the United States, “Boy’s a liar Pt. 2” was the first time they had heard PinkPantheress. It got her her first BET Award nominations (best collaboration, BET Her Award), landed her an MTV Video Music Awards nod (best new artist) and ultimately peaked at No. 3.
Many believe she’s a lock for her first Grammy nomination thanks to the song — if she had to guess, probably for best pop duo/group performance. She’s taken aback and amused when told about the drama that has surrounded the Grammy Awards’ classification of certain albums by Black artists — even more so when she learns how disappointed Justin Bieber was when his album Changes got the nod for best pop vocal album instead of best R&B album.
But even without a Grammy nomination, she can count this year as an unequivocal success. In addition to her biggest single yet, she appeared on Barbie: The Album — as good an “I’ve arrived” moment as any. But still, even as her career explodes, it’s surprising to hear that TikTok has taken a back seat.
“I didn’t leave it behind. I still post on it,” she says reassuringly. “I love using it to post my own videos, but I do not watch videos on there. Because like a year ago, I would scroll and I’d see too many TikToks about me. I was like, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ ”
Makes sense. Her management team trusts her to make the best decisions for herself. “I think she has shown how globally intelligent she is by being one of the earlier trendsetters,” Gassongo-Alexander says. “Coming from TikTok and appealing to a wider audience and then knowing how to retain that wider audience.”
How does PinkPantheress plan to keep growing that audience? By keeping on keeping on, it seems. She’s uninterested in sacrificing her core audience at the altar of pop stardom. Thankfully, her music is naturally easy on pop fan ears. “What I’ve realized is that my natural way of writing is more pop-friendly than anything,” she says. “So even though the beats can be kind of alternative, I still write in a very standard structure. And I make sure all the lyrics are tangible. And because of that, I think that it has made the [music] that I’m doing very accessible to mainstream audiences. But my biggest fear is having people hear me do a [song] and recognize that I’m doing it for the wrong reasons.”
This story will appear in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.
The first time Gracie Abrams met Aaron Dessner, at his famed Long Pond studio near Hudson, N.Y., the pair wrote over 10 songs. “We hit it off,” recalls Dessner, 47, of their first session in spring 2021. That’s a bit of an understatement, considering what followed: Dessner went on to produce and co-write Abrams’ acclaimed debut album, Good Riddance, released in February and brimming with honest reflections sung in her delicate voice that float over intriguing chord progressions and indie-rock riffs. In June, following the album’s vinyl release, Abrams topped Billboard’s Emerging Artists chart.
In early September, following appearances by both on Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour (Abrams as an opener, Dessner as a guest), the duo played three sold-out, intimate acoustic shows in New York, Nashville and Los Angeles, where they performed songs of Abrams’ both old and new. The gigs bookended a recording pit stop at Long Pond. “We made a lot of music, and it feels really different than what we’ve done before… like the best stuff we’ve made,” Dessner reveals.
Abrams, 24, is one of the newest artists to become a Long Pond regular, joining an eye-popping group of talent that includes Swift, Ed Sheeran and, of course, Dessner’s band, The National — all of whom have been incredibly active in recent years, continuing Dessner’s streak as one of the most in-demand, and busiest, collaborators in music today. As such, and with Abrams a likely best new artist contender, could Dessner finally score a long-awaited nod for producer of the year, non-classical?
“I don’t know another person that could do what Aaron does,” Abrams says. “There’s a kind of sensitivity that doesn’t necessarily exist in most artist-to-producer relationships that I am aware of.”
What was it about Long Pond that felt immediately inspiring or comfortable?
Gracie Abrams: Everything. I felt really open as a result of the space feeling open, and it’s entirely a testament to Aaron’s entire personality. The place feels very inviting [for] sharing all your secrets and deepest, most private feelings without any hesitation.
When Gracie’s debut arrived, Aaron wrote on Instagram that it almost feels like you two are siblings. What’s the best example of that?
Abrams: I mean, maybe brutal truth all the time. I tell Aaron everything as soon as it happens to me, so I burden him with my life story in a way that I feel like only people who you’re related to by blood should have to take on.
Aaron Dessner: And I get to live vicariously through Gracie, which is really nice. (Laughs.) When you write songs and make music with someone — and when you make so much music as we have — it’s an intimate, vulnerable experience, so you get to know each other really well. And it’s also the thing that makes music most meaningful, I think, the friendships that you collect along the way. Because when I look back — I’m quite a bit older than Gracie, although we don’t feel so far apart — there are these friendships that I still have from different points along the way, and those are the mile markers. Because [as a musician] you don’t have a very normal life and you’re traveling all the time and kind of running on fumes and it’s so amazing but it’s also hazardous, being unstructured and not having your support system or your family close by a lot of the time. The only way I know how to do this is to grow close to people and learn from them. I always feel like I’m learning as much as anyone might learn from me.
What is the biggest lesson you have learned from each other?
Abrams: My identity now has been massively shaped by what I’ve learned in this relationship with Aaron the past couple years, not just musically — which it has entirely helped guide me in terms of self-trust — but just how to be a very decent person. Especially in the context of the music industry. I grew up in L.A. and started recording here first and it felt very different than when I went to Long Pond for the first time, and it really broadened my imagination for the kind of life that I could have if I’m lucky enough to do the thing that I love, versus what I assumed to be the blueprint that always secretly made me feel a little depressed.
Dessner: To be honest, I’ve never written songs in the room with anyone [before]. I would always make music alone or with my brother [Bryce]. Most of the time, I write the music first and then someone writes to it. That has been how The National worked and how I worked with [Swift] and other people. And Gracie came and we wrote together in the room, and it’s a scary thing because you don’t have the chance to be figuring out your brilliant idea. And I found I was even more comfortable doing it like that, where I would basically sketch [an idea] and Gracie could guide me or bounce off it in real time and write words and melodies. And then over time we got really good at it, and that’s what I ended up doing a lot with Ed Sheeran. I don’t know that I would have been able to do it had I not had that confidence from this.
Gracie Abrams photographed on September 1, 2023 at Long Pond Studio near Hudson, NY.
Wesley Mann
Aaron Dessner photographed on September 1, 2023 at Long Pond Studio near Hudson, NY.
Wesley Mann
Aaron, why do you think Gracie could be in the running for best new artist?
Dessner: Gracie is making incredibly compelling, emotionally direct songs that really resonate with her fan base. [She has] become an artist that’s clearly impacting a lot of people. And I think the record is one of the best of the year, and she’s one of the artists that should be in that discussion. I also think with all of this stuff, it’s subjective. It’s a total honor to be in any conversation about the Grammys and to win a Grammy, and of course it sounds like I have to say that, but a lot of my favorite artists have never been in that conversation. So I kind of take it with a grain of salt. I have a lot of respect for it, but at the same time if you don’t get nominated… it doesn’t diminish what you’re doing.
And Gracie, why should Aaron get a producer of the year nod?
Abrams: I don’t know another person that could do what Aaron does could make album of the year after album of the year. I can identify instantly whether or not Aaron has touched a song because you can feel it, and I can’t compare that to anything. It’s not something that I’ve found anywhere else. And I think also it’s so evident, like the songs that people fall in love with on all the albums that Aaron has made are the ones that really work. The ones that the die-hard fans want to hear and scream at the top of their lungs.
How do these sets you’ve been performing together compare to the stadium shows you both played as part of Swift’s Eras Tour?
Dessner: As much as I am close friends with and know Taylor well, you can’t believe that she pulls it off. It’s like, the best thing that has ever happened to live music in a way. And seeing Gracie play those shows [as an opening act] and seeing people in the stadium singing the songs, it’s a crazy moment in her career. It reminded me of, in a way, in 2007-8, R.E.M., on their final tour, invited The National to open for them, and that was this real moment for us because one of our favorite bands, a giant American rock band, was saying, “Come, we love you.” This is on a much bigger scale than that was, but it feels related, it feels like that really fueled us, and I can feel that in Gracie now, like there’s this confidence, and it’s exciting.
Abrams: There’s something about the scale of what Taylor has done that is unlike anything I’ve ever felt or known in my entire life, and I agree that it is the best thing that has ever happened to live music. Just to be in a place where that many people are equally moved and emotional and down to express it as loudly as possible, it’s really unbelievable. That feeling, though — being in a stadium, at least a Taylor Swift stadium, and these intimate rooms — is very connected, which sounds wild maybe. One of the many millions of things I learned this summer is, she does actually make it feel like you’re on another planet and like it’s just you and her in the room. And I’ve been lucky enough to see the show so many times and I’ve watched it from every possible place in the stadium, and that’s true every time.
From left: Gracie Abrams and Aaron Dessner photographed by Wesley Mann on September 1, 2023 at Long Pond Studio near Hudson, NY.
Wesley Mann
From left: Aaron Dessner and Gracie Abrams photographed by Wesley Mann on September 1, 2023 at Long Pond Studio near Hudson, NY.
Aaron, have you and Taylor’s longtime collaborator Jack Antonoff ever joked that you two could be competing for producer of the year for the foreseeable future?
Dessner: He has produced so many records and been in that really intensely for a long time, whereas I’ve been really doing all my esoteric art music with my brother and making music with The National and touring a lot. But I feel like there’s a lot of camaraderie between Jack and I, having worked on a lot of the same records now, and I think anyone that gets nominated is lucky. Some people have more notoriety for whatever reason, and I think part of the thing is like, how much do people know what you do? So, the answer is, I think we’ll think it’s funny.
For an artist or producer who wants to build what you two have, what advice would you give?
Abrams: I hope I’ve gotten less annoying about it, but [Aaron] very much encouraged following your gut, which is maybe cliché advice or feels empty, but I think I was so lucky to have had the person saying that to my face be someone whose work I have admired forever and someone who I trust. But having not heard that or believed it, a lot of the music wouldn’t exist, or I would be in a very different place in general right now.
Dessner: There are a lot of producers who franchise themselves and collect as many artists as they can, and you can see that, and I feel like the work becomes diminished or something. You also have to live and experience things. I like the way community slowly grows… I feel like people find each other for a reason.
This story will appear in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.
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