Just as playful is ’s sleek soundboard of noughties-inspired pop-R&B hybrids, revitalising the era’s larger-than-life productions for advanced anti-misogyny sensibilities. To the force Stephens once penned a track for, “Foolish like Ashanti, I might be” she nods on the crunk-inflected “B4U”. Mention Chingy, and she chuckles. “Dallas [Caton], the producer, will be really happy that you said that. He was going through a bit of a phase where every song we made that week literally was a Chingy knockoff, a Soulja Boy knockoff. That's obviously how we got a song like ‘Freakie’ [on deluxe EP compilation ].”
She sells herself short for someone who makes music that could sit alongside pop’s high-class. Not everyone can bring antiquated elements before an audience of iPhone faces, after all. “I make what I think is missing. Maybe the reason people think R&B music is so limiting is because they’re only really being exposed to one type of it in this day and age.”
Stephens expresses how she has felt limited by the industry’s tendency to put her in an R&B box, wholeheartedly agreeing with Kelela’s thesis on the genre. Promoting her own project on BBC Radio 1Xtra, Kelela recently spoke on seeing the genre as far more expansive than its current mainstream representation suggests. There are many variations and approaches to vocal styling, for Kelela there’s the appeal of integrating electric guitars commonly associated with rock music. Teddy Riley’s new jack swing of the late 80s and early 90s, popularised by the greatest Janet Jackson hits of producer and songwriting duo Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, offered Stephens a path to bridge her influences. “To me, it’s the perfect blend of R&B and pop. It’s got the melodies, but the production is very radio. It’s big and it’s urgent.”
Her aspiration for an expansive trademark is a testament to the reputable contributions she’s won over. On opener “Crush”, PinkPantheress is credited as a background vocalist. The two hit it off at a very crowded Grammy party prior to Stephens’ feature request, framed as casually as possible, to which an ill pop princess obliged. “I was like, ‘I’m grateful for whatever. Just cough, and I’ll put it in the song, I don’t care.’”
“I Miss The City” collaborator MNEK represents a different kind of full-circle moment. Stephens remembers hearing his velvet voice on Nick Grimshaw’s Radio 1 Breakfast Show as a teen, when she was fascinated by British music and culture. Years later, after meeting him in London during her first songwriting sessions, she finally got to work with him on the album. “I really wanted, like, a good classic song, and I feel like he really delivered that. Just like strong melody, strong concept. He knows how to fucking do that.”
The birthplace of her musical journey after graduating from high school, Stephens’ connection to the UK stretches beyond the studio. A hiker in the LA sense, she cherishes the freedom of a walkable city and public transport like the ruminating twinkle of her midtempo MNEK track. She didn’t have much money for gigs then, but with London and Manchester on the itinerary for the week, she’s happy to be back, supporting Khalid on the European leg of his It’s Always Summer Somewhere Tour. “I’m excited to see what y’all give, I feel like across Europe it’s different,” she says. “It’s mixed reactions. Some countries are a bit more quiet, and some are a bit rowdier and crazier.”
And if there’s one more way to bring her club-ready creation to life, it might just be through karaoke. At the request of covering LeAnn Rimes’ iconic “Can’t Fight the Moonlight”, Miss Andry is more than game. “I’d love to find a way to incorporate it into my live shows when I start putting my tour together.”