Ebony Riley knows a thing or two about labels. The Detroit native, formerly known as Riley Montana, modeled for some of the world’s biggest fashion houses, such as Givenchy, Dolce & Gabbana, Bottega Veneta and Tom Ford. Yet her debut album, Beautiful Tragedy, strips away the glitz to reveal her raw, complicated truth.
The cover art shows Riley unclad, perched atop a mound of garments, her gaze fixed directly into the lens. “It’s pretty much me shedding all the versions of myself that I felt I needed to be in order to be accepted, loved, and fit in,” Riley tells Rated R&B, on a late April afternoon, dressed in a yellow hoodie with her burgundy micro braids spilling over her left shoulder. She’s at her Los Angeles home but is still repping her hometown with a 313 pendant. “I had to shed all of those versions for me to really step into my power in this next chapter because those versions weren’t me,” she continues.
Amid the success of her modeling career, the thought of pursuing music lingered. By that time, she felt more confident in herself. “I was always made to think I was ugly or that my skin complexion was a bad thing as far as my physical. Around 2015, I had achieved some success, so it was like, ‘OK, you know it’s not about how you look, so let’s just try.’” She admits her first attempts didn’t land for her. “I met a songwriter and producer here in LA. We tried it out, but I don’t think I was in a vulnerable space yet, so we weren’t really talking about much. They were wanting me to talk about surface-level stuff, which is not their fault because you have to be completely vulnerable when you’re going into this space.”
Riley didn’t force it and continued focusing on modeling over the next few years. “Around 2018, I played a record for one of my mentors at the time, and I was like, ‘You think I should finish this song? Let me know what you think.’ When he saw that I could sing, he was like, ‘Oh yeah, let’s get in.’ It was at this moment that Riley knew music was calling her, and she was ready to answer. Riley’s pivot from the fashion world wasn’t a dismissal. “Modeling is great, but for me, somebody who has many layers to them, it’s hard to show up and just be a Barbie doll for somebody. I want to be my own Barbie doll. I got so many ideas myself,” she says.
After landing a deal with Interscope Records, Riley reintroduced herself as Ebony Riley with her debut EP, Ebony. She told Rated R&B in 2023, “I’m addressing a lot of stuff that I’ve been pushing off for years. It’s kinda liberating to be OK with sharing parts of me that I know so many other people are going through as well but may be scared/ashamed to speak on.”
Three years later, Riley is strutting further into her power with her debut album, Beautiful Tragedy, executive produced by Larrance “Rance” Dopson (1500 or Nothin). Born from a breakup, the project is a stunning collection of diaristic songs that look life in the eye without blinking. “Sick of Me,” the opening track, feels like a self-talk in the mirror when you’re tired of your own B.S. This act of accountability is more than a rant; it’s the catalyst behind letting go of the old to welcome the new — a healing journey to rediscovering self. By the album’s end, the conversation returns inward, but this time it’s from a more realized version of Riley to her younger self.

Is there anything you learned from modeling that you applied to your music career?
It’s so many lessons. I first learned my confidence in modeling. I still have my insecurities, but I have a level of confidence where I know how to walk into a room and turn it on. Then, I learned how to take rejection because not everything is meant for you, and you can’t let it make you question your worth.
You mentioned in another interview that you felt like you lost yourself when modeling, especially with the name change (Riley Montana). How would you describe the process of reclaiming yourself? Do you feel like you’ve found yourself at this point?
I think I have found myself, but I’m still finding pieces. When I was modeling, I did feel like I lost myself, but I was blaming them when it was a me thing. My childhood traumas and insecurities followed me into the space. I would go into a casting and be like, “Oh, my bowlegs.” And then that casting director would be like, “Yeah, she has bowlegs.” And it’s like, “Damn, bitch, why you call it out? Who cares?” I learned how to embrace all of my insecurities; that’s what makes me imperfectly perfect. I love who I am today.
What did that process of reclaiming yourself look like?
It looked like a lot of heartbreak, disappointment, prayer and self-reflection. Prayer works. You pray and ask God to reveal things and help you get through things. He is going to listen. One of my main prayers was, “Help me be in alignment with the person you want me to be and also in alignment with the people you want with me on this journey.” I lost people I didn’t want to lose. I lost a version of myself I wasn’t ready to lose until I was.
The studio was therapeutic because I was going into these spaces with people and having to be completely vulnerable. Some people were strangers, but I felt so exhausted at that time with the shit I was dealing with. When I was in the studio, I was bearing it all. I was sobbing and crying some days. We would be cracking up some, sipping wine on some days. The vibe changed and varied throughout the process. It was healing because I had places and spaces to release, uplift myself and laugh.
How would you describe your mindset when you recorded the Ebony EP versus Beautiful Tragedy?
Ebony was a little different because emotionally, I wasn’t in that space anymore. That EP was inspired by situations from years before, where, granted, it was still parts of me that needed to be healed, but when I actually cut the records, I wasn’t mentally in that space. Some songs I was in that space; some I wasn’t. With Beautiful Tragedy, I was going through it — still going through it — but still in the process of having to remind myself to stay positive, happy and grateful.

What does the album’s cover art represent?
It’s pretty much me shedding all the versions of myself I felt I needed to be to be accepted, loved and to fit in. I had to shed all those versions to really step into my power in this next chapter because they weren’t me. It wasn’t true to who God created me to be. That’s why I felt stagnant at times. Even if I was making progress, I was not fully happy. I had to learn I’m enough, exactly who I am. It’s also me giving y’all my all and not making it about the fashion world. It’s not about the clothes I wear, the hair or the makeup. It’s about telling my story and walking y’all into my healing journey and where I’m headed next.
You open the album with “Sick Of Me,” which is a self-confrontation record. When it comes to having those honest self-talks, do you find it easy to be so open?
I never had a problem with self-accountability. If somebody tells me something about myself, I’ve always been one to be like, “OK, even if it’s not exactly what they said, maybe there’s some truth to it. Let me figure out what that is and why.” With this situation over the last few years, I was stuck in this angry, grieving phase of the relationships that I was having to let go of and the stuff I was dealing with with people. Eventually, it was like, “There’s a pattern here. There’s still some brokenness in you that’s attracting these people and allowing them to think they can play with you like this. Get it together.”
“Healing,” produced by James Fauntleroy, sounds like nothing else on the album. It feels futuristic. What’s the story behind that song?
When I went in with James, I had played him most of the album I had at the time. He never wants to be like nobody else. He was like, “I know exactly what you need,” and started building the record. I was in awe. I just had a situation right before with this guy that was so in alignment with the record. Those two records he did on this project — “Healing” and “Why Pt. 2” — feel like an interlude. It breaks up the sonics on the album where you’re not expecting it. I don’t want people to expect anything from me. I want them to always be like, “Damn, that bitch did it again.” So those two records to me are the ones that break up the vibe, where I’m talking about healing, but I’m also making you want to dance a little bit.

Sonically, how did you approach making the album cohesive?
Sonically, I didn’t put that pressure on myself. This is nothing but God’s work. I just went in with exactly how I felt those days. Whatever emotion I was in, I went with the flow of it. When we got to the end of it, I went through every record, and the ones that really identified my story within myself, that relationship and my friendships, I was like, “This is Beautiful Tragedy.” Honestly, it worked. It is a little chaotic with the different sounds. It’s hard to have an album with so many producers sound like an actual body of work and not just a bunch of songs thrown on. I can’t take credit for that; that’s nothing but God and my producer.
You end the album with “Bloom,” which feels like a deeply personal letter to your younger self. Talk to us about that record.
I think we recorded “Bloom” in 2024. I was super emotional, and it was very hard for me to record. I was blessed to write it with my sister, Antha Panther. She’s from Harlem and flew out to LA. We had a couple of sessions that week, and that was the standout record for me because I was finally loving on my inner child. It felt uplifting and made me feel like, “You got this. Remind yourself that the little girl that been hurting still at this grown age, made it.” I actually forgot about that record. When I lost my dad and my grandma three weeks apart, a year and a half ago, my cousin was like, “What happened to that one song?” And he started humming it. He hadn’t heard it since I played it for him two years prior. I’m like, “How do you even remember that?” It felt like a sign, so I brought it back, rerecorded it and added it to the album. It felt like the final touch.
What message do you want to leave with Beautiful Tragedy?
I want people to feel seen and heard and know it’s OK to work on yourself and hold yourself accountable. It doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you because you are vulnerable. When you’re OK with things that don’t elevate you, that’s when it’s a problem. It’s OK to grow. I’m also showing I’m not perfect. I’m still figuring shit out just like y’all. I had to work my ass off and I’m still working my ass off trying to get to where I want to be.
Listen to Beautiful Tragedy by Ebony Riley here.
Featured Photo Image: Courtesy of Interscope Records

