KELIS with SON LITTLE at the Hoxton (69 Bathurst), Wednesday (June 11), 8 pm. $25-$35. TM.
“I wanted to be a master of something,” R&B singer Kelis tells me over the phone from L.A., her deep, husky voice sounding exactly as it does on her latest, retro-inspired record.
But she isn’t talking about music. She’s referring to her other love: cooking. As well as being a pop star, Kelis recently trained as a saucier at Le Cordon Bleu culinary school.
“Sauce is like a woman’s accessory. Meat is just meat, vegetables are just vegetables, but it’s the sauce that tells you who the chef is, what the culture is, where you are. What it is. It defines everything.”
She doesn’t, however, take the same perfectionist approach to music.
“Music is something that I naturally do well, and something that I’ve done so long, it’s just part of my personality.”
That may explain why the artist has successfully attacked so many different genres. While they varied in levels of experimentalism, her early records were Neptunes-produced, radio-ready R&B for the most part. In 2010 she released Flesh Tone, a distinctly dance album.
Her sixth, Food (Ninja Tune), is completely different again, combining soul, funk and Afrobeat with plenty of warm horns. It even features an acoustic, Simon & Garfunkel-evoking Labi Siffre cover.
Recording in producer Dave Sitek’s home, the two came by the decidedly groovy mood naturally. “We didn’t have plans on doing a whole album,” says Kelis. “But the next thing we knew, I didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want me to go. The (sound) wasn’t planned. It just came out this way – maybe just because I am calm and at peace with my life.”
Then there’s the epicurean theme: the record’s name the song titles (Jerk Ribs, Cobbler, Friday Fish Fry, Biscuits N’ Gravy) the opening to the record, where Kelis’s young son, Knight, says “Hey, guys, are you hungry? My mom made food.”
The songs, though, aren’t exactly literal. Just like her signature hit Milkshake off her 2003 album, Tasty, you quickly get the idea that Kelis is singing metaphors.
“The names were in there as working titles. It wasn’t even something we talked about or took seriously,” she says. “I was around food all the time. I was always cooking, people were always cooking. It just came together on its own.”
julial@nowtoronto.com | @julialeconte
