Durand Bernarr Doesn’t Need Grammy Validation

Bernarr’s music is an ode to the past and a leap into the future at the same time. It’s what it sounds like when the most confident, well-cared for, healed and therapized person’s intrusive thoughts win. Listening to it feels like being high in church during revival week. Sonically, it’s the most sanctified, secular experience you could imagine. It’s easy to understand why he calls himself “your favorite cousin on yo daddy’s side.”

Durand Bernarr is the kind of artist whose voice you might recognize but have yet to dive into his discography. He’s collaborated on tracks with Kaytranada, Ari Lennox, Thundercat and Free Nationals. His voice is as soulful as it is playful, bending genres like R&B, jazz, funk and dance at his will. It’s hard to not feel like “that bitch” listening to songs like “Mango Butter.” Or sing along to soulful ballads like “Unknown.” Or dance while contemplating how temporary life is on “Here; Gone,” which his mom ghost co-wrote.

It’s easy to enjoy Durand Bernarr. And once the capitalistic, numbers-driven music industry gets out of its own way, his influence could help reshape how we view artistry.

His camera is off for our Zoom interview, which is understandable since his 36th birthday was just two days prior. Even as he recovers from his ongoing celebration, he has a lot more to raise a glass — or a blunt — to than another lap around the sun.

“There’s so many things happening. It’s almost hard for me to pinpoint what would encapsulate everything. And I mean, from career wise to, family to friends, everything else in between,” he said. “It’s almost like an amusement park. Lots of rollercoasters. I would at least say that a lot of them are more enjoyable than not.”

His star has steadily been on the rise during his 20-year career in music. This past year or so, the crooner’s presence has been especially impactful. In August, he wrapped up his “Rolling With The Homies” skate tour, followed by a performance at Brooklyn’s AfroPunk. He’s released two projects this year, a breezy EP “En Route” in May, and an EP filled with electronic and dance tracks “Charlie Vettuno Presents… Where in the World is Carmen Randiego?!” in September.

A year after his viral March 2023 Tiny Desk performance, in which he and his band wore costumes giving a nod to the Disney animated series, “The Proud Family,” newer audiences are becoming exposed to his music. Last summer, he completed his sold out Wanderlust Tour and performed in his first arena tour of his career, singing background for Erykah Badu. Coincidentally, that was also Badu’s first arena tour.

As he notes at the beginning of the visual EP for “En Route,” he’s beginning to enter a new era. You can keep sleeping on him if you want, but if you choose to go along for the ride, you’ll quickly find out that the journey is the destination when Durand takes the wheel.

Bernarr was raised by music. Born Bernarr Ferebee Jr., he grew up with two working musicians as parents, in Cleveland, Ohio. His earliest introduction to music was most likely being near his mom while she sang or played the piano, or being in a holster on his dad’s chest while he played the bass guitar. He was homeschooled but didn’t miss out on extracurriculars. He took movement classes at Cleveland Institute of Music, acting classes at Playhouse Square and Karamu House Theater, and regularly participated in skating, martial arts and plays. Parents that supported him and encouraged his curiosity was the foundation all that was built upon.

Age 16 was pivotal. He had just joined his church and gotten saved when his dad, Bernarr Ferebee, an audio engineer who has worked with Whitney Houston, Beyoncé and Jill Scott, told him Earth, Wind and Fire were looking for a production assistant for their upcoming tour. The young artist accompanied his dad on the tour, balancing schoolwork with his many tour duties. Being on tour was like a class in itself with teachers whom musicians would pay top dollar to get access to.

“It definitely shaped the starting points of my work ethic,” he noted. “Philip Bailey gave me some advice on how to get started with recording or how to practice this. I never got a chance to view Earth, Wind and Fire from afar. They’ve always been there since I was little.”

Soon after, he began working on his own music. He produced beats on FruityLoops, a digital audio platform, and uploaded his music to MySpace and YouTube. Because his family and mentors were so heavily seeped into his musical upbringing, he believed the internet to be a great place to find unbiased opinions about his work.

“I knew that the internet didn’t care about your feelings. It’s like, if it’s good, it’s good, if it’s not, it’s not,” he explained. “I just continued to do it. And it wasn’t exclusively music. It was skits, it was dancing, it was blogs, reviews, it was a little something for everyone. So if there were people who weren’t really rocking with the singing, they could watch the comedy skits.”

The internet became a place for creative expression for the singer. He began sharing videos of his performances, song covers and vlogs to YouTube in 2007. Even back then, Durand’s influences popped out. And that isn’t limited to music. His humor was informed by a melting pot of influences including comedians like Jim Carrey, cartoons like Bugs Bunny, villains like Jafar, and institutions like the church. He also thought some of his favorite artists like Whitney Houston and Luther Vandross had great senses of humor.

“Whitney for sure was funny. And I know Luther was shady,” he said. “But to incorporate that in the music, to be amused and serenaded at the same time. It’s an interesting combination of emotions to be laughing and also to be swooned. Just when I thought that I was gonna shed a tear, now I’m busting out laughing. I’m glad that I’m able to bring that together ’cause I love making people laugh.”

From songs back when he was first getting started like “Don’t Be A Ho” to his more recent tracks like “Ingredients” from his sophomore album, there’s a hilarious candor in his music that has always come organically.

He released his first project, “Alcoholharmony: The Mixt@pe,” in 2009. It was in 2010, however, when he released “8ight: The Stepson of Erykah Badu,” a seven-track ode to his favorite female vocalist, when he got a life-changing DM from Badu. They kept in touch while Durand was still living in Cleveland, working on his music and at a pizza joint at the same time. They finally connected in person, and within days he was singing background for her at Coachella.

“I always say that before I got into professional therapy, that Badu was one of my unofficial therapists,” she said, describing her as his favorite artist, boss, mentor and friend. He said Badu has poured into him from the beginning.

“I get a chance to take my own mental notes of what I wanna do [and] what I don’t wanna do, making sure that I always enjoy myself and trusting my crew, my band; it’s a relationship that needs to be developed and it’s still a little crazy sometimes where I’ve gotten with this ’cause my working relationship with her hasn’t really interfered with what I’m doing in my career. I told her I would juggle both as long as I could.”

Badu once told him that he was going to be too big for her stage. But 13 years later and Durand is balancing his own career with singing for Badu. He said he doesn’t get it when people say he shouldn’t be a background singer.

That doesn’t just go for legends like Badu. He recently sang background at a jam session called Tha Juice Joint for a rising female duo called GAWD, an acronym for Good Ass Women Deserve. He pointed to Houston singing background for BeBe and CeCe Winans while “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” was on the Billboard charts.

“Go to TikTok, look up Whitney Houston, BeBe or CeCe Winans, and you will see a clip of a Whitney singing background,” he instructs. “Got her uniform on, doing her rock side to side with everybody. Now, granted, they did have mama smack in the middle, and yes, she was chewing gum, but she didn’t miss a note. And that’s the attitude that I’ve developed. I just wanna sing.”

It’s clear that Durand knows himself. Whether you go to one of his shows, produced down to one of his many elaborate costumes, or watch him shoot the shit on Instagram Live, there’s a magnetism to how he fully brings himself to the world.

That hasn’t always been easy for him.

In summer 2015, he hit a block. After being in the industry for over a decade, doubt about his future began to creep in.

“It was like something is not hitting, it’s not happening. People know about me ’cause I’ve been around for so long,” he admitted. “There’s still something that’s not connecting in the way that I would like it to.”

Back then, Durand was making “homie music,” he said. That’s the music that resonates within certain circles but only goes so far. That frustrated him after a while. He wanted a bigger reach. He contemplated sacrificing his sound for something more trendy.

However, a conversation with someone close to him convinced him otherwise.

“I’m like, ‘Well maybe I’ll just do some trap shit or I’ll do some other stuff that’s not really me, just so I can maybe make this a 9 to 5 type thing and make me that I genuinely don’t like so that I can get out there, maybe I need to switch it up,’” he recalled telling them. “And they were like, ‘Yeah, I will physically assault you if you even try to change yourself. There’s plenty of ways for you to be commercial and also be yourself.’”

He realized it was the melodies and structure that he needed to change. “We need things that everybody can sing along to that will get stuck; you need an earworm,” he went on. “You can’t be too complicated ’cause that’s white noise for everybody else. And it can be beautiful.”

Though he’s been working since age 16, he didn’t release his debut, self-titled album until 2020, and his sophomore album in 2022. Both albums hit No. 1 on Apple Music R&B charts.

Durand blew out smoke from a blunt he lit during this interview and contemplated a bit more. He’s said in previous interviews that it takes 10 years to make an overnight celebrity. He’s grounded in a place of gratitude when looking at his career right now.

“I’m a prime example. Just because you have the voice or the talent doesn’t mean that you’re gonna automatically be a star. It doesn’t mean you’re going to be everywhere,” he explained.

Some have told him how underrated he is. But he thinks that’s a misuse of the word.

“Underrated means you’re not appreciated. And it’s difficult to genuinely appreciate something when you don’t know about it. So it’s not that I’m underrated, it’s just that I’m unfamiliar with the bulk of the world, but they know. And also, too, just because n****s ain’t following you on social media does not mean they don’t know about you. Trust me.”

And if that’s that case, he concludes, Beyoncé absolutely knows him. He is your favorite singer’s favorite singer, after all.

“I know she saw that ‘Sorry’ video,” he continues, referring to his cover of her “Lemonade” song. “In my mind, when I meet her, I’ll be like, ‘I knew you knew, and now, I’m gonna pass out real quick.’”

Kaytranada won a Grammy for Best Dance/Electronic Album in 2022 for his album “Bubba,” on which Durand was featured. Durand’s goal was never to seek validation from mainstream awards, but the news shocked him. He celebrated the win on his social media, believing featured artists receive an award, only to have his bubble burst by a friend who worked with the Recording Academy that he’d be receiving an honor, not a trophy.

“I still haven’t recovered. I’m not gonna hold you. It’s interesting how something that I never really was looking forward to got me excited about it and then just knocked the taste out of my mouth to ever even wanna participate,” he said. “I don’t wanna do the popularity contest anymore.”

Valuable recognition is less tangible for him. It’s being able to tell one of Earth, Wind and Fire’s lead singers that they can do a better take while recording in the studio and them having enough respect for him to listen. That’s still a “mindf**k” for Durand.

The real reward is “just being able to do what I love, do what I’m good at ’cause a lot of people are good at stuff, but they don’t love it,” he said. “And a lot of people like doing stuff, but they’re not good at it. So it’s nice to have that happy medium ’cause I mean, outside of maybe psychology or maybe even motivational coaching, I can’t really see myself doing anything else.”

He knows he isn’t the only talented artist affected by the industry’s formulaic approach.

“It’s not that nobody’s trying to be innovative, it’s just that what’s being pushed out isn’t exactly something that I feel would turn some heads for real. How are we approaching certain things differently? It’s the same thing. We talking about love. We talking about being hurt, all that stuff. There are so many other things that we could discuss.”

But talking about the problem isn’t enough. Durand is looking ahead to start writing and arranging music for other artists. He hopes Ari Lennox and Aliah Sheffield are among them.

“I want to pick people’s brains and figure out what are they going through, what are they feeling, where are they in their lives right now,” he explained. “Where I can construct something that is true to them, that is honest, that they can identify with. I have been doing little stuff here and there, like branching out ’cause I wanna work with more people when I do music.”

He’s not pessimistic about the future of music, however. He sees promise in more LGBTQ+ representation than when he started 20 years ago. And not just in one facet. From Lil Nas X to Saucy Santana, he knows firsthand how important it is to see yourself in talent.

“I’m grateful to be in that number in the conversation of people that are walking a different journey and still showing up rehearsed tight, we are present. And it makes me proud,” he said, warmly. “I have a sense of pride knowing that I make my community proud. And it just started to sink in within the past few years, the things that I say, how I do them, they matter and they hold weight.”

Durand isn’t trying to be a role model. He quotes Badu: “Don’t follow me. I’m lost too.” But it’s hard to not see his impact on the industry.

“As long as I can be somewhat of a positive example… and that looks like being yourself, giving yourself grace, self-care, surrounding yourself with people who are gonna build you up and hold you accountable, who are gonna gather you privately unless you act up publicly — and even then I still might yank you in the other room,” he said. “I am my brother’s keeper. I take that seriously, a little more seriously than what other people would take it.”