Soul Power
With a new CD an the "American Idol" title under his belt, Ruben Studdard has come a long way in a very short time.
It’s mid–afternoon on a wintry day in New York City, and Ruben Studdard is holed up in his hotel room, trying to savor a few moments of downtime before his schedule hits overload once again.
His supersized frame is sprawled out on the couch of his upscale suite in Times Square, and he’s flipping through television channels, lucking up on “The Cosby Show,” his favorite. His lunch is waiting for him, as the smell of shrimp with broccoli wafts through the brown paper bag.
But even lunchtime can’t go without interruptions—not for an “American Idol.” He must do yet another interview, get ready for another appearance, then sing later on in the evening at a star-studded, national event. Studdard seems a bit overworked, and understandably a bit tired. After all, over the space of just a few months, he won the “American Idol” TV talent competition, went on a national tour, finished his debut album, “Soulful,” and embarked on a heavy promotional schedule.
But he’s not ready to do the celebrity complaining bit just yet.
“It’s just been nonstop. But it’s fun, though, man,” says the 24-year-old. “It’s not like I’m shoveling coal—not like that’s not a respectable profession, but it’s hard work, you know?”
It’s that kind of reality check that shows Studdard—better known as “RUUUUUUUUUUBEEEEEEN” or the “Velvet Teddy Bear” to the masses—hasn’t let instant superstardom rob him of his common sense. Despite attaining a bit of bling-bling (a Louis Vuitton suitcase, a flashy watch) and celebrity perks, he’s still the same, lovable mama’s boy from Birmingham, Alabama, who grew up singing in the church choir.
“This fame, and all this, and being popular, it hasn’t gotten to our heads,” says his older brother Kevin, who, thanks to his exposure as his brother’s booster on “Idol,” has been touched by celebrity as well. “We still know one day the Lord can take all this away.”
Before he got “all this,” Studdard was just another struggling musician, singing with his band in Birmingham,. He was raised by his parents, Kevin and Emily Studdard, who are now divorced. Though he was an only child, his father had a son, Kevin Jr., from a previous relationship, and the pair grew up close friends.
Like many R&B singers, Studdard’s singing roots are in the church—his grandmother and mother had the young Studdard there every Sunday, from Bible study onward, and he eventually became part of the church choir.
It was there, Studdard says, that he learned the soulful style that would eventually make him a star.
“What people want to hear in a rhythm and blues record is somebody just singing their heart out, and you learn to do that in the church, because in church, you have to give it all up,” says Studdard, who attends Rising Star Baptist Church when he’s home. “You believe in what you’re singing about and that’s Jesus Christ, so you put your heart into singing at church.”
Not that Studdard was just singing gospel tunes. Kevin remembers Ruben could sing everything—and would sing just about everything, at any time. Back then, Kevin remembers it as just plain annoying.
“I’m not going to lie to you, he drove me nuts,” says Kevin, who recalls using all sorts of threatening tactics to get his brother to stop, albeit unsuccessfully. “He knew all the words to every song that was on the radio. I guess it was him training his voice from a young age.”
Studdard later joined a gospel group, and for a while he actually heard the church calling. “My brother at one time thought that the Lord was calling him to be a minister,” Kevin says. “My brother still has deep religious roots, but I think he was saying that it wasn’t his time. He’s not running from it, he just thought that it wasn’t his time.”
Studdard was also a strong athlete, and went to Alabama A&M on a football scholarship, following in the footsteps of his older brother, who did the same at Clark Atlanta University. But Studdard never got his degree. He dropped out of A&M before his third year was up, and confided to his brother that he was looking for something more out of life.
“He called me up and he said, ‘The Lord has given me a talent that I don’t think I’m using to the fullest,’ “Kevin remembers. Studdard eventually got together his own band, singing in clubs and writing his own music in hopes of getting his big break. But it would take a TV show to get him the record deal that he long dreamed about.
On paper, Studdard seems like the unlikeliest candidate to become an “American Idol.” After all, although the hit Fox TV program is a talent show, its judges—Paula Abdul, Randy Jackson, and the villainous Simon Cowell—have made it clear that it’s not just about talent. It’s about who has the right clothes, the prettiest face, the most personality, the most radio-friendly voice. In other words, who can be the most marketable commodity.
Studdard, with his overweight frame in loose-fitting garb, certainly didn’t seem to fit the bill when he auditioned for the show in the second season of early 2003. Even his older brother didn’t think he had much of a shot. “Did I think he had a chance to win? Nah, honestly I didn’t,” Kevin says. “Because last year’s show was based so much on looks, and what an ‘American Idol’ should look like.”
But in a testament to Studdard’s talent, substance triumphed over style. With his deep voice that sounded like a young Luther Vandross, he won over the judges—and the American public—from the moment he appeared on the show.
“He is an exceptionally good singer,” raves Clive Davis, the music mogul who oversaw Studdard’s debut album and whose star-making skills have created careers for everyone from Alicia Keys and Whitney Houston to Santana and Janis Joplin. “This guy is a legitimate talent.”
How popular was Ruben? So popular that middle-aged white women and young girls were feverishly pressing redial on their phones, getting him past round–after–round in the competition. How popular? The “205” clothing he wore in the early rounds—paying homage to his Birmingham area code—became a hot-seller. How popular? Critics picked him as the odds-on favorite weeks before the final decision was made in May.
Studdard claims he wasn’t even worried about the acid-tongued criticisms from Cowell, although it has reduced other contestants, men and women, to tears.
“I would never let another man’s opinion shape the way I feel about myself. I just went out there and had fun. If they thought I was good, then it was cool,” he says.
Studdard hadn’t even intended to try out for the show until he decided to hitch a ride with a friend to Nashville, where the show was having auditions. Kevin found out his brother was auditioning when he got a crazy-sounding message from his brother on his cell phone. By the time he called him back, he found out that Studdard was waiting among throngs of “American Idol” hopefuls for a chance to audition for the hit program.
“He was sleeping outside in the cold, waiting to get a number for the audition,” Kevin recalls. Studdard smoked the audition, and most of the other TV rounds too. Of course, there were some close decisions, but to hear Studdard tell it, he was never too pressed about it.
“I was just happy to have been in the show for as long as I was,” says Studdard nonchalantly. “To get an opportunity like that only comes once in a lifetime. All of us have been afforded so many opportunities just from being on the show.”
Even the night of the final vote between him and Clay Aiken, Studdard insists he wasn’t nervous. “I am just ready to go home. It was time to go—it was really time to go,” he says.
His brother, however, was such a bundle of nerves he was depressed the whole day of the finale, convinced his brother would lose. “When it came down to him and Clay, I honestly thought Clay was going to win. I was like so depressed that whole day,” says Kevin. “In my heart, I felt my brother should win, but would he win?”
Studdard’s cool demeanor could have been due in part to the special pep talks he had been receiving from none other than Fred Hammond. Introduced by a mutual friend during the competition, Hammond made a point to call Studdard before each show and encourage him.
But Hammond says Studdard didn’t have any nerves that needed calming. “He was comfortable, real comfortable,” Hammond says. “I didn’t have to pump him up.”
Although Studdard did win, his victory was razor close. Out of 24 million votes cast by fans, only 130,000 votes separated he and Aiken. Studdard says he wasn’t surprised it was such a tight race. “It didn’t shock me one bit. I knew nobody wasn’t going to flat out win ... because we were all talented,” he says.
Perhaps because the competition was so tight, when the contest was finally over, it seemed as if there were two “American Idol” winners instead of one. The forces behind “American Idol” decided to release the singles of both Aiken and Studdard at the same time (Aiken’s “This is the Night/Bridge Over Troubled Water” sold more than one million copies, with Studdard’s “Flying Without Wings/Superstar” close behind).
But after a few weeks, it was as if the media was crowning Aiken the “American Idol.” He got the cover of Rolling Stone first, was on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, sang at high-profile events like the World Series, and even released his album, “Measure of a Man,” first. And Studdard fans were grumbling about unfair treatment.
But talk to Studdard and others, and they say any rivalry between he and Aiken is a media creation. “Everybody’s getting all upset about it,” says Kevin of the attention showered on Aiken. “Black people have really made it out to be real racial. I try to steer clear of that.” Indeed, ask Kevin his opinion, and he laughs: “I plead the fifth for fear it may incriminate me!”
Studdard dismisses the controversy and expresses nothing but love for his friend Aiken. “It’s not really an issue for me...I’m over it,” he says. “People will have you trippin’. If you listen to people, they will have you messed up. I just listen to myself.”
Besides, with a Grammy nomination for “Superstar” and his own album, he believes he’ll rack up the same kind of platinum sales that Aiken has achieved. “Soulful,” got off to a strong sales start, and it got strong reviews with its mix of traditional and contemporary R&B. Indeed, although there are classic ballads in the vein of Vandross, there are also songs to appeal to today’s youth, including a collaboration with rapper Fat Joe called “What Is Sexy,” which features Studdard singing lines like “What is Sexy...Sex Me.”
When asked about those lyrics, Studdard reacts with surprise, as if he’s not aware of the verses he’s singing on his own album. But in the next breath, he says, “I’m grown, so, I’m not going to make a child’s album.”
But it’s far from raunchy, especially compared to today’s R&B fare. And he does have a collaboration with his friend, Hammond, on the beautiful ballad “We Have Not Forgotten.”
Hammond says Studdard inspired him to write the song. “I thought about his demeanor and I thought about his life and how he appeared to me with all the stuff going on, he was still very grounded and centered where God was concerned. He has definitely kept this perspective on things that are important—family, friends, God.”
Studdard says no matter how much success he attains as an R&B singer, he always plans to honor his gospel roots on his albums: “That’s just a part of who I am.”
And Kevin anticipates Studdard showing even more of that side in the future, embarking on a gospel career after a few years. And there’s still the possibility of ministering. “When he sits there and preaches to me, I feel like I’m in church...I see that being his calling later in life.”
Kevin admits the show has changed his brother just a little bit—you’ll find him in the spa a lot more these days, getting manicures and pedicures. And he’s not carrying his own bags if he can help it. “If the hotel doesn’t have a bellman to carry his bags, he’s not going to stay there,” Kevin says.
But besides getting a loft in downtown Birmingham for his family to live in, Studdard isn’t trying to live the “Cribs” lifestyle. He doesn’t roll with an entourage, because, as he puts it, “entourages cost money.” And he still calls his mother every day, and makes sure he puts in a weekly call to Dad and his other family members.
“The only thing that has really changed for me is just everybody knows who I am now, so when I go places I’m recognized more often,” says Studdard. “But the way I lived my life or the friends I have are sort of the same people. I know it might sound kind of boring.”
Kevin echoes those sentiments.
“Success has not gotten to him. My bother’s not a diva, a male diva,” he says. Which is good, because if he was, I’d have to knock him in the head.”
