‘I used to sing in front of In-N-Out Burger’: Victoria Monét’s long road to pop stardom | Pop and rock

Victoria Monét, it’s safe to say, has left her songwriter-to-the-stars era behind and graduated to pop stardom. When we meet in the London offices of her record label, Sony, she is immaculately formed: long, poker-straight blond hair runs down to her stiletto-heeled boots, and she is flanked by makeup and hair stylists touching up her look at random intervals.

The week before we speak, the 34-year-old received seven Grammy nominations, making her the second most-nominated artist of the year. Waving off jetlag and hunger pangs amid a flurry of press appearances (the food brought in by team members remains politely untouched), she is still beaming in the wake of meeting one of her heroes the night before: Janet Jackson. “It feels like Christmas,” Monét says in the soft-spoken voice of a Disney princess. “God is showering me with blessings right now.” Not least her two-year old daughter, who she always makes time for in among her gruelling schedule.

Although Monét presents as a new star, she has been in the industry for some time, an experienced songwriter who has spent more than a decade writing for an enviable list of industry talent: Selena Gomez and Blackpink, Chloe x Halle, Brandy. Monét also has a hand in a fair chunk of Ariana Grande’s catalogue, including hit singles 7 Rings, 34+35 and Thank U, Next. But what has nudged her into solo stardom is her debut album, Jaguar II, and its headline song On My Mama, a salute to women who came before her, that captured listeners with its full-bodied horns and irresistible swagger. Her music is the sum of a dynamic blend of influences, particularly 70s Motown, filtered through delectable pop-R&B. Lyrically it’s a celebration of womanhood, maturity, sexual confidence and an effort to “span all of the different possibilities of how women think and feel”.

“Growing up, it was: ‘Cross your legs, sit up straight, don’t say pussy,’” she says. “Some of the themes in the album are often reflected in men’s music. I wanted to show that women talk about, express and feel these things, too.” She is as spellbinding on stage as she is on record, conveying themes with the same skill and apparent ease, though her secret is simple: a behind-the-scenes work ethic that goes back years. Monét’s formidable breath control comes from hours of rehearsal a day, including singing on treadmills. “To be nominated for best new artist says a lot, because I’m new, but I’m not,” she says. “I’ve just been working on it for a really long time.”

Born Victoria Monét McCants, she grew up an only child in Sacramento, California. Shy and observant, she says she was something of a “sponge” for the diverse music played by her extended family. Her grandparents gave her a taste for the oldies; the classic Motown of the Temptations, preppy musicals such as The Sound of Music and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. From her mother came more modern sounds: the dancehall of Buju Banton, Elvis Crespo’s merengue music and the raucous Miami bass of Uncle Luke.

Monét trained in dance groups from her preteens, and soon began writing her own music. At 18, dreams of moving to LA became an “obsession”; she balanced jobs at a bank and an electronics retailer to save up $4,000 – the sum her mother told her she would need in order to be self-sufficient if she dropped out of college.

She hadn’t yet reached that number when her big break came. Her songs on MySpace caught the attention of R&B producer Rodney “Darkchild” Jerkins, hitmaker to the likes of Whitney Houston, Destiny’s Child and Michael Jackson, who was formulating a girl group, Purple Reign. It was a dream scenario but then reality hit. Signed to Motown, the group were dropped during a switchover of label boss, leaving the girls “dead broke … There were times I was singing in front of In-N-Out [Burger] with the girl group and a cup, getting people to put dollars in,” Monét recalls. She moved to songwriting as a temporary way to keep afloat. “I was still doing music for myself, but I couldn’t dedicate as much time. It was the way to make ends meet, I was just doing what I had to do.”

The 10-year delay in Monét reaching her potential speaks to wider industry failures. The challenge of breaking out from under the tag of “songwriter” is notoriously difficult, especially for women. “If female vocalists sound too similar to the artists they’re writing for it gets complicated,” she says. “People aren’t able to differentiate you from the work you’ve written for others.”

That issue can be compounded by outside factors. “I think for record labels maybe there’s a bit of foul play,” she says. “They want the writer to keep writing for the artists, so maybe they’re not as supportive.” One thing she says she would do differently in light of her experiences is: “Read your contracts. Make sure you’re not getting played. I wish I knew my worth earlier, because I’ve signed some crazy things that I had to find my way out of.”

She credits her breakthrough to tenacity and, ultimately, patience. “It mostly works when the songwriter wants it bad enough,” she says. “I’m stuck in it because it is who I am; even if I tried, I couldn’t un-be myself. So I was happy to still pursue it, even when times were really hard.”

Until now, fans had long protested the pigeonholing of Monét as “underrated” – often a self-fulfilling prophecy, no matter how well-intended the label. She is diplomatic about the framing. “I would much rather that than to be overrated. But I wonder what people think now?” she asks. “Like, what would change it for them? Is it the Grammy nominations, is it a No 1? What would define that turning point? The accolades help. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel done.”

A mother in her 30s, more than a decade from her first musical release, Monét’s success seems doubly poignant; hopefully, she represents a shift in archaic standards towards women like her. It is evident from the time she spends gushing about her daughter and motherhood that things that had once been a thorn in women’s sides are now an asset. “Having a baby grew me up a lot,” she says. “I’m better than I was before her. I feel like I’m coming into my own as a human; I’m experiencing the best of life, and that will be reflected in my music.”

Jaguar II is out now.

Victoria Monét, it’s safe to say, has left her songwriter-to-the-stars era behind and graduated to pop stardom. When we meet in the London offices of her record label, Sony, she is immaculately formed: long, poker-straight blond hair runs down to her stiletto-heeled boots, and she is flanked by makeup and hair stylists touching up her look at random intervals.

The week before we speak, the 34-year-old received seven Grammy nominations, making her the second most-nominated artist of the year. Waving off jetlag and hunger pangs amid a flurry of press appearances (the food brought in by team members remains politely untouched), she is still beaming in the wake of meeting one of her heroes the night before: Janet Jackson. “It feels like Christmas,” Monét says in the soft-spoken voice of a Disney princess. “God is showering me with blessings right now.” Not least her two-year old daughter, who she always makes time for in among her gruelling schedule.

Although Monét presents as a new star, she has been in the industry for some time, an experienced songwriter who has spent more than a decade writing for an enviable list of industry talent: Selena Gomez and Blackpink, Chloe x Halle, Brandy. Monét also has a hand in a fair chunk of Ariana Grande’s catalogue, including hit singles 7 Rings, 34+35 and Thank U, Next. But what has nudged her into solo stardom is her debut album, Jaguar II, and its headline song On My Mama, a salute to women who came before her, that captured listeners with its full-bodied horns and irresistible swagger. Her music is the sum of a dynamic blend of influences, particularly 70s Motown, filtered through delectable pop-R&B. Lyrically it’s a celebration of womanhood, maturity, sexual confidence and an effort to “span all of the different possibilities of how women think and feel”.

“Growing up, it was: ‘Cross your legs, sit up straight, don’t say pussy,’” she says. “Some of the themes in the album are often reflected in men’s music. I wanted to show that women talk about, express and feel these things, too.” She is as spellbinding on stage as she is on record, conveying themes with the same skill and apparent ease, though her secret is simple: a behind-the-scenes work ethic that goes back years. Monét’s formidable breath control comes from hours of rehearsal a day, including singing on treadmills. “To be nominated for best new artist says a lot, because I’m new, but I’m not,” she says. “I’ve just been working on it for a really long time.”

Born Victoria Monét McCants, she grew up an only child in Sacramento, California. Shy and observant, she says she was something of a “sponge” for the diverse music played by her extended family. Her grandparents gave her a taste for the oldies; the classic Motown of the Temptations, preppy musicals such as The Sound of Music and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. From her mother came more modern sounds: the dancehall of Buju Banton, Elvis Crespo’s merengue music and the raucous Miami bass of Uncle Luke.

Monét trained in dance groups from her preteens, and soon began writing her own music. At 18, dreams of moving to LA became an “obsession”; she balanced jobs at a bank and an electronics retailer to save up $4,000 – the sum her mother told her she would need in order to be self-sufficient if she dropped out of college.

She hadn’t yet reached that number when her big break came. Her songs on MySpace caught the attention of R&B producer Rodney “Darkchild” Jerkins, hitmaker to the likes of Whitney Houston, Destiny’s Child and Michael Jackson, who was formulating a girl group, Purple Reign. It was a dream scenario but then reality hit. Signed to Motown, the group were dropped during a switchover of label boss, leaving the girls “dead broke … There were times I was singing in front of In-N-Out [Burger] with the girl group and a cup, getting people to put dollars in,” Monét recalls. She moved to songwriting as a temporary way to keep afloat. “I was still doing music for myself, but I couldn’t dedicate as much time. It was the way to make ends meet, I was just doing what I had to do.”

The 10-year delay in Monét reaching her potential speaks to wider industry failures. The challenge of breaking out from under the tag of “songwriter” is notoriously difficult, especially for women. “If female vocalists sound too similar to the artists they’re writing for it gets complicated,” she says. “People aren’t able to differentiate you from the work you’ve written for others.”

That issue can be compounded by outside factors. “I think for record labels maybe there’s a bit of foul play,” she says. “They want the writer to keep writing for the artists, so maybe they’re not as supportive.” One thing she says she would do differently in light of her experiences is: “Read your contracts. Make sure you’re not getting played. I wish I knew my worth earlier, because I’ve signed some crazy things that I had to find my way out of.”

She credits her breakthrough to tenacity and, ultimately, patience. “It mostly works when the songwriter wants it bad enough,” she says. “I’m stuck in it because it is who I am; even if I tried, I couldn’t un-be myself. So I was happy to still pursue it, even when times were really hard.”

Until now, fans had long protested the pigeonholing of Monét as “underrated” – often a self-fulfilling prophecy, no matter how well-intended the label. She is diplomatic about the framing. “I would much rather that than to be overrated. But I wonder what people think now?” she asks. “Like, what would change it for them? Is it the Grammy nominations, is it a No 1? What would define that turning point? The accolades help. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel done.”

A mother in her 30s, more than a decade from her first musical release, Monét’s success seems doubly poignant; hopefully, she represents a shift in archaic standards towards women like her. It is evident from the time she spends gushing about her daughter and motherhood that things that had once been a thorn in women’s sides are now an asset. “Having a baby grew me up a lot,” she says. “I’m better than I was before her. I feel like I’m coming into my own as a human; I’m experiencing the best of life, and that will be reflected in my music.”

Jaguar II is out now.