Track 10: That’s What Dreams Are Made Of

I thought about doing a video for this. Something short where I talk about how surreal it feels to finally perform my own music live. But the truth is, writing is my home. Writing lets me sit in the moment and put every ounce of it on the page.

I’ve been on stages my whole life. Choirs, church plays, dancing. Always in the background. Always singing someone else’s music, learning someone else’s choreography, performing someone else’s story. Next week, for the very first time, it’s mine. My words. My songs. My voice hitting the stage. Only ten minutes, but those ten minutes belong to me. It’s my canvas.

So instead of talking into a camera, I decided to give myself a little interview. I pulled together the kind of questions Billboard or 106 & Park (AJ and Free) might have asked me before a show like this. And then I answered them raw with spit as lube. Just me. No filter. No safety net.

⸻

So Kindred, next week is your first time performing your own music live. You’ve been on plenty of stages before, but always in choirs, plays, or as part of someone else’s production. How does it feel to finally step out there with your own songs?

I am nervous as fuck. Ten minutes feels too short to really let the concept breathe, but I’m grateful. My debut album told my story from 2007 to 2023. It pulled from my love of Disney, theater, and the arts, and it bared all of me. Raw. That album was my origin story, and this performance is me standing in it for the first time.

The Gemini sun and Leo moon in me want it polished and perfect. But the artist in me just wants people to feel it. To feel me.

⸻

What was the turning point that made you stop waiting and finally decide to do this?

This moment feels full circle. In 2023, Qamil from Soul Dope Entertainment asked me to sing background for her and her featured artists Cherimondis J and Paisha. I was paired with Monique “Maverick” Mitchell, and those rehearsals were magic. Watching those women grind, rehearse, push through unlocked something in me.

At the same time, my parents were sick. My mom pulled through, but my father’s health kept slipping. And no matter what my parents disagreed on in life, they always agreed about me singing. They loved my voice and wanted that for me. So I made a decision. I couldn’t keep waiting for the perfect conditions. I had to at least try for Preston. The bonus was them experiencing it before something takes them from me.

That’s when I started treating myself like one of my branding clients. You can’t just build the vision, you have to put it out there. When Qamil came back around with the Ohio R&B Music Festival opportunity, I said I need to apply and go for it. And I got it.

⸻

You’ve spoken openly about self-doubt. What are some of your insecurities as an artist, and how do they show up for you?

Whew. The list is long. In high school, I was trained as a bass. It worked for choir, but the industry is a tenor’s world. For years I pushed myself to fit that mold, forcing my range, thinking that was the way I’d get noticed. But it wasn’t me. Eventually, I learned to lean into my tone and my texture, and people connected with that.

Still, the doubts creep in. I wonder if I look the part. Am I too thick? Because I’m married to a man, do I not sell the fantasy? Am I enough to make people invest in something that took me years to believe in myself? Those questions sit heavy.

⸻

How do you push through those insecurities and keep moving toward your dream?

Not to sound too spiritual, but prayer. That’s the biggest thing. I believe anything God has for me will always be ten times greater than anything I could ever imagine. Growing up, my mom loved hearing me and my sister sing “Lead Me, Guide Me” in the back of her Nissan Altima. I put it in Testimony for that reason. Because even now, when things get dark or when they get so bright I don’t know what to do, I pray for God to lead me.

My circle helps too. They hype me up, repost my music, remind me who I am when I forget. Sometimes they see the vision before I do, and that love and validation keep me pushing forward.

⸻

You’ve always mentioned your favorites like Whitney, Luther, Lalah, PJ, and Jazmine. Who inspires you the most as you step into this new era?

Whitney is the goat. Meeting my husband actually unlocked my love for her even more. Her ability to just sing, even when life tried to silence her, reminds me to be raw. Sometimes I’m sharp, sometimes I’m flat, sometimes I miss. But I’d rather you feel me than hear something flawless but soulless.

People sometimes compared me to Luther’s tone, and I see it now. Preston is guarded, but Kindred carries that Luther-like confidence. Lalah and PJ inspire me because they don’t stay in boxes people try to put them in. They experiment, they blend genres, and through it all, you still see them. That’s the kind of boldness I want to live in. And Jazmine? She’s just a force. She reminds me to leave it all on the floor.

⸻

What’s your ultimate goal with your music? What’s the dream beyond this first show?

I want to be him. I want the name, the music, the impact. I want to inspire the little Prestons out there to see themselves in my honesty.

And yes, I want the money and the fame too. I want to give my family and loved ones the kind of life we didn’t have growing up. But more than that, I want to perform. I want to put myself out there. I want to create music that makes people hold on tighter to their dreams.

I want people to look at me, a boy born in DC, raised in Chicago, Ettrick, and all over PG County by a single mom working herself to the bone, and see somebody who weathered storms and still stood on a stage to sing his truth.

⸻

You’ve got some exciting names on your list of dream collabs. Who’s at the top of your list, and who are you actually working with right now for your next project?

When people know my name, I want collabs with Lalah, Ledisi, PJ, Brandy, Jazmine, Rahsaan, Avery Sunshine. More immediate? My boy Mykal Kilgore if we can ever get our schedules to align, Amber Bullock, Darrell Walls, Davon Fleming, Kenyon Dixon, Gene Noble, David Michael Wyatt.

Right now, I’m working with Adam Ness. He’s producing my new music and pushing me past the “let me prove I can do this” stage into the “I am him” stage. We have some things in the works that I cannot wait to share.

⸻

If someone is in the crowd at this first show, what do you want them to feel when they see Kindred Williams perform for the first time?

I want them to feel me. The nerves. The love. The creativity. But most of all, I want them to feel God. I want them to see the artist I’ve been building and fall in love with Kindred the way I’ve been falling in love with myself during this whole process.

And that’s where I leave it. Because this isn’t just about me getting ten minutes on stage. It’s about what happens when you stop waiting for the perfect conditions and step into your own. I always see these people reach their levels of fame and they forget to share the recipe. They just show they arrived and briefly mention the hustle and story behind what it took to get there. Everyone is not being discovered or just waking up with their dream. Some of us are working, and not sharing the recipe. Sure, leave out the secret sauce, but make it so others can do it too. Dreams don’t always show up with red carpets or grand announcements. Sometimes they sneak in as a short set on a Saturday night.

So if you’ve been sitting on your vision, hiding behind fear or doubt, take this as your sign. Dig in it raw. Just you. No condom. No safety net. Just you going hard at your dream and letting your purpose explode for all to see and gravitate to. Sometimes it gets messy, but that’s what makes it feel good in the end. Seeing the fruit of your labor.

🖤