"I see everything as a piece of art, and I am art."
A multi-instrumentalist, a band leader, a classically trained composer, a vocalist, DJ and producer, Emma-Jean Thackray is one of the most diverse artists to have emerged from the UK in recent years. She announced her talents with a self-released EP championed by the likes of Theo Parrish and Mr Scruff; her debut album Yellow then helped the UK jazz scene turn supernova. Now her follow-up, Weirdo, released earlier this year, has seen her develop a bigger, more confident sound by turning the ray of focus inward, addressing themes such as grief, isolation, hope and rebirth. Uskees chatted to her about Weirdo, her journey and her Five Good Things.
You really control the narrative in your music: writing, playing, recording and mixing everything yourself, as well as self-releasing your own EPs, self-directing your own videos, DJing, producing… How did you become so self-seeding?
I think it’s due to a number of things. I want to make exactly what’s in my head, and that becomes harder, cloudier, when other people are involved. Other people have their own cool ideas, but only I have my ideas, and I want to see them become reality. It’s like an itch. Also, I’ve had to do things on my own in the past because I’ve not had the money to do otherwise. I grew up poor and remained poor until a few years ago when things started to become easier. I’ve had to fight for everything to make it happen and take it on my own shoulders.
Your latest album Weirdo was written and recorded over a long period of time, just you at home, right? How has it evolved from a solo endeavour into a collaborative project, and how has it felt turning those songs over to your band?
I made it all on my own from writing to performing to recording and mixing. It was an awful time for me but also blissful in one way, in that I didn’t have to think about anyone else or compromise what I wanted to do. Now that the record is made - I’ve said what I wanted to say in the way I wanted to say it - I can relax a little on how the music exists. When I take stuff to my band there’s always space for them to express themselves and inject their own personalities into it. Whether that’s something small like a flourish or a larger space where we’re improvising together, the music is now a vehicle for us to drive into new territory. Every single show is different from the last. It’s a joy to feel that trust with the guys on stage and make it anew with them every show.
Since Weirdo came out, I guess you’ve been reintegrating with the world as well as your songs: moving from the isolation of the creative process to the maelstrom of the launch: doing publicity, playing live. How has that been? Any highlights or notable experiences so far?
It’s been difficult and amazing. Difficult in the sense that I have to walk around differently now; I have to be more sensitive to myself. I’m much more fragile than I used to be and I have to take care of myself more. I was always fragile, but I’d push on and not take care of myself and end up burning out. I can’t do that now - my capacity is smaller. But I also feel a greater affinity for performing than ever. It’s like before I thought, “I should be on this stage”; I knew I was meant for this, but now I know that life is not guaranteed, and every time I stand on stage I hold so much gratitude. I think a highlight was doing an intimate solo show in Nottingham a couple of days after the record was out, the crowd singing along to every word. After just a couple of days! I really felt the love.
To touch on the introspection that pervades the album, it was born from a period of depression and bereavement, much of which has been written about already. Now that we’re a couple of months on from the release, what has come out of the album for you? Where has Weirdo taken you?
In some ways making the record took me away from the darkness. Making music is my purpose and I felt like I had something to keep going for. In some ways now that it’s finished and out in the world, I feel like I did before making Weirdo. It’s like, “What do I do now?” Seeing the album resonate with people really helps, though, because I realise how important the job I do is. It’s not just about me making what I want to make, what I need to make, it’s about the people that experience the music. We have to hold a mirror up for others to see their own lives reflected, and it’s such a privilege to be able to do that. If this album helps people, make them feel less alone, what more could I ask for?
You released Weirdo through Gilles Peterson’s Brownswood Recordings. How did this connection come about? What’s it been like working with them; does the label’s style nourish your own?
I’ve known Gilles and the Brownswood family for a long time. We had worked together informally lots of times before and I’ve always trusted them as people. I was fine releasing on my own label previously, but with how sensitive this record is, how vulnerable I’ve had to be to make it and put it out there, it feels good to be around people that care about me as a person. And musically they just want me to be myself. I said, ‘If we’re doing this, you have let me do my thing.’ And they said ‘Well, duh, of course!’ It’s feeling good.
What about your creative process? You never really turn off from being an artist, do you? Is it fair to say that you’re still working on a project even if you’re not actually sitting down to play or write? How does being a musician interweave throughout your daily life?
I don’t feel like being an artist is interwoven with my life, I feel like it’s my entire life. It’s 24/7 and if I’m listening to something I’m analysing every aspect of it, from the performance to the song to the recording to the way it was mixed. If I’m not listening every bit of my life is still seen through the lens of art. That’s how I process my life. I’m always thinking of ideas, musical and visual, and they might not be a fully-fledged project with a clear direction, but they’re there all the time. It’s how my brain is wired.
So much music, jazz especially, seems to come from improvising and figuring stuff out. Does that chime with you? How do you tend to freestyle or riff? Is there a good example of when you’ve pulled something together on the fly?
When I write my music it’s never freestyled. It’s always very clear in my head and I work to make it a reality. Every note is particularly placed and intentional. The freestyling comes later when it’s opened up to improvisation and we can be looser with the structure or take things in different directions that I lead in the moment. Some people compose by jamming collaboratively and then their work is born from that. That’s cool but it’s not the way I work. I’m much more of a control freak.
There’s a nice quote attributed to the author Antonio Porchia: ‘I know what I have given you, but I do not know what you have received.’ What do you think people take from your music? Is it the same as what you hope they get?
I can’t control what people take from my music, and that’s a lesson I have to relearn every day. Once the music is released, it’s not just mine anymore and everyone else has their own experiences with it and sees in it what they need to see. People can listen to the grooves and think of it as fun without going deeper. They can take the lyrics to heart and see their own grief or otherness in there. They can hate it. They can think of it as their new favourite album. I can’t control any of that; all I can do is make exactly what I want to make. I make it for me anyway; I’m never thinking about anyone else when I’m doing it. Thank you for this short therapy session.
Let’s flip that to you. What do you receive from your life as a musician? How does it enrich your life, and I guess your sense of style?
Being an artist is my entire identity - it’s the very core of me. I see everything as a piece of art, and I am art. That’s the case with my style, too; I would never wear something that I didn’t think was beautiful or interesting, and I’d never wear something that I felt didn’t reflect who I am. What we wear is a way for others to see who we are without speaking to us. It’s the blurb of our story.
What does the next chapter hold for Emma Jean-Thackray?
Touring the album, making new music, resting, trying to relearn how to be myself. I can’t just go flat out like I used to, so I’m relearning my boundaries and limits. Every day is trying to figure that out all over again.
This last part is where we ask you to send some cultural inspiration out into the world, recommending 5 Good Things and the reasons why you chose them.
A restaurant or cafe you like in your city
My favourite is probably Mildred’s. I’m a militant vegan and I think these guys are the best in London for the kind of food I like to eat.
A film everyone should watch
Spice Girls The Movie. I’ve got such a craving for it at the minute, but I can’t find it anywhere. It’s fun, action-packed, and better than everyone gave it credit for.
A book everyone should read
My favourite is Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. A pertinent look at how extreme comfort and escapism can ruin the world.
A musical album or artist who means something to you
Sketches of Spain by Miles Davis and Gil Evans. This album combines my love of jazz with classical music and orchestral arrangement. It made me want to be a jazz musician.
Where you’d send someone if they were visiting your city or hometown for the first time.
To the Lewisham Premier Inn, because they’re not staying at my house.
5 Good Things - Emma-Jean Thackray - London, UK
"I see everything as a piece of art, and I am art."
A multi-instrumentalist, a band leader, a classically trained composer, a vocalist, DJ and producer, Emma-Jean Thackray is one of the most diverse artists to have emerged from the UK in recent years. She announced her talents with a self-released EP championed by the likes of Theo Parrish and Mr Scruff; her debut album Yellow then helped the UK jazz scene turn supernova. Now her follow-up, Weirdo, released earlier this year, has seen her develop a bigger, more confident sound by turning the ray of focus inward, addressing themes such as grief, isolation, hope and rebirth. Uskees chatted to her about Weirdo, her journey and her Five Good Things.
You really control the narrative in your music: writing, playing, recording and mixing everything yourself, as well as self-releasing your own EPs, self-directing your own videos, DJing, producing… How did you become so self-seeding?
I think it’s due to a number of things. I want to make exactly what’s in my head, and that becomes harder, cloudier, when other people are involved. Other people have their own cool ideas, but only I have my ideas, and I want to see them become reality. It’s like an itch. Also, I’ve had to do things on my own in the past because I’ve not had the money to do otherwise. I grew up poor and remained poor until a few years ago when things started to become easier. I’ve had to fight for everything to make it happen and take it on my own shoulders.
Your latest album Weirdo was written and recorded over a long period of time, just you at home, right? How has it evolved from a solo endeavour into a collaborative project, and how has it felt turning those songs over to your band?
I made it all on my own from writing to performing to recording and mixing. It was an awful time for me but also blissful in one way, in that I didn’t have to think about anyone else or compromise what I wanted to do. Now that the record is made - I’ve said what I wanted to say in the way I wanted to say it - I can relax a little on how the music exists. When I take stuff to my band there’s always space for them to express themselves and inject their own personalities into it. Whether that’s something small like a flourish or a larger space where we’re improvising together, the music is now a vehicle for us to drive into new territory. Every single show is different from the last. It’s a joy to feel that trust with the guys on stage and make it anew with them every show.
Since Weirdo came out, I guess you’ve been reintegrating with the world as well as your songs: moving from the isolation of the creative process to the maelstrom of the launch: doing publicity, playing live. How has that been? Any highlights or notable experiences so far?
It’s been difficult and amazing. Difficult in the sense that I have to walk around differently now; I have to be more sensitive to myself. I’m much more fragile than I used to be and I have to take care of myself more. I was always fragile, but I’d push on and not take care of myself and end up burning out. I can’t do that now - my capacity is smaller. But I also feel a greater affinity for performing than ever. It’s like before I thought, “I should be on this stage”; I knew I was meant for this, but now I know that life is not guaranteed, and every time I stand on stage I hold so much gratitude. I think a highlight was doing an intimate solo show in Nottingham a couple of days after the record was out, the crowd singing along to every word. After just a couple of days! I really felt the love.
To touch on the introspection that pervades the album, it was born from a period of depression and bereavement, much of which has been written about already. Now that we’re a couple of months on from the release, what has come out of the album for you? Where has Weirdo taken you?
In some ways making the record took me away from the darkness. Making music is my purpose and I felt like I had something to keep going for. In some ways now that it’s finished and out in the world, I feel like I did before making Weirdo. It’s like, “What do I do now?” Seeing the album resonate with people really helps, though, because I realise how important the job I do is. It’s not just about me making what I want to make, what I need to make, it’s about the people that experience the music. We have to hold a mirror up for others to see their own lives reflected, and it’s such a privilege to be able to do that. If this album helps people, make them feel less alone, what more could I ask for?
You released Weirdo through Gilles Peterson’s Brownswood Recordings. How did this connection come about? What’s it been like working with them; does the label’s style nourish your own?
I’ve known Gilles and the Brownswood family for a long time. We had worked together informally lots of times before and I’ve always trusted them as people. I was fine releasing on my own label previously, but with how sensitive this record is, how vulnerable I’ve had to be to make it and put it out there, it feels good to be around people that care about me as a person. And musically they just want me to be myself. I said, ‘If we’re doing this, you have let me do my thing.’ And they said ‘Well, duh, of course!’ It’s feeling good.
What about your creative process? You never really turn off from being an artist, do you? Is it fair to say that you’re still working on a project even if you’re not actually sitting down to play or write? How does being a musician interweave throughout your daily life?
I don’t feel like being an artist is interwoven with my life, I feel like it’s my entire life. It’s 24/7 and if I’m listening to something I’m analysing every aspect of it, from the performance to the song to the recording to the way it was mixed. If I’m not listening every bit of my life is still seen through the lens of art. That’s how I process my life. I’m always thinking of ideas, musical and visual, and they might not be a fully-fledged project with a clear direction, but they’re there all the time. It’s how my brain is wired.
So much music, jazz especially, seems to come from improvising and figuring stuff out. Does that chime with you? How do you tend to freestyle or riff? Is there a good example of when you’ve pulled something together on the fly?
When I write my music it’s never freestyled. It’s always very clear in my head and I work to make it a reality. Every note is particularly placed and intentional. The freestyling comes later when it’s opened up to improvisation and we can be looser with the structure or take things in different directions that I lead in the moment. Some people compose by jamming collaboratively and then their work is born from that. That’s cool but it’s not the way I work. I’m much more of a control freak.
There’s a nice quote attributed to the author Antonio Porchia: ‘I know what I have given you, but I do not know what you have received.’ What do you think people take from your music? Is it the same as what you hope they get?
I can’t control what people take from my music, and that’s a lesson I have to relearn every day. Once the music is released, it’s not just mine anymore and everyone else has their own experiences with it and sees in it what they need to see. People can listen to the grooves and think of it as fun without going deeper. They can take the lyrics to heart and see their own grief or otherness in there. They can hate it. They can think of it as their new favourite album. I can’t control any of that; all I can do is make exactly what I want to make. I make it for me anyway; I’m never thinking about anyone else when I’m doing it. Thank you for this short therapy session.
Let’s flip that to you. What do you receive from your life as a musician? How does it enrich your life, and I guess your sense of style?
Being an artist is my entire identity - it’s the very core of me. I see everything as a piece of art, and I am art. That’s the case with my style, too; I would never wear something that I didn’t think was beautiful or interesting, and I’d never wear something that I felt didn’t reflect who I am. What we wear is a way for others to see who we are without speaking to us. It’s the blurb of our story.
What does the next chapter hold for Emma Jean-Thackray?
Touring the album, making new music, resting, trying to relearn how to be myself. I can’t just go flat out like I used to, so I’m relearning my boundaries and limits. Every day is trying to figure that out all over again.
This last part is where we ask you to send some cultural inspiration out into the world, recommending 5 Good Things and the reasons why you chose them.
A restaurant or cafe you like in your city
My favourite is probably Mildred’s. I’m a militant vegan and I think these guys are the best in London for the kind of food I like to eat.
A film everyone should watch
Spice Girls The Movie. I’ve got such a craving for it at the minute, but I can’t find it anywhere. It’s fun, action-packed, and better than everyone gave it credit for.
A book everyone should read
My favourite is Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. A pertinent look at how extreme comfort and escapism can ruin the world.
A musical album or artist who means something to you
Sketches of Spain by Miles Davis and Gil Evans. This album combines my love of jazz with classical music and orchestral arrangement. It made me want to be a jazz musician.
Where you’d send someone if they were visiting your city or hometown for the first time.
To the Lewisham Premier Inn, because they’re not staying at my house.