Alice Smith
Just your everyday genre-mashing soul
eccentric with a four-octave vocal range

Inside the confines of Portland, Oregon’s Doug Fir Lounge, the commingling of humans watching left-of-center R&B mistress Alice Smith isn’t just impressive—it’s faith-affirming. In a Jesse Jackson, Rainbow Coalition, wet-dream sort of way. Patchouli wafts against Aqua Velva. Kangol shares space with Converse. And it’s all one sweaty family as the ²⁹-year-old Brooklyn resident—equal parts Mary J. and Karen O—tears into her summertime call to arms “Woodstock,” roaring and cooing while her ginormous hoop earrings keep time.

An hour later, sunk into a sofa with a glass of rosé, Smith is warding off a bleary-eyed couple who want to smoke a bowl with her. “I’ve been talking to my mom about struggling to enjoy the moment when I’m in it,” she says. “But there’s lots of distractions, lots of extra work that comes with being on a big label. I’m just trying not to be bothered by all that.”

Released on the tiny BBE imprint last fall, her debut, For Lovers, Dreamers & Me, was a self-assured mix of flamboyant art pop and crunchy neo-soul that landed on the tips of tastemaking tongues. A year later, she’s now signed to Epic, which will rerelease the album in October with a handful of newly recorded tracks.

The big jump has already positioned
Smith firmly behind the velvet rope.

Four days before the Doug Fir gig, she performed at a Grammy Foundation tribute to Quincy Jones in Los Angeles. “It was, like, a for real, real show. Like, televised, red-carpet-type shit,” Smith says, giggling uncontrollably. “I got dolled up. In Valentino.” She paws at the Valentino handbag at her side—a gift from the designer—like it’s her boyfriend’s thigh.

But even after leaving jaws dangling with a steamy version of “Stormy Weather,” touching the garb of original R&B diva Nancy Wilson, and clinking champagne flutes with John Legend and Kanye West, Smith walked away unintimidated. Kinda.

“Not by them, anyway,” she says. “A little
by Quincy Jones, though. I mean…Quincy Jones!
Shutthefuckup! I was shaking.”

B Y BART BLASENGAME PHOTOGRAPH B Y MIKE SCHREIBER

FAST FACTS

> Kermit the Frog’s “The Rainbow Connection” inspired her CD’s title. “I was thinking what my music made people think about,” Smith explains. “I just thought about the Muppets.” > Don’t bother with soul diva comparisons: Smith tips her satin head wrap to the likes of Queen, Portishead, and Björk.