Jill Scott, the celebrated singer-songwriter, poet, and actress, has returned to the music scene with the release of her sixth studio album, To Whom This May Concern, on February 13, 2026. This marks her first full-length project in over a decade—a gap that left fans both eager and curious about what the R&B icon would deliver after such a long creative pause. The album, released independently through her Blues Babe imprint in partnership with Human Re Sources/The Orchard, is available in digital format, CD, and as a limited-edition gold vinyl LP, making it accessible to both new listeners and long-time collectors alike, according to Billboard and official press releases.
The anticipation for Scott’s return was palpable. Her last album, Woman, debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 back in 2015, and since then, her absence from the studio only heightened the sense of expectancy. Yet, as Scott explained in a candid interview with Billboard, her hiatus was less about creative block and more about life itself. “I did not have a creative block. I just took a creative break. [The creative is] always there. It’s the energy that follows me around the house: in the shower, when I’m cleaning, making a bed. But I needed to take a break from that so that I could live life. I am, you know, a human being. So of course, there’s all kinds of stuff like perimenopause. That’s interesting. I have a teenager now; that’s different than ever before.”
This deeply personal approach infuses To Whom This May Concern with a rare honesty and maturity. The album weaves together soul, hip-hop, jazz, and house influences, a blend that feels both contemporary and classic. The opening track, “Dope Shit,” sets the tone with a manifesto-like declaration, while “Be Great” features Trombone Shorty’s horns driving home a message of self-determination and independence. On “Beautiful People,” the album’s lead single, Scott celebrates collective love but doesn’t shy away from challenging “algorithms and wicked, wicked systems of things,” as noted in a review by Pitchfork. The song somehow manages to balance Valentine’s warmth with a healthy skepticism of modern institutions, sounding neither preachy nor naive.
Collaboration is a cornerstone of the album. Scott brings in a dynamic roster of artists, including Ab-Soul, J.I.D., Tierra Whack, and Too $hort. Each guest adds a unique flavor, whether it’s Tierra Whack’s rapid-fire prideful verses on “Norf Side” or Too $hort’s intentionally provocative perspective on “BPOTY (Biggest Pimp of the Year),” a track that explores the parallels between exploitation in religion, healthcare, and the streets. The record’s production is equally diverse, boasting contributions from Adam Blackstone, Om’Mas Keith, DJ Premier, Camper, Andre Harris, Seige Monstracity, Trombone Shorty, Eric Wortham, DW Wright, and VT Tolan. This array of producers ensures that each track feels fresh, yet the album maintains a cohesive, live-in-the-room energy that bridges generations and genres, as highlighted by Essence and Billboard.
Scott’s songwriting remains as incisive as ever. “Pressha,” a standout track and Top 10 R&B radio hit, delves into the complexities of self-image and societal expectations with the directness that has become her signature. “I wasn’t the aesthetic,” she sings, exposing the pain of being loved in private but hidden in public. The regret belongs to the other, but the wound is hers—a sentiment that resonates with listeners navigating similar emotional landscapes.
Other tracks, like “Offdaback,” pay homage to Scott’s ancestors, reciting names and connecting their sacrifices to her own freedoms. She namechecks legends like Marian Anderson, Nina Simone, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, Tina Turner, and Frankie Beverly, grounding her affirmations in the hard-won victories of those who came before her. The communal spirit is further emphasized in songs such as “The Math,” which blends self-help with practical advice, and “Pay U on Tuesday,” where Scott refuses to enable destructive cycles, whether they concern finances or relationships.
Humor and satire are never far from the surface. “Disclaimer” offers a tongue-in-cheek warning about the consequences of singing along to her songs, while “Don’t Play” is a frank, playful take on intimacy, blending references to Kendrick Lamar’s lyricism with the comfort of homemade yams. The album’s range is striking—it moves seamlessly from spoken-word sketches to spiritual invocations, from profane satire to bedroom confessions, all delivered with Scott’s unmistakable warmth and authority.
Visually, the album is anchored by striking artwork from Chicago artist Marcellous Lovelace. The cover depicts a nude Black woman wearing a collar inscribed with “We fight,” surrounded by affirmations like “We can save ourselves” and “Your rules are nothing.” This imagery mirrors the album’s thematic focus on resilience, self-love, and communal strength, as described in the official press materials.
Scott’s return is not just musical. Over the past decade, she’s remained a visible and influential figure, touring anniversary shows for her groundbreaking debut Who Is Jill Scott? Words and Sounds Vol. 1, collaborating with artists such as Conway, Kehlani, Teyana Taylor, and Alicia Keys, and appearing in television and film, including Abbott Elementary, Why Did I Get Married?, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, and Get On Up. She also celebrated her 53rd birthday in April 2025, a milestone that brings added depth to her reflections on growth, aging, and artistry.
Commercially, Scott’s career remains impressive. She has landed eight albums on the Billboard 200, including four top 10s and two chart-toppers—Woman and The Light of the Sun. Her poetry collection, The Moments, The Minutes, The Hours, even reached the New York Times Best Seller list, underscoring her multifaceted talent and enduring appeal.
Critics have responded enthusiastically to To Whom This May Concern. Reviews praise its blend of affirmation, satire, and communal storytelling, noting how Scott’s voice—both literal and figurative—remains as powerful and relevant as ever. The album’s best moments, as one reviewer put it, are those of a woman who spent a decade collecting things she needed to say and found that nearly all of them still mattered because, as the review concluded, “it’s so Black! Great (★★★★☆).”
In a music landscape that changes at breakneck speed, Jill Scott’s return is a testament to the value of patience, authenticity, and lived experience. To Whom This May Concern isn’t just an album—it’s a letter to the world, a reminder that even after long silences, some voices return stronger, wiser, and more necessary than ever.