REAL

REAL is an apt description for what you get from this multi-talented R&B/soul triple threat as a singer, songwriter and performer. Everything he’s gone through, from living on the streets in New York City to raising his beloved autistic son Howard, can be heard in Real’s expressive, multi-octave vocal range, capable of plumbing the depths of Barry White or soaring the heights of Michael Jackson, sometimes in the same song, as he does on “For the Rest of My Life,” one of the songs on his debut album, Rhythm of Life, for indie Sankofa Records. The album was produced by Franklyn Grant, an engineer on records for Teddy Riley, Mariah Carey, Jennifer Lopez and Michael Jackson, with Nalo. So far, Real has attracted an incredible 2.7 million profile views and more than 3.3 million plays of the six songs currently posted on his MySpace page, www.myspace.com/sankofarecords. “Everybody has their own journey, their own road to success,” explains the Memphis-born, Toledo-raised performer about the experiences that brought him to this point. “One thing I always knew I could do was write lyrics and songs. People always responded to my stories.” Real began writing because he loved to read—as a boy, he pored through Hemingway and Dumas, expanding his vocabulary by watching The Tonight Show, soaking up his idol Johnny Carson’s monologues when his mom would let him stay up late Friday nights. That sensibility comes out in “Girlfriend of Mine,” a song that, according to Real, “people can dance to, but there’s a sense of longing to it, too,” telling the story of a guy losing a lover who is also his best friend, with the attendant sense of drama. “You’ve been acting so distant and strange,” he pleads, heart on his sleeve. “And when I questioned you/Oh, you can’t explain/What is wrong, my friend…You’re losing me… Whatcha doing to me?” “Romance is what’s missing today from the music industry,” he says. “Back when a guy would sing to a girl, either because he’s enamored with her or because she broke his heart. Music used to be a very personal thing for men and women, our way to connect. That’s what I’m going for…that kind of communication. It’s not about vindictiveness. My music is about how we need each other. And how we were meant to be together.” You can hear that in the sensuous yearning of “Get Back Together Letter” (“I’m writing you a letter/Say how much I missed ya/How I want to hold ya/How I want to kiss ya”), the lover’s promise of “Everything,” the autobiographical “Love,” written for his son “who taught me how to love” (“Mama was the first one to show me/Daddy foolishly threw it away”), the Marvin Gaye “What’s Going On” questioning of “Same Thang, Different Day,” the hopeful promise of “For the Rest of My Life,” and the Teddy Pendergrass-like pleading of the funk-driven “Take Time.” That same desire to connect is apparent in Real’s live shows, with his 10-piece Nonfiction band, channeling some of his own favorite performers, from R&B performers like Frankie Beverly and Maze, Anita Baker, Al Green and Luther Vandross to mainstream artists such as Dean Martin, Rod Stewart, Bobby Darin, Neil Diamond and ABBA to—believe it or not—country icons Patsy Cline and Hank Williams, and even masked heavy metal rockers Kiss. “I was one of the only black kids who could appreciate them,” laughs Real, who remembers stealing the show from headliners Jagged Edge during a rain-soaked appearance in Paterson, NJ that proved he could entertain a crowd. Growing up in Toledo, Real’s mom would throw parties and play records on the large breakfront stereo, with the Dells’ doo-wop street corner harmonies on “Stay in My Corner” and “I Miss You” catching his ear as a youngster. “I used to sing along to the lead vocalist’s voice,” remembers Real, who also heard Motown’s David Ruffin and Eddie Kendricks, the O’Jays, Gamble and Huff’s Philly International sound, BB King and James Brown early on. His mother bought him a guitar when he was a teenager, but he stepped on it and broke it waiting for batteries to power the amp. While at the University of Toledo, Real started out studying journalism (“Because I loved to write”), but eventually stopped going to classics as he began composing songs. A trip to New York, where he ran into Biggy Smalls and Kid N’ Play at a club, opened his eyes and blew his mind. “I knew immediately it was the place I had to be,” he says. A stint on the streets and the birth of his young son set him on the path towards music. He began performing his songs to his own tracks at open mic nights at clubs like the Soul Café on 44th St. and 10th Avenue. “I’m a real spiritual man,” he says of his struggles. “Everybody’s time is their time. If I had done this when I was younger, people wouldn’t have believed me. You need to have a little experience to sing songs like this.” Rhythm of Life combines Real’s love of old school soul and R&B, with an up-to-date modern production edge. “I wanted to go for something that was more organic,” he says of the production, pointing to neo-soul stars such as Angie Stone, Anthony Hamilton, Erykah Badu, Maxwell and D’Angelo as role models. “Reminiscent of a time when they made great music… something to set me apart from everybody else. “It’s all about helping men and women reconnect with one another. These days, men and women act like they’re enemies. I just want to help them team up to be allies in life and love. That’s what I want to convey in my music.” Real is a man out of time, which makes him perfect for today’s increasingly melting pot world, as open and wide-ranging in his tastes as he is a believer in the joys of classic soul and R&B. “I’m really hungry to get out there and perform for people,” he enthuses. “I want to give the public something they haven’t had in a long time, the Real Experience. People are looking to get more than their money’s worth now. When I get out there, I’ve got a lot of surprises up my sleeve. This is just the beginning.” With plans for not just a career, but an “empire,” that includes charitable foundations and potentially world-changing initiatives, Real is just what he says he is… nothing more nor less than the Real Thing.