Ambri Rae: From a Brooklyn Stoop to Global Stage, a Singer Crafting a Legacy Rooted in Softness and Soul

Image Credit: Ambri Rae

Before there was Ambri Rae the artist, there was Ambri, the girl on a Brooklyn stoop, learning how to navigate her block.

The corner store runs, the sound of double dutch ropes hitting the pavement and music spilling from open windows all shaped her rhythm long before she ever touched a mic. 

Brooklyn, at its core, had given her the voice she now belts freely, long before anyone ever cared to listen.

She was 14 the first time she leaned into the soulful voice she now possesses. She wasn’t questioning her talent, but she hadn’t really sung before then. There, on the Apollo Theater stage, she stood unaware of how her life was about to change. She was young, anxious and seconds away from her knees sinking into the stage beneath her. 

“It took jumping on that big stage for me to realize I had a love for the arts,” The singer said. 

Her grandfather was in the crowd that night, proud and screaming for his granddaughter as loud as his lungs allowed him to. 

He passed the next year, but not before seeing her sing. 

“He was so excited, like, that’s my grandbaby. I don’t take that experience for granted.”

Like her loved ones, Brooklyn still holds a special place in her heart, and the borough represents a large part of who she is and her roots.

“Brooklyn bleeds culture. It’s got swag, flavor, everything,” Rae said. “Before gentrified Brooklyn, it was going to the corner store, chilling on a stoop and playing double dutch outside. Everything that makes Brooklyn shaped my creativity.”

Image Credit: Ambri Rae

Rae calls herself  “The softest” to describe her personality and lifestyle.

“I wanted to show that soft can be whatever you make it. You don’t need money to have a bit of softness. You could be soft, whether you’re in the projects or in the penthouse. Softness doesn’t have to cost a dime. Whatever takes the load off you, that’s softness.” The artist explained. 

That definition comes from watching the women around her hold everything together without permission to rest. 

“The women in my family had to step into their masculine energy,” Rae said. “They didn’t give themselves permission to be soft. For me, it’s important to show that soft can be anybody. Whatever lightens your load, that’s what I want to highlight.”

Like many of us, the artist does not take her boundaries lightly. 

“My peace is more important than anything else,” she said. “Anything that compromises it is too expensive. No is a complete sentence.” 

She learned to stop bending toward what everyone else thought would work. 

“Before, I would compromise my creativity based on what somebody else thought I should do,” Rae said. “Now I’m creating what’s authentic to me, what’s real to me. I love where I am, but I needed that younger version of me to get me here.”

She builds her work visually and intentionally. 

“I’m a visualizer. Everything has to go in a PowerPoint,” she explained while laughing. “I want it like this. When I finally see it on set, it feels like success.”

Image Credit: Ambri Rae

That same precision carried into the studio. The artist had the opportunity to work with Grammy-winning songwriters and producers Claude Kelly and Chuck Harmony, a moment that shifted how she saw herself as an artist. 

“That song never came out, but it was the first time I knew what it was like to be in a real studio,” she said. “To see how geniuses like that build a song from scratch, from the beat to the lyrics to the energy, that was incredible.”

She knows a song is finished when it resonates with her soul and internal feelings. 

“When it feels good to my soul, that’s when I know it’s done,”  The singer said. 

One of the tracks that felt most complete to her was Soft Life. 

“It was the last song on the project, and number seven is the number of completion,” Rae emphasized. “Soft Life is affirmations to myself. Even when I feel low, I have to remember what I said. I’m in my abundance era. I attract what I want. As fun as that song is, it’s also a reminder: girl, keep going.”

Still, she’s drawn to the '90s, the era that taught her what storytelling in R&B could feel like. 

“I’m obsessed with the ‘90s. Love Jones is one of my favorite movies. When Darius gives Nina that poem called ‘A Blues for Nina,’ he puts her on a pedestal. I wanted to make A Blues for Him to put a man on that same kind of pedestal.” Rae said. 

The ‘90s gave her the language she still speaks to this day. 

“I always say if Janet and Tupac had a daughter, it would be me.” She eagerly stated.

It’s not a reach. Poetic Justice is her favorite movie, Tupac is her favorite artist. 

“He’s a Gemini like me, and he studied musical theater too,” she said. “When I was little, people called me Penny from Good Times. I look at Janet and Tupac as my creative parents.”

The balance between softness and strength sits at the center of everything she creates. 

 “When we’re too strong, they call us out of our names. When we’re confident, they say we think we’re better,” she explained. “I’m not trying to be better than anyone. I’m just speaking. We’re not always that strong. I’ll cry about it too.”

Faith anchors her when fear shows up in her life. 

“Me, doubt and fear, are in the ring every day, toe to toe. It’s losing, though. [...] Every great thing in your life is on the opposite side of fear. So I’m going to do it fearfully. I can’t stay where I’ve been.” She candidly said.

Image Credit: Ambri Rae

She deliberately fights for her peace and relies on faith to feel grounded. 

“God comes first, and I have to feel anchored. Yoga, reading and uplifting podcasts like Keep It Positive, Sweetie, [...] keep me grounded. I need to be able to go to sleep at night.” Rae shared.

Practicing and relying on grounding skills is what keeps her creativity pure. 

“I have to enjoy my art before you enjoy my art,” she said. “If it goes against my moral compass or steals my peace, I just can’t do it.”

The singer reminisced on a powerful moment where she remembers the first time an audience acknowledged her powerful words and performance. 

“I performed It’s a Man’s World once, and people came up to me like, ‘Wow, that was powerful,’” she shared. “That’s when I realized I could move people. It’s not just about vocals. When you have the right lyrics with the right performance, you’re telling a story that can pull someone out of something. For a moment, you become their escape.”

Her grandmother’s voice also echoes through every move. 

“My grandmother was a disco singer in the 70s. She sang in England but gave up her dream when she had my mom. She’s always like, ‘Ambri, don’t stop, keep going. I wish I did, but you can.’ She made me believe I could really do it.” The artist shared.

Remaining a hopeful dreamer and doing whatever it takes to make her dreams come true is a powerful trait Rae possesses. Despite primarily focusing on chasing her music career dreams right now, the artist has dreams that stretch far beyond music. 

“In five to 10 years, I see myself married with children and an EGOT winner—Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony. I want to keep traveling the world. I want to perform at events like Essence Fest. I want to write books, speak on panels, direct and talk with women of all ages and generations.” Rae excitedly said.

When she spoke about legacy, her voice softened again as she dreamed of her future life. 

“My legacy looks like peace. I see my family healthy and whole. I want to be the kind of person children choose for their school projects. I want to be someone who went after everything she wanted but was kind in the process.” Rae said.

The artist is still making powerful moves and flipping the script, making softness the loudest legacy Brooklyn has ever produced.