For most great vocal ensembles, the magic is all in the blend…that perfect mixing and matching of voices that surpasses merely a sound, working its way into the very body and soul. The Singletons have got the blend, and then some; no questions there. But there's more happening than that. For this eight-member family group, the power is not just in the blend. It's in the blood.

If their latest release, Better Than That, sounds like six women and two men so tight—so righteous and just plain right—that they could've "grown up singing together," you couldn't be more correct. Sisters Camilla, Andrea, and Catrice planted the first seeds of the larger group to come, as the Singleton Sisters. When nieces and nephews Crystal, Carmen, Tia, Ryan and Alfred joined them officially in the year 2000, they kept things simple by settling on "The Singletons," the name carved on the trunk of a very extensive family tree.

All raised in Lansing, Michigan—where they are still based today—in a closely knit family where literally everyone was either vocally or instrumentally gifted, and church was integral to day-to-day life, the Singletons were steeped in an environment of musical diversity built on a solid spiritual foundation. With an age range from mid-20s to late-30s, the Singletons keep each other widely versed in genres that run the gamut from traditional Gospel, cool retro-soul and easy jazz, to modern R&B, urban and hip-hop. And as only a big, happy family could do, they make it all work—seamlessly and distinctively—with a sound that is as familiar and friendly as it is fresh, surprising, and entirely their own.

"We've got what I think you'd call a 'fusion' sound," says Ryan. "I grew up listening to my aunts sing, and that had a huge impact on me. I got a lot of the old-school early on, secular and Gospel: Donnie Hathaway, Stevie Wonder, Rance Allen, the Clark Sisters, the Hawkins Family, Andrae Crouch. And I was raised in the hip-hop generation, so I definitely bring that to the table; and everybody respects and really gets into everybody else's music.

"We resist labels, because every time you put one on us, even if it's partially accurate, it's bound to be leaving something out," he adds. "The only label I think in terms of is 'good,' in the music we listen to, and the music we make. It's good music."