Anniversaries: Miss Thang by Monica

Miss Thang plays like the work of a young artist exuberantly fluent in the language of ‘90s R&B, yet already possessing the vocal authority of a seasoned pro.

Courtesy of Rowdy Records.

Discovered by Dallas Austin at an Atlanta talent show when she was only 12, Monica was quickly signed to his Rowdy roster and mentored in the studio; Austin became a guiding tutor and de facto father figure, shuttling the young vocalist from school to evening recording sessions. With Arista Records titan Clive Davis overseeing from afar, Austin was determined to keep Monica’s music authentic to her Atlanta roots and teen perspective, even if it meant pushing back against industry conventions. Notoriously, when Davis questioned the slang in her first single’s title and the lack of a traditional bridge, Austin held firm: “I said, ‘That’s not what we say in the environment. We say it’s one of dem days,’” he laughed, defending the song’s colloquial tone. This early resolve set the stage for Miss Thang to deliver streetwise R&B attitude with pop savvy, mirroring the mid-‘90s moment when hip-hop’s grit was melding with urban soul melodicism in mainstream R&B.

When “Don’t Take It Personal (Just One of Dem Days)” comes on, Monica announces herself with a low, head-turning contralto that is startling coming from a 14-year-old. Built atop a thunderous Jeep-friendly beat (sampling LL Cool J’s “Back Seat (Of My Jeep)” for maximum bottom end), the track pairs its booming hip-hop drums with Monica’s coolly introspective vocal delivery. She inhabits the lyrics, a teenage girl’s plea for space during a moody day, with a laid-back but self-assured tone, at once sultry and vulnerable. In an era when R&B was embracing hip-hop’s edge, it was “pretty gutsy” (as one retrospective put it) for Rowdy/Arista to lead off with a song explicitly about “enforcing personal boundaries when you’re on your monthly cycle.” More importantly, it established the blueprint of Miss Thang: hip-hop soul with a fiercely real point of view, similar to Mary J. Blige. And like Blige, Monica wasn’t afraid to show some attitude. “When I did ‘Don’t Take It Personal’… I got her. I understood her attitude,” Dallas Austin reflected, noting that Monica’s sassy, around-the-way disposition was exactly what would connect with “a lot of girls… with an attitude that’s a little frustrated, a little ghetto.”

Issued as the follow-up single (in a double A-side with the bouncy “Like This and Like That”), “Before You Walk Out of My Life” revealed a different side of her who can deliver depth and soul that belied her youth, which is wistful, romantic, and bittersweet. In fact, it had originally been penned by Andrea Martin and produced by Soulshock & Karlin for Toni Braxton’s Secrets album. When Toni didn’t record it, the song found its destiny with Monica, who imbued it with a tender sincerity that arguably only a fresh young voice could. Over a velvety, quiet-storm groove—all gently cascading keys and shuffling R&B beats—Monica laments the impending loss of a lover, striving to “say goodbye the right way” before it’s too late. Her vocal performance is remarkably emotive: she layers sweet, pleading phrases with flashes of the streetwise swagger heard in her ad-libs, effortlessly mixing sugar and spice in her harmonies. On the flip side of that double single was “Like This and Like That,” a playful midtempo jam that brought Monica’s sass front and center. If the ballads showcased her maturity, this track reasserted her youthful energy, albeit with a measure of grown-up confidence, warning her noncommittal boyfriend, “If you want to be with me, you gotta make your move—I can’t wait around, I’m gonna move along!”

Monica’s precocious artistry reaches a powerful climax when she tackles “Let’s Straighten It Out,” a cover of Latimore’s 1974 bluesy R&B classic, reimagined as a duet with a then-up-and-coming Usher Raymond. It’s a bold choice for a debut album, essentially, two teenagers pouring their hearts into a slow, sensual adult duet about a couple ironing out their problems over a late-night talk. The astonishing poise Monica demonstrated across Miss Thang was no accident. From the outset, she was determined to create music that reflected her lived experiences and convictions, rather than a prefab teen-star script. “I was very assertive in making sure the album was really me,” Monica later revealed, reflecting on her debut. “How can you show your feeling in a song when it’s about something you don’t know about?” This self-possession earned her the nickname “Miss Thang” in the first place. As Monica tells it, Dallas Austin would bring in songs from various producers, and the young singer didn’t hesitate to speak up if a tune didn’t feel right. “I’d be quick to say ‘No’ if I didn’t feel it. I knew who I was and what I wanted to say. That’s where Miss Thang came from. He’d say, ‘Miss Thang don’t like it!’” Monica recalled those early studio sessions.

The moniker, a Southern term of endearment for a sassy young lady who knows her mind, could not be more fitting. Throughout the album, Monica moves with a confidence that can intimidate or inspire those around her. Whether she’s delivering a feisty kiss-off on the title track or embracing vulnerability on a ballad, there’s a through-line of authenticity: a teen girl navigating love and life on her terms. Yet, for all its precocious swagger, Miss Thang wisely balances its themes to reflect a 14-year-old’s reality. Monica’s producers (many hand-picked from Austin’s ATL-based camp, including Tim & Bob and Arnold Hennings provided age-appropriate jams like “Skate,” a throwback funk roller-skating anthem, and “Angel,” a mid-tempo pledge of abstinence in the vein of Janet Jackson’s “Let’s Wait Awhile.” These album cuts, along with slow-burning deep cuts like “Never Can Say Goodbye” and the acoustic quiet storm closer “Forever Always,” helped round out the portrait of a young woman with both a street edge and a big heart.

Upon its release, Miss Thang earned Monica a rare trifecta for a new artist: critical acclaim, commercial success, and cultural influence. The album went triple platinum in the U.S., yielding four hit singles and establishing Monica as a dominant presence on R&B radio throughout 1996, which is crazy considering she’s underappreciated today. Monica showed that a teenager from College Park could bring both youthful freshness and grown sophistication to R&B, without gimmicks or apologies. Listening to the album now, over twenty-five years later, one is struck by how well it holds up. The beats still bang, the ballads still tug the heart, and that voice, that voice, still commands attention. Miss Thang is a cornerstone of ‘90s R&B that affirmed how age ain’t nothing but a number when you’ve got the talent, attitude, and soul Monica brought to the table. Confident, mature, and undeniably heartfelt, Miss Thang remains a remarkable opening statement, the sound of a young woman claiming her place and daring the world to underestimate her at its peril. Miss Thang, for sure.