I Love Us had the privilege to sit down with pop-R&B artist MarkJoseph to close out our Black Music Month and Pride Month coverage — and the timing couldn’t be more poetic. If there’s one voice that stands at the intersection of both celebrations, it’s his.
MarkJoseph is a queer, first-generation American artist who knows what it means to take the long way in. In an industry that still defaults to the familiar, he’s anything but. Instead of chasing a mold, he’s carving his own lane—one built on vocal precision, undeniable presence, and a deep commitment to showing up as his full self.
Raised in Boston and rooted in the soundscapes of his mother’s Haitian hymns, MarkJoseph’s musical journey is both personal and globally expansive. After graduating from Berklee College of Music in 2018, he packed up and moved to Los Angeles — the kind of leap of faith that only someone with real conviction and real talent can pull off. It paid off. In the years since, he’s toured the world as a supporting vocalist for Nick Jonas and the Jonas Brothers, gracing stages like the GRAMMYs, SNL, The Tonight Show, the American Music Awards, and iconic arenas like Wembley Stadium and Madison Square Garden.
However, let’s be clear: Mark isn’t just singing behind the stars. He is one.
Last year, he released his debut EP They All Fall Down, a vocally rich collection of songs that nodded to the greats — Mariah, Boyz II Men, Beyoncé — while carving out something distinctly his own. He’s headlined venues across Los Angeles, partnered with brands like LUSH, and recently belted the National Anthem at a Clippers game. Currently, he’s back on tour with the Jonas Brothers while putting finishing touches on new solo material. Even as he keeps ascending, MarkJoseph’s roots are never far from his voice.
“Honestly, it’s shaped everything,” he tells I Love Us when asked how his identity informs his artistry. “Growing up Haitian-American, some of my earliest memories are of my mom singing Haitian gospel around the house. She passed away a few years ago, but her voice still lives in everything I do.”
MarkJoseph made it clear early on: his identity isn’t an accessory to his artistry — it’s the root.
“My identity has never been separate from my music — it’s the foundation,” he shared. “Working in pop has meant navigating an industry that doesn’t always know what to do with someone like me. But instead of trying to fit into boxes, I’m learning to build my own space. My artistry isn’t about shrinking or code-switching — it’s about honoring the legacy I come from and making room for more of us in spaces we’ve historically been left out of. My voice is mine, but it’s also part of a bigger lineage — and I carry that with pride.”
That pride threads through everything he does — not as a branding strategy, but as a quiet declaration. His work, his presence, and his purpose are all informed by the choice to be fully visible in a world that often demands invisibility.
When reflecting on the leap from homemade YouTube covers to massive global stages, he keeps it real:
“Sometimes I still feel like I’m watching it happen to someone else,” he admitted. “One minute you’re making YouTube covers in your living room, the next you’re at Wembley Stadium or the Grammys, performing for thousands of people.”
Yet, even amid the chaos and choreography of pop stardom, he hasn’t lost his center.
“What grounds me is that I still love singing in my living room,” he said. “That joy hasn’t gone anywhere.”
It’s that same joy — steady, honest, unfiltered — that echoes in his solo work. A heartfelt fusion of nostalgic R&B and present-tense pop, delivered with the kind of confidence that only comes from knowing exactly who you are.
As his platform grows, so does his commitment to making space — not just for himself, but for other queer Black artists navigating similar terrain.
“We’re at an interesting crossroads,” he noted when asked about the current state of pop. “On one hand, there’s more visibility than ever — artists like Lil Nas X and Doechii and even shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race have cracked open doors that used to be deadbolted shut. That visibility matters.”
He’s careful to distinguish between surface-level exposure and deep-rooted change.
“Visibility isn’t the same as infrastructure or investment,” he said plainly. “Queer Black artists are still often expected to be one thing — loud, campy, sexualized, or whatever — when in reality, we’re everything. We’re soft. We’re soulful. We’re spiritual. We’re pop stars and protestors and poets. And I want to see the industry reflect that full spectrum — not just during Pride Month or Black Music Month, not just when it’s trending, but in the long-term support, funding, and creative freedom we’re given.”
He didn’t stop there.
“I see growth. I see fire. I also see how fragile that space still is, and I’m here to help make it solid.”
That’s the kind of statement that stays with you — not because it’s bold, but because it’s true. His presence alone is proof that evolution is possible.
For the queer kid harmonizing in their bedroom, unsure if there’s a future in this. For the first-gen artist caught between pressure and purpose. For the voices too big to just play in the background. He’s clearing the path.
At the heart of it all is the woman who taught him what resilience sounds like.
“She raised three children on her own as a Haitian woman in America, without English as her first language,” he said of his mother. “She is like Superwoman to me, whether she’s here or not. Her work ethic and will to win is my inspiration. Everything I do is for her.”
As he gears up for his next chapter — with new music on the way and an even clearer sense of mission — one thing is certain: the future he’s creating isn’t just for him. It’s for all of us. Black Music Month and Pride Month may be coming to a close, but the future MarkJoseph is building is wide open.
Leave a Reply