I honestly feel like I've been preparing for this troubling time for the last 10 years. Maybe my whole life.

When I barely escaped death in back in February 2010, I went on a journey—both musically and spiritually—to explore my views on death, particularly my own.  Although I had rejected my Catholic-turned-Evangelical upbringing many years before, I realized I still had a lot of fear about death and dying...this fear was directly linked to the mythology I heard in childhood about hell and the devil.  Yes, although I no longer believed the fire-and-brimstone Sunday school stories of my youth, the conditioned fear still remained.  It was a fear that clung stealthy to the undersides of everything...I never really acknowledged Death until the day my house burned to the ground and I was forced to face my own mortality.

In the wake of the fire, my life was in shambles and I struggled to put my life back together after losing everything.  I put out my first record "Queen of the Devil's Rodeo" and worked techie day jobs off and on to support myself and my music.  But when I moved to Austin, TX a couple of years later, things took a turn for the worst.  I was jobless, semi-homeless and felt quite hopeless.  My dogs were aging and not doing so well.  It was then I took the time to grieve my past and impending losses; and I started researching and writing songs about death. I needed to address my mortality, study death culture and find a better way to deal with the inevitable loss of self...and others.  When I moved to San Antonio, I learned more about Dias de los Muertos (Days of the Dead; in San Antonio and other places it's a multi-day celebration) and Santa Muerte (Saint Death). I learned that death could be talked about openly and even celebrated for its memorial of—and connection to—those we've loved and lost. I lost my first dear doggie right before the holiday that year...and second one had a fatal heart attack on my move to Seattle.

While I was in Seattle, I wrote more death songs (some about said dead doggies) and I stumbled my way into the death positive movement. I had been following many of its leaders for years, but connecting with them—and performing for them—in person at the Death & The Maiden conference in England in 2017 was the clincher. I believe that death and grief should be healthy topics of conversation for every person in every society. I'm living proof that addressing mortality and making peace with death can help you find a more peaceful, joyful life. It has an amazing ability to put things into perspective.
 

Not quite two years ago, I released my first death-focused music offering, The 'Deathfolk Magic' EP under the band name Bye Bye Banshee. It was recorded/mixed/mastered by Tom Garneau (Prince, Sting), co-produced/mixed by Jeff Crandall (Swallows, J. Briozo) and features some amazing Twin Cities musicians, like my friend bassist and composer Chris Bates and his brother JT Bates who is the weirdest, coolest drummer I slightly know. Aaron Kerr is also amazing on the cello!!!! Jeff Crandall added some eerie hammond and backing vocals and Brett Hansen skillfully plays a bit of lap steel and electric guitar.

I'll be honest--the EP release in late 2018 was a bit of a mess.  The publicity firm I hired really let me down...took my money (of which I had little) and didn't do what they promised to do.  I knew Deathfolk Magic wasn't a commercial release.  It needed a special audience, like the very receptive live audience I had in England the year before. I was specific about the type of audience this was for, but they dropped the ball and sent it to their normal list (some of which they pay) of mainstream bloggers, radio peeps, etc. This publicity firm also insisted that I have an EP release show, which I suspected I would lose money on (and I did).  At any rate, it was the final straw (of many, many, many) that made me completely disgusted with the music "business". Besides a few one-off performances, I've been creating and woodshedding in lots of solitude since then...most recently in Tennessee.

Worldwide people are hurting. Some folks may feel like they are truly facing their own mortality for the first time. Or they've lost a loved one. Are afraid they might lose a loved one. Or feeling especially close to death...and they don't even want to say that word...DEATH. We can't avoid it any longer. People are dying and so many more are doing to die. Probably some of our friends and loved ones.  But we can start to address the fear of death, start having honest and healthy conversations about it, meditate on it. Understand that death, too, is a gift; its brevity makes life worth living.

I didn't write these songs because I thought they'd get radio play. I didn't write these songs because I thought music critics would like it. I wrote the Bye Bye Banshee songs as an antidote. Not against death—as there is no cure for that—but as an antidote against our fear of death and denial of grief. As I played the songs over and over, it released a lot of my fear...the one described in the first track "If I Die in My Dreams".  It released a lot of grief, too.  This project is deeply spiritual and intended to help others.  Today I'm making the Deathfolk Magic EP free for all to download...there's no suggested donation or email sign up required. Feel free to share it with others if you think it might help.

Please stay safe during the coronavirus pandemic, for the sake of yourself and your community. Wash/sanitize your hands regularly for fuck sake and stop touching your face.  You can re-program yourself to NOT touch your face by wearing a bandana or homemade mask. Stay 6 feet away from others if you can. I know we can do this...I have a very strong sense that we will come out of this better, stronger and kinder humans than we were before.

Kindest regards,

Jezebel

All photography: Lars Kommienezuspadt
 

I’m still finding stickers on my body 
From when the nurse pulled the EKG cables off 
at the local emergency room 

I drove there on empty 
Chest pain making it hard to breathe 
And I thought about the songwriter’s songwriter 
Who lost his heart battle 
Here in Mount Juliet… 
Or maybe Smyrna 
(there are conflicting reports) 

I’ve been thinking of your death all week 
Bursts of fresh tears burn my skin  
They didn’t ask about you at the doctor 
X-rays and cardio-rhythms tell stories 
But never give the full report 

I said I might know
Why my chest has been hurting 
But they didn’t want to listen
Or they surely would have asked 
At least one follow-up question 
Streamlined science 
Without courageous empathy 
Is disappointing 
Dismissive
And maybe deadly 

They’re being kind
Asking if I like Tennessee
Excelling at small talk
As southern folk do
Another nurse and I have the same birthday
(which isn’t statistically significant, apparently)
And they talk about the cold spell we’re having
Careful not to ask questions
About the grief I had aforementioned

They pumped stuff through my one good vein
Said it would take away the pain
But it’s not going away
I know my own heart
And at this point I know
They’re afraid of my blue-gold eyes
Swelling red, welling up
So I lied to them and said
That the pain has gone away 

Then they leave me waiting
In an ice-cold room
For nearly three hours
Popping in periodically
To offer thin sterile blankets
While I wait for test results 

They didn’t ask
They didn’t want to know
Maybe they didn’t want to see me cry
Discomfort drives the diagnosis
(or lack thereof) 

The tests say I’m healthy
The doctor says I’m fine
The nurse said I could go
That I wasn’t going to die today
I told him a bit sternly
“you don’t know that”
I almost died yesterday
Just crossing the street
He much-too-quickly agreed
ER nurse pragmatism 

They treated me kindly
They didn’t refer me to a therapist
But suggested a cardiologist
If I had any further concerns 

They brought me two warm sterile blankets
But didn’t ask me two heart-felt questions
They took my blood and urine
But not my opinion
About the heartache behind the heart pains 

They gave me a prescription I won’t fill
It won’t heal the hurt I still feel
It’s been five years to the day
It never completely goes away 

I opened the wooden box
Untied the bag of ashes
Filled a brass pendant
To wear you close

I know my own heart

Love and Loss in 2018

Like most of us, 2018 dealt some hope but also a lot of pain. For me it was the loss of a very kind friend named Kelli Archer, from Austin, Texas.  She stuck her neck out for me more than once and supported hundreds of musicians through the shows she produced outside her former vintage store, Roadhouse Rags.  I wrote a tribute song in Kelli’s honor; you can check out a quick DIY live video of the song “The Last Austin Cowgirl” below.

This fall I also lost the lease to my apartment in Minneapolis unexpectedly. Since I didn’t have a day job lined up, my dog Banjo and I traveled between Nashville and Minneapolis, bouncing from Airbnbs to artist cabins to hotels to friend’s houses . Between September and November we stayed in 15 different places (!!!!), trying to find full time housing…without a job it was no easy task.  It was off-the-charts stressful and a bit depressing, but a few good friends came to the rescue during this time. Thank you, GOOD FRIENDS!  I love you and you mean the world to me. 

Release of Deathfolk Magic 

In the midst of all this housing chaos, I finally released the first EP for my side project Bye Bye Banshee. ‘Deathfolk Magic’ came out on October 5, 2018.   At its heart, Bye Bye Banshee is new-age-meets-old-world-funeral music.   I’ve been researching and writing music based around death culture and mythology for about six years…and we captured four folklore-inspired tunes on this initial recording. The EP was expertly co-produced by Jeff Crandall (Swallows, J.Briozo) and it was recorded/mixed/mastered by audio guru Tom Garneau (Prince, Sting).  I also had an amazing band backing me up on this production, including Chris and JT Bates, Aaron Kerr and Brett Hansen.

‘Deathfolk Magic’ has garnered some nice reviews so far. Here are a few quotes...

"She inhabits every line of the song with unique ferocity and demonstrates all-encompassing vocal control with her ability to vary her voice from hushed respect to muscular, elongated lines seemingly dredged up from fiery depths of her heart...Jezebel Jones has written and recorded an EP release no one else could have..." - No Depression

"The music is jazzy, dark, mystical and I thought it would work perfectly in the first season of True Detective...That being said the vocals are the star of the show. Jones is dynamic, sleek and mysterious when she sings..." - Divide and Conquer

"The whole thing sounds like a New Orleans jam designed to raise the dead, a shamanic ritual and soundtrack in a ballroom beyond time. But for all its bleak subject matter the music is gorgeous in its understatement...and beautifully soothing." - Dancing About Architecture

You can read more about the project, see the reviews and listen to/download the music here. 

I've Moved Again...this time to Nashville

In December I signed a lease just outside Nashville.  I won’t say exactly where but it’s very close to the cabin where my hero—songwriter Townes Van Zandt—died. For a nerdy nomadic introvert like myself it’s helpful to be in a friendly city where people actually look you in the eyes, smile and even say hello. It’s very easy to meet people here…and those little southern charms warm my chilly northern heart. But I won’t lie, it’s the music and the mild winters that makes me most excited to be here. I like walking my dog in the January rain, grass still lush and green.  I’ve seen some amazing music here and will start playing live shows again soon.

To keep in touch, be sure to sign up for my NEW AND IMPROVED monthly newsletter, which will kick off in February 2018. New music, videos, poetry, illustrations and more!!!  

 

Death is all around us. Mostly in America, we avoid it.  For some reason, it's comforting to acknowledge Lady Death and make peace with her. 

When I write a song that confronts my fears...when I sing and breathe out that fear, that ominous presence--a kind of exorcism happens. And the fear is banished. Or at least slinks away sullenly into a dark corner somewhere.

That's what happened with this song: healing magic. (Also, it's kind of badass, as acoustic songs go.)

A recurring nightmare.

A nightmare no more.

Exorcism.
 

Update: Check out the song "If I Die in My Dreams", by Jezebel's new side project Bye Bye Banshee.

Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 2 

Note: I just woke up this morning to find out about Chris Cornell's death. He was a music hero to me, mostly because of his phenomenal, expressive singing voice and partly because Soundgarden was one of my all-time favorite rock bands. RIP, Chris Cornell. The world won't be the same without you. 5/18/17 -JJ
 
7 live performance moves you should steal from Chris Cornell:

1. Create a Conversation. 
   One of the great things about watching Chris Cornell perform in Seattle was watching the ongoing, natural conversation that was happening between him and thousands of fans. While making that kind of connection with total strangers is more challenging, engaging the audience—asking them questions, answering their questions or just bantering like you would with a friend—makes a show personal and memorable. Janis Joplin was brilliant at inviting the audience to converse with her, as was Townes Van Zandt. When you listen to their respective live recordings, you feel like you’re part of something…instead of just listening to something.
    
2. Perform with Emotion. 
   One of the biggest gifts a performer can give the audience is to share their emotions in a genuine and raw way. I see this so rarely; Chris Cornell is pretty great at it. It doesn’t hurt to start out with a gorgeous voice, but plenty of great singers fail to move me emotionally. Conveying true emotion—and bringing the crowd along to feel it with you—is harder to do then most people think. It means vulnerability, letting go of ego so you can really ‘feel’ what you’re singing/playing. It also means letting go of self-consciousness and the need for perfection.
    
   Perfection is not terribly interesting, especially if the song or performance lacks emotion. Some roughness is absolutely essential.
    
3. Provide some eye candy. 
   Cornell had an understated but beautiful set and visually it set the mood for the evening. Humans don’t just hear things with our ears, we “hear” with our eyes, too. I love it when smaller bands or individuals take the time to do this—it really adds magic to a performance.
   
   Sure, it takes a little extra effort to create a backdrop or add a few stage props, some lighting effects, etc. but it helps your audience get (and stay) in the mood and feel more like they’re at a show, and less like they’re just watching some random band.
   
   P.S. unless you’re as recognizable as Chris Cornell, you should probably have your band/artist name displayed on stage during your set. This is helpful for getting new fans to know who you are and for them to reference when they're sharing pics/videos of your show. If you’re looking for DIY backdrop ideas there are some excellent tips here.
    
4. Use effective transitions to tie songs together. 
   I think many artists (especially ones who perform solo) struggle with how to tie the songs together and keep momentum going as they switch instruments, tune, etc. This was one of my favorite parts of the Higher Truth show: I absolutely loved the transitions between songs. In addition to conversing with the crowd, Cornell had a record player on stage and his tech played snippets of vinyl sometimes between the live songs. In addition, Cornell used a loop pedal sparingly but effectively during some transitions and as a swelling cacophony at the end of the show. It really got the crowd pumped for the encore.
    
5. Invite a guest or two—living or dead—to join you on stage. 
   For this tour, Chris Cornell played mostly solo and acoustic.But he had an excellent cellist, Bryan Gibson, who joined him for several songs throughout the evening; he was absolutely stellar and gathered his own applause during the show. Cornell also told a very hilarious—but clearly fictitious—tale of how they met “back in the day”. In addition, Pearl Jam guitarist Mike McCready joined him onstage for a couple of songs, much to the delight of the crowd.
    
   But one of the appearances that impressed me the most was Cornell’s former backing pianist—and songwriter in her own right—Natasha Shneider, who died of cancer in 2008. Cornell had recorded her piano part years earlier and put it on vinyl.  He explained this as he set the needle on the record; as her beautiful playing filled the auditorium, Cornell and Gibson rounded out the trio. It was a really lovely song and a fitting tribute to his friend.
    
6. Change things up. Frequently.
   Honestly, when I first saw the stage before the show, I’ll admit I did a teeny tiny eye roll at the 7…8…9? guitars on stage. For a SOLO acoustic show, mind you. But it made sense during the show—Cornell kept the performance interesting by changing things up frequently. In addition to some of the things I mentioned earlier—such as musical guests and good transitions—he changed instruments (different tunings, different sounds, harmonica) regularly throughout the set. The show had a lot of variety, considering he was on stage by himself for most of the 3 hours he performed.
   
   Oh, and wow: kudos to his hard-working guitar tech who barely stood still the entire show.
    
7. Steal a clever idea from a master performer.
   At some point in the show I realized that Cornell was wearing a harmonica rack around his neck—sans harmonica—and that he was actually singing into it, instead of a headset mic. I marveled over this clever idea before he explained how he saw Neil Young do it; Cornell stole the idea from him.
   
   
   I hope some of these ideas are helpful.  Please let me know if you have some additional advice for people looking to improve their live show. 
   
   
   Sin-cerely yours,
   
   
   Jez

Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 1 – Seattle ‘Higher Truth’ Show

 
Note: I just woke up this morning to find out about Chris Cornell's death. He was a music hero to me, mostly because of his phenomenal, expressive singing voice and partly because Soundgarden was one of my all-time favorite rock bands. RIP, Chris Cornell. The world won't be the same without you. 5/18/17 -JJ

***************************************************

I’m in my overpriced, moldy Fremont living room listening to the hazy, warm sounds of The Cult’s ‘Love’ album on vinyl, trying to decide what you tell you about last night. Damn. What a show.
 
After my recent move to Seattle, I found out Chris Cornell was going to playing a solo acoustic gig at Benaroya Hall, in the heart of downtown. Since I was on the mailing list (and if you’re a fan you probably should be on it), I got the early box office deal and splurged on 3^rd row center.
 
Now I’ve seen Cornell perform with Audioslave a few times, mainly due to my ex-boyfriend David, aka ‘the Minneapolis Mensch’. For many years, he was a sound guy/tour manager for Chevelle; I went to a few shows the two bands did together back in the day. I really dug Cornell’s smoky, multi-octave vocals, so I started listening to a shitload of Soundgarden, digging beyond the few hits I’d heard on the radio as a kid. Truthfully, it turned me into one of those annoyingly un-hip post-band-breakup fans. Looking-forward-to-the-reunion-‘cause-I-never-saw-them-live-before kind of deal. I apologize profusely for any pain this may cause real Soundgarden fans.
 
Fast forward {x?} years and I’m in Seattle, stoked about seeing Cornell’s solo show, strolling through a HUGE CLOUD OF POT SMOKE—some of which I may or may not be responsible for—and into Benaroya Hall. Some ridiculously nice older-lady ushers point the way to the “good seats” and I settled my leather dress-dressed self into the roomy third row, a mere 20 feet from the stage.
 

With Mike McCready. Photography: PeterDervin.com

At this point, if I were a Chris Cornell fan-freak, I would launch into some annoyingly-detailed play-by-play, citing every goddamn thing that happened during his set, including analysis of each song he played, the exact order he played the songs and how Cornell kinda-sorta clammed halfway through this one particular song but it was still SO amazing and blah, blah, fucking blah. 

Well, I’m not going to do that.  It sounds like a fairly tedious post for someone else to write. Probably some pale bearded hetero-man, who happens to have Mr. Cornell on his ‘allowed-to-be-gay-for’ list. Actually, if you must know some of these things, you might want to reference Dusty Henry's review on Consequence of Sound; it's detailed but not tedious. 
 
I CAN tell you this: the return of this Rain City son to a sold-out crowd of fans and friends was a beautiful thing to experience. He played almost everything I wanted to hear (except Mailman) and almost everything EVERYONE wanted to hear (except Outshined) because HE PLAYED FOR 3 MOTHERFUCKING HOURS, much of it solo. He played and played and sang and sang until some of the 40 and 50-somethings who had kids waiting at home with teenager babysitters had to leave.  And then he did an encore. 
 
SO instead of lulling you to sleep with a detailed analysis of the drop-D or drop-(insert favorite here) tunings on Cornell’s 9 or 10 guitars, in a few days I’ll publish a follow-up piece called Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 2 – 7 Ways to Make Your Next Live Performance Shine. Maybe there will be 10 things if I get all Irish about it. I think we can all benefit from the interesting creative decisions and killer performance skills that went into making last night’s show a memorable experience.
 
In the meantime, I’m packing my things. Moving day looms once again, like the approaching clouds of winter.  




-JJ
 

Read Masters of Performance: Chris Cornell, Part 2