Summary of “Cover Story: Janelle Monae on Prince, New LP, Her Sexuality”

As she sings on a song from her new album, Dirty Computer, “Let the rumors be true.” Janelle Monáe is not, she finally admits, the immaculate android, the “Alien from outer space/The cybergirl without a face” she’s claimed to be over a decade’s worth of albums, videos, concerts and even interviews – she is, instead, a flawed, messy, flesh-and-blood 32-year-old human being.
“I created her, so I got to make her be whatever I wanted her to be. I didn’t have to talk about the Janelle Monáe who was in therapy. It’s Cindi Mayweather. She is who I aspire to be.”
Janelle Monáe Robinson was born here on December 1st, 1985, to a mom who worked as a janitor and a dad who was in the middle of a 21-year battle with crack addiction.
Monáe soon passed a bigger audition, for the American Musical and Dramatic Academy, and headed to New York.
Simultaneously, Chuck Lightning, seemingly the more extroverted half of two-man funk act Deep Cotton, who make their own music as well as work with Monáe, grabs a bowl of quinoa from the kitchen as Monáe doles out decisions on which version of the “Pynk” video will be released.
Monáe recorded most of Dirty Computer here, in a small studio with Havana-inspired decor.
Monáe’s America is the one on the fringes; it accepts the outsiders and the computers with viruses, like the ones she thought she had. She understands the significance of now making her personal life a bigger, louder part of her art.
Still, Dirty Computer is meant to be a celebration, and if she loses a few people along the way, Monáe seems OK with that risk.

The orginal article.