There's a sound. The one you make when your spirit is open, your mind focused, your heart receptive and your body more than willing.
It's the sound of liberation. Experimentation of hip-hop, rock and whatever lies in between. Of pushing your boundaries to the absolute brink and then laying back in the cut, only to push them a few inches more. It's sound of passion, purpose, and the knowledge that, no matter what, you are gonna play this game by your gut, not by the rules, because, in the end, those instincts and a fly pair of shoes are all you can really count on.
St. Juste knows that sound. And she lets it burst free and rip, in all its glory and glee, on The Confession Booth, her exhilarating Columbia Records/Sony Urban Music debut. Filled with guitars, beat boxes, melodies, insight, banging rhythms in your face attitude and sexy sass, The Confession Booth is a bold statement from a woman who is not afraid to make them. "I wanted to give people a blueprint of who I am," St. Juste explains, "and since I grew up Catholic, the confession booth was always a place where you bared your soul. So this album is a way to give folks a brief excerpt of my life my background and my creativity."
That life begins in Boynton Beach, Florida. St. Juste's parents were Haitian immigrants who were brought together through an arranged marriage, which fell apart by the time St. Juste was born. She, the youngest of three, and her siblings were raised by a mother who, despite a strict convent upbringing, had an artistic bent. "There was always music in the house," St. Juste recalls. "It was one of the things that helped me to shape my world."
That world was one of strict rules, firm discipline, religious studies and an emphasis on getting an education and becoming something important like a doctor or a lawyer. St. Juste had a rebellious streak and as she grew up, that streak became more pronounced as she began to reject the expectations that her loving mother (and society) had for her. Music began to take on a greater importance and she began singing though she admits, "It was a private thing. People didn't even know that I sang because I really didn't sing in front of crowds and was very shy about that aspect of my creativity."
In school St. Juste sang in the choir, was in the school band, and studied theater. In the late 90's, it was her love of drama that brought her to New York City, where she landed a role in a play produced by the National Black Theater. She quickly adapted to the life of an actor in NYC, going on auditions, and working a series of dead end office gigs in order to keep afloat in between gigs. She enjoyed work in a number of plays including productions overseas and gained acceptance into a London based theater program affiliated with Oxford University. After completing the programSt. Juste returned to NYC, where, under the name "Margie St. Juste," she secured a small role as "Alexandria Beaumont" in the 1997 indie film Hav Plenty, which helped her to earn a SAG card.
In 2002, St. Juste was introduced to Pitch Black Entertainment (Hakim Young, Don Baker and Jermaine Mobley) who signed her to a production deal and began working with her on what would become The Confession Booth.
Heavily influenced by legends Janis Joplin and Tina Turner, as well as underground singers like Tamar Kali and Imani Uzuri, St. Juste was emphatic that the songs she and Pitch Black collaborated on display "a person who is not afraid to feel. I am a strong woman but I'm also vulnerable but that doesn't mean I am weak. I just wanted to have the songs that would inspire all people." The studio sessions were intense, reflective, and rigorous, but ultimately the hard work paid off.
The Confession Booth's first single is the hard-hitting and rhythmically charged "5 Dollars." Cut from a slice of all-too-real-life, "5 Dollars" captures that lowdown time when all you've got in the world is what's in your pocket. The song was inspired by a rough patch St. Juste went through when she was "broke, hot as hell and knew I had to write this all down."
Another rugged track is "Rider" set to an off-kilter, hip-hop inflected beat, the song celebrates everyone who really wants something out of life and those who refuse to let anything stand in the way of their dreams. As St. Juste breaks it down, "It's about the human spirit and wanting to be yourself."
Equally heartfelt is "Validation," which kicks off with the lines "they told me I should smile/try not to talk so loud." A love song to the disenfranchised, "Validation" is "me in a nutshell," says St. Juste. "It's about me always being the wild child and not being able to fit in but still staying true to yourself." On a more playful sexy tip is "Big Shoes," which showcases St. Juste's naughty sense of humor and is a song all the ladies will understand.
With emotional lyrics and rock steady grooves, The Confession Booth is feisty and fraught with feelings It's a record that St. Juste hopes "will inspire people to go for their dreams and know that it's ok to screw up and be you."
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