Really late bloomer.”ĭid he go to church every Sunday? “We were there Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, for church or Bible studies.” I wasn’t going to parties, I wasn’t drinking, I wasn’t smoking, I definitely wasn’t smoking weed, I wasn’t having sex. I was not a part of the social scene in high school. And my mom was very keen on keeping me away from temptation. But at the same time I was torn, because as a kid you want to do things. “My mother was really into her religion, and I was, too, to be honest with you. When I tell him I would have thought he was a sex god from day one, he laughs. My mom was very keen to keep me away from temptation At school he stood out, not because he worked hard (which he did), but because of his African-Mexican heritage, and the fact he was not allowed to go to parties. His parents split up when he was eight, and he lived with his disciplinarian estate agent mother. Miguel Jontel Pimentel, who is 30 next week, was born in Los Angeles to an African American mother and a Mexican father. “This is carpe diem, seize the day, and this is the all-seeing eye, the higher power.” And now we’re on to his tattoos: a pair of scorpions on his upper body (because he’s a Scorpio), some Aristotle (“Excellence is not an act but a habit”) inscribed like barbed wire across his chest, “Aspire to inspire” down his side, a pair of brass knuckles (representing friendship), a feather as homage to his native American grandfather, copies of famous paintings (Saint Michael defeating Satan, a Salvador Dalí skull), the quote “Amar hasta la muerte” (“which means ‘Love me to death’ or ‘Love till death’, depending on how you interpret it”). The skull is a reminder that we don’t live for ever.” The sombrero? “Well, you know, I’m Latino, so it just felt right.” Now his left hand.
“I always wear this ring on this finger, the skull with a sombrero. We sit at a table, and Miguel gives me a guided tour of his body. Between shots, Miguel returns to the mirror to obsess about a single curl on his forehead. The only other man I’ve met with the same ability to look great in whatever gets thrown at him is Pharrell Williams. One minute he’s wearing a leopard-print, sequinned parka, the next a blinding orange sweater. The day before the gig, I join him at our photoshoot. Next stop is Germany, where he is playing in Hamburg. All is serene, though he was disappointed by the sound tonight. On his dressing table there are bananas, apples, bottles of water. When he’s touring, he can keep the gym work to a minimum. What does he do to keep fit? “Play live!” he says. It’s about longing – longing to belong, to not stand out.Īfter the show, I find Miguel sweating in his changing room. At the heart of the album is another song, again totally different in style, a painful piece of autobiography called What’s Normal Anyway? Miguel sings that he is “too proper for the black kids, too black for the Mexicans, too square to be a hood nigga… too opinionated for the pacifist, too out of touch to be in style, too broke for the rich kids”. Yes, there’s more funked-up filth, but we could also be back in the 1970s, hanging with the best of the west coast American rockers. The album he released this year, Wildheart, is probably his most unlikely. The Guardian rated it as one of the best albums of 2012, and Miguel established himself alongside musicians such as Frank Ocean, Lamar and The Weeknd, who are just as happy to quote Pink Floyd and Deep Purple in their music as the more expected R&B or hip-hop influences. His follow-up, Kaleidoscope Dream, was the one that garnered attention, with its surprising mix of soul and indie pop. Miguel’s first album, All I Want Is You, released five years ago, was conventional R&B, a dull, smooching-by-numbers affair.