Music

“We gotta go honor the unofficial fifth member of the Clark Sisters!” Durand Bernarr quips over Zoom between rehearsals for “Keeping the Faith,” a Feb. 28 Town Hall-presented concert honoring the career of R&B icon Faith Evans. 
Featuring fellow renowned vocalists like Kierra Sheard-Kelly and Avery Wilson, the concert was a heartwarming showcase of community. Every tribute exuded the kind of mutual appreciation and platonic love that colors Bloom, Bernarr’s third studio album. Serving as his first full-length release since picking up a career first Grammy nomination last month (best progressive R&B album for En Route), Bloom —which arrived on Feb. 18 — is a towering achievement. The 15-track, hour-long set is a kaleidoscopic look at the sanctity of friendship told through a fearless amalgam of genres ranging from rock and funk to gospel and dance. 

With a foundation comprised of his experiences as a 16-year-old production assistant for Earth, Wind & Fire and attending church, where his mother served as music director, Bernarr has spent the better part of his life figuring out his sound – as well as his preferred writing and recording process. In crafting Bloom — also known as his “love-themed album” — he wanted to try something different, so he brought in more writers than have ever been involved in a Durand Bernarr LP. 

Trending on Billboard

The result? An album that consciously expands the scope of Bernarr’s already wide-ranging sound. He ratchets up his rock proclivities with standout cut “Completed,” draws on ‘00s R&B melodies with the T-Pain-assisted “That!” and recruits R&B duo GAWD for a floor-quaking take on ‘90s house (“Flounce”). 

“[The new process] helped pinpoint certain chemistries that, when they’re in the same room, magic will absolutely be created,” he reflects. “This is the most other brains and hands have been involved in my music.” 

In a bubbly conversation with Billboard, Durand Bernarr unpacks the making of Bloom, the enduring influence of ‘90s drama Waiting to Exhale and why he’s dedicated to making songs longer than five minutes.

Talk to me a little bit about your best friend and where you feel their presence and energy popping up on Bloom. 

There was a cartoon called Recess back in the day, and [the main character] T.J. had five friends: Mikey, Spinelli, Gretchen, Gus and Vince. In one episode, someone asked T.J. who his best friend was, and he couldn’t answer the question. Throughout the episode, you see him spending time with each friend, and by the end, he says, “I don’t have a singular best friend because these are all my best friends,” and starts going down the ways they show up for one another. 

I can’t say that there is a best friend; I have a lot of dear friends. But my default best friends are my mom and dad. They really show up for me in ways that empower me to move forward in life and be okay with the rhythm of my own drum. 

Were there any older records that guided your exploration of friendship on Bloom? 

The Waiting to Exhale soundtrack; “Exhale” encompasses [Bloom]. When you have friends to wish you well, you’ll be able to breathe regardless of what’s going on. Revisiting that movie inspires me; the relationships those women had with each other were so powerful. Regardless of what they were going through in their own lives, they were always able to come together and lean on one another. There’s other love besides romance. I wanted to decenter romantic love and talk about platonic love. 

When did you settle on the album title? 

One of my Good Judys – we’re talking 20 years of friendship, very much Delilah and Stella from How Stella Got Her Groove Back – Dr. [T. Anansi] Wilson came up with the title before he even heard the music. We were talking about growth and being in environments that help evolve and enhance who we are. He sent me a whole rundown of what “bloom” means, and it clicked. And I love a good one-word praise, that’s why there’s a lot of one-word song [titles] on [Bloom]. 

How did your approach to songwriting and vocal arrangement change between En Route and Bloom? 

I was going in a different direction, and my publicist suggested I do a love-themed album. Beforehand, I was writing my regular, random records. So, I shifted gears, and we brought in a different producer and a different writer every day for two weeks. I was trying to relinquish control and bring in some fresh ideas and different approaches melody-wise. Lyrically, I was still instrumental in making sure the stories that were being told were true to me.  

You must have gotten to flex your curatorial muscle as a producer a lot more on this project. 

I didn’t know that I had been producing if I’m telling a musician, “Hey, I want this lick like this” or “Can you give me a chord that’s like that but darker?” I might not be able to call out the chords, but I know what it feels like, and I will make sure that we kind of get as close to the idea as possible, which we end up usually doing anyway. I don’t ever want to create music and not have brains to bounce off of. 

What was the most difficult song for you to write and record for Bloom? 

At the time, it was “Unspoken,” which is purposely the shortest song on the album because I didn’t want to do any more songs under five minutes. With that one, we were maybe 80% done with the album, and my publicist was bugging me, saying, “You’re doing the love album, but where’s the hurt?” I was like, “We’re in a happy place right now. Do we have to go and dig for that?” 

But I ended up digging from a place that I hadn’t really healed from. In the real-life situation, I had to write out what happened in detail so that I would never have to talk about it again… only to have to talk about not wanting to talk about it in the song. It’s a beautiful song, but I actually folded my arms when I got a mix back that had strings on it. I was thoroughly annoyed because it sounded amazing.

Why was it important for you to have songs over five minutes? 

We have gotten into a time where songs need to be short so that they can get more streams. I was there when that started because Rihanna dropped “Birthday Cake,” and we were all hot that it was so short. Then Beyoncé dropped “Yoncé,” and it’s like, “Why is this an interlude?!” Tamar [Braxton] dropped “She Did That,” and we said the same thing. 

[The brief length] generates replay value, and when you depend on streams, you need something that will quickly replay. So, everybody was like, “F—k the full song, we don’t need a bridge, we might not even need a second hook – just an idea of a song.”  

I had way more to say than 140 characters. Even some of the producers were worried about the radio edit; I was like, “They can cut that later, I got nothing to do with that.” To my surprise, no one has complained about the length of the songs, they’re actually saying “thank you” for letting the music breathe — for giving a guitar solo, for just letting the s—t fade for 60 seconds. 

How did “Completed” come together? Where do you want to bring those rock flirtations next? 

My rocking experimentations will be on my next project, where I will be fully going rock. I’ve wanted to do that for the longest [time]. There are some things that I really need to get off my chest, and I cannot say them sweetly. That’s why I was splashing bits and pieces of rock in En Route. I’m giving you these hints, and the answer is getting a little bit louder and more present. 

“Completed” came from me wanting to talk about a relationship that I had with a friend of mine where we took a six-year break. Well, I had to take the break for us; I felt that growth needed to happen individually because we couldn’t do it together. In my mind, we just needed to get out of our 20s, and then we could reconvene. And we did reconnect in 2020; I compare it to when Will & Grace came back because we didn’t miss a beat.  

I was gonna go EDM with “Completed” when the beat dropped, but Chuck and Claude thought we should go the Purple Rain route. As did Mike Barney, who produced the hell out of the song. It’s such an emotional record because I’m also pulling from Phyllis Hyman’s “Old Friend,” specifically the [1989 Tokyo performance]. I’ve been told that folks are weeping to the song, which is great. I’m glad it’s touching people in that way. 

How did you link up with T-Pain for “That!” 

T randomly hit me up asking if I would perform in his Juneteenth celebration in L.A., and of course, I agreed. That’s when we got to actually meet and work together. I remember saying, “Bro, if I knew you back when I was a teenager, we would probably be getting into so much trouble.” [Laughs.] 

At first, I didn’t want him to hear the album, but I figured I’d give him a fair assessment of the project. He thought it was amazing and wanted to “give me something I don’t already have.” I heard the guitar lick he came up with by himself in the other room, and it caught my attention. In deciding what we were gonna sing about, he asked me, “Have you ever been shamed for growing and not doing the same s—t you used to do? And that’s where the lyric, “Why you gotta be like that?” came from. 

I would love to collaborate more with him on whatever. It could even be background arrangements, he’s really fun to work with. 

What are some of your favorite in-song moments on Bloom? 

One moment that whisks me away is the last 20 seconds of “Completed,” where I’m trying to channel Kelela; she sings softly but passionately. I hope that those who listen to her pick up on it because I’m such a fan. 

How do you plan to build out Bloom’s visual world? 

It’s gonna be flowery. Even though I have a brown thumb — it’s terrible, all my plants are plastic — I have a couple of ideas for a couple of the songs for sure. I have visuals in mind for “Jump,” “No Business,” and “Generous,” in particular. I feel like “Completed” should just be a live performance somewhere; I don’t even think that needs a video. Let’s just cut right past all that; all we need is one good take of the audio.