Why Not Coco Jones?

Coco Jones appreciates constructive criticism. Take her dance moves, for instance. Early feedback on her body-rolling in music videos was, well, blunt. “I deadass rehearsed for hours! And people were like, ‘She should not be dancing,’” the singer says, throwing her head back in laughter. “OK, got it. Good to know. So what do I want to do with that?” It’s all data to use on her way to world domination. “I expect people to tell the truth. I’m not gonna stop dancing,” she says. “It’s more about how do I turn this into something more believable?”

In person, the 27-year-old is disarmingly effusive. She punctuates sarcasm with a squealing laugh and opens thoughts with a knowing “girl,” swinging between a drawn-out version (“Girrrlll…”) and a clipped declarative (“Girl.”). Being radiantly personable, along with her unique Coco cadence, has been integral to Jones’ steady success. Since releasing her debut album, Why Not More?, in April, she’s checked off many of the milestones of an R&B superstar in the making: She made her Met Gala debut in May; got engaged to her partner of two years, Cleveland Cavaliers guard Donovan Mitchell, in July; opened for Brandy and Monica on their The Boy Is Mine arena tour this fall; and expanded her holiday footprint with a new Christmas song, “Skip My House.” In February, she’ll perform “Lift Every Voice and Sing” at the Super Bowl pregame ceremony before Bad Bunny headlines the halftime show.

But if you ask Jones how she’s experienced the past year, she’ll neither gloat nor settle for a tidy answer. Instead, she pauses, scrunches her face, and searches for the right word. “It’s not pessimistic,” she says. What she lands on is closer to skepticism. The singer has caught herself thinking like an athlete lately, obsessively analyzing game tape: “Like, damn, why didn’t that do what I thought it would? OK, so that’s what they like?” More data to consider.

The former child actor, raised in Lebanon, Tennessee, just outside Nashville, had to unlearn people-pleasing before she could trust her instincts. Her mother, Javonda, a singer herself and Coco’s first manager and vocal coach, guided her through the toughest material early — Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Aretha Franklin. “My audition song was ‘Chain of Fools.’ Like, girl. Why,” Jones jokes. (Javonda, who has basically the same face and upbeat energy as her daughter, hangs back with Jones’ squad at the photo shoot, watching her from the sidelines.) Jones’ father, former NFL defensive linebacker Mike Jones, instilled a strong work ethic in her, too. But after several years in the Disney Channel ecosystem — appearing in Radio Disney’s Next Big Thing, the musical film Let It Shine, and the sitcom Good Luck Charlie — Jones was dropped by the House of Mouse-owned Hollywood Records in 2014. She felt unmoored and, worse, like she hadn’t even gotten to share her real self with the world.

“When I’d see other Disney Channel stars, I’d be like, ‘Girl, I’m coming for your slot. Get scared.’ I wasn’t like, ‘Can we take a picture?’ I was like, ‘How’d you get there? How do I do that?’”

That changed in 2020, when a video Jones made talking about the low points of her career and her experiences with colorism in Hollywood went viral. Her subsequent casting in Bel-Air — Peacock’s modern reimagining of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that concluded its fourth and final season this month — as the bougie, carefree Hilary Banks revived her momentum and brought a new audience for her music. In 2022, Jones signed with Def Jam and released her debut EP, What I Didn’t Tell You. “I think EP-me, people were like, ‘Look at this actress singing really well! She is a great actress.’ And I was like, ‘Oh no, I do music first,’” Jones says. It didn’t take long to convince them: Her sentimental breakout hit “ICU” earned Jones her first Grammy Award win in 2024.

At the time, she worried the song’s success might typecast her as a lovesick balladeer. “I actually don’t yearn much. I’m not a yearner,” Jones insists. “I’m more like: I’m that girl. Hello?” She proves as much on Why Not More? songs like “Taste,” a stealthy club track interpolating Britney Spears’ “Toxic,” and “Keep It Quiet,” which sets her low, smoldering vocals to an insistent beat. Even her less empowered songs still feel plenty powerful: “Here We Go (Uh Oh)” flips a sample of soul singer Lenny Williams’ classic plea “’Cause I Love You” into a scorching track about an ex she can’t escape. “He sounded frustrated. ‘Girl, don’t you get it?!’ Like, hello,” she says. “I thought, what’s the rawest thing I can say that makes sense with this? What frustrates me? What is the thing that I went through, like, ‘How do I get out of this?’ So many girls are in that cycle.”

Jones thinks her deep-feeling approach to R&B sets her apart from the emotional detachment that has long reigned in the genre. “So much that comes out is toxic,” she says. “Like: ‘I don’t want you. Never did. It’s only for me. Didn’t trust you. Never would.’ I’m like, can we try?” She laughs it off. “Can we see what happens first?” Dressed in black sweats, the singer reclined on a cream couch in a Bushwick, Brooklyn studio, reflecting on her transformative year, the pull of love songs, her upcoming wedding, and her hesitancy to share it all.

Now that your debut album is out, do you feel like you’ve moved past the underdog storyline?

In my own head, no. [Laughs] There’s still so much to be done to be what I want to be. And I also think, to the world, no. For example, when it first got announced that I was gonna be singing at the Super Bowl, [my fans were] like, “She deserves this. Finally.” I’m not there yet. There’s still this becoming thing. Maybe it’s not specifically underdog — like, damn, people aren’t paying attention. But they’re watching and waiting on me.

A big part of my transformation this year was sharing my personal life. I didn’t want people to see us out and be like, “What the heck? Coco is engaged?!” And they get to break the news. It was my truth first. I tell it first. Y’all don’t get to catch me! Surprisingly, to me, still people want to know what I’m doing in my life. I’m like, why y’all care about me?

Is it really still surprising?

Yes! I still have to remind myself: Girl, people think you’re famous. And I’m like, Ew, OK, I guess. I’ve never been a starstruck type, except when I saw Beyoncé and Rihanna. When I’d see other stars in the Disney Channel world, I’d be like, “Girl, I’m coming for your slot. Get scared.” I wasn’t like, “Can we take a picture?” I was like, “How’d you get there? How do I do that?”

“Girl, I would have read off the ingredients of Lay’s chips every day for my job. I needed that bag.”

You’ve always seemed to have a healthy, matter-of-fact relationship with fame.

It’s part of the job. And I’m not gonna complain, but I’m also not gonna subject myself to more of it if I can. My mom was always like, “You want to be a star? You want to go to a regular school?” And I was like, “Hell yeah, girl! I’m Hannah Montana, let’s go!” But experiencing it is always another thing. As a kid, I almost let it get to my head. And then I got disappointed by the job. That made me feel like, stay humble because they don’t care, for real. And it’s no shade. This is still a business. It ain’t about your little heart, little girl.

Aw.

Yeah, I know. Tears for real. But I needed that because I feel like if I had kept going up and up and up, I would’ve gotten lost in the sauce.

Being in show business requires a certain degree of self-preservation, but being an artist means you have to be vulnerable — is that hard for you?

I want the end goal so bad. I want the healing. I want the epiphany. And in music, I want the great song. I want the connection. Like, what do I have to do to get that? You gotta tell all your secrets, you gotta tell all your tea. OK, let’s do it. I’m grateful for the fearlessness that being in this job has required of me. Because I can look at a group of songwriters and be like, “Here’s why I’m insecure. Here’s what happened to me that f*cked me up.” I want the outcome, so I’m willing to dive in.

Some people are scared of the process.

I know it’s gonna be scary, though. I’m ready. Auditioning is scary. Being a kid and standing in front of that table with all those executives? They’ve seen a thousand kids, and you’re a thousand and one. You’re singing your heart out, and they’re talking in between or somebody’s on they phone, looking you up and down. You ain’t got no choice but to go there or go home. And I wasn’t going home.

You carved out your own version of Hilary Banks on Bel-Air. A lot of people, including myself, were skeptical of the show. Like, hm, a dramatized remake?

I felt like it was something good, but I also know that when you mess with a classic? Good luck. Honestly, I expected people to need to be convinced. I expected people to tap into it because it was kind of a gag: Carlton’s like this? Worst-case scenario, people were gonna be curious, and I was not mad at that. But it was also like, now’s the time? Now I’m relevant again? What a weird life I live. It had been a drought for, like, three years minimum. It was an overwhelming joy to have a consistent check again. I live in LA. It was scary times, so I was happy to be employed.

I love that you’re realistic about how this is work.

Girl, I would have read off the ingredients of Lay’s chips every day for my job. I needed that bag. But of course, it’s an amazing opportunity. And I do love it. I also thought it was really fire. I hope Bel-Air becomes historic and kids be like, “I grew up on Bel-Air!” Like, how cool would that be?

“I try to be compassionate because I wanted to know all the tea about the girls that I was into. Beyoncé, what are y’all doing? Still. Right now! I wanna know.”

This version of Hilary is modernized: She’s a chef-influencer; she’s more independent. What matters the most to you about your portrayal?

Oh, girl, the dark skin. The dark skin meant the most to me. And obviously, no shade to any shades. But [I thought about] the girls who would see me dressed up like that and change their lives, off that one thing. Seeing Raven changed my life. Seeing Brandy changed my life. They were my skin tone. Of course, we can sing. We all can sing. Great! But they looked like me, and that worked. That is the part that I’m the most proud of. I know that’s breaking generational curses to see yourself portrayed that way. It’s powerful.

How are you approaching “Lift Every Voice and Sing” for the Super Bowl?

I want to be so prepared that, by the time I get there, I’m not even thinking. I’m just being. The thing people gravitate towards the most for me — it’s not something that you can make happen. It’s this raw thing that occurs, and God comes and makes that happen. But I can set myself up to where it touches me so much musically that it comes through me. That will be the job.

Do you have the seeds of your second album yet?

I do. I’ve already recorded like 20-something songs. Because I’m in love. Deeply. And it’s great. There’s so much to say. And I’m like, I’ve never been over here before. I’ve never been engaged before. This is a new world. How do I coordinate that? How do I make my version of love palatable to the girls who are in college? Palatable to the girls who are 50, to the aunts? How do I make this explainable? But I feel like they will get it.

“I actually don’t yearn much. I’m not a yearner. I’m more like: I’m that girl. Hello?”

Were you a marriage type before?

Oh yeah, I thought I was gonna get married at 18. Girl, I was super type A. Like, [Sings] “Praise God, I’m saving myself.” Didn’t work out exactly that way. [Laughs]

What about your dynamic with your fiancé excites you? You sounded giddy talking about him on Sherri Shepherd’s show.

We both come from an athletic background, we’re both entertainers. We both push ourselves, and we’re dedicated to the cause. He inspires me with his dedication. I’m like, I ain’t working hard enough. And then, I inspire him. He’s like, She’s a boss. I hope to keep that. I don’t say we know sh*t right now, but hopefully, we’re learning it and we can teach it, like Russ and Ciara. I love them.

What’s one belief about love that you’ve outgrown?

That you won’t have to still heal. It’s so complex. I see why they write about it! I thought I was writing some stuff. Now, I’m about to write some stuff. It’s all-encompassing, and it’s amazing. This is gonna be the hardest job I’ve ever done. I thought, by the time I meet that person, I will have done all the work on myself. I wanted all that out. But he shows me new ways where I’m like, I thought I did the work! I thought I understood myself.

Like, “How dare you.”

Exactly. How dare you put that mirror up? [Laughs] Get away from me. But also, don’t leave ’cause I’ll crash out.

It seems like you’re still figuring out how to share more of yourself without being overly exposed.

What I try to ask myself the most is, “If you weren’t afraid, would you do this?” If I wasn’t afraid, I don’t think I would show anybody anything. So I try to live as close to the unafraid as possible. I’m still gon’ post something. Sometimes, it’s like, OK, you guys still interested? I’ll share. If you’re here for the music, you’re here for the music. You don’t need to see all of that. But you know, with my wedding, I’m like, how much? ’Cause this is a great opportunity. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and people want to see it. Also, it’s profitable! Why did I get on this platform to not be profitable? But then I’m like, Girl, hold on. That’s yo’ life! Like, dang it.

I try to be compassionate, too, because I wanted to know all the tea about the girls that I was into. Beyoncé, what are y’all doing? Still. Right now! I wanna know. What’s it like over there? So I can’t be mad that people want to ask me the same things. I think it’s only right.