S10: E3: Kendra Erika – Behind The Bond
Reinvention sits at the heart of every lasting music career, and Kendra Erika’s story shows how to evolve without losing your edge. She built a reputation on Billboard Dance Club number ones and high-energy club remixes, then pivoted toward a Bond-inspired, jazz-forward sound rooted in the American Songbook. That kind of shift needs more than talent; it needs a plan, timing, and the nerve to challenge industry myths. When Kendra released her version of Self Control between Christmas and New Year’s, a supposed dead zone, she found the path of least resistance and soared to number one. The move wasn’t luck. It was a calculated risk informed by years of working with DJs, understanding how spins translate into chart positions, and learning where attention gathers when others go quiet.
Her origin story tracks back to South Florida and a formative crash course in standards. After a standing ovation for Time to Say Goodbye at an Italian restaurant, she earned a steady gig and had to build a full repertoire fast. That marathon of Sinatra, Doris Day, and Billie Holiday refined her diction and control, a discipline her father nudged by pointing to how Frank enunciated every lyric. That foundation paid dividends once she chased pop influences like Britney, Christina, and Destiny’s Child, then jumped into dance music with remix-heavy collaborators in Los Angeles and Nashville. The club world taught her the mechanics: DJ relationships, spin counts, and the relentless grind of getting into mix shows. She learned that accolades bring credibility and confirmation, but persistence and consistency are the real currency.
Kendra’s creative process blends preparation with openness. She resists dragging binders of preconceived ideas into sessions, choosing to sit with producers, talk, and listen for what the room will give. Some songs arrive fully formed, like Hustler, which landed in a late-night, voice-memo rush over a glass of wine. She believes the best remakes are re-stylizations, not impersonations: honor the original, then add your signature. That’s how Self Control found new life, and it’s why GoldenEye, produced with Myron McKinley, trades bombast for a quiet, seductive power that nods to Peggy Lee’s Fever and the cabaret swing of Chicago. The new album, License to Thrill, stretches that noir palette while leaving room for “Double-O upbeat” tracks that fuse dance energy with Bond drama.
Beyond the studio, her world includes sync placements, live bands reading charts on Vegas stages, and a philanthropic backbone shaped by Rotary service. Golf keeps her centered; a family lineage of players gave her discipline and patience that echo in her career. She’s candid about songs that felt forced, like a pandemic-era “Song of Hope,” and the lesson there is vital: timing matters as much as intent. When the industry moved from gatekeepers to DIY momentum, she leaned into building her own audience, handling socials, and amplifying her work across platforms where visuals, personality, and voice create gravitational pull. It’s a model modern artists can study: choose your lane, but keep an exit ramp ready for the next evolution.
What makes this chapter compelling is the clarity of purpose. Kendra isn’t abandoning dance; she’s expanding her range. The Vegas shows, the Bond-led concept, and the tasteful jazz arrangements are a longer runway for a voice trained on standards and sharpened on club stages. Her dream duet with Andrea Bocelli speaks to that arc: classical roots, pop scale, and cinematic mood. For artists, her playbook reads like a set of field notes: build genuine DJ relationships, respect timing windows others ignore, keep your diction and storytelling sharp, and know when to change rooms without changing who you are. Reinvention, handled with taste and timing, doesn’t erase a past. It makes it portable.
