But the story is real, and continues to unfold. Destiny’s Child’s new album, “Survivor,” debuted at the top of the charts last week, selling more copies in one week than any other album by a female group of the last decade. This amazing feat hardly produced a ripple in the music industry–such success has become a given for these young women. For the past month the group has been promoted with a daily two-hour band retrospective on MTV, heavy rotation of the “Survivor” video and ads for the first Total Request Live tour, which they will headline. “I just hope people don’t get sick of us,” says 19-year-old Knowles in a husky Texas drawl. “I’m sick of us, and I’m in Destiny’s Child. There’s such a thing as overexposure, but you just have to be selective in what you do. There has to be some mystery so people are excited when they see you.”
The mystery of Destiny’s Child is that it’s nearly impossible to pin down who they are or what they really believe in. The new CD features a paean to “Independent Women,” yet the girls’ everyday actions seem to be controlled by manager Mathew Knowles, a.k.a. Beyonce’s dad. They are, for example, forbidden to drink or cuss. And while they sing about “nasty girls” who should “put some clothes on,” they never seem to be wearing more than a washcloth’s worth of material between them. As a cultural riddle, Destiny’s Child are intriguing. As a marketing phenomenon, they are as cynical as the record biz itself.
These contradictions didn’t stop 7 million people from buying the group’s second album, 1999’s “The Writing’s on the Wall,” or discussing the girls’ every move as if they were reality-show contestants. After all, there’s plenty to dish. The group replaced three members between albums as stealthily as “Bewitched” switched Darrins. Then there’s the Knowles family’s hold on Destiny’s Child: the manager father; his wife, Tina, the group’s hairstylist, and Beyonce’s younger sister Solange, the backup dancer. The band’s only remaining original member, Kelly Rowland, might as well be a family member–she’s lived with the Knowleses since she was 11, she explains, because “we were always rehearsing and doing shows. But I see my mom every day.” It’s a setup that former member Farrah Franklin likened to a cult.
This complicated game of musical chairs has fueled speculation that Destiny’s Child is a mere springboard for Beyonce’s leap to Diana Ross-like solo stardom. She is the one who (with a little help) wrote and produced “Survivor,” struck out on her own to play the lead role in last week’s MTV “hip-hopera” “Carmen,” and is soon to be L’Oreal’s newest hair-flipping spokesmodel. “People want to make me out as a big diva,” says Knowles inside the Beverly Hills hotel suite that’s doubling as today’s makeover studio. Michelle Williams, 20, lounges on a nearby bed while Rowland, also 20, has her hair done in the bathroom. “I heard this story that I supposedly went to Whatta Burger and drove away without paying for my food,” says Knowles. “I eat there all the time, so it’s possible, but I don’t think I should get my food for free. That’s ridiculous! I thought of going there and giving them money. But then it would just be, like, ‘Oh, she’s a diva and she’s crazy’.”
Knowles answers the disses throughout the new album–on the retributional title track, inspired by a critic who compared the band’s ever-changing lineup to the “Survivor” TV series, and on “Happy Face”: “There’s plenty of people who don’t like me, but 10 times more who love me.” She even encouraged Williams and Rowland to sing several lead parts. “Survivor” lacks the street-style bounce that earlier Destiny’s Child producers Kevin (She’kspere) Briggs and Rodney Jerkins brought to the mix, but as with vintage Motown groups, it’s the girls’ voices that carry the CD.
The original Destiny’s Child lineup–Knowles, Rowland, LaTavia Roberson and LeToya Luckett–came together in 1991 under the guidance of Mathew Knowles, a former salesman and marketer. Performing under a variety of names, they lost on “Star Search” in 1992, were signed and dropped by
Elektra and finally were picked up by Columbia in 1996. On their self-titled debut they collaborated with rap’s Master P, Jermaine Dupri andWyclef Jean. Luckett and Roberson left as “The Writing’s on the Wall” exploded in late 1999, claiming Mathew Knowles was only looking out for his daughter’s interests. (The two filed lawsuits, and have since settled out of court.)
Destiny’s Child then hired new members Franklin, who was booted five months later after she allegedly missed a series of shows, and Williams. “Destiny’s Child was always very talented, but I think the thing we were lacking was controversy,” says Beyonce Knowles. “I think in order for your group to be successful your story has to be interesting. Our story was very squeaky clean, so I thank God for the controversy. I’m happy because it helps me sell records.”
But Destiny’s Child attribute the greatest part of their success to a power beyond the almighty hype machine. There is a lot of praying when you are around the group, as if they have a direct line to God while other, less successful acts were put on hold or even disconnected. “I just know that God is on our side, because we conquered things we thought we weren’t never gonna overcome,” says Knowles. “Even when the group became us three, it happened right before [their recent massive hit for the soundtrack to] ‘Charlie’s Angels’.” Williams chimes in, “There’s three of them and three of us.” Beyonce nods: “Funny how it always works that way for us. I guess we’re just blessed.” Amen.
