There are a multitude of reasons why Mica Paris isn’t given the same place in musical history books as Lisa Stansfield. In soul music, as throughout much of history, black artists have been under-appreciated and undervalued.
For every Amy, Lisa and Joss Britain has produced, there were dozens of soul vocalists whose traditions were passed down simply because that’s all they knew: Beverley Knight, Omar, Lynden David Hall and, perhaps most importantly, Mica Paris, whose 1990 album Contribution deserves to be remembered as fondly as Club Classics Vol One or Lisa Stansfield’s “All Around The World”.

Nineteen-ninety was the year of Soul II Soul, Omar, Young Disciples, Monie Love and what could be aptly described as the new vanguard of soul music. However, south of the river in London, a 21-year-old Mica Paris was a once-in-a-generation talent bringing hip-hop, soul and house together in her own way – it’s poetic, then, that her second album would be called Contribution, considering the mark she’s left. She preceded the Erykah Badus and Floetrys, who have been considered the architects of the modern “neo-soul” sound and created a new sonical language with hip-hop, house and soul.
There are reasons albums such as Contribution have fallen by the wayside and it’s not because of a lack of quality. Many of these timeless albums didn’t do as well commercially compared to white artists (Soul II Soul’s Club Classics Vol One was a rare exception). For the most part, labels often found it difficult to sell black soul music to a white British audience, as it was believed that the sound was an inauthentic import from the US. While this assumption fails to recognise the migration of black music in line with the movement of people across the diaspora, recognising this diversity and plurality of voices wasn’t a pressing desire back then.

This is Britain in 1990, lest we forget: black people only represented three per cent of our population according to the 2011 census and 30 years ago that number would have been even smaller. There was an assumption that black artists would only appeal to black audiences even while some, such as Soul II Soul, bled out into the mainstream. However, in independent, DIY and underground spaces you’d find these underserved names regularly celebrated and acknowledged for their legacy in music.
Like many of her time (and even now), Paris’ musical origins began in the family home and gospel choirs. “More Love” begins with an a cappella rendition of the song’s hook, but on it she leans towards her gospel origins: across the album, her voice displays the sensibilities that only come from finding your sound in the church. The melodies and harmonies are drawn out over faster BPMs too, showing how she works dance music into these traditions. The roots in gospel are often seen as a black American story, but in the UK the tradition is also tied heavily to music from West Africa and the Caribbean. Indeed, Paris’ music has its place in the lineage of black music across the Atlantic but it was in her South London home and church that her voice was nurtured.

It was in her South London home and church that Paris’ voice was nurtured
This was also the golden age of rap – not only across the Atlantic, where it had exploded, but in the UK as well – and Contribution capitalised on this influence too. In 1990, Rakim was arguably the greatest rapper of all time – he still is in some eyes – and for him to collaborate with Mica Paris on her album was nothing short of significant, especially in an age when artists had to meet to record together.

Whether or not Paris was already a fan of his music, the experience would’ve likely exposed her to new ways of practising music – in many ways, this was a reimagining of the black transatlantic connection through soul music. With his inclusion on the opening song and lead single, “Contribution”, hip-hop and soul music were intertwined on Paris’ sophomore album. British soul producers were using live instrumentation and leaning towards hip-hop break patterns that had been integral to rap, a trait that came to describe the sound of “neo-soul”, a term coined in the mid-1990s.
In the years since 1990, the black transatlantic soul connection has been vital to creating the soundscape that exists today, one created by a mutual appreciation and respect between both country’s artists. Mica Paris’ output paved the way for artists way beyond the obvious sonic descendents, such as Des’ree, Mark Morrison, Estelle, Nao and Children Of Zeus, and part of the reason these artists and their work live on is because of the way black music in the States draws from the UK and vice versa.

It’s almost disingenuous to suggest that black music in Britain has always stood in the shadow of black American music, especially as American culture has always documented and acknowledged that tradition. There are stories of Soul II Soul’s “Back To Life” being one of the biggest records in New York at the time of its release, proof that thinking about black British music in a vacuum ignores its real impact on everything that came since.
It’s only here in Britain, for the most part, that our black musical history is fragmented and incomplete, seen as separate to or less than. Re-evaluating the artistry and impact of albums such as Mica Paris’ Contribution are vital if we want today’s generation of musicians to contextualise their work and see whose shoulders they stand on.