Why We Will Hear About RAYE Again

The mix of old soul and pop, the complex and painful themes, the conflicts with the industry, the talent: profile of the singer who won six BRIT Awards, establishing herself as the artist of the year.

One might be tempted, with a fraction of populism and an equal measure of bad faith, to recount Raye’s triumphal march at the BRIT Awards by emphasizing her third path to success: her status as an independent artist in the most sensational sense. In 2021, Rachel Agatha Keen, better known as RAYE, became the protagonist of a controversial rift with Polydor, the major label that held her under contract.

At the time, she asserted that the label did not consider her capable of releasing an album “of her own,” instead redirecting her best songs to “A-list artists” and compelling her to release single after single, primarily as a vocalist on dance tracks. This conceptual map may invoke James Blake’s declarations regarding the relationship between artists and the industry, concluding with a rhetorical question about the potentially gangrenous nature of the major label system and a paternalistic invitation to artists to resist submitting to specific dynamics.

However, such an approach would be unfair for at least two reasons. First, the premises and conclusions would be false and unfounded, as RAYE represents an exception akin to those that have existed throughout history and will continue to arise. She should be distinct from a flaw in the system or the fuse of a revolution. RAYE is an immensely talented artist who, thanks partly to her experience with Polydor, has cultivated a significant base. During her contract period with the major label, she had the opportunity to collaborate with international artists such as David Guetta, open concerts for Halsey, and achieve notable positions on both British and international charts.

She was able to go all-in at the opportune moment, achieving a success that will likely prove to be both worldwide and enduring. Simultaneously, she enjoys the image dividend that the musical community reserves for those who succeed in freeing themselves from the industry’s fire-eaters without sacrificing their positions, as well as the absolute artistic freedom that allowed her, among other things, to publish her excellent My 21st Century Blues after a seven-year wait, as she mentions in the final track of the album. The only underlying lesson, if any, is that labels should place greater trust in the artistic choices of their singers, but this is an age-old debate that will, at most, receive a good-natured nudge from the RAYE affair.

The second reason is that RAYE’s music merits a more profound consideration, as beneath the veneer of a super popstar who undoubtedly has her sights set on the world of charts and awards, there are notable stratifications that go hand in hand with what the singer herself represents within the musical landscape. RAYE is a Generation Z girl who grew up listening to both trap and American classics, bearing a resemblance, particularly in appearance, to Amy Winehouse. From trap and her age, she inherited the themes and the flow; from the American classics and Amy Winehouse, she derived her approach to performance, the more soulful traits of her voice, the arrangements of her songs, and her fascination with representation.

The album, crowned as album of the year at the BRIT Awards, is set within the confines of an imaginary blues club in London. A presenter announces the entrance of the “wonderful RAYE” onto the stage, who subsequently appears in the following song before commencing with the actual musical offerings. While this diegetic and conceptual framework is undeniably simple and has numerous similar precedents, it contextualizes the singer as a character within her album while simultaneously declaring her artistic background: the soul/R&B that finds its roots in nightclubs. From this point forward, the narrative pact should ensure that listeners imagine the album as being performed, in a certain sense, by this “character” RAYE—the singer hired for an evening at the fictitious 21st Century Blues Club—in a manner reminiscent of Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

On stage, RAYE’s two souls are on full display. On the one hand, the singer exhibits the entire vocabulary of Generation Z and the American trap era, touching upon themes such as codeine, alcohol, psychotropic drugs, weapons, “generic” and environmental anxiety, body dysmorphia, and testimonies of empirical feminism. On the other hand, she indulges in more “ancient” moments, replete with “my man,” sweet Mary Janes, and gnomic sentences that harken back to the world of American classics and anonymous ballads that have become standards in the golden years of jazz. In essence, the blues and the twenty-first century converge.

That said, the album’s overall focus appears somewhat diffuse. A fairly recognizable sonic center of gravity exists, showcased in songs like “Oscar Winning Tears,” “Hard Out Here,” and the song of the year, “Escapism,” which features a collaboration with 070 Shake. However, some songs deviate entirely from the original mix of post-trap and R&B soul, which constitutes the true musical legacy of this album. In other words, certain songs have little to do with the overarching theme. This deviation is welcomed in some cases, such as “Mary Jane” and “The Thrill Is Gone,” as both songs almost philologically contribute to the overall discussion.

“Mary Jane,” for instance, is a blues ballad that explicitly pays homage to the classics while addressing contemporary topics like codeine, red wine, and other drugs. “The Thrill Is Gone,” on the other hand, is an old-fashioned funk/R&B record that echoes the atmosphere of James Brown. In other cases, such as the house joke of “Black Mascara,” the impression is more of a misstep.

There is no doubt that RAYE has emerged as the artist of the year. Compared to the other candidates, which include Arlo Parks, Central Cee, Dave, Dua Lipa, Fred Again, J Hus, Jessie Ware, Little Simz, and Olivia Dean, Raye stands out as the one who has had the most significant musical impact. Despite the missteps mentioned above, she has brought something new to the table while reaching a vast audience. Moreover, she most naturally embodies the type of artist capable of representing her generation, a requirement that is highly valued when bestowing awards of this nature. Born in 1997 in Tooting, south London, to an English father and a Swiss-Ghanaian mother, RAYE was admitted to the prestigious Brit School but abandoned her studies after two years. From that point forward, her career as a singer commenced, characterized by great hits of little value until her breakup with Polydor and the advent of the 21st Century Blues Club. On July 14th, she will perform for the first time in Italy at Umbria Jazz.

RAYE’s propensity for insubordination, her ability to give voice to complex and painful issues, her embodiment of the idea of redemption through music, and her innate charisma, coupled with her undeniable talent, make her a role model of her kind, deserving of such recognition. With six awards received in a single edition, surpassing the achievements of Blur and Harry Styles, RAYE has made history at the Brit Awards. Undoubtedly, we will be discussing her for a long time to come.