With Beyoncé's UK tour opening imminently, we visit Rock's Backpages – the world's best archive of music writing – for this classic Q feature on Destiny's Child, from 2001
"She invited us to her 35th birthday! We were so excited!" trills Beyoncé (pronounced Bay-onsay) Knowles, founder member and lead singer of Destiny's Child. She's reminiscing about the first time they met Whitney Houston, in 1998.
"We scrambled up all our money, got us some outfits. We were the only group that came dressed as a group. Everybody was sayin': 'Y'all are like the Supremes.'" When Knowles and Kelly Rowland (second singer) shook Houston's hand, they both burst into tears.
These are the things that R'n'B dreams are made of. But there was to be more. Destiny's Child took off, and this year, in their youthful exuberance, the trio asked Houston to appear with them at the US MTV Awards. "We were gonna say: 'We've found the fourth member,'" Knowles says gleefully. Then pauses. "But it didn't work out. Never mind. She's an inspiration to us all."
It's not surprising that R&B's queen diva declined the offer of playing fourth fiddle to the biggest teen girl group in America (she's got a lot on her mind these days). But it's that combination of naivety and Southern sass that has seen the Texan girls clock up 6m sales of their second album, The Writing's on the Wall. The record has birthed four huge hit singles, including Bills, Bills, Bills and Say My Name, and is still shifting 70,000 units per week.
A year ago they were virtual R&B nobodies, now they have Grammy nominations and Mobo awards coming out of their ears. It has not been plain sailing, however. With the acrimonious departure of two original members earlier this year, and the recent exit of fourth member Farrah Franklin after just five months, job security in Destiny's Child is up there with the manager's seat at Chelsea FC.
Reading on mobile? Watch here
Q gets the full story on the day that Destiny's Child – DC to their fans – are to appear at the MTV Awards in New York. Knowles, Rowland (19) and third member Michelle Williams (20) arrive in a stretch limousine at Chelsea Piers, an entertainment complex by the river. The sofa disappears under mountains of Prada and Gucci handbags. The photographer and his crew are furiously painting a backdrop in time for the photo session, but they needn't have worried. Hair and make-up takes five hours.
While her sistas get ready, Knowles chats to Q in a café overlooking the Hudson. She's a self-assured and extremely beautiful 19-year-old who regularly clicks her fingers or punches her right hand into her left palm to illustrate a point. Q asks a question, and Knowles just … goes.
In a soft Texan drawl she tells how, at nine years old, already a veteran of talent shows and beauty pageants, she and schoolmate Rowland formed a group in their hometown of Houston. They were joined by friends LeToya Luckett and LeTavia Robertson, and managed by Knowles's father Matthew. The group jetted round the country playing talent showcases, in an effort to get a record deal. They would dedicate every summer vacation to the group, rehearsing five hours a day. They would watch archive tapes of the Supremes, analyzing the Motown stars' every move. A vocal coach moved into their back apartment and, instead of paying rent, gave the group voice lessons.
"We were young and sacrificed a lot. I had to give up cheerleading, as did the others," says Knowles.
Dad left his job selling medical equipment and dedicated himself to DC. Mom took time away from her Houston hair salon to become the girls' stylist and personal assistant. In 1995, now aged 13, they were signed to Elektra by Sylvia Rhone, the woman behind En Vogue. They had a short-lived production deal with LA and Babyface sideman Daryl Simmonds, and then they got dropped.
"We thought the world was at an end," sighs Knowles. But it wasn't and Columbia signed them within the month. DC spent the next two years recording their self-titled debut. Though produced mainly by Dwayne Wiggins from hyperactive R'n'B boys Tony! Toni! Tone!, the stand-out track No, No, No was cut with Fugees impresario Wyclef Jean. Through him, DC arrived at their trademark staccato, rhythmic style almost by accident.
"We were in the studio one night with Wyclef, all really tired. I sang melody to the fast music track, for a joke and Wyclef said, That's hot! Do it like that," recalls Knowles. At first she refused, saying she sounded like a chipmunk. Eventually she agreed to try. The girls recorded the song in 57 minutes, and came up with a No 1 R&B hit. "That's how the whole fast-singing rhythmic thing started," says Knowles. "Then we went right into recording the next album." The follow-up, The Writing's on the Wall, was banged out in two months.
Knowles wrote and co-produced 17 tracks with She'kspere and Timbaland, superstar producers of tricky-clicky R&B, and also worked with Missy Elliott. The result is an audacious mix of raw R&B bass beats, baroque samples and daring vocal harmonies, a cross between TLC and Kraftwerk.
"I grew up listening to Stevie Wonder, Donny Hathaway, En Vogue. I like old school. Kelly is more alternative, and we both listen to gospel. When you bring all that together, it's really cool," says Knowles. As each single "blew up" in the US and Europe, DC crossed over to the pop market with ease, and seemingly couldn't put a foot wrong. But in February 2000 they had what Knowles calls "The Change".
They were about to shoot the video for Say My Name, which was to be their biggest hit so far, when Luckett and Robertson sent a letter to the DC office firing Matthew Knowles as manager. This came after months of internal tension within the group. Knowles chooses her words carefully.
"We tried everything. Counselling with our church, our youth pastor. Rotating rooms. But it was two and two. Our vision of the group was different from theirs." The other two, it seems, wanted DC to be more "street" and less Christian. They complained about money, but Knowles insists that everything was split 25%. After protracted negotiation, the two girls left the group.
"It was a stressful time for Kelly and I," says Knowles. "We were very depressed and hurt."
Reading on mobile? Watch here
The remaining two soldiered on, prayed hard, and found two new members – Michelle Williams, a former backing singer with Monica, and Farrah Franklin, a dancer in their 'Bills, Bills, Bills' video.
Since then Luckett and Robertson have apparently been "dissin'" the band in the press. The remaining two have kept quiet. But now Rowland, tall with cropped hair and a feisty attitude, lets rip.
"They were very negative and jealous. Am I right? I don't sound mean, do I? I'm just tellin' the truth," she says, while Knowles's mother Rina, a friendly, mumsy woman with a smart blouse and a pierced eyebrow adds: "They didn't have the ability."
"They weren't able to do leads by themselves," says Rowland. "We went to voice lessons because we wanted strong vocals. They wouldn't do that."
Billy B, make-up artist to Dc, Mary J Blige, Pink, and a good friend of drag queen RuPaul, butts in: "… I told you a hundred times!" Everyone laughs.
"They were late for interviews and photo shoots. That's not the philosophy of Destiny's Child," continues Mrs K. "The group is serious about what they do. Nothin' comes before DC but God."
"They'd just show up when it was time to make money," snips Rowland.
"Go Kelly!!" screeches Billy B.
Farrah Franklin, too, fell foul of the DC regime – it appears it all got too much for her. One day she failed to show up for an MTV show in Sacramento.
"That was such a huge thing for us," says Knowles testily. "It took us nine years to get on MTV. We'd worked so hard to get to that point. Whatever your problems, can't you hold off until you get back to the hotel? It showed how she'd only been in this for five months. That's what happens when you give somebody that kind of success in two weeks and they don't have to work for it."
And since then they've carried on with just the three of them. Reviews have been good, sales are still high and the only thing they have to worry about now is their image. Girl groups are routinely required to "up" the foxy factor, and the devout DC find themselves treading a line between sensual and sexually explicit. When they squeeze into today's costumes (racy rock'n'roll motorcycle chic), there is consternation over the size of William's cleavage. The ever-inventive Tina Knowles has customized three black leather S&M corsets, covering them with rhinestones to give them a bit of dazzle. The only problem is Williams is revealing a little too much. Mrs K pokes at the girl's curvy bosom.
"If it's too open, we press 'em back down," explains Williams. From Rockford, Illinois, she has been part of the Pentecostal church all her life. "Back in the day it was a very strict religion, and some women still don't believe in wearing pants, make up, highlights in your hair. I didn't come up in that era. I wear pants and sexy tops."
Reading on mobile? Watch here
Despite their bare legs and midriffs, the group are careful to keep things the right side of smutty. "Classy" is the DC buzzword.
"People have tried to get us into bathing suits," says Knowles, "but there's a line we draw. We wear nothin' with our butt cheeks out, our boobs out. We like sexy clothes, but still classy. Not so people can say, How can they wear that and be a Christian?"
To those R&B girls who like to reveal more, Knowles says diplomatically that it's "their business. Who am I to judge them?"
DC have a huge following amongst drag queens, a factor no doubt enhanced by Independent Women, DC's contribution to the Charlie's Angels film soundtrack. That's to be the title of their next album and ideas are already in the mix, along with plans for Knowles to do a solo project. Her star quality has been noted, but she is not about to do a Diana Ross. "I heard Prince wrote a song for me, I'd love to work with him," she gushes, "If I do, it'll probably be as a solo side project, but I wouldn't do it to compete with the group."
Come 5pm the girls are to be at the MTV Awards in an hour, and they still haven't done the photo session. Billy hurries with the make-up, applying thick kohl to Knowles' eyelid. "I'm doing a modern version of a Sophia Loren eye," he informs Q. "A bit 70s, A bit Ursula Andress."
The girls are laced into tight corsets and impossibly high heels. Williams, a former criminal justice and sociology undergraduate, tries to breathe. "With beauty comes pain," she sighs. "My feet are hurting, and this corset is very painful."
She doesn't mind too much, is the implication, because it's all part of God's plan.
"He's here with us now. It's weird how he shows up," she says softly.
Q looks around.
"He's a friend. Sometimes you gotta sit and listen. That guy can respond to you."
The minutes are counting down, and soon DC will have to get into their stretch limo. The photographer is having kittens. When the trio finally stand in front of that pearly pink backdrop, the results are electrifying. Striking one pose after another, they make graceful, dramatic shapes – sort of Blanche DuBois meets En Vogue. Despite their magnificent effort, Tony, their hulk of a bodyguard, is getting bored.
"Say quarter pounder," he asks Q. We oblige, and Tony cracks up. "Kwarta pownda," he mimics.
In an attempt to distract him, Q asks who DC has to be guarded from. At first their audience was "small kids and 80% females", he says but, now they're getting older, men are interested. "Mostly," Tony concludes, "I'm protecting their jewellery."
Once the session ends, the girls dispense kisses all round, rush to do an extra shoot for the Until There's A Cure AIDS charity next door, and make for the MTV Awards. After the show that night they have to finish a track in the studio before doing another day's intensive promotion. There's no rest for the fabulous. Reported by guardian.co.uk 15 hours ago.
"She invited us to her 35th birthday! We were so excited!" trills Beyoncé (pronounced Bay-onsay) Knowles, founder member and lead singer of Destiny's Child. She's reminiscing about the first time they met Whitney Houston, in 1998.
"We scrambled up all our money, got us some outfits. We were the only group that came dressed as a group. Everybody was sayin': 'Y'all are like the Supremes.'" When Knowles and Kelly Rowland (second singer) shook Houston's hand, they both burst into tears.
These are the things that R'n'B dreams are made of. But there was to be more. Destiny's Child took off, and this year, in their youthful exuberance, the trio asked Houston to appear with them at the US MTV Awards. "We were gonna say: 'We've found the fourth member,'" Knowles says gleefully. Then pauses. "But it didn't work out. Never mind. She's an inspiration to us all."
It's not surprising that R&B's queen diva declined the offer of playing fourth fiddle to the biggest teen girl group in America (she's got a lot on her mind these days). But it's that combination of naivety and Southern sass that has seen the Texan girls clock up 6m sales of their second album, The Writing's on the Wall. The record has birthed four huge hit singles, including Bills, Bills, Bills and Say My Name, and is still shifting 70,000 units per week.
A year ago they were virtual R&B nobodies, now they have Grammy nominations and Mobo awards coming out of their ears. It has not been plain sailing, however. With the acrimonious departure of two original members earlier this year, and the recent exit of fourth member Farrah Franklin after just five months, job security in Destiny's Child is up there with the manager's seat at Chelsea FC.
Reading on mobile? Watch here
Q gets the full story on the day that Destiny's Child – DC to their fans – are to appear at the MTV Awards in New York. Knowles, Rowland (19) and third member Michelle Williams (20) arrive in a stretch limousine at Chelsea Piers, an entertainment complex by the river. The sofa disappears under mountains of Prada and Gucci handbags. The photographer and his crew are furiously painting a backdrop in time for the photo session, but they needn't have worried. Hair and make-up takes five hours.
While her sistas get ready, Knowles chats to Q in a café overlooking the Hudson. She's a self-assured and extremely beautiful 19-year-old who regularly clicks her fingers or punches her right hand into her left palm to illustrate a point. Q asks a question, and Knowles just … goes.
In a soft Texan drawl she tells how, at nine years old, already a veteran of talent shows and beauty pageants, she and schoolmate Rowland formed a group in their hometown of Houston. They were joined by friends LeToya Luckett and LeTavia Robertson, and managed by Knowles's father Matthew. The group jetted round the country playing talent showcases, in an effort to get a record deal. They would dedicate every summer vacation to the group, rehearsing five hours a day. They would watch archive tapes of the Supremes, analyzing the Motown stars' every move. A vocal coach moved into their back apartment and, instead of paying rent, gave the group voice lessons.
"We were young and sacrificed a lot. I had to give up cheerleading, as did the others," says Knowles.
Dad left his job selling medical equipment and dedicated himself to DC. Mom took time away from her Houston hair salon to become the girls' stylist and personal assistant. In 1995, now aged 13, they were signed to Elektra by Sylvia Rhone, the woman behind En Vogue. They had a short-lived production deal with LA and Babyface sideman Daryl Simmonds, and then they got dropped.
"We thought the world was at an end," sighs Knowles. But it wasn't and Columbia signed them within the month. DC spent the next two years recording their self-titled debut. Though produced mainly by Dwayne Wiggins from hyperactive R'n'B boys Tony! Toni! Tone!, the stand-out track No, No, No was cut with Fugees impresario Wyclef Jean. Through him, DC arrived at their trademark staccato, rhythmic style almost by accident.
"We were in the studio one night with Wyclef, all really tired. I sang melody to the fast music track, for a joke and Wyclef said, That's hot! Do it like that," recalls Knowles. At first she refused, saying she sounded like a chipmunk. Eventually she agreed to try. The girls recorded the song in 57 minutes, and came up with a No 1 R&B hit. "That's how the whole fast-singing rhythmic thing started," says Knowles. "Then we went right into recording the next album." The follow-up, The Writing's on the Wall, was banged out in two months.
Knowles wrote and co-produced 17 tracks with She'kspere and Timbaland, superstar producers of tricky-clicky R&B, and also worked with Missy Elliott. The result is an audacious mix of raw R&B bass beats, baroque samples and daring vocal harmonies, a cross between TLC and Kraftwerk.
"I grew up listening to Stevie Wonder, Donny Hathaway, En Vogue. I like old school. Kelly is more alternative, and we both listen to gospel. When you bring all that together, it's really cool," says Knowles. As each single "blew up" in the US and Europe, DC crossed over to the pop market with ease, and seemingly couldn't put a foot wrong. But in February 2000 they had what Knowles calls "The Change".
They were about to shoot the video for Say My Name, which was to be their biggest hit so far, when Luckett and Robertson sent a letter to the DC office firing Matthew Knowles as manager. This came after months of internal tension within the group. Knowles chooses her words carefully.
"We tried everything. Counselling with our church, our youth pastor. Rotating rooms. But it was two and two. Our vision of the group was different from theirs." The other two, it seems, wanted DC to be more "street" and less Christian. They complained about money, but Knowles insists that everything was split 25%. After protracted negotiation, the two girls left the group.
"It was a stressful time for Kelly and I," says Knowles. "We were very depressed and hurt."
Reading on mobile? Watch here
The remaining two soldiered on, prayed hard, and found two new members – Michelle Williams, a former backing singer with Monica, and Farrah Franklin, a dancer in their 'Bills, Bills, Bills' video.
Since then Luckett and Robertson have apparently been "dissin'" the band in the press. The remaining two have kept quiet. But now Rowland, tall with cropped hair and a feisty attitude, lets rip.
"They were very negative and jealous. Am I right? I don't sound mean, do I? I'm just tellin' the truth," she says, while Knowles's mother Rina, a friendly, mumsy woman with a smart blouse and a pierced eyebrow adds: "They didn't have the ability."
"They weren't able to do leads by themselves," says Rowland. "We went to voice lessons because we wanted strong vocals. They wouldn't do that."
Billy B, make-up artist to Dc, Mary J Blige, Pink, and a good friend of drag queen RuPaul, butts in: "… I told you a hundred times!" Everyone laughs.
"They were late for interviews and photo shoots. That's not the philosophy of Destiny's Child," continues Mrs K. "The group is serious about what they do. Nothin' comes before DC but God."
"They'd just show up when it was time to make money," snips Rowland.
"Go Kelly!!" screeches Billy B.
Farrah Franklin, too, fell foul of the DC regime – it appears it all got too much for her. One day she failed to show up for an MTV show in Sacramento.
"That was such a huge thing for us," says Knowles testily. "It took us nine years to get on MTV. We'd worked so hard to get to that point. Whatever your problems, can't you hold off until you get back to the hotel? It showed how she'd only been in this for five months. That's what happens when you give somebody that kind of success in two weeks and they don't have to work for it."
And since then they've carried on with just the three of them. Reviews have been good, sales are still high and the only thing they have to worry about now is their image. Girl groups are routinely required to "up" the foxy factor, and the devout DC find themselves treading a line between sensual and sexually explicit. When they squeeze into today's costumes (racy rock'n'roll motorcycle chic), there is consternation over the size of William's cleavage. The ever-inventive Tina Knowles has customized three black leather S&M corsets, covering them with rhinestones to give them a bit of dazzle. The only problem is Williams is revealing a little too much. Mrs K pokes at the girl's curvy bosom.
"If it's too open, we press 'em back down," explains Williams. From Rockford, Illinois, she has been part of the Pentecostal church all her life. "Back in the day it was a very strict religion, and some women still don't believe in wearing pants, make up, highlights in your hair. I didn't come up in that era. I wear pants and sexy tops."
Reading on mobile? Watch here
Despite their bare legs and midriffs, the group are careful to keep things the right side of smutty. "Classy" is the DC buzzword.
"People have tried to get us into bathing suits," says Knowles, "but there's a line we draw. We wear nothin' with our butt cheeks out, our boobs out. We like sexy clothes, but still classy. Not so people can say, How can they wear that and be a Christian?"
To those R&B girls who like to reveal more, Knowles says diplomatically that it's "their business. Who am I to judge them?"
DC have a huge following amongst drag queens, a factor no doubt enhanced by Independent Women, DC's contribution to the Charlie's Angels film soundtrack. That's to be the title of their next album and ideas are already in the mix, along with plans for Knowles to do a solo project. Her star quality has been noted, but she is not about to do a Diana Ross. "I heard Prince wrote a song for me, I'd love to work with him," she gushes, "If I do, it'll probably be as a solo side project, but I wouldn't do it to compete with the group."
Come 5pm the girls are to be at the MTV Awards in an hour, and they still haven't done the photo session. Billy hurries with the make-up, applying thick kohl to Knowles' eyelid. "I'm doing a modern version of a Sophia Loren eye," he informs Q. "A bit 70s, A bit Ursula Andress."
The girls are laced into tight corsets and impossibly high heels. Williams, a former criminal justice and sociology undergraduate, tries to breathe. "With beauty comes pain," she sighs. "My feet are hurting, and this corset is very painful."
She doesn't mind too much, is the implication, because it's all part of God's plan.
"He's here with us now. It's weird how he shows up," she says softly.
Q looks around.
"He's a friend. Sometimes you gotta sit and listen. That guy can respond to you."
The minutes are counting down, and soon DC will have to get into their stretch limo. The photographer is having kittens. When the trio finally stand in front of that pearly pink backdrop, the results are electrifying. Striking one pose after another, they make graceful, dramatic shapes – sort of Blanche DuBois meets En Vogue. Despite their magnificent effort, Tony, their hulk of a bodyguard, is getting bored.
"Say quarter pounder," he asks Q. We oblige, and Tony cracks up. "Kwarta pownda," he mimics.
In an attempt to distract him, Q asks who DC has to be guarded from. At first their audience was "small kids and 80% females", he says but, now they're getting older, men are interested. "Mostly," Tony concludes, "I'm protecting their jewellery."
Once the session ends, the girls dispense kisses all round, rush to do an extra shoot for the Until There's A Cure AIDS charity next door, and make for the MTV Awards. After the show that night they have to finish a track in the studio before doing another day's intensive promotion. There's no rest for the fabulous. Reported by guardian.co.uk 15 hours ago.