
Grace Jones: Music and art confessions of the revolutionary iconoclast
In the summer of 1980, while amid a pivotal moment in her career, Grace Jones declared, “I’m one for change”. At the time, she had temporarily left her New York abode to promote ‘Private Life’, the third single from her third album Warm Leatherette. This moment marked her transition from the disco era to the uncharted territories of new wave and reggae, all under the expert guidance of the Jamaican rhythm section and production duo Sly and Robbie. Jones, a model-turned-musician, became renowned for her vision decisive nature, along with her fusion of music and style.
Many iconic artists have left a lasting mark on today’s pop landscape, like the glamorous innovation of David Bowie and the pioneering work of Madonna. Yet, amid these luminaries, there’s Jones, a monumental figure who wielded considerable influence over pop culture throughout the 1970s and 1980s. Despite her undeniable importance, Jones’ multifaceted talents are often inadequately explored. Across these diverse mediums, she fearlessly redefined stereotypes and pushed the boundaries of what it meant to be a female artist.
Jones made her initial foray into music as an extension of her career as a fashion model. A devoted soul music enthusiast, she fondly regards James Brown as the “ultimate disco artist” and shared an apartment in New York with her brother, who was a club DJ. “He really understood DJ-ing as an art form,” Jones told The Face. “We always had the best records and the best system of anyone around.”
“Basically,” she added, “I got started in music because someone saw a chance of making some money. It was while I was still living in Paris. These people know I was already successful modelling, and there’s this assumption that all Black Americans have great voices. ‘So, c’mon Grace, let’s go cut a record!’” Although many in the business – and outside – regard Jones as an audacious figure, the world in which she found herself was rooted in exactly that.
“Modelling is bitchy,” she stated, “But that’s OK because I can be very bitchy, too. And I can understand bitchiness. The music world is bitchy as well, also… But I try to concentrate more on what I’m doing than on the political games that’re happening. I can’t totally pretend that those numbers don’t exist because I have to work within it, and I like to maintain control in everything I do – though they constantly try and take that away.“
In her early demo recordings, Jones covered John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ and The Three Degrees’ ‘Dirty Ol’ Ma’ – one slow-paced and one fast-paced song. Her singing abilities prompted her to attend singing lessons, although she initially found them undisciplined and even had her contract threatened. She believed that teaching her how to breathe was unnecessary, given that she had mastered it from birth.
Jones found herself signed to Island Records after her music, produced for a small New York independent label connected with the Parisian scene, was distributed by Island. She had minimal involvement in the signing process and admitted to not being familiar with various record companies at the time, as she came from a completely different world.
She was also increasingly being associated with the gay scene, which she clarified had been somewhat exaggerated. According to her, it was not the gay audience that initially embraced her. Jones’ earliest supporters emerged from the elite artistic, fashion, and literary circles of SoHo, New York, which constitute the SoHo art scene.

“I was an art groupie,” she shared, “For a long time. All my boyfriends were artists. I found that scene very interesting, although it was probably more superficial than I realised at the time. A lot of those people really get off on being unhappy – they find that struggling artist image very romantic, which is a bit screwed up, really. I was totally involved in that scene. I think, in fact, that a large part of my attraction for gay guys is that I do serve as some sort of mother figure to them.“
During the 1980s, Jones also ventured into acting, featuring in films like Conan the Destroyer and, most notably, A View to a Kill, where she portrayed a Bond villain with her striking, steely demeanour. Jones gained a reputation for her tough persona, notably striking television presenter Russel Hartley when he made disrespectful comments and turned his back on her. Jones has consistently demonstrated her refusal to be mistreated or seen as inferior to others, a personal philosophy that shines through her work and has served as an inspiration to generations of artists.
“I’m always rebelling,” Jones told The New York Times back in 2015. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop”. Maybe that’s why it’s such a challenge to persuade her to collaborate with others, as was the case with Lady Gaga, who even made a visit to her brother’s home to seek his assistance in convincing her.
Nevertheless, Jones is steadfast, but her determination is well-founded. “I basically said: ‘Bring me something. Don’t just take something from me. If you want me to work with you, then come with an idea,” she explained. “Come with music. Dazzle me.’ People said, ‘Do you know how much money you can make working with her, collaborating with her?’ It’s never been about the money. And the fame, believe me, it’s a double-edged sword.”
In her memoir, Jones also criticises the young pop stars who “play the pioneer without taking the actual risk”. Despite knowing the value of such collaborations, she states that musical art should never be about the money. Jones explains: “I have been so copied by those people who have made fortunes that people assume I am that rich. But I did things for the excitement, the dare, the fact that it was new, not for the money. And too many times I was the first, not the beneficiary.”
She continues: “There’s a lot of that around at the moment. Be like Sasha Fierce. Be like Miley Cyrus. Be like Rihanna. Be like Lady Gaga. Be like Rita Ora and Sia. Be like Madonna. I cannot be like them, except to the extent that they are already being like me.” Collaborating with these superstars, Jones contends, would be a greater advantage to them rather than herself.
This isn’t to suggest that she actively avoids the spotlight, however: Jones maintains an active touring schedule, and her activity is followed by devoted fans. During her Afropunk shows, for example, her hula-hooping performances inundated Instagram, indicating a fresh surge of admiration from fans who were born long after the disco era came to an end.