He's made his mark behind the scenes on albums by Alicia Keys, Jay-Z and the Black-Eyed Peas. Now John Legend is stepping out of the shadows and, he tells Jim Carroll, he's ready for his close-up
John Legend has lost count of the number of times he's done this. A small room, a big piano, a crowd of people looking at him. This kind of thing got him through his last year in college back in Philly and on the bill in clubs in Washington, DC and New York. This kind of thing persuaded various industry big-hitters that he could be more than just a hook singer who came in to add some gospel and soul to blockbuster r 'n' b and hip-hop albums.
This kind of thing? Could do it with his eyes shut, man. Been playing piano since he was four, so he knows where the keys are. Been singing in a choir since he was eight. Been writing songs since he could put lines and rhymes together. No bother to him.
This kind of thing has brought him to another city and another industry schmooze. For some reason, Usher is sitting in the front row. Hell, Usher made sure he was sitting in the front row. Even tried to move some Irish hacks to make sure he was in the front row, but they weren't budging.
Someone else moved so he could be right in Legend's sightline. Maybe Usher thought Legend might be intimidated seeing a million-selling r 'n' b short-arse in the front row. Maybe Usher couldn't see from the back.
This, his pal Kanye West told him, is how it will go down. This, said Kanye, is how you sell albums. Go out there, play the piano. Sing your songs. Do some meeting. A little bit of greeting. Let the songs do the rest. Play the game.
Kanye is one hell of a salesman. Legend spent '04 watching Kanye blow up worldwide. Now, he thinks, it's my turn to give the sales pitch.
John Legend walks over to the piano and starts to play and sing. A few songs from his Get Lifted album. A little bit of chit-chat. Get the room hollering in the right places. Play a few snatches of songs he's worked on for Alicia Keys and Jay-Z and Kanye. Let them see his credentials. Leave 'em wanting more. Hey, if they want more, they can buy the album.
Get Lifted is already one of 2005's sweetest gems, an album loaded down with soul and gospel, an album with jazz and funk embroidered in the stitching. You can hear all of this in Legend's voice, a silky, graceful elegant thing which conjures up majestic, gospel-charged hallelujahs and sweeping, swooning epic moments without even trying too hard.
Why, if you look hard enough, you could even imagine Marvin Gaye flying high in a friendly sky to some of these cuts.
About a year ago, Legend picked up a copy of Mercy Mercy Me, Michael Eric Dyson's fine book on the life of that most troubled of souls. It opened Legend's eyes and ears. "I was reading it when I was finishing off the album and it made me go back to Marvin's music and realise I could do some different things with my own recordings. You know those airy background vocals at the start of Get Lifted? That was Marvin-inspired. I think that's the kind of thing he'd have done."
John Legend was born and raised as John Stephens in Springfield, Ohio. He always did have music in his ear. There was a piano in the house, his grandma making sure he had plenty of gospel songs to sing and Pentecostal church choirs and school musicals to keep him out of trouble. "Pentecostal music is very animated and upbeat and important to the service. There's no stodgy old hymns, so when you were a kid, it was fun to do music in church because it was good and exciting music."
After leaving school, John got in a car and drove nine hours to sign up for college in Philadelphia. By day he studied literature. By evening and night and those hours in the day when he didn't have his head in a book, he studied music.
The Bethel AME Church in Scranton hired him to run their music department, giving him dollars and a church home. He worked with Counterparts, a student a cappella group in the University of Philadelphia. There was a lot of new music in Philly, and Legend the outsider watched the likes of Jill Scott and The Roots coming and going and took notes on what he saw. Literature? It didn't stand a chance. "I was more passionate about the music, a lot more passionate."
Every couple of months, Legend would head to New York to do some work with producer Dave Tozer. He'd be doing shows in clubs, releasing a few live CDs and keeping the wolf from the door, but he wanted something other than the small victories he was racking up.
One night, a friend of a friend called Kanye West turned up to a show and liked what he heard. The two clicked and Legend's journey out of the shadows began. By the end of 2003, Legend had credits on such albums as Diary of Alicia Keys, Jay-Z's Black Album and the Black Eyed Peas' Elephunk. He was ready for the next level.
It was, in fairness, a mighty fine apprenticeship. "It was invaluable being able to work on those big records," he says, "because it taught me a lot about how to go about making a record in the first place. I'd watch the session players, the producer and the engineers and just see what they were doing. It rubs off; you learn a few tricks here and there.
"Being around a lot of MCs really influenced me, and I think my writing is wittier and punchier now than it was before. There's a lot of good one-liners in there which I don't think you get with other r 'n' b artists, but which MCs specialise in."
Legend's lyrics are another reason why Get Lifted stands out from the new-soul pack. Sharp and witty, they take in all the foibles, fallacies and fancies of love, life and everything inbetween. As Legend puts it, there are two sides to this story. "There's the infidelity and the misbehaving side and then a side to reconcile all that."
He knows he's taking a chance with some of the lines, especially Number One, with its tale of cheeky philandering. "I think women in particular will scoff at some of the lyrics, especially Number One," he says. "But I wanted the album to feel true and feel real so I talked about real stuff that people talk about. Sometimes I talked about it in the way that I talked to my guy friends.
"On Number One, it's things that me and my boys would talk about that we might not necessarily want our girls to hear. But we talk about it so I don't feel bad putting it on the album because it shows a side of a relationship. It's intended to be funny so I hope people take it lightly."
It sure is a far cry from the Pentecostals. "That was an environment where there were a lot of taboos about what you could do morally or sexually," Legend recalls. "The Pentecostal church may be very charismatic on the music side, but it's very socially rigid. There's always that conflict when someone grows up in that situation because there are other things in life which are forbidden but are tempting because of that. That conflict, that struggle, between the sacred and the sensual makes for fruitful exploration and great art."
The crowd back in the London club recognise great art when it starts to sing. Legend closes his eyes and the chords to Used to Love U start up. The song fills the room and you can tell that it will fill many, many rooms in the months to come.
Legend probably knows that too, but he's too modest a guy to admit it.
"I'm reserved and laidback and less given to hyperbole. I know I'm not the only artist who's witty or mixing hip-hop sensibility with r 'n' b and gospel. I don't think I'm the only one taking it to a new place because everyone has their own unique combination of elements which they put together. It's not groundbreaking, but it is pretty well executed."
But, like Sam Cooke said, a change is gonna come. "It's amazing how many records we've sold already after a few weeks and it's cool that it's my record and my name that's out there."
He pauses for a moment. "You see, when it's necessary, I can talk the talk."
Get Lifted is out now on Good/Columbia Records. The new single, Used to Love U, is released in March
