By Amy Linden
Beautiful, smart, talented and refreshingly down to earth — if she weren't so
damn nice, it would be really easy just to hate Jody Watley. But how could
you? The former "Soul Train" dancer-turned-singer (first with '80s pop/R&B
trio Shalamar and then on her own) and 1983 best-new-artist Grammy
winner has just released Flower, her sixth solo effort and her first for
Atlantic Records. The album is not only one of her strongest, but it is
testimony to the longevity of a woman many critics dismissed as just an MTV
dance dolly. Wrong. The hoops and the crinolines are in mothballs and Jody is
taking no shorts.
Working with some of the cooler young songwriters around
(Malik Pendelton, Rashaan Paterson, D'Wayne Wiggins) and armed with a
renewed confidence and sexiness to die for (the latter quality underscored by
a concurrent Playboy pictorial), single mom and all-around boss babe Jody
Watley is ready to give the new divaettes a serious run for their money. I
recently spoke to Jody, who is one of those women who looks good even
after coming in on the red-eye, in NYC.
THE INTERVIEW
Why don't you talk about the album's title?
Flower was a good metaphor for growth.
The song [of the same title] is obviously
about sexual responsibility, so that was
the main metaphor. [Also,] it's like
knowing who someone has been and
remembering and appreciating that, but
really appreciating what they are now
even more. I thought it would be a great
way to bring that to the forefront. [A lot
of people say,] "I remember you from
'Soul Train,'" "I remember you from Shalamar." And with
each thing I've done since then, I've grown as a person, as a
woman, as a singer, a writer — all those things. So I thought
that Flower would be a great metaphor.
Do you feel that you have this image that supersedes the
person?
Yeah. [Laughs.] Not as much as maybe a couple of years
ago, but it's like, "Oh, Jody Watley. You look different." And I
always make this joke that I know you were expecting to see
the big skirts and the hoops. But that was a long time ago. ...
Artists aren't always seen as real people. If you start out as a
teenager, sometimes people want to keep you locked as that.
But I'm a woman now.
Do you think people forget that you did start very young?
As a teenager?
I don't think they forget, because I always get the "I've been
following you since 'Soul Train'" [remark]. In some cases I
feel like they haven't appreciated enough that growing up
doesn't mean boring and old and not full of life. I like to talk
about that also. As you go through life's experiences, you
learn your lessons, and life gets better for you. On the artwork
for my CD, there's the [phrase] "There's growing in knowing,"
and it's true. You learn from your experiences. Some people
don't, but I do.
Over the course of the past albums, you did more and
more songwriting, and yet on Flower, you have many
other folks providing material. Why didn't you write as
much this time?
I wanted to be open. [On] the last project, "Affection," I
co-wrote everything. Sometimes, I think, it's smart to step
away and be open. Maybe [with] your emotions and your
feelings, someone else can say it in a different way than you
would, which brings new life to the way you might sing it.
Like [the song] "If I'm Not in Love With You." I could have
never written that song and gotten that type of performance,
'cause I don't write in that way. But the song touched me on
an emotional level, and even if I haven't written the song, it
still reads as "my song," because I pick songs from an
emotional standpoint.