What wasn’t funny was knowing how I would be punished for my transgression on the hourlong ride home. Something came over me that night, and I decided I wasn’t going to take the hit for something that wasn’t my fault, again. This night, I would not be locked up in Tommy’s Range Rover torture chamber and sent back to prison in Bedford. I decided I was not going to leave with him under any circumstances. I realized I was taking a huge, frightening risk, but because we were in a public place, with a table full of witnesses, I took a gamble, thinking he wouldn’t make a bigger scene and I might be safe.
He sat at the table stewing and staring at me. I perched nervously in my chair, my leg literally quivering under the white linen tablecloth, but still full of conviction. Somehow, I stared back. Not this night. There was no fucking way I was taking that car ride with him in that state. It was a tense standoff, and everyone at the table was freaked out. They were scared for me; they were scared for themselves. Everybody was always scared of Tommy! But I held my position, and finally Tommy walked out alone. Even though he and I both knew there would still be people following me and reporting back to him, this stand was a monumental move on my part. Out of respect for our privacy, the chef and proprietor agreed to let me discreetly exit through the kitchen. Josefin and I went out to a little club (which was an enormous step for me) to shake it off and have a few cocktails, then we went to a hotel to get a decent night’s sleep. It was my first sip of freedom—and how thirsty I was for more.
’Cause it’s my night
No stress, no fights
I’m leaving it all behind …
No tears, no time to cry
Just makin’ the most of life
—It’s Like That
The night Tommy “cancelled” Thanksgiving was the first time I stood up for myself and resisted his orders. He never allowed me to have a voice of my own; exhibiting the slightest bit of agency or independent thought seemed to threaten and emasculate him. I had no control over his control. I was the voice of the label, making all kinds of profits and shares for him, and yet I couldn’t have a voice at the dinner table. But I wouldn’t allow myself to be cancelled.
FANTASY
While Tommy would never relinquish control over my life, at a certain point he did begin to make concessions when it came to the production of the music. He always respected me as a songwriter; he was a music man and knew good lyrics and melody structure. However, not only was I outgrowing some of the producers he had attached to me, so was the music industry. I always resisted their push to make me fit in a neat mainstream “adult contemporary” category. Adult contemporary was what he knew, it was what his guys knew, and I really knew it too. I could write big pop hits like “Hero.” I could write Broadway-style tunes. Whatever the occasion required, I could make it happen. But I wanted to make more of my own music with a more modern sound. They kept trying to smooth me out while I just wanted to get a little more rough. I wanted to add dynamics and broaden my reach. And, of course, there was a racial and cultural dimension that came with integrating hip-hop—it was a Black art form. Unlike jazz (which Tommy appreciated) or gospel, hip-hop was radical, raw, and in your face. It was not designed to make middle-aged white men feel cool. Hip-hop didn’t really need his kind of “hit maker” anymore, and I think it threatened him by endangering his power. And yet he couldn’t deny the evidence. My instincts were making hits. So he stopped fighting me so much on the samples, artists, and producers I wanted to work with.
I knew hip-hop added exciting, young energy to almost any other sound if done correctly. I knew Puff would be the perfect producing partner for the “Fantasy Remix” I was dreaming about. I was so happy with what producer Dave “Jam” Hall and I had done with the single. For the sample, I chose “Genius of Love” by the Tom Tom Club. It was a perfect fun, swinging party song, but I knew it could go to even more interesting places. We kept the Tom Tom Club sample for the remix, even emphasizing and bringing it out further. Puff was pretty enthusiastic about my idea of featuring Ol’ Dirty Bastard from the Wu-Tang Clan—that was the real genius of love.
The suits at the “corporate morgue” weren’t crazy about O.D.B. They actually thought he was certifiably crazy and that I was about to throw my entire fan base into shock. Tommy generally considered rap background noise, and had no idea that O.D.B. was about to bring the noise to “Fantasy.” They didn’t understand how diverse my fans were, nor did they understand the global impact of the Wu-Tang Clan (I mean “Up from the 36 Chambers!”—come on!). Wu-Tang was a movement, a once-in-a-generation type of group, and O.D.B. was such an extra-special member. I truly believed he would bring something incredible to the
