By: Todd “DG” Davis
Rapindustry.com

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Before Calvin Richardson ever wore the crown of “Prince of Soul,” he was already speaking fluent heart out of Monroe, North Carolina—where gospel wasn’t background music, it was the blueprint. That early church echo didn’t just train his voice; it tuned his spirit, the kind of foundation you don’t outgrow, you build on.

From early group days with Undacova and alongside K-Ci & JoJo to stepping into his own lane with Country Boy, Richardson never sounded like he was trying to “break in”—he sounded like he was breaking through, on his own frequency. Every era since has carried that same fingerprint: 2:35 PM clocking in like a personal timestamp on fatherhood, Bobby Womack tributes that felt more like conversations than covers, and a catalog that treats soul music less like a genre and more like a second language.

And that’s the thing—he doesn’t manufacture soul, he recalls it. Like muscle memory with a melody. Whether writing for legends or delivering his own grown-man confessions, Calvin Richardson doesn’t just sing songs… he lets them breathe.

Your music never sounds manufactured — it sounds lived-in. What real-life experiences still find their way into your songs no matter how much time passes?

From my perspective, I’d have to say there are three words that describe my music from start to finish: New, Used, and Authentic. New in the sense that you’ve never heard it before, but it never gets old. Used because it’s relatable to everyday living and life as it relates to being in a relationship. Authentic because it comes from a real and, most importantly, honest place. Once you get it, you’ve got it.

Growing up singing gospel in North Carolina, when did you first realize soul music could heal people as much as entertain them?

I learned early on how powerful soul music was — how it touched the hearts and souls of so many people from different backgrounds at the same time, people who didn’t even know one another.

Before the solo career, there was Undacova with K-Ci & JoJo. What do you remember most about those early days before any of you knew how far the journey would go?

Undacova was post K-Ci and JoJo. I linked with K and Jo in high school, as I was recruited to be a part of their legendary gospel group, which was an incredible experience for me at that time. After that situation ended, they went on to become Jodeci and had major success, which inspired me to form Undacova a few years later.

Bobby Womack’s influence on you feels spiritual almost more than musical. What did he teach you about pain, honesty, and survival through song?

The Bobby Womack connection was absolutely spiritual because when I heard his music and his voice, I heard myself — the honesty in his voice, the way he was able to convey whatever he was feeling was magical to me. I became not just a fan, but a student.

2:35 PM was named after the exact moment your son was born. Why has fatherhood always been such a central part of who you are as a man and artist?

Becoming a father is so important to me because I grew up without one, and I never forgot what it felt like to have that empty space in my life that was never filled. So it became that much more important for me to be there for my children. Very little even comes close to the satisfaction I get from being the best father that I can be.

Your voice carries grit, vulnerability, and Southern soul all at once. Did you ever feel pressure to smooth out your sound to fit industry trends?

Of course I’ve felt the pressure to be different, but never so much that it actually made me want to change. I’m still doing me the only way I know how, and it’s working.

You’ve written for legends like Angie Stone, Charlie Wilson, and Raphael Saadiq. What makes writing for another artist completely different from writing for yourself?

The only thing that makes it different than writing for myself is just hearing another legendary voice singing the song. It’s a feeling hard to put into words.

Your latest single “Radio Rodeo” feels like another chapter in your grown-man soul catalog while still bringing fresh energy. What inspired that record, and what does it represent for where you are creatively right now?

Honestly, “Radio Rodeo” was an experiment for me — a different type of groove describing the culture of the outside-back-in-the-woods Southern Soul shows, the goings-on, the way I experienced it early on, and being a part of its evolution into what it is now.

Soul music today often feels more polished but less personal. What do you think classic R&B understood about human emotion that modern music sometimes forgets?

I don’t know if it’s so much about what artists understood then versus what they know now when it comes to the soul in the music. It’s just a different time, and most of the music today is being delivered and performed by much younger artists whose life circumstances are vastly different, which shapes and molds the sound of the music.

You’ve stayed true to grown-folks R&B through every industry shift. What gave you the confidence to never abandon your lane chasing what was trendy?

I just found that doing me will always win rather than trying to be something that I’m not.

From church choirs to Grammy nominations to reality television, your path has been anything but predictable. What chapter of your journey changed you the most personally?

I think what changed me most was when I linked up with Angie Stone, and although she wasn’t independent, she took me under her wing and educated me on the ins and outs of how to be independent.

When your story is eventually told in full, what do you hope people understand about you beyond the nickname “Prince of Soul”?

When my story is told, the main thing I want conveyed about my career is that, just like most artists, I tried it their way — but I didn’t find success until I did it my way.