Kehlani endured innumerable struggles and beat the odds “all before the age of even being able to buy a f—king drink at a bar,” as she said with her raspy, hushed voice in the “Intro” of her 2015 sophomore mixtape You Should Be Here.
She was raised by her aunt, who eventually adopted Kehlani, after her father died when she was a toddler and her mother served time in jail while struggling with drug addiction. She left PopLyfe, the Oakland-based teen pop band that finished in fourth place on America’s Got Talent in 2011, due to managerial and contractual issues. She stole iPhones straight out of people’s hands at train stations and sold them — and got banned from Walmart for stealing clothes and food — just to skate by, according to her 2015 Fader cover story. And she poured that grit and resilience that’s carried her throughout her entire life into her music.
In 2014, they independently released their critically acclaimed debut mixtape Cloud 19, which led to a label deal with Atlantic Records. By the time they were working on their follow-up project, they got to indulge in the one grown-up activity they hadn’t been able to before.
Then-19-year-old Kehlani still wasn’t “able to buy a f—king drink at a bar” in the U.S., but she could in Vancouver in British Columbia, Canada, where she went with her righthand producer Jahaan Sweet and photographer David Camarena. “I thought I was big shit because I was of legal age,” she tells Billboard, recalling her “first experience of being out of the country and working in an Airbnb and leaving the Airbnb to go get a drink at a bar and listen to the music walking down the street. [It was] this freeing feeling of this is what I can do as an artist. This is the kind of life I can have where I can get up and go, get inspiration and create in another place, and make art in this freeing way.”
On You Should Be Here, Kehlani navigates their romantic and familial relationships through the lens of a charming and vulnerable young woman taking her life by the reins – and a lifelong student of ‘90s R&B and neo-soul. The tape reassures her fans, known as the Tsunami Mob — as well as Kehlani herself — to never lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel, even when it seems incredibly dim. And her inextinguishable pursuit was rewarding as the spotlight shined even brighter on the burgeoning star.
You Should Be Here earned Kehlani their first top five project on Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums as well as their first Grammy nomination for best urban contemporary album. “I was told there hadn’t been a mixtape nominated for a Grammy, and if there was, then I was the first girl. It was a pivotal moment, any moment that lets you know that the level of how you believe in yourself is valid,” they says.
As part of Black Music Month, Billboard is celebrating the 10-year anniversary of You Should Be Here with Kehlani, discussing what the mixtape meant to them at the time of recording it, continuing to show love to Musiq Soulchild, feeling “haunted” by their videotaped reaction to their first Grammy nomination, and if they’ll ever bring back that one song that’s been removed.
What do you remember most about recording You Should Be Here?
How natural it was. Me and Jahaan were living together at the time in all these Airbnbs. We were in any living room we could find. That was such a crazy project because it was right after my first mixtape ever, which changed my life. It was me making music the first year out of my teenagehood and the first year of me cracking off as an artist. There was so much context in there of how that shaped my relationships, my view of the world, my young womanhood. That was in response to my life at the time.
Sweet produced six songs on the mixtape. What was your working relationship with him like at the time? Considering he later worked on your 2017 debut album SweetSexySavage, why was he such a crucial member of your inner creative circle?
We did a lot of Cloud 19 together. We did what I felt like was my first breakthrough song, “Get Away.” We both had this underdog feeling because when I met Jahaan, he was an assistant at a studio and I was there working with someone else. After the session ended, Jahaan came in the room and was like, “Hi, you don’t know me. I’m like the little guy here. I have a beat to play you if you’d be down to listen.” And I’m like, “Well, I’m a little guy. [Laughs.] Absolutely play me the beat.” And it ended up being my first breakout song.
We’ve just had that kindred relationship where we were really hungry and we felt like we had something to prove, but we also had chemistry where we’d finish each other’s musical sentences. He’d know what I’d want to do next and where I’d want to take it, and before I would even get a chance to do it, he would already be tweaking the beat to how I’d probably like it.
Around the time you released this mixtape, different publications were labeling you a “mindie” artist. Did that term resonate with you?
I kind of still, to this day, feel like a mindie artist. That’s nothing to do with the label, more to do with the era that I came up in. I was a part of the pre-streaming service [era]. You have to go hard for yourself. You can’t wait for a marketing strategy or rollout. It’s all about the relationship that you have with your fans personally, with no middleman. I’ve always operated in that way. My fanbase [grew] up with me, they feel like they know me, which is a double-edged sword in this day and age. We have a really deep connection where they feel proud to be here this long and every time a milestone happens, and they’re excited about things that are beyond where’s the next hit? Are the numbers moving in this kind of way? That comes from that mindie movement.
Light shines through as a key lyrical theme in You Should Be Here. You sing “So be great, be kind/ Don’t let them dim your light/ A woman like the sun should always stay bright” on “Bright.” And you sing, “Too damn strong/ To let you get the best of me/ Took way too long/ To find the light inside of me” on “N—as.” Why was that an important message for you to share with your fans on this mixtape?
I’ve dealt with chemical imbalance and mental illness my entire life, so it’s been up and down. Anybody with mental health issues knows how imperative that moment that your light returns is and how much of a big deal it is. It’s not, “I felt sad yesterday and I’m coming around today.” It’s these time periods where you do not feel like there’s any sort of light at the end of anything.
And when you finally get that back, the measures you take to ensure that it stays, whether your boundaries change or your routine changes or you have to let certain things or people go, it’s a big feat. That was the beginning of my life shifting in that way where I had to make those changes to prioritize the light that I found. Those were the first years of my life with stability and with control over my own life. Everything was shifting, and I finally had a grip on it. I just needed to protect it.
Speaking of “N—as,” you removed the track from all streaming services in 2023. Would you ever put it back on streaming for the fans who miss it?
At this point, I’m not really interested in bringing it back for myself. I’ve always said if there’s another artist who would like to put it out because people want the song in the world, I’d be more than happy to let another artist record it and let them have it. Other than that, at the time I took it down, I was being communally called in by people who felt offended by it, and I was abiding by what I feel like community care is, which is when you’re called in, you listen and you make a change. I try to keep my peace as much as possible, and I feel like re-putting it out on any platforms at this point would be another ignited thing beyond what my focus is at the moment.
You contributed background vocals to Chance the Rapper and The Social Experiment’s “Lady Friend” the same year you featured him on “The Way.” How did you two establish that relationship?
Me and Chance go back to that golden era of earlier music from our late teenagehood and early young adulthood where it was me, Chance, Bryson [Tiller], Jhené [Aiko], Tinashe. It was this early group of us that were still dropping things on SoundCloud. We were all tapped in with each other. We’re in that space of innovation is starting to happen, which I don’t know if we realized that at the time, but now I can look back and be like, “Oh, that was the beginning of certain ways that music moves now.” Me and Chance have always had a great friendship and continue to do so.
“Down For You,” featuring BJ The Chicago Kid, interpolates Musiq Soulchild’s “Just Friends (Sunny).” Four years later, you featured Musiq Soulchild on “Footsteps,” the opening track of While We Wait. How did you finesse that? Did you two ever talk about “Down For You”?
Oh, he knows I’m a fan. I not only interpolated him on that, but on the mixtape before, I quoted him. It went from quoting to interpolating to the feature. He’s always known from even the first moment. I don’t care about coming off like a fan to anybody in anything that I’m a fan of. [Laughs] I always was loudly like, “You’re my favorite. Growing up, you were my favorite. You’ll always be my favorite.” He knows very well. I will get down on the floor and bow to that man.
What was your favorite song from You Should Be Here in 2015, and is it still your favorite off the project a decade later?
“Jealous.” I just remember the excitement of discovering Lexii and how it was to hear Lexii for the first time on her SoundCloud. I remember being in a sprinter van with my manager and being like, “Yo, there’s this girl from Minnesota and she’s so hard. We need her on the album.” And she just knocked out that verse so quickly, and I just became a super Lexii Alijai stan because of it. To this day, it’s one of my favorites that I’ve done because of the energy that she brought to it. That is my favorite now because of sentimental reasons. Rest in peace, Lexii.
At the time, my favorite song was probably “You Should Be Here” because it felt like a declaration. I had just got out of my first adult relationship, and that person broke up with me because of the trajectory I was in and there were some issues around that. It felt like this big catalyst into, “Oh, this is shit is real.” And it awoken all the feelings of I really need to anaylze how my life is shifting.
You just turned 30 in April. If you could talk to the 19-going-on-20-year-old version of Kehlani who was making You Should Be Here, what would you tell them?
I would say your life’s about to change. The art that you’re making is going to have big cultural significance that gets a lot of people to relate to you because of your story, your upbringing, your background, your emotional journey. It’s going to bring a lot of those people who need it to the forefront, but also don’t take that on as your own. Lock in, focus on your relationship with God and perfect your craft. Take your time and have fun.
Once You Should Be Here came around, I was in go mode — and it was such a detrimental thing to my mental health, because life really took off after that. We got the Grammy nom, it started getting really psycho insane, and I spent a lot of years working myself to burn out — and taking on the fact that all these people were like, “You changed my life, You saved me.” It was a heavy weight to carry at 19, 20. I was also growing up in front of the world. So I would want to hear from myself now that I owed it to myself to really prioritize my mental well-being while I’m giving these things to the world.
You embarked on your first-ever solo headlining tour, the You Should Be Here Tour, after the tape dropped. But earlier that year, you went with G-Eazy on the second leg of his From the Bay to the Universe Tour. What lessons had you learned from that joint stint that helped you during your first solo run?
I will always thank G-Eazy for being the first person to take me on the road and open the lane for me like that. He’s so incredible, because he’s done that for almost every single Bay Area artist. Like, every Bay Area artist who has come out of the Bay that has been after his time, he’s brought on tour. He’s opened the door for all of us in that way. It was a very different tour than what an R&B tour would look like. It was very rock star. I’m like, “This what a tour bus is? This what backstage looks like? This some rock star s–t.” It allowed me to see the epicness before I had to go and take on all those responsibilities myself.
It’s different when you’re an opener. You just get to go on stage and then watch someone every night. I got to see what a show with production looked like, and a show that had a set and real lights. And then I went on my first tour, and I didn’t have any of those things — but it gave me something to look forward to and something to be excited about, like, “Oh, I can do this. This is possible.”
You earned your first-ever Grammy nomination with this mixtape. Do you remember how you felt when you found out?
What’s funny is I am so haunted by the video where I found out. There’s literally a video where I’m running around screaming outside of the tour bus. I think we were in Sweden. I had some acne [laughs] on my cheek, and I put tea tree oil on it, and I burnt the shit out of my face. So I’m sitting there holding my face while I just chemically burned it, and David [Ali] tells me the information, and I start losing my mind with the switch from “Holy s–t, I’m crying because I just burnt my face” to “Holy s–t, I’m crying because I’m nominated for a Grammy off of a f—king mixtape.” It was f—king hilarious.
I was told it hadn’t been done before that. I was told there hadn’t been a mixtape nominated for a Grammy, and if there was, then I was the first girl. It was a pivotal moment — any moment that lets you know that the level of how you believe in yourself is valid. I’m not big [on letting] any award validate how great your art is. But it’s nice when the system in place or the hierarchy of what you’re doing in art recognizes that what you’re doing is great. It feels good, even if you don’t believe in it.
What did You Should Be Here mean to you at the time of recording it, and looking back at your discography, what does You Should Be Here mean to you now?
At the time I recorded it, I was just a hungry 19-year-old trying to follow up the splash that my first project made, trying to get my emotions down, trying to explain myself, trying to get people to feel me. Looking back at it now, I’m grateful that I was down to bare myself in that way and I was down to be emotional and vulnerable. I’m grateful that it changed my life. It really did. It was the project that was the first change of my life as far as musical pivots, and there would be no project after that without what You Should Be Here opened up for me.
