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Shenseea’s not done experimenting with dancehall's pop future

Shenseea backstage during her headlining show at Webster Hall in New York City. 
Ryan Lockard
Shenseea backstage during her headlining show at Webster Hall in New York City. 

While most love summer for sweaty fun, high temps, low discernment and carefree pleasures, Shenseea has spent this season steady working. With 2024 being the year of the Dragon in the Asian lunar calendar — the matching creature that’s been the Jamaican artist’s longtime logo — it only makes sense that she’s come to claim it. Coming off the May release of her sophomore album, Never Gets Late Here, the “Hit & Run” singer has played festival stages and launched directly into her first headlining tour, all to keep up the momentum of a pivotal moment in her career and in Caribbean music. The West Indian sounds of reggae, dancehall and soca have infiltrated the U.S. in waves over the years, but as the Afrobeats movement dominates and K-Pop idols rewire standards of global stardom, Shenseea hopes to position herself as the definitive it girl of dancehall’s pop future.

Outside New York City’s Webster Hall, while a fiery crowd of Shenseea’s fandom, a.k.a. ShenYengz, wrap around East 11th Street and sidewalk chefs across the block load up their smokers with jerk chicken and ribs in anticipation for the post-concert let out, floorboards from subwoofer soundchecks vibrate me through the metal detector line and into back of house doorways. Once inside the greenroom, all sensory overload is muffled and the energy becomes still. This is where Shenseea, in a full glam and peach athleisure set, is centered, chilling and already mentally in show mode. “How I am in the media is definitely how I am in person. Probably even better coming from feedback that I've got from people who truly know me.”

A native of St. Elizabeth Parish, Shenseea grew up singing, dancing and painting, knowing from a young age she’d be an entertainer. Listening to Nicki Minaj and Rihanna inspired her as a Caribbean girl and instilled a work ethic to write her own music. At 19, while posting covers and freestyles on Facebook and working VIP bottle service to support her son, Shen quickly parlayed nightlife connections into musical ones. On her early singles “Jiggle Jiggle” and the Vybz Kartel-featuring “Loodi,” Shen grabbed fans with her presence, vocal tone and brashness and was positioned as a leader of the next generation of Jamaican dancehall. When listened to back to back, Shenseea likes to think of her discography — “Shen Yeng Anthem,” “The Sidechick Song” and “Rebel” — as a manual to teach the young girls not be a “man clown,” or a woman hopelessly fighting over or doing anything for a man. Her starpower and point of view translated well across borders, and when she signed with Interscope Records in 2019, she matched up with Stateside hip-hop artists like Tyga and Young Thug and electronic trio Major Lazer, pushing her talent beyond genre. She’s got Grammy nominations to her name as a featured artist, collabs with some of hip-hop’s most powerful artists (Kanye West, Megan Thee Stallion, Drake) and has broken records in the dancehall/reggae world.

Within the walls of Webster Hall, Shen blazes the stage, spitting slick-mouth lyrics with a nimble, anointed nerve. The sold-out crowd go word for word with her, as tapped in for her earliest loosies as they are for songs from her major label push. She pulls fans onstage for a wine-off and knows just how to transform their ripped tickets into memories of a full-out bashment. This is the snapshot of a following that can’t be manufactured. “They got attitude,” Shen laughs. “But I’m used to it, I like it. Not attitude in a bad way. Attitude like they know what they want — they know what they want to hear.”

Shenseea’s spent plenty of time listening, too. Though the 27-year-old’s 2022 major label debut, Alpha, entered Billboard’s reggae album charts at No. 2 and introduced her to the U.S. market in full, some longtime ShenYengz were vocal about feeling left behind in the midst of her pop crossover. As an artist, getting criticized for expanding beyond fan expectations has become a routine cog in the fame machine wheel. “I was wondering, why are people mad about going higher?” she says of the critique. Whether it was in a comments section or a music industry meeting, negativity and doubt started to cloud her thinking. “I was completely in depression. I felt very snappy, very miserable, almost anything that came around that was right for me, it didn't feel right because of the mind state I was in. I couldn't see the progress.”

Experimentation is essential for growth and your higher self is not confined by your current comfort zone. Realizing she wanted to take the scope of dancehall even higher, her follow-up, Never Gets Late Here gets comfortable with the growing pains.

Though the second LP has had a slower initial start than Alpha, it marks a creative fine-tuning and turning point for the ever-evolving artist. Never Gets Late Here boasts similar risk-taking and genre-jumping as her first, but these leaps land in a more authentic style, one that still satisfies the streets from which she rose. “Hit & Run” featuring Masicka and Di Genius, the album’s lead single, calls all her Day One ShenYengz home as a dancehall banger. The one-drop rhythms of “Neva Neva” and “Keep A Place” breeze by as love letters to her island. “Dolla” reimagines the Colin Lucas soca classic “Dollar Wine” with a cool-toned hip-hop and R&B delivery. Meanwhile, a link up with Brazilian pop Queen Anitta on “Red Flag” and the flirty audacity of “Work Me Out” featuring WizKid welcome her seamlessly into the Latin and Afropop spaces.

Beyonce’s 2011 album, 4, received initially mixed reaction for her commitment to traditional R&B during a singles-focused, pop peak in music. Two years later, Bey gave us her self-titled album, a record rich with 4’s thesis, only refined, perfected, industry-shifting. As Shenseea tries to similarly scale up her sound without forgetting her core, she says that calibration is almost where she wants it to be.

“A lot of people definitely could hear the progress from my first album into my second and it's definitely bigger, I’m proud of that. But I feel like up until now, it still hasn't connected the way I wanted it to connect,” she admits. Setting sights on her third album already, she grins, “Just look out for new music. We’re not stopping. As soon as tour is done, new music is coming.”

In an era where cosigns can be callous and streaming numbers can be manipulated to push performers onto certain stages they might not be ready for, Shenseea is not skipping steps. Her sold-out tour dates in mid-sized venues like Webster Hall show her movement is growing and unstoppable, a level of community that can’t be faked or forced by algorithms. The ShenYengz are there for the experiment and the experience.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.


Sidney Madden: Your first major label release, Alpha, which made history on the Billboard charts and helped you break in the States, also left some core ShengYeng fans feeling that you went very commercial, too commercial in the success and crossover. What was your initial reaction to that feedback, and how did you consider that feedback going into making your second album? 

Shenseea: I didn't really understand it, because I was wondering, "Why are people mad about going higher?" If anything, people should love to see the growth and want to be a part of the journey, if they were there from before, too. So I never understand the mindset, even up until now. I can't wrap my head around it, and I won't drive myself crazy, because I'm not the first artist that [fans] did it to, and I'm definitely not going to be the last.

If somebody else can come and change it, you know, kudos to them. But if it's gonna take too much of me to do so, I'm not gonna drive myself off the edge trying to do that. You know, Jesus already did that for all of us. I'm not gonna go to that extent of killing myself on a certain level, mentally, to even please the world.

I will never be one of those people who lose their self to gain fame. I've seen it way too much, and I think I was almost in that position just by going commercial, where I was around many different types of people, and I finally understood what it felt like to be like, to be like, "OK, this is what you have to give up your values and your principles to gain this." And I was like, "No, I can't do that."

If you were almost in that position, what moved you from it?

Just the feeling of depression and the anxiety and the pressure. I was feeling all that and I’m like, "I'm not gonna crack doing this. It doesn't make any sense." I’m the type of person I believe in true happiness for life. That is my end goal, true happiness and financial freedom. And if I'm not getting happiness with financial freedom, I don't want it. I'm good with just having a little as long as I'm happy, you know? So, once I feel myself going through it too much or like to the point where I'm going to break, I will quickly turn away because I'm not going to give up my true happiness for anything in life...last year I was completely in depression. I felt very snappy, very miserable, almost anything that came around that was right for me, it didn't feel right because of the mind state I was in. I couldn't see the progress definitely, completely mentally blocked, stopped writing everything, but I started coming back around myself last year December. At the end of the year, I was like, "I can't do this anymore. I got to go back to whatever it is that makes me happy."

I almost lost myself to the point where I had to find myself again. And doing that, it really helped me to be around the people who I came up with, like my core team, and going back to my roots. My country, my family, that really kept me in tune to get me back to myself. So yeah, that won't ever happen again.

/ Ryan Lockard
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Ryan Lockard

How does the production of Never Gets Late Here tell that story?

Even though I'm versatile, it's almost like it didn't really have a story put, like, in one concept. Of course, they're all me, but it still felt like a bit all over the place. You know, I should have learned so much more from my first album, of curating that album, but the second time was really different and more difficult, because, of course, you're trying to make it surpass the first. As always, we're always trying to, you know, look for progress in our second album, but I just tell myself that now, going to my third album, I'm like, "What was the pressure even for? This s*** is stupid!" It's just making great music. Like, who's telling me that I have to do this and I have to do that? It's total foolishness. So, I think that the third album is definitely going to be my best album because nobody can tell me anything, because I've tried one time where the pressure is on and then the second time where the pressure is on of beating the first the third time is like, nigga it's whatever. Now, it's my art, and I'm gonna do whatever I want.

But the second album feels like it’s getting closer because it’s experimentation with a calibration to it. 

Yeah, and that's what it was because you can definitely hear the progress. A lot of people definitely could hear the progress from my first album into my second and it's definitely bigger, I’m proud of that. But I feel like up until now, it still hasn't connected the way I wanted it to connect, because I, myself, was hardly even there making this type of music, because it's so different that I'm having the pressure on it's like, "OK, I'm here, but I'm not really here," you know? Thanks be to God a couple of songs did connect, though. But I wanted the whole entire project to be digested. But if I have to be honest, it would have been kind of impossible to do so because I know myself and the mental state that I was in, it would have been like no.

I don't even know how I did it. Most of the songs that are on the album, I've been did them from the years. It's just like, "What was I sitting down here waiting on? I could have been dropped this album."

How is the experimentation different on this one album, Never Gets Late Here, versus Alpha?

I would say the difference is we worked with more authentic producers. Instead of one producer trying to mask the production of different cultures, we've actually had people from different cultures and different genres coming in to work on the project in person. So, like London on da Track doing like R&B or rap vibes. And Rvssian, who is authentic with dancehall, Di Genius who is authentic with dancehall and Supa Dups, who is a dancehall legend producer. We've had more people authentically working on the project now. And we had a producer who is very experienced in Afrobeats, and the mixer himself, he's experienced with mixing Afrobeats because he did like, “Essence” with Tems and stuff. So when I say we really went to the people who know their stuff to do these songs, like, that's what we did.

“Work Me Out” featuring WizKid is the latest single off the album and it’s moving. Have you and WizKid talked about the growing pains of jumping across genres?

When I spoke to him, he reminded me of myself. Like, he got it. He knew about branching out. He knew about wanting more for the culture — he wants so much for Africa — and wanting more for himself and just doing it for the love of music. That's what I think even brought us closer together as peers. Like, his mom passed, my mom passed, so we were completely in sync when we met. So yeah, he definitely reminds me of myself. He's definitely in my top five of close artist friends now.

I do love Afrobeats, and I love their artists, because they show me so much love throughout the years. You know, they were the ones who really blew up “Hit & Run” on a different level. Like in Kenya. I'm so excited to go there this year. But they've always shown me so much love, so it's hard not to love them, you know. And then our genre, with Afrobeats and dancehall and reggae, almost like we're cousins. We’re really similar.

Being cousins, what is inspiring you about the Afrobeats movement now that you want your own kin in Jamaica to emulate?

The unity. I think Afrobeats is moving now because they've unified. So even like a Burna Boy, you will hear and feature like a Wizkid, or, like a Davido featuring another top artist. In my culture, we hardly find that, which I think is the problem because if we as artists aren't unifying together, then the people won't unify either, you know? I think that has always been dancehall's biggest obstacle: not moving as one.

The release of Vybz Kartel from prison was met with so much excitement. Do you feel like that could be a part of a turning of the tide for unifying dancehall?

Oh, 1000 per cent! I think that's what the culture needed if you ask me. His fan base and his impact was, and still is, insane. I was so inspired by Vybz Kartel growing up as well. He's the reason why I write the type of dancehall music I write, too. It's hard to deny his impact. He calls himself the teacher, and he really is. So I think that everything is happening at the right time with me being here, Vybz Kartel coming out. It just feels like things are moving. And as I said, I alone couldn't do it. So, I’m with it.

You are very mindful about progression and the process of it. And you speak so much about the growing pains of progression and building your legacy. There's a quote I want to read back to you from earlier this year: “What I've learned is, you're going to come on the scene, they're going to be not so sure about you. You're going to prove yourself, then they're gonna love you, then hate you after. But if you can get through the hate, they're gonna love you forever” So what stage are you at right now in that process?

Oh, they're gonna love me forever now. Because “Hit & Run.” Before that, I was in the stage of them hating me like they're tired. "Shenseea’s disappointment." Nothing that I do was right, but since “Hit & Run” everybody's just like, "OK, she's not going anywhere." And that's where I am now. Now it's just like, you have to respect me, and that's just it.

But what I do commend myself for is not just fighting with the public, because I don't think you would ever win. When you're in that space as an artist where it feels like everybody hates you, there's nothing you can go there and say to defend yourself, it's always going to be a war. And if you allow yourself to go out and do that, then they will constantly pick at you and to use more against you. So it's definitely a space where you're going to be emotional. And at the end of the day, even though you're an artist, it's still a business, and emotions don't work well with business, so when you're in that space, just shut up.

But how did it feel seeing and hearing all that knowing you had one in the chamber with “Hit & Run”?

Honestly, I myself didn't even know that it was one in the chamber. people thought that I was finished with dancehall, but I always had dancehall music. I was just exploring publicly. So they felt like, ‘Oh the core is completely gone.’ But that was never the case. I guess my advice is, don't explore in public [Laughs] Or you can do it, but don't tell them that you're doing it, because obviously when you're experimenting, you're never sure about something, because you don't know if it's gonna work or not. Don't let it be known that you don't know what you're doing.

See, I think you make a great case for experimenting and exploring in public.

Yeah, but that's if you have one in the chamber! If God blesses you to have one in the chamber. Because, as I said, I did not even know that that song would blow up the way it did. Honestly speaking, I had it all this time, but I released it in January because I started to get back my mind frame in December. That's why I chose to release that song first. I said, listen, knowing the person that I am reconnecting with my true self, this is the one that's supposed to go out first, and we released it, and boom. So I would just say, just never lose yourself, because as an artist, if it's not you, it will never work.

Copyright 2024 NPR

Sidney Madden is a reporter and editor for NPR Music. As someone who always gravitated towards the artforms of music, prose and dance to communicate, Madden entered the world of music journalism as a means to authentically marry her passions and platform marginalized voices who do the same.