Daniel Ross interrogates Janelle Monáe

The night before we join Janelle Monáe at her Marylebone hotel room, we attend a listening party for her second LP ‘The Electric Lady’. There, the Kansas-born psychedelic soul innovator tells the canapé-inhaling music industry usuals about the album’s inspiration: while touring her first album, an easel would appear on stage during the instrumental section of the soaring epic ‘Mushrooms And Roses’, upon which she would hastily paint the impressionistic image of a woman. Night after night, the same woman would appear on canvas with subtle variations. Such was the regularity of the image, someone close to her (she never actually says the word ‘therapist’) suggested she give it a name, so she could deal with it. She chose ‘The Electric Lady’.

The following morning, made-up for her photo-shoot but naturally striking, petite and serene in a squishy lounge chair, she answers calmly and quietly. It would be going too far to say that Janelle Monáe doesn’t like journalists, but the traditional push-and-pull of asking artists thoughtful questions and hopefully receiving interesting answers certainly does not apply.

“I can definitely connect with being ‘the other’...”

We talk first about the video to the first single from the new album, ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’, which casts Monáe as the rebel alongside Erykah Badu – a future museum exhibit that comes to life and storms around singing, “I can’t believe all the things they say about me.” But can you still be a rebel when you’ve been accepted, as she has, by popular culture? The answer is polite, but abrupt.

“I rebel against labels. I defy every label that you put on me,” she says, firmly.

Her insistence on giving a defiant message is admirable, but there has to be something rawer and more human in there. What sounds like a pretty tough upbringing (“I know what it’s like to live from cheque to cheque,” she hints) is given a coat of aspirant showbiz wax, the main message being the classic mantra ‘you can achieve anything when you put your mind to it’. But being a chambermaid in Kansas while she dreamed of being an artist in New York must have been frustrating?

“Absolutely not. I enjoyed it. I was around a lot of women making me laugh, always asking me to sing while we would clean. Looking back, I think it was meant to give me more compassion and inspire my music. It was meant to make the working class my inspiration.”

Speaking again of inspiration, Monáe also told the guests at the listening party that we should expect at least one very special, but secret, guest. And I know who it is. Even a cursory glance at her CV shows an intense connection with one kindred spirit in particular: Prince. She’s been to his house, they know each other well… so it’s Prince. Definitely Prince. I know it is.

“Why do you know that?” she asks. “OK, I guess if you wanna build it up in your head… but I didn’t confirm that.”

This is the first time things get a little cagey. A boundary is being tested, but she’s reacting with impeccable poise. Deflect, deflect, deflect. Perhaps it’s just because that’s the collaboration people want to hear the most, to hear two incredibly distinct yet similar artists showing off on the same song, I suggest.

“I have a lot of relationships with a lot of artists. You’ve already said to yourself, ‘That’s who I wanna hear, so that’s who it is’? I love your conviction.”

Like a pro, she’s turned a sticky situation into an empowering compliment directed back at me. Incredible. (Still, a Billboard interview published a couple of weeks after our interview confirms that suspicion: Prince is on the new record.) A nervous sort of conversational dance starts. Gentle inquiries about her youth and growing up in Kansas encourage her to elaborate slightly on her early life. It wasn’t a childhood where she felt extreme prejudice, but it seems like a sense of alienation took a long time to leave her.

“I can definitely connect with being ‘the other’,” she says. “Being an African American in society, being a woman in society… But I don’t consider myself ‘the other’ now. I belong to society and I don’t feel like a misfit. I definitely do not feel like an outcast.”

Reconnected outcast or not, it’s tempting to view Janelle Monáe as a concept, not an actual person. Her music is rooted in allegorical, Orwellian sci-fi, with herself boldly cast as an android prophet. The image she presents to the world is not the real Janelle Monáe, and it’s that way on purpose, isn’t it?

“Janelle Monáe is a constantly evolving concept. I’m finding out more about her as time goes. She’s constant, and that is a concept - the constant evolution of Janelle Monáe.”

Is she nervous about letting people see any more of her than this fictional representation of herself?

“Am I nervous?” she says, scrunch-browed and incredulous. “I’m not scared of human beings. I think I just… I do things on my own. You have a right to go to work and reveal what you want to reveal about yourself, and that’s the same approach that I take.”

The difference being, of course, that going to work for Janelle Monáe is rather more interesting than it is for most Average Joebodys. One of the evils of being a pop star is that those people want to get that little bit closer to the artist.

“Janelle Monáe is a constantly evolving concept. I’m finding out more about her as time goes...”

“It’s important to have boundaries with the public because everybody’s intentions are not always out of love and in your best interest. So you have to protect yourself and your family and your privacy from those who have no respect for it. Some things can become a bigger focus than your music if you put it out there. I try to make sure I stay on-message and draw attention to the things that I feel are more beneficial.”

But that’s difficult, isn’t it? People expect a level of access, and I don’t think people feel that they know you. “Where did you get your…” she hesitates. “Where’s your theory coming from?”

Well, now that she’s a success in the public eye and a critical darling, people just want to know more about her life. Where she came from, what she likes, who she likes, maybe who she loves. But, as delightfully and professionally as she has done all morning, she rebuffs the thought. “They know the right things. They know the most important things.” Her relentlessly efficient answers make it clear no more information will be forthcoming. It’s time to back off and get into something she actually wants to talk about. We discuss the continuation of the concept that dominated both her debut EP, ‘Metropolis’, and her first album, ‘The Archandroid’, where Monáe assumed the role of Cindi Mayweather. Mayweather is an android (the real Janelle Monáe straight-facedly describes herself as one while she is being made up for the photo-shoot) on the run for falling in love with a human, Sir Anthony Greendown. Does ‘The Electric Lady’ pick up where ‘The Archandroid’ left off?

“Cindi is still involved. We share the same DNA. She’s an inspiration for me.” She is more business-like now. “I will not be able to speak too in-depth about the story, but this is a continuation. This is two new chapters in the book. The name of the album is ‘The Electric Lady…’”

“I’m an artist, my job is to start dialogue...”

Monáe then spools out the exact same story she told last night, about the paintings and the hint at a psychiatric need to name the image she had drawn. We’ve got time for one more question and, unwise as it might be, it’s time to test those boundaries again. Now, it’s a dirty journalist trick to quote an interviewee’s previous statements back at them, so I make her aware in advance that that’s what I’m doing. She narrows her eyes. “Well why would you do it?” This is a definite warning. But with a laugh, she restores something resembling a light atmosphere. In an interview with Rolling Stone, she once said that the lesbian community had ‘claimed’ her as one of their own. But, characteristically, she has eschewed any particular stance on the issue of her sexuality. She seems to almost relish it, using her tailored suits to toy with asexuality on a Morrissey-like scale. Is it enjoyable to have that control?

“I’m an artist. My job is to start dialogue. And when you hear ‘The Electric Lady’, it will be thought-provoking music that deals with sexuality, that deals with religion, that deals with rebellion, that deals with love.”

There’s a small pause, to allow me to digest, before she says with total finality, “So there you go.” Which seems to be her way of saying, “That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

All the statuesque statements of artistic credibility wouldn’t work unless there was something to back it up. Fortunately, as she becomes one of the world’s most important pop artists, Janelle Monáe continues to back up her quirks, her insecurities and her maniacal desire for creative control. ‘The Electric Lady’ is proof that a singular vision is enough to create an artistic legacy to rival the greats. Two albums in and, so far, not a step out of place. We might never get to know the Janelle Monáe, but as long as she’s so firmly in control of her art, we’ll only ever see what she wants us to.

‘The Electric Lady’ is released on Atlantic Records/ Wonderland on 9th September. Make-up by Maria Asadi using Cover Girl cosmetics.