Eric Benét on soul music: ‘It’s kind of like pornography’
theGRIO Q & A - It's been more than six years since R&B heartthrob Eric Benét completed a messy divorce from Oscar winner Halle Berry...
It’s been more than six years since R&B heartthrob Eric Benét completed a messy divorce from Oscar winner Halle Berry. His name splashed across tabloid pages for an alleged sexual addiction and rampant infidelity. Though memories of that scandal may be hard to shake for some fans, Benét says he put that episode behind him long ago. These days, the singer’s focused on a completely different time in history—the 1970s.
On his forthcoming fifth solo album, Lost In Time, Benét, 44, has tapped into the soundtrack of his youth, combining his neosoul pedigree and cameos from contemporary chart-toppers Faith Evans, Chrisette Michelle and Ledisi with an organic funkiness reminiscent of groups like Kool and the Gang, The O’Jays, The Stylistics. “My philosophy has been to try to listen to that little voice inside me,” he says, “the voice that is at the heart of my passion for songwriting and music.” In a recent chat with theGrio.com, Benét explains that following his gut has largely served his singing career well thus far, and that now his personal life is falling right into place.
theGrio: You first emerged in the mid-’90s. How do you explain your longevity?
Eric Benét: It’s cool, not just to be in the game this long, but to have been at the same label for 16 years. In an ever-shrinking industry and all of these executive in revolving doors, it’s pretty novel that I’m still an urban artist at the label where I first signed to in my original deal. I’m grateful. My first record is called “True to Myself”. My approach to the industry has been just that. I don’t really jump on the bandwagon of whatever you know the sound of the moment is.
But isn’t it tempting to follow certain musical trends?
It was at first. Maybe a couple albums ago I conceded to try a couple things with a couple different producers. It always felt like I was trying to be or do something that I wasn’t whenever I did that. Love & Life was really the first album where the label kind of broke me off a check and said, all right go make your record, turn it in when you’re done. It was like a comeback record for me: two Grammy nominations, lots of radio play, sold some records. So this time around it was a lot easier to chat with the head of the label and say can we do that again, but this time can you give me a little bit more money? The kind of record I want to make is pretty expensive to do these days. Lost In Time, pretty much every song is with live musicians.
What led you to want to reproduce a ‘70s soul sound?
The ‘70s was the most creative and influential era for R&B. It was just a prolific time of R&B maturing into this expressive art form. When we’re talking about the vocals, we’re talking about a time and an era where we didn’t have technology to kind of hide the fact that some people just can’t sing live or in the studio, so you got to come with it raw.
The first single, “Sometimes I Cry,” is steady on the charts these days. Explain the meaning of that song.
Getting over a serious and involved relationship is a process; it happens in stages. You go through a little denial, you go through a little fear, you go through that rage and anger, you go through some other shit too. Then you eventually get to a place where you’re ok, and you manage to go a couple days without thinking about her. But before you can say you get to that place, there’s usually that one last time that the ghost of the relationship haunts you one last real good time. That’s where that song is coming from.
Wait, this song is about Halle isn’t it?
That’s [always] the next question. Nah, that’s not about her. It’s one of those songs, where I just look back. I’ve had a couple big breakups in my life. People kind of assume that if I’m singing a song, they’re like, ‘Is he still singing about Halle?’ That just goes along with the territory of the public knowing this one relationship of yours. The media can’t leave it alone. I’m very much happily involved with an incredibly wonderful person. Someone I’ve been with for the last four years, Manuela Testolini. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
You’ve been associated with neo-soul. Now you’re going back to a classic soul sound. Is it challenging to define what soul or R&B music really is?
It’s kind of like pornography: It’s kind of hard to define but you know it when you see it. You can feel the Southern gospel gene in it, you can feel the blues gene in it, you can feel the African-American experience from slavery on up in it. It’s just something that’s not easy to put on paper but as soon as you hear that bass line and the right vocal on top of it, the right drum groove and the right back porch guitar, doing some rhythm and stuff over it, it’s undeniable. When I listen to the biggest R&B album — what they call R&B today — it doesn’t feel like R&B to me. It feels like techno mixed with dance, [the vocalist] doing some runs on top of it.
Who did you enlist to help you get that old school sound?
We got, for a little bit more authenticity, Mr. Benjamin Wright, who is a legendary arranger of strings and horns. He did so many classic songs. He did Earth, Wind and Fire’s “Boogie Wonderland,” the strings and horns on that. He did [string arrangements on] Michael Jackson’s “Rock With You.” I sat down and had a conversation with Benjamin, about what I wanted to write and how I wanted it to feel. He did a lot of the arrangements. We definitely needed Benjamin’s old school, I-was-there-and-I-was-making-it perspective.
One of signature groups of the ‘70s is the O’Jays. What was it like working with Eddie Levert on the track “Paid”?
I pretty much painted myself in a corner with that one. Once I came up with the idea, the melody, and the structure of the song, it was clear that it was a song like the O’Jays often did—a song which spoke for the people and that came from the frustrations of the people. I wrote the song with my cousin George, and recall having conversations with him like, ‘Dude, if Eddie says no, I don’t know what we’re going to do with this song.’ I sang the song, set the demo over to Eddie, and gratefully, he was loving it. That was an incredible experience. He adds so much validity to this project. His voice is like one of those soundtrack-of-my-life voices.
Speaking of collaborations, this November you’re sharing stages on a 30-city tour with two artists who have all been involved in recent scandals, Fantasia and Kandi from Xscape and Real Housewives of Atlanta. Is that just a coincidence?
It wasn’t a thought at all in my mind. Fantasia can sing her ass off. Every time I’ve had an opportunity to catch her live, I’ve been blown away. So when the promoters came to me and my management and asked if I’d like to be a part of it, it was a no brainer for me. That aspect that you’re talking about it until a couple interviews ago. And asked how you feel about that. I guess I just don’t. Everybody’s been through some shit.
Will you address your rocky past on stage?
Absolutely not. I’m not really trying to get on a soap box and say hey look at me I’m doing great now. I’m just trying to focus on my music and my family and in doing that I feel that the positivity will continue to exude. I’ll keep trying to be the best song writer, the best singer, the best father and best person that I can. Everything else will speak for itself.
