Finding My Voice

My mother tells me that she knew I'd grow up to be a musician, when she was giving me a bath one morning and humming 'Midnight Train To Georgia.' After belting out with Gladys' 'He's Leaving', she heard the Pips famous backup response "leaving" leave her baby's lips in perfect time and pitch. By the age of 9, I was a musical busybody -- studying classical piano and trumpet, playing Stevie Wonder songs by ear and daydreaming about writing a song for Ms. Knight. As an undergraduate at Brown University, I penned a bevy of ballads and sought campus fame singing jazz and R&B in a group called Shades of Brown.

At 25, while I was entertainment editor of Essence magazine, my dream of working with Gladys came true. My mentor, producer Barry Eastmond and I had been writing songs together at night after I left work. In 1994, we were commissioned by music executive Sylvia Rhone to write a theme song for the film "Set It Off". The end-title anthem "Missing You" featured Ms. Knight, Chaka Khan, Tamia and Brandy. It went Top 10 on the charts and was nominated for a Grammy.

I remember getting goose bumps vocal-coaching the legends and 'young-uns' alike on this session, although it was actually not my first hit. The year prior I had penned Anita Baker's Grammy-winning " I Apologize" and Brownstone's number one hit, "If You Love Me." All of these platinum artists had learned these melodies by studying my lead vocals on the demos, and if you read the credits you'll hear me in the backgrounds. I left Essence in 1997, and God provided. For seven more years straight, hits kept coming in for Angie Stone, 98 Degrees, Marc Anthony, Deborah Cox, Aretha Franklin, and others.

By 2001, however, the year after I'd bought and renovated a brownstone in Brooklyn, everything seemed to really slooooow down. R&B had turned hip-hop bubblegum, and the phone was not ringing to request my mature love-drenched lyrics. I found myself feeling young but "over the hill," out of place in a youth-obsessed business, lost in a 'changing of the guard' in the industry I loved and not knowing how to write these new syncopated melodies Plus, the dollars were down. For the first time in my life, although I was brilliant at playing it off, I was broke and depressed.

A friend came to visit me from L.A. and suggested I go into therapy. Luckily, I still had insurance, so the counseling was free. I was scared and embarrassed, but I knew I needed to talk to someone. What I discovered "on the couch" with Dr. Taylor is that I'd had an 'overachievers' syndrome. I was feeling like at 30, there was nothing more to achieve, nothing to inspire me. I was truly grateful for platinum plaques on my wall, but more than anything, I, too, wanted to sing. Not just backgrounds and demos, but lead vocals. Albums of my own. There was only cure: to face the fear and pick up the microphone.

I'll never forget a 2002 "ah-hah" moment as long as I live. The writing spell dried up a bit, and Barry and I were hired by Arista Records one summer night to produce a Christmas song called "One Wish" for my favorite vocalist of all time -- Whitney Houston. I was elated in the studio, laughing and singing up a storm. When it was time for Whitney to "take it the bridge" during a key change, I imagined her going even higher. There was a certain riff I wanted her to hit, so I belted it out for her as an example. Unexpectedly, she walked right up to me and stared me down Newark-style. I thought I'd made an enemy by telling the 100-million seller how to sing instead of having her interpret the melody on her own (a studio faux pas with the 'divas'). I thought, in my frustrated-singer moment, I'd crossed the line. Surprisingly, she looked me directly in the face, smiled and said to me, plain as day, "Gordon, if you want to do what I'm doing, baby, do it. . . . If you want to sing, sing!"

True friends can look through your soul. I promised myself that by Christmas time that year I'd have my own CD under the tree for my family and friends. That weekend I went to church -- Emmanuel Baptist Church, in Fort Greene, Brooklyn -- and got another revelation. Our pastor Reverend Anthony L. Trufant gave a foot-stomping sermon detailing how Jesus died at 36, but how most of what we read in the Bible about Him are acts done in his early 30's. I got inspired. I started thinking about how you never know how long you have on this earth to do your life's mission. I knew I wasn't Jesus, but I knew that God was calling His other thirtysomething son to sing. I knew it was time.

I didn't tell my friends and family that I wanted to record some new "artist" demos. I simply called Barry and other songwriting partners of mine and started working. I knew how to write on assignment, but who was I vocally? Getting started was easier said than done. Creatively, I didn't know what my sound should be. Secondly, my business relationship with these A-list writer-producers was centered around us pitching songs to artists with hopes of landing a placement for a fee. With no record deal, no producer budget for these Grammy-winning hitmakers to open up their schedules, it took me, "Mr. Big-Time Songwriter," humbling myself and asking for help -- and that was not my nature. God is good, they believed in me, and we got to work.

My initial demo sessions with my friend, co-writer and producer Troy Taylor were anything but fun! "Gordon, I'm gonna produce you harder than you expect," Troy said, in his studio basement. "Because a lot of folks will be thinking, 'He's a writer, but can he really sing?' You have to shock them." Instead, I was the one shocked! After years of coaching the 'divas' how to sing my songs, I thought I knew it all. Demos were one thing, but Troy was out for classic performances, and little did I know how flat or sharp or out-of-pocket I could be. But I learned that you're never too old to learn, and that nothing worth having in life comes easy.

In 2004, I took a second mortgage on my home and my entire life savings and released my solo debut, Introducing Gordon Chambers on my own label, Chamber Music in 2004. I went for broke, ya'll. When people around me heard the songs, they continually asked me, "Why, with my connections, I didn't just go get a record deal." The truth was and sadly is that major labels aren't focusing on adult artists now. I did what I had to do, and self-financed my dream. It was "do or die" and yet another crash course in Humility 101.

I learned being celebrated as a writer could get me press, but to promoters and general public, I was still unknown as an artist. It was time to pay dues. I thought that well-paying gigs would overflow and radio station doors would spring open. But that simply doesn't happen for most independent artists out the bat with small teams and no major label hype behind them. I had to learn, as my friend and spiritual adviser Cola put it, how to go from the "grand to the grind." See, for years, I simply concentrated on the craft, on singing and writing -- not the music business. I had to learn how to market, promote, make cold calls, book gigs, charm promoters, make press packages, etc. The post office and Kinko's became my new hangouts. Mr. R&B had to take a cue from hip-hop and learn how to hustle! Hair salons, barbershops, you name it! Anything for the music.

Luckily, the "underground railroad" of satellite stations, promoters, websites and magazines began supported my project early on and the "hype" gradually began growing. The press was very supportive. My initial live gigs were in front of small but enthusiastic crowds. The fees basically covered the band and travel, but we got them done and made fans. It was truly a campaign trail. While on the road, I constantly remembered a question Troy asked me in our first "artist" recording session: "Gordon, are you sure you wanna do this?" I was humbled, but the answer in my heart remained a resounding yes.

Every time I took the stage it was worth it. After years of seeing the legends work the crowds at shows, I knew what to do on stage. As an artist, however, I had to get brush ups on how to charm fans and VIP's backstage afterwards in the "green rooms," and develop a stage look -- basic artist development tricks of the trade. During my promo tour for the album, we lost Luther Vandross and Gerald Levert. Fans began telling me that I was carrying their torches. I was moved.

My first CD broke even, and I was even nominated for Independent Soul Album of the Year by Soultracks.com. I even made the cover of Billboard magazine! At one show, I got an unexpected blessing. My friends Gary and Pat Houston (brother and sister-in-law of Whitney) brought me to Pat's hometown Shelby, North Carolina to do a benefit show. Although unable to attend, Whitney pre-taped a welcome to the crowd and "break-a-leg" message which hit the screen right before I hit the stage. I had to hold back the tears to begin the first song of my set. I knew I was well on my way to being the singer-songwriter I've always wanted to be.

I've just released my second CD, Love Stories, and I'm so proud of it. The road has helped me grow as a singer. And adult R&B music is making a comeback, so I've recently written for Patti Labelle, Yolanda Adams, Aretha Franklin and Carl Thomas. I am singing and writing now, and truly happy. The moral of this "testimony" is threefold:

(1)You're never too old (or too "whatever") to pursue your dreams.

(2) Ask for help -- it is out there.

(3) You'll never be fulfilled unless you answer God's beating in your heart.

Now, before my shows, one of my vocal warm-ups includes the hymnal lyrics, "I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free." Truer words have never been written. I am blessed, and feel many legends watching over me.