It was the summer of 1993 and Juliette Jones’ future looked dire. She’d moved to New York to break into the music industry. The Evanston, Illinois, native was broke, sleeping on a friend’s couch and working as an unpaid intern. Yet an impromptu talk with Arista Records’ Jeff House led to a huge opportunity.

She’d initially been rebuffed by House when she asked if she could do some (unpaid) promotion work, a skill she’d learned in Washington, D.C., when she was a protégé of promo great Arlinda Garrett.

“So, finally, I told him, ‘Just give me a record, and if I get it played, pay me,’” recalls Jones, who was named COO at Alamo Records in 2022, which followed a blistering 10-year run at Atlantic, where, as SVP of urban promotion, she oversaw a string of hits by the likes of Bruno Mars, Cardi B, Gucci Mane, Meek Mill and Jill Scott.

The song she was given to prove her bona fides was Usher’s first single, “Call Me a Mack,” off the Poetic Justice soundtrack. After making numerous unsuccessful attempts to get her friend Funkmaster Flex, a rising DJ at Hot 97, to play the 14-year-old R&B crooner’s debut, she broke down.

“I just started crying, like, ‘If you don’t play this record, they won’t pay me and I won’t be able to pay my rent,’” she says. “And Flex was, like, ‘There’s no crying in hip-hop! What are you doing?’ But at some point he took pity on me and played the record.”

After business started flooding in thereafter, Jones launched her own street-team operation. “I had SOLAR Records, which was really cool because I loved Shalamar and Jody Watley as a kid,” she says. “I got some records from RCA. I just started branching out.”

It doesn’t take much to get Jones going, and given the opportunity, this natural-born raconteur, who today runs day-to-day operations at Alamo—home of such platinum hitmakers as Rod Wave and Lil Durk—holds forth in engaging detail.

For one thing, she’s happy to discuss her career highlights: when she broke Outkast in New York, for instance, or how, in 1994, she became Jive Records’ first mid-Atlantic regional promotion director. She wasn’t even a month into that gig when she began guiding a 15-year-old Aaliyah on her first radio-promo run.

But it’s when the discussion turns to politics that Jones is perhaps at her most outspoken. The daughter of civil rights workers is a vehement advocate for racial equality and women’s empowerment. To say the least, Juliette Jones has something to say.

What inspired you to make the move from EVP of promotion at Atlantic to COO at Alamo?

It was an easy decision. I’d left Atlantic six months prior. [Alamo founder/CEO] Todd Moscowitz had hired me to run urban promotion at Warner Music Group back in 2011. I had a working relationship with him during my time at Atlantic because he managed Gucci Mane. Todd knew me well enough to know I was ready for my next chapter. He’s always been a mentor; he’s always been a person who gives great advice.

Like what?

When I was considering transi-tioning from what had been an incredible time at Atlantic, most of the advice I was given by friends and colleagues was, “Why would you leave? You guys are killing it. You should stay!” I called Todd and told him I didn’t know if I was making the right decision. He said, “You’ll know when you’re ready. I know you can do it, and even on days you don’t know you can, I know.”

What’s it been like working with Todd and the team?

It’s been exciting to step into this new role. I’m learning every day. And it’s been great not only working with Todd again but also with [Alamo President] Lee L’Heureux again.

We’re all focused on what’s in front of us and what we need to do to achieve the most effective artist and product launches. We’re about developing artists, but we also have some very big artists. They’re really doing the work musically, so that helps tremendously. What I probably see most clearly in my day-to-day experience at Alamo is that Todd is really a genius at this stuff. He’s built labels several times, and I’ve watched him do it before; Todd, Lee and I worked together to launch MMG [Maybach Music Group] with Rick Ross. Having seen Todd’s vision then, it’s pretty remarkable that he’s still just as committed, which shows in the results.

How has it been different from your time at Atlantic?

Atlantic is a very established label that’s been a wildly successful powerhouse for a long time. There are also senior executives who’ve been there a long time who are experts in their respective fields. They come with a lot of wisdom. Alamo is a younger team driven by the creative. We don’t have a department for everything, so that gives you a chance to pitch in on the entire process, to lean into all aspects of a rollout. There is always a platform for your voice—we’re interested in everyone’s ideas. And the artists have been extraordinary.

Lil Durk and Rod Wave particularly stand out.

I’m originally from a suburb of Chicago, so it’s been a pleasure to work with someone from my hometown like Durk. Even though he’s still a young man, he’s been at it a long time. What’s been surprising is that as successful as Durk has become, he’s still a good person who’s not only evolving musically but as an individual. And Rod Wave is so interesting; before I joined Alamo, I did not appreciate the impact he’s had on his fans and the culture because his success has been sort of quiet.

The classic under-the-radar artist who goes platinum when you’re not looking.

And that’s the thing; I jokingly say that Rod’s fans are like old-school fans—they are dedicated to all things Rod Wave. He’s quietly putting up the numbers. Nostalgia is a massive #1, only the third #1 hip-hop album of 2023. I read in a trade publication last week that only two artists have had #1 records in each of the last three years: Taylor Swift and Rod Wave.

That’s insane.

It’s crazy. Rod’s tour last year sold out, and I think what he’s about to do from a touring perspective is going to be an extraordinary accomplishment. And what’s so shocking is that he’s doing this so quietly, as opposed to other artists whose flash and fame is a much bigger piece of their brand. I think that speaks to Rod’s artistry.

Any upcoming releases you’re especially excited about?

We have some exciting new additions through [new-artist and label-services company] Santa Anna. It’s a joint venture, so it’s been cool working with some really young executives. I’m super-excited about DD Osama, Hopout Shawn, Dina Ayada… We have some incredible things coming up.

Let’s talk a bit about your background. You went to the University of Maryland, where you majored in accounting. What were your parents’ reactions when you told them you were jumping into the music industry?

I didn’t really want to be an accountant. I was good at math, and it was expensive for me to attend Maryland because I was an out-of-state student, so I needed a major my mom would be okay with. I was just trying to find my way. I didn’t know anything about the music business until I met Arlinda Garrett. I’d been working at MCI, an old long-distance telephone service, in the evenings while I was at school, and Arlinda was also working there.

Garrett is celebrated as a pioneer of radio promotion. What did she say to convince you that the music industry could be a viable career choice?

Arlinda was looking to get back into the business and asked if I wanted to intern for her. When I asked what I could do, she said, “Hand out stuff at the club, cassettes and merchandise.” Cool, I thought. No problem.

Then, around 1990, Arlinda took me to the BRE [Black Radio Exclusive] Convention. At that time there was a decent number of women of color in power: Sylvia Rhone, Sharon Heyward, Cassandra Mills and Tomica Wright, Eazy-E’s widow, who was running his label, Ruthless Records. When I saw all these beautiful, fly, successful Black people I thought, “Wait a minute. We’re partying, watching live shows, drinking and talking a bunch of shit—and they pay you to do this? I’m in!”

You’ve called your move to New York life-altering. How so?

I was getting unemployment when I got an internship at [legendary NYC radio station] WBLS. I moved to New York, slept on someone’s couch and worked at BLS for no pay. But interning at radio was an important grounding experience for me. You have to remember, I was fresh out of D.C.

How jarring was it going from D.C. to New York?

When I first met Funkmaster Flex, he was deejaying at a party. I introduced myself. I was wearing a silk blouse, slacks and high heels. And Flex goes, “Ma, where you from? I don’t believe you know anything about hip-hop.” He was teasing me, like, “You need to get some Tims.” And so, God bless him, he made me over in a New York-friendly, hip-hop way—I ended up wearing baggy jeans, hockey jerseys, a fireman’s jacket, a fitted hat and some boots.

So you eventually secure a position at Jive Records, then land at Atlantic.

What’s funny is that I tried the traditional way of getting a job in the music industry; when I was at Atlantic I used to laugh about the fact that I’d applied to be a receptionist there twice and couldn’t get an interview!

Being named EVP at Atlantic must have been surreal, then.

I took every opportunity to remind the top execs, “You know I couldn’t even get an interview to be the receptionist here.” It was actually a blessing that I didn’t get that job because for women, when you get an assistant, coordinator or receptionist job, people are very comfortable to see you stay in it. Whereas people don’t think men should be assistants forever.

In previous interviews you’ve opened up about struggling with imposter syndrome. What helped you overcome it?

Who says I’ve overcome it? I still have moments. Getting let go by Jive was particularly devastating. To give you some context, Aaliyah was the first artist I worked with closely. She died [at age 22 in a plane crash] in August 2001, 9/11 happened the following month, and I was fired in November of 2001. That was a tough year for me. I was known in the industry as “Juliette From Jive”—more people knew me as that than my actual name.

I don’t actually think being let go had much to do with my job performance. My contract with Jive was ending. That’s just the music business. [Head of RCA/Jive] Barry Weiss offered me another opportunity with the company almost immediately, but he also said, “Whatever you decide, I’m not worried, because there are always jobs for good people and you are really good.” Looking back, I needed to move on to the next phase of my career.

Were you able to learn anything from that difficult period?

I learned not to squander your time grieving. Your job is your job; it should not be your identity. You have to be a whole person and have a life outside of that.

Wise words. Rewinding for a minute, what kind of music did you listen to growing up?

Everything. When I was in sixth grade, I had a New Edition poster on my wall. I also listened to Madonna, Culture Club, Prince, Cyndi Lauper, Michael Jackson. I loved the Jones Girls and Slave. I also listened to Pink Floyd, Foreigner and Robert Plant. There was Chicago house music… There was Shannon. I got grounded more than once for joining those record clubs where you paid a penny and got 10 cassettes.

Whoever ran that Columbia House Record Club was a legit menace.

They’d send you the music, then [if you didn’t know to cancel, they’d] bill you $20 or something crazy and mom would be, like, “I’m going to kill you!” And my father was big into music. He was a divorced, grown man with children who had a poster of Nancy Wilson in his living room. When I became an adult, I asked my father, “Did you know Nancy Wilson?” And he was, like, “No. I just wanted to.”

Ha! Your pops sounds like quite the character.

He really is. My dad was like Dr. Doolittle. He’s the reason for my love of animals. The dog that I have now is definitely a pampered pooch. Growing up we had a rabbit, a raccoon, a half-wolf…

Wait. Hold up… a raccoon? Half-wolf?

My dad had a raccoon named Ricky. We had a monkey and a dog who was half German shepherd and half wolf. We had cats and gerbils. And my father loved to roller-skate. He was definitely a good time.

You mentioned Aaliyah. What was she like behind the lights and cameras?

Aaliyah was a sweetheart. We first met in 1994. Her album Age Ain’t Nothing but a Number had just gone platinum and she’d never done promo. Jive basically told me that if Aaliyah had a bad time with that they’d fire me! So I was terrified because at that point I’d only had my job for a matter of weeks. We both were pretty green. That’s why Aaliyah and I bonded.

Three years later, I’m making plans to meet her at the VIBE party at the Petersen Automotive Museum in L.A. She was very shy, but she wanted to meet Seal, who we knew was going to be there, and asked if I’d introduce her.

“Kiss From a Rose” Seal…

Yes. So I tried telling her that I didn’t actually know Seal, and she’s, like, “But you’re really friendly and I want to meet him.” She’d just appeared in Biggie’s “One More Chance” video. When we were leaving the party, everyone was running out. We’d heard the shots but didn’t know what had happened. It wasn’t until around four in the morning that we found out Biggie had been killed. It was so sad. That was the first time I felt the music was getting dangerous.

Six months after 2Pac. Switching gears, though… You have a reputation for being outspoken about women’s empowerment. What do you see as the biggest issue women face today?

It’s no secret that there’s a war on women in America. What’s gone on with the Supreme Court and reproductive rights… We are in a very difficult time. It’s interesting because when COVID hit and we were all in quarantine, many of us who had office jobs were working from home and had an opportunity to watch the news. It struck me that there were people losing everything because their jobs no longer existed. It’s easy to perpetuate in these scary times the idea that there’s not enough for everybody. That’s what sets the table for people to discriminate against any group, women included. If we would only stay in our place, men would have these good jobs.

And I imagine there have been moments working in the music industry where you personally experienced misogyny.

I remember asking my two male bosses for a raise because I was doing all the work and struggling to survive in New York City. And one of them said to me, “You’re a cute girl; you should have some dude paying your bills. That’s your fault.” I didn’t even know what to say to that. I was disgusted. What I did do was tell the boss above them that if I didn’t get my money I was going to leave. And that gentlemen got me the money I asked for.

Back then promotion was a man’s game. The urban space, at least, feels more integrated in terms of gender today than it’s ever been. But there’s definitely work to be done as you get higher up in the industry.

What can you tell me about your involvement in the Women for Women organization?

I’ve been making contributions to Women for Women for decades. Very early I bought into the idea that if you change the life of women, you change the life of the community. If a mother can make a living and feed her children, it’s more likely those children will become educated, changing the whole trajectory of the family’s future.

You may have missed your calling in politics.

Well, my mother has always been very socially conscious. My parents were members of SNCC [the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee]. My sister found a picture of my dad, who’s in his seventies now, being released from jail with a group of protesters. He joked, “I wasn’t getting released from jail; I was getting them out.”

My father is Black and my mother is half Filipina and half white. They had to go to Washington, D.C., like the Lovings because it was illegal for them to get married in Arkansas. [In 1967 the Supreme Court ruled in favor of Mildred and Richard Loving, striking down the Virginia statute and all state anti-miscegenation laws as unconstitutional, for violating due process and equal protection of the law under the Fourteenth Amendment.]

It’s nice that we say America is built on the premise of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, but in reality that’s not true for most of us. I grew up very much understanding that.

Do you recall your first experience with racism?

Yes. When my parents divorced and we moved to Evanston. I was an 11-year-old spending the night at a white friend’s house. People usually think I’m Hispanic or something, so my friend’s mom found out that this kid who was calling her house every day was a Black boy. She lost it; she kept saying, “I don’t want any n------ calling my house!” Her mom is ranting and raving and I come downstairs with my belongings and ask her to call my mom to tell her I wanted to go home.

Wow.

It wasn’t nice. My friend’s mom asked why I wanted to go home and I said, “Because my dad is a n-----.” You could have knocked her over with a feather. Needless to say, I told my mom. Having those experiences and having parents who were very aware of racism and were open about it speaks to my interest in civil rights and women’s rights.

OK, from the serious to something lighter: a hobby you’ve picked up.

I had an executive coach at Atlantic I continued working with after I went to Alamo. She’s been incredibly meaningful and helpful in my life. In 2020, during quarantine, she invited me to go sailing with her and her husband on the Fourth of July. My best friend was visiting, so we drove out to Long Island and got on her sailboat and spent the day swimming. Her husband made a wonderful meal on the boat and we watched the fireworks shows.

You were hooked.

That’s all it took. You can imagine, in the middle of quarantine, what a beautiful experience that was and such a respite from what we were all dealing with. All last summer I kept telling my friends I wanted sailing lessons, so this year I finally did it. And it’s been amazing. It’s a really peaceful way to spend your time. It’s good for the spirit and it’s good for you physically. I love sailing even more now because I have an understanding of how it actually works.

What do you want to say to the younger folks who want to follow in your footsteps?

I think experience and the wisdom that comes from that is underrated among the younger generation. I get that younger people coming in are under a lot of pressure. They’re anxious. They want to get on all the industry lists and receive all the accolades. I partly blame social media because when I started, it wasn’t easy to see who was on those lists. The barrier to entry to be on them was really high. You had to be Puffy or the president of a label. Now the industry is so accessible to everyone that they’re on the job for 30 days and want to get a promotion and be named to a list.

What’s really important for young people to understand is that your life is about running your own race. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. Just run your own race.