Falling Up

Pop soul singer Lamya moved to New York after reading about Madonna's early club days; now she's causing her own commotion

by Tony Phillips

Lamya knows how to introduce herself. Not only did the 28-year-old singer/songwriter headline Victor Calderone’s Provocateur party, beating a drum while chanting “bring me men” from her song “Empires,” but she also turned it out at an industry-only showcase at the Bottom Line, which had jaded label execs jumping to their feet. At one point, while ripping into “Black Mona Lisa,” which will be her first single, she sent audience member Kevin Aviance into a convulsion screaming, “Work, Miss Lamya!” She responding by snapping her fingers in a wide arc overhead. Afterward, photographer David LaChapelle confided: “I don’t have to tell you, she’s fucking fantastic!”

Soon, you can decide for yourself. Lamya’s self- written and produced debut Learning From Falling will be released July 30 on J Records, the high-profile label from music mogul Clive Davis (the man behind legendary acts from Janis Joplin to Whitney Houston). But you might already be familiar with Lamya’s work. She was a backup singer for Soul II Soul, David Bowie and Duran Duran among others. Originally from the Middle East, Lamya moved to New York after reading a story about Madonna in the ’80s. Now, she’s ready to take her unique blend of R&B, soul and pop to the mainstream. Pretty soon, she’ll be all over the map. In the meantime, we caught up with her for a more intimate introduction.

You have a very interesting background geographically. I was born in Mombassa because my grandfather was the Governor of Kenya. My mother went to school there and had me there, but I’m not Kenyan. I’m sure they’d be quick to point that out. Historically, Oman colonized part of Africa. Zanzibar was a Sultanate until there was a revolution.

So you’re from Oman, which is so beautiful. Isn’t it? It’s so unspoiled because we have been secluded and kept to ourselves. We call it the Switzerland of the Middle East.

I’ve seen clips of the Sultan of Oman. He is such a queen! Is that unusual for a Muslim country? [Laughs.] It’s very unusual. He walks a fine line, but he doesn’t flaunt it and has managed to keep in line with the Saudis. We share their border so you can imagine. But I’m not sure if Oman’s ruler is actually out. He had an arranged marriage with one of his cousins. He gave her a divorce because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to give her a life that was fair. I always thought that made him such a wonderful man.

And you’ve got a great coming to New York story. I read this really old article on Maripol, who designed Madonna’s jewelry [in the ’80s]. She’s Lebanese, so I guess that’s why we even had the article in Oman in the first place. It was pretty restricted back then. [The story] listed the clubs Madonna went to and said she met Jellybean and he pressed a demo. I thought: There’s a plan! So I took off, leaving a silly little tape as an explanation for my poor mum and dad. It had things like Phil Oakey’s “Electric Dreams” on it.

What was going on in New York then? It was ’89. I called some Canadian friends from the American University in Cairo. I didn’t even know Canada was in a different country until they said, “Hello, we’re in Quebec.” They had a brother here who was a friend of Maripol’s so I went over to see her. She said, “Oh darling, yes, Madonna’s having a party tonight at Palladium.” She said I could go. Do you remember Howie Montaugh?

The infamous doorman? Lamya, you’re taking me back! He was still alive then. Maripol told me to tell Howie she sent me. I went over and he said [in her best nasally Montaugh], “You shoulda called.” I said, “I’ll call you next time, but can I get in today?” And he said, “All right, but next time be sure you call.” And I thought, gosh these people are strange. Then anyone who even looked at me got, “Hello! I sing!” I thought it was a new concept. I didn’t know New York was filled with people who sing and tap dance on their heads and swing from the ceiling. The other thing I didn’t know was DJs don’t actually like you running up into the booth.

Oh, Lamya! [Laughs.] But no one said anything! I’d be like, “Hi, is Jellybean in there?” And they’d say, “Well, he’s DJ-ing right now” and I’d think, Oh for goodness sake! Then I’d roll right into saying, “Hello! I sing!”

You’ve toured with a lot of artists. Has touring changed a lot after September 11? I’ve never had it so good traveling! Before, I was treated like a terrorist. They just saw my passport and the rubber gloves came out. But from the 12th onward, I’ve traveled with an absolute arsenal in my hand luggage and never got stopped. I had scissors, tweezers, everything. I kept handing them in and [security would] be like, “Oh, right!” They’ve also been kinder. Now I get through before my manager. He has to take off his shoes and I just go sauntering through.

Do you have a favorite song on Learning From Falling? It’s between “Splitting Atoms” and “The Woman Who.” And then I like “Full Frontal Fridays.” It’s my only cheeky number. But “Splitting Atoms” illustrates everything about my culture, how I think and my spiritual beliefs. I think I captured everything with that one.