Everything But The Song
A hodgepodge of thoughts on Q&As, some of this week's stand out writing, and Black women in music.
During my undergraduate studies at USC, I wrote a column for the student newspaper titled “Everything But the Song,” which was not necessarily about music but music discourse, primarily through the lens of morality and social justice.
This week's newsletter follows that tradition. It’s not about Tyla, Normani, or Willow but more about the writing around them and why it works or doesn’t work.
Happy reading!
Tyla for Cosmopolitan & Elle, Willow for Allure, and Normani for The Cut
Tyla is a superstar, and the magazines are attempting to document her glory and story. In the past week, we’ve seen pieces from Elle and Cosmopolitan covering the Grammy Award-winning artist, who blends amapiano, pop, and R&B.
She’s alluring; it’s easy to read or watch any media covering her, yet many print efforts have failed to capture her as earnestly. I understand that the nuances of editorial politics influence the final product we read. Still, time and time again, Q&As and the style of the aforementioned pieces consistently fail to engage me as a reader.
Is Tyla not as articulate in conversation with these writers as compared to how she shows up on video, or is this a symptom of dwindling editorial budgets and pivots to video content?
The Elle magazine piece asks one of the most prolific new artists what she’s most proud of, a line of questioning that comes off cheap and simple. It was low-hanging fruit for one of the premier fashion and culture publications.
This is not to punch down on Elaine Welteroth or Juliana Ukiomogbe; they’re excellent writers. Yet, whenever reading a Q&A, they’re often reminiscent of something a producer would ask the subject of a documentary or a Vouge “73 Questions” video instead of a fully realized piece of journalism.
Q&As often lack texture, nuance, and storytelling. They’re one-sided and neglect to adequately acknowledge the writer's insights or allow them to document their observations of the subject. They fall short of contextualizing the artist within the broader landscape of the music industry and the world in which they operate.
To understand who Tyla is, we need insight from her stylists, observations on how she gets ready, one-liners on her accent, or how she combs her eyebrows. There’s a gaping hole in the way she’s covered editorially, and she deserves more as this moment’s pop girl. The Q&A or piecemeal interview structure is not it.
The format is most successful in niche newsletters, where they ask specifically about books, beauty, or the subject’s closet, or for publications like Interview Magazine, where the questions possess a distinct abrasiveness and uniqueness, and the subject is often in conversation with their peers. A must-read is this conversation between Gunna and Flo Milli.
I think the Q&A format lacks connection and range. Interview Magazine’s take on the format works because it reads more like a transcript. The aforementioned ones sometimes leave me with more questions than answers.
I’m not expecting Gunna to function as a storied journalist or interviewer. Still, the intimacy between two artists using unpretending jargon is more engaging than that style being transferred to Elaine Welteroth, who I know has more storytelling prowess.
What I appreciated about Elaine's discussion with Tyla was their willingness to explore her racial identity, allowing her to speak candidly about being multiracial in South Africa. Read here and below:
I’m happy there’s a conversation happening and that people are learning that Africa is more than just Black and white. Obviously, it gets messy and no one likes that, but I’m just happy people know we exist and have our own culture.
When people are like, “You’re denying your Blackness,” it’s not that at all. I never said I am not Black. It’s just that I grew up as a South African knowing myself as Coloured. And now that I’m exposed to more things, it has made me other things too. I’m also mixed-race. I’m also Black. I know people like finding a definition for things, but it’s “and,” not “or.” As young people, we have a platform where we can speak about things like this, things that are new and controversial and scary. It’s a perfect time for this conversation to happen.
In contrast, Normani was interviewed by Connor Garel for The Cut’s April 2024 cover. The opening line gags me; it's not Pulitzer Award-winning reporting, but the narrative elements and depth missing from the Tyla efforts mentioned above.
On an April afternoon in West Adams, a historically Black neighborhood in South Los Angeles, Normani emerges from a dressing room after several hours of fittings, swathed in cream and white. Andrea, her camo-clad mother, flits about the day’s photo-shoot set like a self-appointed creative director, checking screens to offer sporadic affirmations — “Oh, that’s good, Mani” — or candid styling suggestions — “Push her undies down so they aren’t showing!”
In less than a hundred words, I understand more about Normani’s relationship with her mother and what a day in her life might look like. The reader also has a scene where this information is placed without one word from the artist herself. I trust Garel’s writing and have now become obsessed with his DAZED profile of Cleo Sol from Winter 2024.
The piece isn’t easy on Normani at all. It addresses fan criticism and chatter that the artist has missed her moment and accusations that she’s running her fan page. Circling back to my comments on the Elle and Cosmopolitan pieces on Tyla, the apparent difference here is that Normani has been relevant in the pop cultural zeitgeist for over a decade. There’s more to pull from, reference, and confront.
I won’t write much more about the Normani profile; I'll let you read it yourself, but this is what good journalism looks like. This type of coverage Black women in music deserve.
Side Note: This interaction between Gunna and Normani is hilarious.
Good things come in threes, and to round out this coverage and commentary on the pieces about some of our faves, we have Willow for Allure. She’s another artist etched into our hearts and minds for years now, not just because of who her parents are but because she’s been undoubtedly herself since her first single, “Whip My Hair,” at age 10.
Willow’s eagerness to experiment has always been evident, making her appearance on the beauty magazine’s cover fitting. She effortlessly plays with her hair and maintains a clear 360-degree vision of her life, with aesthetics leading the often charge. Again, Allure’s EIC, Jessica Cruel, uncovers Willow instead of prodding at her like Q&A does. A standout portion?
This connection is one that we share. As Black women, we both grew up in households with parents and grandparents who put our safety above all else. “My parents were always so extreme about when you meet someone, look them in the eyes,” she says. “There's no, ‘whatever.’ Be very respectful [with] the way that you speak. I respect that because there's not a lot of that these days.” It’s the same speech I was given by my Southern grandparents, one that Willow remembers hearing from her Gammie, too.
Some people may argue that race is too obvious of a connection between a Black writer and their subject, but I now trust not only this piece of writing but Jessica, the writer (although she has nothing to prove), more because she’s able to tease out these parallels and ground Willow in her and the reader's reality.
One more note on Willow for Allure. As my friend, beauty enthusiast, and PR professional Hana Ford highlighted on Twitter, this cover story truly deserved a print edition. Willow is undeniably a beauty girl, and having a tangible copy of this spread would’ve sweetened the moment.
When I consider the differences in how these three women (Tyla, Willow, and Normani) were covered over the past week, I wonder how to write intimately and profoundly about a new artist.
The media's overall portrayal of Tyla's South Africanness is disappointingly superficial. While Elle and Cosmo touched on her race and briefly on her transition from South Africa to the American pop and R&B scene, how does the country's cultural scene feed what we hear and see today? I don’t yet fully understand how her self-titled debut came together.
My hopes? I'd love to read more about how she wears her hair or even have a conversation between her and Ayra Starr in Interview Magazine about bringing African aesthetics to American popular music.
Heran Mamo, an Ethiopian American music journalist and staff writer for Billboard, is one of the best at covering African artists and music that have permeated the American pop culture zeitgeist. She profiled Tyla for the publication’s March cover story.
We get tidbits from Tyla’s choreographer, Lee-ché Janecke, and a brief story about the first time she left South Africa in 2021. After reading, I now know how instrumental the amapiano track “Iskhathi (Gong Gong)” was in her exploration of the genre. There are layers here about where her songs placed on the charts or the early success of songs like “Getting Late.” I get to know more about Tyla‘s history. Yes, she’s technically a new artist, but there’s an understanding that she’s been on this journey for a while now.
I just listened to the podcast Deep Read with Phoebe Lovatt's interview with podcaster and former designer Recho Omondi. The two chatted about interviewing, how an interview is only as good as the subject, and the subject's willingness to participate.
I'm questioning whether new artists unknowingly have a different ability to participate, given their short careers, or if publications are a bit lazy in their efforts.
Another noticeable difference here is that Q&As are not profiles, so the intention is different, but for someone as big as Tyla, publications should go big or go home. Or if they’re going to use the Q&A format to niche down and pick a specific angle. The attempts from Elle and Cosmopolitan posture themselves as significant; but don’t live up to the hype once you start reading.
On another note, Tyla is young, and sometimes, it's hard to comment on yourself or your industry when you're so closely tied to the moment as opposed to Willow or Normani, who have more storied careers.
GQ's Frazier Tharpe interviewed OVO Sound's Dallas-bred 4batz for the publication.
We uncover the lore behind his viral 2023 single "Act II: Date @ 8” and his first song, “Stickerz ‘99.” I have the context of and his musings on his virality. I understand his thoughts on other Texas artists, even though he’s not even a year into his stardom. I want Tyla to get the GQ treatment.
As I mentioned before, editorial budgets are dwindling, and I can't help but think that Black women artists, even someone as big as Tyla, are getting the short end of the stick. Now, Cosmopolitan isn't known for glorious profiles, and there's a clear pivot to video happening across the industry, but I did expect better from Elle.
When it comes to Tyla, it's not that there's not enough to work with, although she hasn't had the longest career…yet; there's more to be explored that there may not be the budget, intention, time, or expertise to do.
That’s all for today. If you have any news, trends, or phenomena that you think I should write about or want to chat, email me at ellisellice@gmail.com.