[Friday Feature] Jazmine Mary: Interview + New Album ‘Dog’

KATIE BROWN - 9 JUN 2023

PHOTO: JIM TANNOCK

Hope is Emily Dickinson’s ‘thing with feathers’, and it’s notoriously difficult to pin down: it’s always hovering, seemingly just out of reach, and that’s because hope isn’t an outcome - a ‘thing’ to be found and claimed - it’s an active process, a journey. And it’s a journey that Australian-born, Aotearoa-based folk artist Jazmine Mary is on in their sophomore album, Dog, released last Friday, on which they choose to seek out moments of joy in the midst of life’s prickliness.

(Is it also an album about dogs? It is not. Unless you find one in it.)

Predominantly self-produced and mixed, Dog features musicians such as Dave Khan, Peter Ruddell (who was also involved in production and mixing), Courtney Rodgers, Elizabeth Stokes and JY Lee, and follows on from 2021’s The Licking of a Tangerine, the successful debut album that saw Mary, the 2022 winner of the Auckland Live Best Independent Debut, firmly established within the Aotearoa music scene and beyond. Mary is also involved in many other different pursuits across music, the arts and activism (including new band Pony Baby).

Underpinned by a sense of wistfulness and vulnerability, Dog is at one instant haunting and hypnotic, and the next quietly witty with Mary’s brand of irreverent tongue-in-cheek humour. It’s charming, and in the sense that as the listener you’re drawn, spellbound, into Mary’s world as they spin their tales of love and loss and hope and disillusionment, mesmerised by the hum of that metaphorical spinning wheel.

Hope and pain or disillusionment have a curious relationship. The other day, I stumbled across this gem of a scene from BBC’s Doctor Who series, in which the Doctor and Amy transport Vincent Van Gogh to a Paris art gallery in the year 2010 (as you do). They meet with character Dr. Henry Black, (played by the incomparable Bill Nighy), who, in speaking of Van Gogh’s work, says, “He transformed the pain of his life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray but to use your passion and your pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world… no-one had ever done it before.”

There’s a similar creative spirit to Mary’s songwriting.

Rife with subtleties and ambiguous meanings, the songs throughout Dog carry at the same time an intrinsic vulnerability, and this vulnerability is compelling in the manner of Van Gogh’s painting, where he worked with - or despite - his pain and suffering to create joy and beauty. These are both creators who explore the meaning of hope in the midst of struggle. In “July” Mary sings, “Everyone’s a worry these days” chased by “It’s hard but I think it’s good,” and to me, this sums up this idea perfectly. There’s a space for both despair and joy, or perhaps more specifically, for joy despite despair.

Dog showcases both Mary’s vocal adeptness and the storyteller behind this agility. At one moment Mary’s voice is lilting and soft, and the next it’s strident and growling, and coupled with this is a trick of changing their vocal inflection to imbue the same repeated lyrics with different meanings, such as in “You’re Never Alone If You’ve Got Music,” which is almost like a melancholy rendition of an upbeat tap-dance number from a musical, slowed down and twisted into something more sombre, subtle and tongue-in-cheek. This trick is clever, and it’s unnerving in some ways: like being caught by surprise when the storyteller is suddenly as convincing being the wolf as they are being Red Riding Hood.

Running throughout the album, this element of unexpectedness is complemented by the shifting instrumentation with its punctuations of trumpet, saxophone and strings. Alongside this, key signature shifts and movements in feel contribute to the sense of traveling through story, a surprise always hidden just around the corner. But despite these constant dynamic shifts, the album is relentlessly gentle, grounded on a foundation of soft percussion, guitar and piano.

Dog is quietly moving. It’s vulnerable and comforting in its vulnerability, and it has a way of taking what is depressing and lifting it at the corners to let in a bit of light and levity. It gets under your skin, and after it ends, you want to just sit still with it for a spell as it seeps down into those world-weary ol’ bones.

“Do you believe in the magic of me?” Mary sings in “Take an Orange,” and how could the answer be anything but a resounding yes?

Buy/stream Dog on Bandcamp and read our interview with Jazmine Mary below.

Find Jazmine Mary on Instagram | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify

Catch Jazmine Mary on tour:

Jazmine Mary - Dog - National Tour Dates

Saturday July the 8th - The Hollywood Cinema - Auckland

Thursday July the 13th - San Fran - Wellington

Saturday July the 15th - Wunderbar - Lyttelton 

Thursday July the 20th - Yours - Dunedin 

Friday July the 28th - The Yard - Raglan 

Saturday July the 29th - Jam Factory - Tauranga 

Tickets on sale from 12th April from Undertheradar.co.nz


KATIE: FIRSTLY, CONGRATULATIONS ON SUCH A GORGEOUS ALBUM - DOG IS REALLY MESMERISING AND THOUGHT-PROVOKING. HOW’S IT FEELING TO SEND ANOTHER BODY OF WORK OFF INTO THE WORLD?

JAZMINE: Thank you, I'm curious about what thoughts it has provoked. As I write this, it has been in the world for 3 days, I feel really proud of the music and the way I have navigated the last 2 years of my life and I do feel certain of that which is quite nice. A greater sense of self love with this release. Over the weekend I was hit by a strange sadness of releasing it, maybe that's a letting go or perhaps feeling the weight of the songs and a particular type of isolation. Kind of felt a little bit like the sadness you might experience on a birthday? But I like it, the music, and I think i'll experience more clarity of what it is to have it in the world over the coming weeks.

HOW DID YOU GET INTO MUSIC AND SONGWRITING IN THE FIRST PLACE? DID YOU PLAY INSTRUMENTS GROWING UP, AND WHAT SORT OF MUSIC WERE YOU LISTENING TO THROUGH YOUR CHILDHOOD AND TEENS?

So many versions of this, I played the flute as a small child, and I remember doing some drum lessons sort of out of spite because all the boys did drums. I was really terrified of singing in front of anyone when I was a teenager, I remember I started learning to play the guitar and sing at around 16 but I would hide and it terrified me to share that in case I was awful. I remember that feeling in my body, god, awful. I grew up listening to my mothers CD's, so like Norah Jones, Casey Chambers, the Dixie Chicks and Jewel are the ones I remember vividly. One of the first times singing in public was this bushfire fundraiser at high school. My first gig was at The Bunyip Pub in Gippsland where I grew up, I was 17 but they would let me go and play my songs, it's funny, it's actually the pub where my parents met. It would be me and then these 60 year old dudes playing covers. And they had those like vending machines you could buy cigarettes from.

THESE DAYS, WHAT’S IMPORTANT TO YOU IN YOUR OWN PURSUIT OF MUSIC?

Connection - just continuing to get closer to myself and the real things around me. Understanding and dare I say... joy. I would really like to think if it stops feeling good to do I will stop in a public way. But I love it, it's all very pathetic the way I feel about it, it's spiritual. It helps me stay. Creating music is kind of fucked up. You start and there is nothing and somehow you end up with this thing that can travel so far. WILD. Closest to sex or falling in love without doing it.

Mostly I just want to continue to work at ignoring all the unhealthy capitalist stuff, finding value in the creating and the sharing. Not needing affirmation that I am good because of how many people hear it or what kind of person. Remembering that this is enough.

DOG IS BRILLIANT AND WRY, AND IT’S A DELICATE BALANCE OF LIGHT AND DARKNESS: TO ME, IT FEELS LIKE A RELENTLESS DECISION TO CHOOSE HOPE DESPITE DESPAIR. IS MAKING MUSIC CATHARTIC FOR YOU IN THIS SENSE?

Creating is a way I can turn darkness into something a little lighter, it is extremely cathartic and also a space to be completely in something. I think I am trying to be hopeful, and this is not just an idea, its a practice, being hopeful in this world isn't easy. I know sometimes people can perceive that hope as naivety, but actually I know the darkness and grief of this place so intimately and I’m trying to be unafraid of it and that's why I choose hope. You're right, it is relentless.

HOW DID WORKING ON DOG COMPARE TO YOUR FIRST ALBUM, THE LICKING OF A TANGERINE? DO YOU FEEL LIKE YOU’VE MOVED INTO A DIFFERENT SPACE AS AN ARTIST?

I don't know how to have perspective on that or if it's that healthy for me to focus too much on myself in that way, people around me or the listener probably have more insight into that. I think me as an artist is me so all changes and learnings I have had you will hear. Hope is certainly more plentiful, somehow... The themes of this record and my life in the last few years have been heavier, maybe that's why. It was the only option or something. From a more practical / tangible perspective I have grown musically and built stronger connections / friendships with my band, and we had the luxury of more time with this record so I think that is there musically.

 

PHOTO: JIM TANNOCK

 

ARE YOU EVER SURPRISED BY THE DIRECTION A SONG TAKES WHILE YOU’RE WRITING IT, OR BY THE SIDE OF YOU THAT YOU FIND YOURSELF MEETING IN IT?

Every single time... sometimes it's like listening to someone else's song and figuring it out. That's one of the things I like about it. I get to surprise myself.

HOW DOES PLAYING LIVE INTERACT WITH YOUR SONGWRITING? IS IT CHALLENGING TO PRESENT THE VULNERABILITY OF YOUR WORK IN A LIVE SETTING?

I don't know how much it interacts, there is always a fear of showing a song for the first time, to an audience or a friend or the band, like saying something out loud for the first time is confronting. As far as the challenge of vulnerability and an audience goes, it can be wonderfully healing when received and dangerously damaging when it's not. It's a lot of trust to place with a room full of potential strangers who might not deserve your trust.

YOU’RE ONE OF THOSE MULTI-FACETED MARVELS WHO JUGGLES MANY DIFFERENT CREATIVE PURSUITS ALONGSIDE CHAMPIONING OTHER ARTISTS AND MUSICIANS. HOW DO YOU HOLD THESE THINGS IN BALANCE? DO YOU FIND THEM ALL FLOWING INTO AND ENERGISING EACH OTHER?

Hmm, the only real struggle I have with juggling is how stupid money is, and how being an artist isn't really possible to do in a way I would see as healthy and balanced. But other than that ugly systematic shit, I just follow what I love to do and what makes me feel good and what I think is important, creatively and otherwise.

WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO SEE MORE OF WITHIN THE MUSIC INDUSTRY HERE, AND WHAT EXCITES YOU ABOUT IT?

Community excites me, collaboration and kindness and willingness to really adore each other in music. I want to see more women and non-binary musicians thriving. I really want to see more women and gender non-conforming people in engineering and production spaces because they will benefit hugely from the magic of that. And brass, I want more brass.

WHO ARE YOUR CURRENT FAVOURITE LOCAL ACTS?

Womb - they are incredible and just truly make music that is so beautiful, connected and that outruns itself. I also love TE KAAHU, what a star. And Tiny Ruins, their new album is wonderful.



Katie Brown

Founder and Editor of The May Magazine.

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