Interview: D∆WN

A New Orleans native who’s been singing since childhood, Dawn Richard eventually joined the group Diddy-Dirty Money after a brief stint with girl group Danity Kane. Following her independently released 2013 debut LP, Goldenheart. Richard returned as D∆WN in 2015 with her sophomore effort Blackheart. 2016 has been even busier, as a musical partnership with Machinedrum led to her new album Redemption following her four-track Infrared EP with Fade to Mind founder Kingdom.

On a recent edition of Bizarre Ride, RBMA Radio’s spotlight on Los Angeles, Dawn spoke with host Jeff Weiss about misogyny in the music industry, fearlessness and her love of electronic music.

Listen to Bizarre Ride on RBMA Radio every second Wednesday of the month at 11 AM EDT.

How long have you actually been living in Los Angeles for?

Four years totally on, but on and off for maybe six years when I was recording with Dirty Money. I was between here and Miami, and then I just stayed after I left Bad Boy.

Of course, you’re from New Orleans.

Born and raised.

I know this is a question you’ve always been asked, but how do you think being from New Orleans, obviously such a musical capital, has influenced you as a musician and as an artist?

I think it’s given me freedom to appreciate all sounds from zydeco to blues to jazz to rock to even Bayou blues. My father played piano and got a Master’s in music, and then my grandfather played with the likes of Fats Domino, I was surrounded by the pulse. You have no choice growing up in New Orleans. You have to respect that sound, that brass, that second line, the marching band where, in the South we know you can get a full scholarship and a full ride just playing an instrument. That’s something that resonates true to anyone growing up in the South. You just know that music is very present and can be a large part of your life.

I was in New Orleans two weeks ago. It’s the only place in the world where there are parking signs that read, “No parking from four to six due to parades.” That’s peak New Orleans.

Anytime we can have fun and be free, we do it. I think that’s what makes the city special. There’s a festival, a parade, a second line happening at any moment. I think that’s just an appreciation of life. We’ve had to find the good in all the crazy. Music and dance and song has become that outlet.

You were first discovered singing at Tipitina’s, right?

Well, I did perform at Tipitina’s, but my first big break was opening up for Anthony Hamilton at the UNO arena. That was the first time I’d ever experienced a large stage, and it changed me forever.

In what way?

That became the addiction. That addiction for the connection to people. I never realized you could be so connected to people and be on the same page with them just by the movement of song. That was the first time I really felt that addiction to want to connect with people in that way. After I did it, I never wanted to stop feeling that feeling.

And you went to school in Thibodaux.

I started in Nicholls State in Thibodaux, and then matriculated to University of New Orleans and finished there.

What were you studying?

Marine biology.

What inspired you to want to do that in the first place?

I just had an affinity for the love of animals. I wanted to concentrate on dolphins and manatees. I just felt like they were neglected. There was an enormous amount of killings due to the bows of ships. They were getting caught in nets and caught on the propellers of the boats because they don’t move as fast. They are benthic. They sit very low on the ocean. They were getting killed.

I wanted to take on that story and that presence. I interned at Sea World and was not pleased. But I think that the ocean is a world in itself and is still being discovered. There are things that we are not aware of in the ocean. It’s just like the galaxy. I think dolphins are quite smart. The whole aesthetic of them and the way they communicate is brilliant to me. I’ve always loved them for that. I think they laugh at us a lot of the time because they know things we don’t.

To fast forward, you obviously ended up in Danity Kane. How did that ... Just an audition?

Yeah, I was dancing in the NBA oddly enough, for the Hornets. The girls were like, “You sing really well. You dance. Why not try out for this show we’re watching?” Of course, I had never seen it before. I thought it was a joke.

I had already tried out for American Idol prior to that and the turnout wasn’t great. It was painful for my parents to watch because they told me they thought my voice was too different for the show and then they picked Fantasia, which I think is one of the most beautiful, different voices we have. That was odd. They didn’t want me to try out for another show. I took my own little money, stayed in a little roach motel three miles away from the audition and walked to it and wound up making it. It was on, not a bet, but like an, “Okay, I’ll try.” It was random.

I was a big fan of the Dirty Money project actually. One of the most underrated projects of the last ten years.

Yeah, we did some amazing music. I think that was a great time. I was lucky. I was fortunate to be in that project and work with the amount of people that were on that project. You name it from Swizz Beatz to Grace Jones to Lil Wayne, Chris Brown, Nicki Minaj. You name it. Kanye. They were all a part of it.

I think from afar, people always just think of Diddy as the shiny suit, late ’90s Diddy, but I imagine he probably has a pretty incredible music knowledge and love of all genres.

He’s incredible. His ear is incredible. I think everyone who knows him knows that he has a great ear.

What did you learn working with him?

The ultimate question that’s asked a thousand times.

Yeah, there are actually no new questions left to ask in interviews anymore.

That one is just the one that’s always been asked.

It’s an easy answer then.

It’s not an easy answer because he is not an easy man. I think no one really knows who Puff is but himself and those who are really close to him, like his mother, even she probably doesn’t know all of it. What I can say, what I’ve learned, is that the man understands the business and he understands the way in which to market himself. If you’re smart, you pay attention to that because there are gems there to be taken from him. I was lucky enough to be around it and hopefully apply them to what I knew. I think that has a lot to do with why I’m still able to do the things that I’m able to do in my own business.

Looking from afar, there’s obviously his ability to reinvent himself.

Absolutely. I think there’s talent in that. I think that’s very hard to do, and I think he’s managed to figure it out. He’s among the few of them that have.

From the Diddy era until now, there was a four year gap in which you were making music but it wasn’t getting nearly as much attention as your current stuff. Take me through what happens in that gap.

In four years, I did six projects. I was busy. I wanted to do a trilogy. I wanted to have a conversation and create a story that was built around what my experience was with the industry. I felt like after 10-11 years in Bad Boy, I was able to leave cleanly and with respect.

I wanted to then tell the story of this kind of love story that I had with the music and how it wasn’t always good to me. I felt like I had something to say, so I created an EP called Armor On, which was this sword in hand, warrior-esque feel about me going into the industry the way I did. From that, I never knew if people would even like it or not. The critics were on my side with that album, and that was Goldenheart. I think that turned people’s heads.

It didn’t convince them, but I think they were just like, “What’s this over here?” They thought I was a little bit ambitious because I was independent and wanting to do something so grand. A lot of them patted me on the head and said, “Oh, that’s cute that you want to do this.” I think the idea when I was pitching it to press, they thought it wouldn’t happen and nothing would come of it.

Then Blackheart came. I think that’s really when heads started to turn in the electronic world and the underground world. They were like, “Where’s this girl coming from a reality television show and now making this kind of music?” It was brow raising. I think a lot of people, they couldn’t believe it. At first it was, “Okay,” and then it was like, “Wow. Okay. We actually have to take her seriously because she’s making music that’s kind of different.” Whether or not that’s true or not, that’s just what was being said.

I think it was definitely different. A friend of mine put me on your music by being like, “you have to hear this record. It’s the most adventurous production matched with really beautiful singing.”

I appreciate and I love that because I think that that’s honest. I think the trilogy is really, honestly, who I’ve always been as a child, as a kid, the music that I’ve always wanted to make as a child. I loved Björk. I loved the Cranberries. I loved Bif Naked. I loved K’s Choice, Live. I loved the alternative sound always. Björk was pop culture for me.

I loved the visual performances from Chris Cunningham who worked with Aphex Twin. Again, that’s what I loved. I always wanted to make visuals and music that I could finally make. I had an opportunity, so I did. For people, the Black era, I really think introduced me to a whole new audience, which I was really proud of. I think it expanded the vision of who I was. It was nine visuals in one year. It was really busy. I think I solidified myself as a visual performer at that point.

Now with Redemption, I think it’s full circle for me. It’s about the live element. It’s incorporating New Orleans into the sound of electronic music. I thought when coming in, you said something really great. You said, “I’ve never heard someone sing so beautifully over these types of sounds.” What I’m trying to prove is that you can. There can be a soul. There can be a New Orleans style brought to the electronic music, which I think is very rare.

What was the most frustrating to you about your experiences with the industry?

I think at first I felt a bit misunderstand and stifled. I thought that because I was in a pop group it didn’t mean that that was all I was, and then, I didn’t really understand my place physically and visually. It was hard to connect to my own culture because we were in a predominately white group. Our push as Danity Kane was a pop aesthetic. I think being a black woman in that, they didn’t necessarily know where to put us in that, but we were signed to Bad Boy. It was very odd. It just all was a little bit crazy.

Our manager, he had managed Britney Spears and NSYNC. The dynamic was all over the place. But we did the best that we could. I think that had a little bit to do with it. I also think as a woman, just being treated a certain way in the industry as I was moving forward was odd and off-putting as well.

When I got out of it, the first thing I wanted to do was talk about it and talk about what I had seen. I think that’s where the trilogy came from – someone who had dreams of what they thought it was and then was presented with what it really was and fighting that battle to figure it out. I think everybody’s gone through that in this industry.

Did you find that there was a lot of misogyny?

Misogyny and just blatant disrespect for woman period. I don’t think it was always purposeful. I think it was just understood. I think it’s been done for so long, like going into an event and your voice really not being heard. Almost that pat on the head again, that belittling.

I think I was off put by it because I came from a household where my mother was celebrated as a queen. All the women in my family have PhDs, master’s degrees, so the level of intelligence and the way they’re perceived is what I know. Going to something where you’re not perceived that way or you’re not even respected was off-putting to me. It’s all about environment. I grew up in something different, and the industry showed me something completely different.

Completely. Not to generalize because there’s a ton of exceptions, but the major label industry, it’s like they try to sign the youngest person they can, try to sign them to the worst deal and hope they don’t have a good lawyer.

Yeah, and even the way you look. You look like this, and you need to change this look because we can’t market you in this way. All those things, you’re too skinny, so you don’t relate to black culture because you’re thin and you’re not light enough. All of that shit was new for me.

It was just new. I had dealt with it in New Orleans already because there is a sense of black-on-black racism. The brown paper bag where, if you’re too dark, you don’t get in. I dealt with that in the NBA and dancing and that whole thing. I already understood it, but I guess my expectations were wrong. I’ve had to deal with that as a woman, and I think all artists have to deal with that. The story of a lot of artists in this business is, “How do you fit into this and be able to keep yourself without compromising who you are but still playing the game enough to get where you need to get.”

Definitely. It’s really weird because you’ll see all kinds of things. I just did an interview with Kamasi Washington and you’ll see someone who was like he didn’t really taste success on a major level until 34 years old. Then everyone’s like, “Oh, you’re the face of jazz. You’re this genius.” Until Kendrick gave you that cosign and Flying Lotus and them, he would’ve just been another great jazz musician playing jazz in LA.

There you go. I think I just stopped caring for the cosign because as an artist, you’re waiting for it, and then you wait for it. When you don’t get it, you’re devastated and you think that you’re not worthy. I think we’re of the time where the cosign is key. It’s crucial to your talent.

Your popularity is way more important than your actual talent. People want to have to love to be you. That’s the only way they care. Marketing and brands don’t care if you’re talented now. They care about the number of your Instagram followers. That’s the change of the market. You could either be bitter about it or you figure out how you fit into it. What I’ve done is, instead of expect the cosign or ask for people to like me, I’ve created myself as a small business and made myself an entrepreneur and fit tech into my brand, which is so much easier because social media and the tech space is the new playground for artists if you see it.

What kinds of things?

One of the great examples is with this release we’re not only offering it digitally, but we’re offering it as a USB where VR content will be a part of it and you can wear it. We’ve created a fashion piece that you can wear around your neck that carries not only the album and a book, but VR content as well. Again, we’re creating a market where we’re innovating, and becoming more of a brand in ourselves instead of waiting for the brand to get on the train.

When did you come to this realization that this was the thing that you wanted to do?

I think early on into the project. Early on into the trilogy when I realized all the doors were slamming in my face and people were saying, “You’re black, so do R&B.” I was like, “Okay, they’re not getting it.” It was two choices: be bitter and give up or be angry or fucking figure it out.

Was there ever any fear?

Yeah, there’s always fear, and then I fucking jump over that. I’m the girl that if fear comes at it, I’m going to go right back. I like that. The moment I feel like I’m being boxed in or uncomfortable or there’s a fearful moment, the best way I get out of it is to go headfirst at it.

I knew this shit would be a risk. Puff told me it would be. The moment I sat in his office and I played him this, I was like, “This is the type of music I want to do. You have an opportunity. I would love to be with you as a solo artist. Would you sign me to Interscope?”

He said to me verbatim, he said, “I love you, but to be honest with you, I think you should be doing music like Mary J. Blige and Keyshia Cole. If you do this music, no one will get it, just like they didn’t get Dirty Money.” Because he felt like it wasn’t received the way it should have been. He gave it to me straight. I made a choice, and I didn’t conform to the basics. I said, “Okay, well then I’m going to have to go and do what I wanted to do.” I knew it would be hard. That was okay because it was a choice between doing the cliché shit – and not being who I was – or being me.