My Cousin, My Family, His Legacy: Happy 66th Birthday, Andre

By O’Neal, Entertainment Editor, Lenox & Parker

September 26 would have been my cousin Andre Harrell’s 66th birthday. I’ve celebrated this day with him more times than I can count, and even though he isn’t here to blow out the candles or hear us tell the same old family stories one more time, I couldn’t let the day pass quietly. For so many people, Andre belongs to music history, to the story of Uptown Records and to a generation of artists whose sound helped change Black music and popular culture. I understand that because I witnessed what he built and watched the world come to know his name. But before all of that, before the record deals, the artists and the accolades, Andre was my cousin. He was Dre.

When I think back on Andre, that is where my memories begin. Long before the world knew him as one of the architects of an era, he was a Bronx kid with big dreams and an even bigger ear for what sounded good and what could become something special. If you grew up on the music that came out of the late ’80s and ’90s, you already know some of what Andre gave us, even if you never had the opportunity to meet the man behind it. His fingerprints were everywhere. There was an energy around the music he helped create and cultivate that made young Black people feel stylish, sophisticated, romantic, aspirational and completely comfortable being ourselves.

I had the privilege of watching some of that journey before it became history. Andre started out as an artist himself, rapping alongside Alonzo Brown as Dr. Jeckyll & Mr. Hyde, but somewhere along the way he recognized that his greatest gift might not be standing at the front of the stage. His gift was seeing the whole picture. He understood artists, sound, presentation, culture and possibility. After working with Russell Simmons and learning the business at Def Jam, Andre stepped out in 1986 and created Uptown Records, taking a vision he carried in his head and turning it into something that would help redefine the music industry.

Now, when we look back at the names associated with Uptown, it almost reads like somebody’s dream playlist. Mary J. Blige. Jodeci. Heavy D & the Boyz. Guy. Al B. Sure! These were not simply successful artists. They became part of the soundtrack of people’s lives. Their music played at cookouts, in clubs, at house parties, on first dates and during heartbreaks. For so many Lenox & Parker readers who came of age during that time, those songs probably bring back a person, a place or an entire chapter of life the moment the first few notes come on. Andre understood how powerful that connection could be because he understood that music was never just music. It was culture.

Andre also had an incredible ability to recognize something in people before everybody else caught up. He gave opportunities to young talent early in their careers and had a gift for recognizing ambition, creativity and that little something you cannot always put into words. He knew how to see what was possible before it was polished and packaged for the world. I watched him do that professionally, but what people outside our family may not know is that he could have that same effect on the people closest to him. Andre could make you think bigger about yourself. That is one of the things I miss most.

We lost Andre on May 7, 2020, and there are moments when that date still feels impossible to me. The music industry mourned a giant, and the tributes came from artists, executives and people across the culture whose careers and lives had been touched by him. Every word written about his influence was deserved because Andre’s impact really was that deep. Still, grief looks different when the person everybody is calling a legend is somebody you knew as family. The world was remembering Andre Harrell, the visionary behind Uptown Records. I was mourning my cousin.

This birthday made me want to honor him in a way that felt less formal and more like us. So I got back in the booth. You've probably seen the trend — everyone rapping along to that Takeoff and Quavo track with a little AI help. The team at Lenox & Parker and I jumped in too. No new music, no comeback, nothing to prove. Just having fun and reconnecting with a part of myself Andre would've understood immediately.

That may be the part of this walk down memory lane that means the most to me. Andre believed creativity was supposed to live. It was supposed to move, change, stretch and give you joy. He understood the business of entertainment better than most people ever will, but underneath all of the deals and strategy was somebody who genuinely loved music, loved talent and loved watching people create. I can almost hear him getting a kick out of his cousin getting back on the mic all these years later, not because of what could come from it, but because I enjoyed doing it.

As I celebrate what would have been Andre’s 66th birthday, I know I share him with millions of people who have their own memories attached to his work. Maybe your Andre Harrell memory sounds like Mary J. Blige coming through the speakers for the first time. Maybe it sounds like Jodeci, Heavy D, Guy or Al B. Sure! Maybe Uptown Records represents high school, college, your first apartment, your first real relationship or one of those nights you still laugh about decades later. That is the beautiful thing about the legacy Andre left behind. My memories of him belong to my family, but the music he helped bring into the world belongs to all of us.

Happy Birthday, Dre. This one is for you, cousin. Our family remembers you, the culture remembers you, and I will always remember you. Most of all, I will always be grateful that before the rest of the world knew Andre Harrell as an icon, I simply got to know him as family.

— O’Neal