Hey honeys and hustlers,

We are obsessed with categorization. Algorithms demand labels, and business gurus constantly preach that the "riches are in the niches." There's something profoundly refreshing about artists who refuse to be boxed in. D'Angelo, whose artistry we honor today, never claimed to make "neo-soul" music—he made Black music. Full stop. And in that refusal to be confined, he created something timeless. I was going to publish something else today, but that can wait. Today, we honor a legend.

P.S. Stay until the end to see me in Richmond, VA next month!

We're constantly told to find our niche, narrow our focus, and speak to a specific audience. And yes, there's practical wisdom in understanding who you're talking to. But somewhere along the way, your niche can become a cage rather than a strategy. When Brittany Howard was asked what kind of music she makes, she didn't say "blues" or "rock" or any genre that would neatly fit on a Billboard list. She said: "Fat, Black, queer music." It's a declaration of wholeness—a refusal to let the industry's filing system erase any part of her identity or influence.

D'Angelo operated from a similar place of creative freedom. He drew from gospel, funk, soul, jazz, hip-hop, and rock—not to create a fusion genre, but because that's what Black music has always been: a vast, interconnected ecosystem of innovation and influence. To call it "neo-soul" was to diminish its depth and deny its lineage.

Aligning with a niche can feel like safety, but it often comes at the cost of authenticity and innovation. When we confine ourselves to a single category, we limit the full expression of our influences and experiences and allow others to define the boundaries of what we can create. The artists who create work that resonates across generations are rarely the ones who stay safely within their lane. They're the ones who claimed a broader, self-proclaimed identity and made space for all their contradictions.

So, are the riches really in the niches? Or are they in our ability to be our truest, fullest selves?

Maybe the answer is both—and neither. Maybe the real opportunity lies in:

D’Angelo only released 3 albums in his far too short lifetime. He took 14 years between his second and third albums just to learn a symphony of different guitars. His Versuz didn’t actually have him competing with anyone! He has no contemporaries because he was so dedicated to honing his craft, musical style, and voice. D'Angelo didn't “make it” because he found the perfect niche or invented a new one. He made it because he refused to make his art smaller than his vision. He honored every influence, every ancestor, every late night in the studio where the music took him somewhere unexpected.

What if we stopped asking "What's my niche?" and started asking "What's my truth?"

What if we let our work be as multifaceted as we are—drawing from every influence, speaking to every part of our experience, and trusting that the right people will find it not despite its complexity, but because of it? The riches aren't in making yourself smaller. They're in having the courage to be your fullest, truest self—and creating from that place of wholeness.

Just like D'Angelo did. Just like Angie Stone did. Just like Brittany Howard does.

Rest in peace to them both, and gratitude to D'Angelo for showing us what it looks like to create a body of work with no skips.

Play some D’Angelo today. It’s good for the soul.