Jill Scott, 'Beautifully Human'

IT'S BEEN four years since "Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Sounds Vol. 1" answered its own question by selling 2.3 million copies, elevating the unknown North Philadelphia poet from "who?" to "whoosh!" via a stunning debut and sold-out tours here and abroad. Folks quickly took to Scott's bracing brew of soul, jazz and hip-hop, insightful storytelling and dramatic stage presence, as well as a glorious voice that told everyday stories about romantic aspiration, failure and renewal with extraordinary power and conviction.

Then two years ago, she pretty much disappeared, and folks started thinking any new album might have to be titled "Where Is Jill Scott?"

"Actually, I have heard that a couple of times," Scott says with a laugh from Philadelphia as she prepares to unveil "Beautifully Human: Words and Sounds Vol. 2." The new album is set for release on Aug. 31, and Scott will preview it with a short "buzz tour," including Friday and Saturday shows at the 9:30 club. She'll be working with a quartet of musicians; a full band tour in larger venues will follow in the fall.

So, where was Jill Scott all this time?

In Philadelphia, getting married to longtime beau and multi-song-inspiration Lyzel Williams, fixing up a house, recharging batteries suddenly spent.

"The reason that I've had to wait is I needed to live," Scott says. "I needed to go grocery shopping, and sit on my grandmother's porch, to sleep in my mother's nightgown and get on my grandmother's bed -- things that matter to me.

"I needed to cry a little bit, to reassess my life because it had changed so much."

Indeed, Scott's transformation from little-known performance poet to major figure in the nu-soul movement was both dramatic and quick: Her very first writing credit, the hook on the Roots' 1999 breakthrough hit, "You Got Me," earned Scott a Grammy and a record contract. Within a year, the spotlight was shining on Scott, making it difficult for her to do what she'd always done best -- people watch.

"To me, part of being a poet means being able to sit as an invisible being and watch the world, pay attention," Scott says. "I love to see the changing faces of somebody on a train or bus, thinking about things, and here I am, imagining what they're thinking about, what they're going through. Being a fly on the wall and listening to someone's conversation and hearing what they're hearing, that's a whole other story, a whole other universe that I can dig my teeth into, or dig my pen into. . . .

"I used to get a lot of my inspiration from riding the bus, and I tried that and it was not a good experience," Scott says of her post-album profile. "It wasn't like I could sit and be an observer. I was the person everyone else was observing, and it was strange to me. I missed those things and it hurt me, too, so I took some time and now I have to shift a little bit -- shift quite a bit -- in order to still find my own groove. I've had to find new and interesting ways to do it."

Nothing radical, mind you. For "Beautifully Human," Scott has drafted the production talents of James Poyser, Raphael Saadiq, Andre Harris & Vidal Davis and others for a 15-song set that builds off the joyful opening declaration that Scott's "living my life like it's golden." There are Lyzel-inspired slow jams like ""Whatever, Whenever," "Bedder at Home" and "Nothing," as well as social missives like "Rasool," "Petition" and "Family Reunion."

As before, Scott mostly sings, but she sometimes speaks her lyrics, befitting her mid-'90s origins as a performance poet.

"I actually sang before I began to write," says Scott, whose passion for poetry began in the eighth grade when she was turned on to the works of Nikki Giovanni and Sonia Sanchez. While still in high school, Scott began writing and participating in Philadelphia's active poetry scene, performing in clubs with such established poets as Ursula Rucker and Rich Medina. But while Scott's words were publicly spoken, her voice remained contained, even as she started on a teacher training track at Temple University.

"I like to take things in steps, and singing, to me, has always been naked," Scott explains. "It's not so much about singing something that sounds pretty as singing something that feels honest, and I was very frightened by the thought of that. I thought if I sang how I felt and everybody could hear how I felt that somehow or other that would harm me. So I had some living and some maturing before I could even dream about getting on stage, no matter what size, in front of an audience, no matter what size, and sing my heart, my spirit. That was scary."