Skip to content
Live newsroom 60 readers online
Tuesday, August 25, 2026 Live Sync: Just now
Demystifying Finance, Technology, and Global Markets for the Next Generation.
BreakingAncient Genes May Help Wildlife Adapt to Survive the Climate Crisis — and a Tiny Rodent May Reveal Why
Share Suggestions AVOID GOOGL Stage 4 (Conv: 3/5 | Size: 10%)

Born into soul royalty, the Womack Sisters inherited music, but earned their success

This is read by an automated voice. Please report any issues or inconsistencies here. See more from the L.A. Times in Google Search. Set us as preferred It was the early ‘90s, and sisters BG, Zeimani and Kucha were at a family reunion on a horse ranch in West Virginia. While gathered around a crackling […]

By deepak · August 17, 2026 · 5 min read

This is read by an automated voice. Please report any issues or inconsistencies here.

See more from the L.A. Times in Google Search. Set us as preferred

It was the early ‘90s, and sisters BG, Zeimani and Kucha were at a family reunion on a horse ranch in West Virginia. While gathered around a crackling campfire, they swayed to the sounds of guitar strings and buttery baritone vocals, ensconced in a halo of warmth. But what made this particular family sing-along remarkable was that one of the lead voices belonged to soul legend Bobby Womack. The three sisters, who were children at the time, were his nieces, who lovingly referred to him as “Uncle Bob.”

Known as the Womack Sisters, BG, Zeimani and Kucha, come from an illustrious musical lineage. In addition to their famous uncle, whose more than 60-year career gave the world songs like “Across 110th Street” and a haunting rendition of “California Dreamin’,” their maternal grandfather is celebrated Chicago singer and songwriter Sam Cooke, who was dubbed “King of Soul.” Cooke was fatally shot by a motel manager in South Central Los Angeles in 1964 under mysterious and contentious circumstances. His death robbed the Womack Sisters of a grandfather, but his musical legacy continues to influence them today.

Though the Womacks come from a line of West Virginian horse breeders, there was nothing Americana about the childhoods of BG, Zeimani and Kucha. They were three of seven home-schooled children, so their parents were their best friends and teachers. As the children grew up, their parents also became their mentors, managers and producers. Providing an education for their brood that no classroom or textbook could offer, Cecil and Linda Womack (née Linda Cooke) traveled the globe with their kids in tow, bouncing between languages and countries, recording albums, playing shows and picking up threads of each city’s culture along the way.

“Our parents wanted to see the world,” BG says with a beaming smile. “It was a beautiful immersive experience coming up on the road with our parents. It was life-changing, the way we moved around with them. We were in all of their interviews, all of their performances, so I felt like we were born into a [musical] group. That’s really what molded our love of music and our work ethic.”

Cecil and Linda performed together as Womack & Womack, best known for their 1988 hit “Teardrops,” and later as Zekkariyas & Zeriiya, respectively. A talented songwriter, Cecil wrote tracks for Patti Labelle, the Four Tops and the O’Jays. He also wrote Teddy Pendergrass’ “Love T.K.O.,” which was famously sampled in Ahmed Lewis’ 1994 nostalgic hip-hop single, “Back in the Day,” among others. In the early 1960s, brothers Cecil and Bobby Womack performed together in the Valentinos, whose biggest hit, “It’s All Over Now,” was covered by the Rolling Stones in 1964.

Cecil, Linda and their seven children connected with the rich sounds of each culture they passed through. Those connections particularly influenced BG, Zeimani and Kucha. From the sonorous morna of Cape Verdean singer Cesária Évora to the Catalan-French rumba, flamenco and salsa of the Gipsy Kings, the sisters’ musical sensibilities were incrementally layered over time like the compressed strata of sedimentary stone, creating a dense audio IQ.

“We’ve definitely been bred up in this music,” BG reflects. “Our family’s been doing this for five generations, all the way back to gospel, but if you ask us what genres we relate to most, it’s a little bit of everything. We have all that culture bottled up inside of us, and it’s a collage of culture that comes out.”

One might assume that three talented artists with “Womack” and “Cooke” attached to their names would have an easy path, but that wasn’t the case for the Womack Sisters. With their debut full-length self-titled album released Friday, the same day as their first Hollywood Bowl appearance supporting Al Green, this moment was not handed to them on a silver platter. Though they had plenty of guidance from family and their connections, not to mention a musical upbringing, their journey was fraught with grief, criticism, rejection, racism and disappointment. Even with the advantages into which they were born, their career was not easily won; it was earned.

Their journey began in 2007, when BG, Zeimani and Kucha moved to Los Angeles to pursue music with minds full of inspiration and melodies. They connected with their uncle Bobby Womack and brother Meech Wells, singing at open mics, working as background vocalists, and arranging and writing for artists like Mya, Earl St. Clair, the Game, B.O.B, Eddie Murphy and Solange Knowles. Their trajectory toward success seemed iron-clad.

By 2013, they were working on their debut album, produced by their manager, who was also their father, Cecil. When he became ill and died shortly thereafter, the sisters’ lives and careers ground to a halt. As they retreated from music into grief, their Uncle Bob stepped in to help them finish what his brother Cecil had started — the Womack Sisters’ first album. But then in 2014, there was more sad news. While the sisters were still in the throes of mourning their father, Bobby Womack also died.

“Besides the fact that they were both hands-on with our career, these are two people who were our besties,” BG recounts.

“People don’t understand that we were extremely close to our parents,” Kucha adds. “Typically, when you’re growing up as a kid, you have other outlets or cool things to do, but for us, everything was related back to them. When our dad passed, we had to figure out how to live again.”

Grief weighed heavily on them, and at the same time, the industry’s relentless criticism disillusioned them. They were not welcomed by industry gatekeepers, whom they declined to name. According to BG, Kucha and Zeimani, they were told by various labels to get rhinoplasties, that they didn’t look like stars, that their skin could be lighter, that soul music looks different now, and whatever it supposedly looks like, apparently it isn’t the Womack Sisters. With no career prospects and their ballasts gone, they were adrift.

Source: Read the original article on www.latimes.com