The soul man with supreme style is on the cusp of mega-stardom, says Phoebe Watt
It’s midday on a Saturday in early January at our Auckland photo studio and Leon Bridges’ tour manager is working his way through a selection of Al Brown’s Best Ugly Bagels. As he gives each one his seal of approval – “PB and J, now that’s the real deal” – the man of the hour, perched on a chair in a Crane Brothers dinner jacket, strums his guitar for an audience of 10. He moves for the camera like he’s done it all before, and as one of the music industry’s biggest breakout stars of 2015, of course he has. Yet, in such a way that belies his sudden star status, he’s polite, softly spoken and unencumbered by ego. This is what you call taking new-found fame in your stride.
Leon Bridges’ ascent began with a pair of jeans. Two years ago at a bar in his hometown of Fort Worth, Texas, he was approached by a woman who noticed his high-waisted Wranglers and insisted that Leon meet her boyfriend, who favoured the same style. Her boyfriend happened to be Austin Jenkins of the Texan rock band White Denim, and after bonding over their denim preferences, the two got to talking about music. “That was it,” says Leon. “A week later he saw me playing at a club called Magnolia Motor Lounge. He asked me if my songs were covers and I said I wrote them myself. The rest is history.”
Which is to say that Austin and his White Denim band mate, Josh Block, who had long wanted to produce a soul record together, invited Leon to their studio to record what would be his debut album, the Grammy-nominated Coming Home. The album was recorded exclusively on vintage equipment that Austin and Josh had collected over the years, and which had been gathering dust while the two held out for an authentic, retro-soul singer to come along and use it. “It had almost gotten to the point where they were just going to make someone use it for the sake of it,” says Leon. “But then they found me.”
Leon would have had no trouble proving to Austin and Josh that he’d been worth the wait. Described by Rolling Stone magazine as “the second coming of Sam Cooke”, Leon has acknowledged the influence on his sound of the so-called ‘King of Soul’, whose music had filled the family home when he was growing up, and who he rediscovered in his early 20s after a passing comment from a friend. “He asked if I was inspired by Sam Cooke but, truthfully, I wasn’t really listening to him at that point. So after that I went back to the roots and started to dig in.”
Today, Leon’s soulful sound is what sets him apart from contemporary R&B artists, and this is how he likes it. Rappers such as Kendrick Lamar and Drake remain his heroes, but he’s adamant that he’d only collaborate with either of them if it was on his terms. “It’d have to be a project that was like an extension of me,” he explains. “I’ll never be comfortable doing something that doesn’t represent who I am.”
Fashion Quarterly creative director Marcel Gull learns this the hard way when he tries to get Leon into a fringed leather Zambesi shirt. Leon is gracious (“it’s dope”) but makes it clear his retro aesthetic is non-negotiable. “I just love that back in the 50s and 60s the norm for men was a suit and hat,” he says. “That’s what I try to live by as far as fashion.” For red carpet events, his first choice is a Sandro Paris suit (“they know how to keep it nice and clean”). For day wear he draws from a closet full of vintage finds. For Leon, consistency is key; you won’t catch him at the supermarket in sweats and Yeezy Boosts. But he’s resolute that keeping his style consistent with his music isn’t what drives him. “It’s more than that. Late 50s fashion is something I truly love and have a passion about.”
Some people are sceptical about what you might call Leon’s ‘retro shtick’, and he doesn’t blame them. He’s signed to Columbia Records, which also represents Beyoncé, Katy Perry and One Direction. It’s not really a stretch to think that the giant label may have seen in Leon the opportunity to manufacture “this perfect, retro-soul prototype” (his words). Then there’s the fact that he adopted his aesthetic only a few years ago. But Leon says this is irrelevant: “People change. Whoever you think dresses cool now probably wasn’t doing that in high school. It’s all about growing and changing.”
Point taken. Leon Bridges is such an old soul that it’s easy to forget he’s only 26 years old. The past year was a big one for the musician. In 2015 he attended the Met Gala (wearing a Sandro Paris tuxedo), performed at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony (where he shared the stage with Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder), and collaborated on a track with Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, which the trio debuted at the American Music Awards. In addition, he was a mainstay of the summer festival circuit – winning over fans everywhere from Glastonbury to SXSW – before embarking on a three-month tour of North America, Australia and New Zealand.
In this time, his idols became his contemporaries. While Leon and I speak, veteran rapper Pusha T – in town for his own show – is checking into his hotel. Leon knows this because the two crossed paths at Auckland Airport earlier in the day. “Pusha’s tight,” he says casually of the interaction.
He’s not so casual about his forthcoming Grammy appearance. “It’s insane,” he says of Coming Home’s nomination for Best R&B Album. “But it’s really special. My main guy growing up was Usher, so to be nominated in the same category that he’s won in a couple of times before… it’s crazy.”
Leon might talk about his rise to fame as having been, in a sense, preordained – “it’s like it was always meant to be”– but this is not to say he hasn’t put in the work. Leon started writing and playing the guitar about four years ago “and when I was doing that I was hungry”, he says. “So I was busking on the street and playing open-mic nights. I would finish my job bussing tables and I would go straight to the club, often still in my uniform.”
Despite having paid some dues, however, the musician concedes there are people in his hometown who resent his success. He’s channelled this negative experience into something positive, though, letting it form the basis of the song ‘So Long’ which he wrote for the Will Smith film Concussion, about a man who persists in the face of a community that is trying to bring him down. “He could have given in to them but he didn’t,” says Leon, of the film’s protagonist. “And that’s my story, too. When I’m not feeling the love back home I start thinking, well, maybe I should just leave. But I love where I’m from. I’m not going to leave.”
In fact, Fort Worth is where Leon is heading right after his New Zealand show. He’s looking forward to some downtime and his favourite Mexican food, he says. Before he goes, I have one more important question regarding his critical reception.
“Do girls dig Leon Bridges?” I ask. “Oh yes,” he laughs. “It’s one of the perks.”
