Anniversaries: Born to Do It by Craig David

Craig David’s contemporaries may have had the writing on the wall, but with Born to Do It, he wrote his own chapter in music history, and boy, did he write it in style.

Courtesy of Wildstar Records Limited.

At the turn of the millennium, popular music was at a crossroads. In the United States, R&B acts like Destiny’s Child and Brandy were ruling the airwaves with silky harmonies and hip-hop-infused soul, while cutting-edge producers such as Timbaland and Rodney “Darkchild” Jerkins were reinventing the genre’s sound with futuristic beats. Meanwhile, in the UK, the underground club scene was incubating its own revolution. The late ‘90s had seen trip-hop and jungle blaze through clubs, and now a fresh London-bred style, 2-step garage, was bubbling up from the pirate radios and dancefloors. DJs and producers like MJ Cole and the duo Artful Dodger were infusing shuffling house rhythms with R&B vocals, pushing UK garage from the “grimy” underground toward mainstream visibility. It was in this exciting cultural moment that a 19-year-old singer-songwriter from Southampton, Craig David, emerged with an album that perfectly synthesized these currents. He drew on everything from neo-soul’s mellow groove to new jack swing’s uptempo funk, from the atmospheric haze of trip-hop to the kinetic skip of garage, all while honoring classic R&B songcraft.

As a teen, he built his chops MCing on UK garage tracks and notably lent his smooth voice to Artful Dodger’s 1999 club smash “Re-Rewind (The Crowd Say Bo Selecta).” That track, with its twitchy two-step beat, memorable “bo selecta” hook and David’s youthful, sweet-as-honey vocals, hit No.2 on the UK chart and announced David as the new star of the burgeoning garage sound. Rather than ride the garage wave, however, David had grander ambitions. He was as much a disciple of American R&B as of UK club music, a crate-digger who grew up on his parents’ Stevie Wonder records and ‘90s slow jams. On Born to Do It, recorded with producer Mark Hill (one half of Artful Dodger), David set out to “bridge the gap” between the groove-heavy garage beats of his come-up and the smooth R&B melodies he loved. This was an album that felt both utterly of its time and refreshingly ahead of its time, an album that helped define the 2-step era even as it paid homage to R&B’s past.

“Fill Me In,” the album’s lead single and opening track, burst onto the airwaves in spring 2000 and immediately locked in a generation. Built on a skittering 2-step rhythm and staccato acoustic guitar chords, the song is as inventive as it is infectious. David’s vocals glide and flutter over the syncopated beats with ease, at times racing ahead of the track and then pulling back into silky runs. It told a relatable story that set it apart from typical R&B fare: a teenage romance conducted under watchful parental eyes. “Why were you creeping ‘round late last night/Why did I see two shadows moving in your bedroom light?” David croons in the opening lines, channeling the suspicious voice of a girlfriend’s father.

As dialed down the BPM and leaned more into classic R&B without abandoning the contemporary twist, “7 Days” was the smooth follow-up that cemented David’s hitmaker status. The track rides a slinky midtempo groove—warm bass, gentle percussion and a touch of Spanish guitar filigree in the background. It’s a seductive, laid-back backdrop for one of the most memorable lyrical conceits of the era: David’s day-by-day account of a romantic week. “I met this girl on Monday/Took her for a drink on Tuesday,” he sings in a playful sing-song melody, “We were making love by Wednesday, and on Thursday and Friday and Saturday… we chilled on Sunday.” This cheeky chronology of a whirlwind fling is delivered with a wink, a bit of humble-brag in the narrating of how quickly things escalate, yet couched in such a catchy, innocuous chorus that it comes off as charming rather than crass. David’s penchant for run-on lyrics in the verses gives the narrative a sense of urgency; he half-raps, half-sings through the days, squeezing in details as if breathless with excitement, then he eases back on the chorus with that earworm melody.

Beyond its blockbuster singles, Born to Do It proved to be a remarkably cohesive and versatile album. Craig David and producer Mark Hill sequenced a record that flows like a night out followed by the reflective morning after. After the one-two punch of the opening hits, the album eases the tempo with sultry slow-burners that showcase David’s romantic side. “Follow Me,” for instance, is a teasing slow-jam that finds David slipping into the role of seducer. Over a slinky, late-night groove, he beckons a lover with promises of intimacy; the track’s deep bass bumps and delicate keyboard pads wouldn’t sound out of place on a D’Angelo or Maxwell album, cementing its neo-soul kinship. On “Last Night” and “Rendezvous,” the vibe remains seductive and smooth. “Last Night” rides a sliding groove with a subtle 2-step undercurrent, while “Rendezvous” glows with candlelit atmosphere, a twinkling keyboard here, a fluttering hi-hat there, as David sets the scene for an intimate encounter. These tracks recall the loverman tones of US R&B stalwarts like Usher or Ginuwine, yet David’s voice, youthful and earnest, gives them a fresh-faced charm. He was only twenty when singing these songs, but there’s a confidence and polish in his delivery that belies his age. The album allows him to stretch out vocally on these slower cuts, cooing in falsetto one moment and dipping into a raspy whisper the next, fully in command of the seductive persona he’s crafting.

David’s debut never forgets its dancefloor roots, peppering the tracklist with club-ready jams that keep the energy from ever sagging. Mid-album, David reminds us that even the smoothest crooner can get bodies moving. “Time to Party” is exactly what its title suggests, a bouncy, feel-good anthem celebrating Friday-night freedom. Built on peppy two-step percussion and a catchy call-and-response hook, it’s an innocent celebration of clubbing that bottles the carefree spirit of a night out with your crew. In the same vein, “Can’t Be Messin’ Around” kicks off with staccato horn stabs and a shuffling beat, as David delivers a cautionary tale about staying true to his girlfriend despite the temptations around him. “She’s the one I’m committed to,” he insists in the lyrics, fending off an interloper “wanting me to hold her oh so tightly”. It’s an interesting flip side to the album’s many flirtations; here, David positions himself as the faithful guy who won’t stray, adding a note of morality to the mix. Musically, the track is a garage banger through and through, with a driving bassline and chopped-up rhythm that nods to the genre’s jungle and house ancestry.

One track on the album that often sparks debate among fans is the playful “Bootyman.” Nestled toward the latter half of the album, “Bootyman” is an upbeat, cheeky number that shows David loosening up and having a bit of fun, perhaps a bit too much fun, in hindsight. Over a bouncy, almost folky acoustic guitar riff and a bumping beat, David boasts about his irresistible charm, dubbing himself the “bootyman” as he promises to sweep a girl off her feet. The song brims with tongue-in-cheek bravado and even veers into silly territory by riffing on childhood rhymes. In one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, David literally counts off “1, 2, buckle my shoe,” cheekily flipping the nursery rhyme to fit his romancing narrative. He also drops a nod to Willy Wonka’s “The Candy Man” song – a fitting reference, perhaps, given that Born To Do It’s very title was inspired by a Willy Wonka quote. And, as if those weren’t enough period-specific quirks, “Bootyman” even finds Craig spelling out his website in the lyrics (“Double you double you double you dot C-D dot com”), a true year-2000 time capsule moment when having a personal dot-com was the height of cool. All these “of-the-moment” touches, while endearing, mean “Bootyman” now lands as the album’s most dated offering.

The true soul of Born to Do It reveals itself in its quieter, more introspective moments. After all the club hopping and flirtation, Craig David closes out the album by baring a more vulnerable side. Nowhere is this more evident than on “Walking Away,” the gentle, acoustic-tinged ballad that became the album’s third single. Coming near the end of the tracklist, “Walking Away” is a deliberate downshift, the quiet moment that stops you in your tracks. Over a mellow guitar strum, soft chords, and a simple toe-tapping beat, David delivers a heartfelt message about leaving behind drama in search of peace. “I’m walking away from the troubles in my life, I’m walking away to find a better day,” goes the gospel-tinged refrain, repeated with a kind of relieved conviction. It’s a breakup song, but one devoid of spite; instead, David sounds reflective and hopeful, prioritizing self-care over bitterness. He resists any urge for showy vocal gymnastics here; no elaborate runs or rapid-fire lyrics. Instead, he adopts a straightforward, earnest tone, letting the sincerity of the words connect with the listener. This restraint showcases David’s maturity as a songwriter. By not over-singing, he allows the melody and sentiment to shine, and in doing so crafts a universal anthem about knowing when to move on.

From a production standpoint, Born to Do It was lauded for its pristine polish and genre-blending finesse. In crafting the album, Craig David and Mark Hill managed to fuse the sleek, radio-ready R&B aesthetic with the syncopated rhythms of UK garage in a way that felt organic. The album’s beats were electro-rouged two-step grooves comparable to the work of new jack swing pioneer Teddy Riley and futurist Timbaland—yet the sound here was distinct in how it struck a balance between traditional pop/R&B sensibilities and modern club flash. It layers on just enough modern production sparkle—the crisp drum programming, the occasional DJ scratch or backspin, the stylish use of the then-state-of-the-art effects—without ever obscuring the classic song structures underneath. Many tracks feature strong acoustic elements (guitar riffs, piano lines) interwoven with the electronic beats, grounding the songs in melody even as the percussion twitches and skips. This approach gives the record a warmth and musicality sometimes lacking in club-oriented projects. As a result, the album felt as comfortable on a home stereo or car radio as it did on a nightclub soundsystem. The overall mix is smooth and unified, thanks in part to Hill’s guiding hand and David’s co-writing on every track. You can hear the freedom and focus they had in the studio—they were crafting this project before any major label execs were involved, which Hill later said allowed them to follow their instincts and finish songs exactly as they envisioned. That artistic freedom paid off richly.

Born to Do It still sounds remarkably fresh, even as certain lyrics or production flourishes date it to its era. The core of the album, its melodies, its stories, and that golden voice at the center, remains as enjoyable as ever. The best tracks have aged into modern classics that continue to draw new listeners and inspire nostalgic singalongs. These songs captured a universality, young love, weekend excitement, and the sting of breakup, in such a stylish package that they transcend the year 2000. When those opening notes of “Fill Me In” play, or when Craig launches into “I met a girl on Monday…,” it instantly transports anyone who lived through that era back to those days, yet still feels catchy to someone hearing it for the first time today. The album’s influence is also evident in how artists across the spectrum have paid homage. Born to Do It created a template for blending rap-inflected beats with melodic R&B vocals that many later artists would emulate. Global superstar Ed Sheeran and electronic duo Disclosure have both reminisced about bumping the album in their youth and crediting it for inspiring them. Sheeran has brought Craig David on stage and into the studio in recent years, a full-circle moment for a kid who once idolized him. Even newer American R&B talents like Khalid have reached out. In 2020, Khalid invited David to contribute ad-libs on a track, openly acknowledging the debt owed to Craig’s smooth 2000s flavor.

Yet for all its impact, Born to Do It is also very much an album of its time, and that’s part of its charm. Those “circa 2000” moments—the slang, the references to answering machines or website URLs, the wide-eyed earnestness in its approach to romance—peek through here and there, giving the record a nostalgic tint. Rather than undermine it, these dated details endear the album to us; they remind us just how fully it captures the spirit of its era. The late ‘90s/early ’00s were a unique juncture when UK club culture and mainstream pop were converging, and Craig David was right there at the intersection, a consummate 19-year-old whose talent made that fusion seem effortless. There’s a reason why this debut is often held up as a cultural touchstone in early-2000s UK R&B: it brought the underground to the mainstream, and in doing so, it validated a whole scene. The music within sounded like the work of a young man utterly in his element, fusing styles and riding beats as naturally as breathing. He was born to do it, and he did it with a finesse and flair that left a mark.

In the grand tradition of classic debuts, it announced a new artist with a bold voice and vision, one that we’re still grooving to all these years later. Craig David’s contemporaries may have had the writing on the wall, but with Born to Do It, he wrote his own chapter in music history, and boy, did he write it in style.