Through the unlocked gate, past the lion, go through the open door behind it. These are the instructions I read from my phone as I arrive in the 7th Ward for an interview with Sari Jordan to discuss their debut album, PERFECT BE THE ENEMY. I find the open door and enter the world of Sari (“Sari like fairy” they tell me)—sunny yellow paint on the walls accented with tranquil shadows cast by soft glowing lights on side tables. Guitars, plants, books, and an upright bass leaning in a corner adorn the living room where we sit. A performer since childhood, Jordan has turned to songwriting and singing for self-expression since moving to New Orleans from Harrington Park, New Jersey in 2018. Imagine that your first years in the city were bookended by COVID-19 and Hurricane Ida, putting you and your creative outlets through social distancing, evacuation, and separation from home again and again. While their experience of the local music community is largely post-pandemic, Jordan’s work is very much a product of this city, and a time that has been anything but normal, even by New Orleans standards. We discuss their artistic origins, the previously released EP Sing To The Moon, and the transitions, both personal and musical, that took place in the three years between then until now, at the precipice of a full length album release.
You are originally from New Jersey. How did you get here? And why?
I came here for school. I went to Tulane [for a double major in environmental studies and political science]. I didn’t know that all this music was gonna unfold, but I also was unable to not be singing all the time. I think by the time sophomore year came around, I was playing in a band and writing more original songs. And then COVID hit my sophomore year.
Oh my God. That’s crazy.
Honestly. So, I have no idea what the music scene was really like before COVID. I had been going out to SideBar and going to see jazz, but that was kind of it. I went to New Jersey for lockdown because I didn’t have a place to live. They kicked us out of the dorms. If I had a house, I probably would have stayed. But being flung back to New Jersey for lockdown and missing [New Orleans], I knew that I wasn’t going to leave. I didn’t want to go anywhere else. And I was so into music. It wasn’t a question. I had to come back. And then it’s junior year and that’s mostly Zoom school. And then senior year is Ida. So, back to Zoom school. There were just so many disturbances to any kind of musical relationships or collaborations.
How did that affect the budding musical relationships you did have here?
It forced me to get onto the computer and try to send things back and forth. But I definitely didn’t want to. I fought tooth and nail. So I ended up just playing a lot of ukulele alone. I learned a lot about harmony through doing that. And then I finally got the courage to pick up the guitar.
Did you have any sort of performance background before that?
I was a theatre kid—high school theatre. And I did a couple of open mics where I would sing covers, like “Royals” by Lorde and “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles.
Did you ever envision having any sort of… I don’t know if career is the right word, but—
I’m calling it a career. I did not. I never considered it an option. But then when COVID hit, I was basically radicalized. Life’s short. I’m going to do what I want.
How did singing and songwriting become mediums for you?
Necessity? I’ve always been singing and writing songs, honestly, since I was a little kid. The first song I remember writing was when I was 8. It’s always been a way that I’ve made sense of my world and reconciled conflict in relationships. It’s always been a tool for me.
Could you recognize it as such at 8 years old or was it just fun?
Why was I writing about the boys in my class like that? I was torn up. Other times I was just having fun and thinking: Let me write a song that is not actually how I feel, but about what’s being pumped into my brain via radio, airwaves, and retail. Taylor Swift and Katy Perry and Lady Gaga and Adele.
The first time I can remember seeing you live was at Marigny Opera House, playing with Regenerator, a.k.a. one of my very good friends, George Wilde. That would have been right after your debut EP came out, right?
Yeah, that was the one time I’ve been hired to be an instrumentalist. I was like, George, man, I’m freaking out. And you know, he’s so chill and kind and he was so patient.
Jordan performs at Saturn Bar on April 15, accompanied by Banjo Bergfeld on keys, Howe Pea on drums, and Adam Samolsky on bass.
What have the three years between releasing that EP and now looked like for you, creatively speaking?
It looked like me playing shows and learning a lot about performing live and different instrumentations and really getting the reps in of music directing. I really did a lot of arranging and music directing and coordinating and managing the beast—and understanding how to do that all myself, which is creative in itself. I think so. Writing the songs for this record was during the time after the EP came out, being in a lot of bands, and trying to understand what my career in music could look like. So, at first I’m taking every sideman and jazz gig that I can get my hands on, just Frenchmen Street-style maxing out. I did that for a little while and it felt very glamorous. Even when it was unglamorous, it felt glamorous. It was glamorous in its visceralness. Then my car got towed when I played a double on Krewe du Vieux and I was like, I’m over this shit.
It’s glamorous until it very much is not.
It was glamorous in that I got to meet so many people and learn so much music. My musicality came so far in that time. And so I was really vibing with that. But I didn’t have any time for my relationships or my own creative practice at all. I wanted to find another job that is still creative, but not be a singer for hire. I still like to do that and I will do it as often as I can in a way that feels good. But I really don’t want to overdo it again.
That is a really astute observation to have so early in a career. I’ve been through burnout way too many times and should understand the signs of it by now.
Because I didn’t dive into music when I was 18, I kind of felt like a late bloomer. And I felt like it took me years to find my burnout line. But it was only like three years instead of 10.
That’s pretty fast.
I’ll take it.
In listening to both the EP and the singles that you have released, there’s so little, stylistically and instrumentally speaking, for your vocals to hide behind. And that just struck me. Was having a kind of “stripped-down” style what felt most natural to you? Or was that a choice that you made early on? How did your sound come to be?
I think that’s a really interesting observation. I think that all of the producers–Keenan McRae on Sing to the Moon and Robin Sherman and Ajaï Combelic on PERFECT BE THE ENEMY—I’ve worked with to make those two records understood that my voice was at the center of things. And so we built it around my voice. I am curious to understand how my sound will change in the future as I get more comfortable in other parts of my musicality. And I wonder what will happen if I ever shift away from focusing on the voice, which could happen. I think for now, it’s just been what I feel like is my main offering to the world. But the feedback from this record so far has been like, whoa, your writing!
I’m glad to hear that because your writing paints such a picture. And, vocals aside, so does your actual intonation in any given moment. There is so much storytelling for the listener. There was never a moment where I wasn’t feeling something. And as a creative living in the world today, there’s so much I’m constantly tamping back down and trying not to feel, you know? But I have to feel when I’m listening to this.
Thank you. I’ve realized just how emotional my songwriting is. I feel like understanding what my music does for people helps me find the people that might want to hear it. Which is also my task as a self-managed artist, you know? So it all kind of helps. Thank you for listening so intently and for letting it into your heart.
You have so far released three singles from the new album. It will be four by the time this feature comes out. Why did you choose those to be the singles?
It was a hard choice. My friends and family love “LION SONG” and “GOLD RUSH,” but I wanted to use the songs and their soundscapes to introduce people to the new world that is the album and an updated version of myself as an artist. And so “FREAK” felt like a really good bridge and also like a kooky reintroduction. “TABLE OF ANGELS”—why did I pick that one? I just love it. I feel like “FANCY” and “FREAK” kind of compliment each other. Then “TABLE OF ANGELS” is so unique and inspired by Madison Cunningham and Lianne La Havas and Willow.
That’s so interesting. I kept thinking, “Wow, this is like a New Orleans Lianne La Havas.”
Yes! When I moved into this house in New Orleans, I listened to her record and Gabrielle Cavassa‘s self-titled, just like switching between the two. When I was still in school, Gabby was shining super brightly. And then I did the math and realized Gabby released her self-titled when she was my age. That’s crazy.
And here we are. Here you are. Where do you feel like you’ve grown or evolved the most?
Band leading. Musicality. Being able to express my vision creatively. I love my EP and it’s beautiful work and I stand by it, but it isn’t really super close to the vision that I had in my head. And that’s no fault of my collaborators, but rather just reflective of the point where I was at in my journey of being able to communicate those things. I needed endurance to be able to advocate for my vision over and over and over and over and over again, because that’s actually kind of hard. And I needed the vocabulary. And I do believe that plenty of people are out here making music and they don’t know a lick about theory and that’s totally fine. That’s fine. But I feel so empowered when I can ask for what I want. And then when we got to the studio, I could produce this album, which I didn’t know I could do.
And how close do you feel like the final product is to what you first envisioned?
It’s exactly as I envisioned it. How we did things is exactly how I wanted to do them. I’m really pleased. I love this record so much.
Can you speak at all to where you were when you were writing these songs and the context that led to them?
The trenches of my early 20s. The making of this album has been a constant process of radical self-acceptance.
A lot of the people reading this magazine understand what you’re talking about.
There are songs about grief, there’s songs about a breakup, there’s songs about my transition. From writing the lyrics, to recording it to tape, to reckoning with the climate into which I am releasing [the album], I was asked, by myself, to face myself. These songs were a place where I could practice that self-acceptance on my own and with my inner circle before I shared that part of myself more openly. There’s songs about finding my place in my work community, in my creative community. I was just attempting to live the life. I wrote these songs from that and the relationships that I was experiencing and the changes in my relationship with myself. And then I moved into this place right before we started recording the record. So this house is the album also. I painted these walls yellow. They say when you make an album, you’re building the house that you’ll live in for the next couple of years. So I was like: I want to build the house how I want to build it. I was moving from a place of helplessness to a place of being in my power in a really meaningful way. I know how to ask for what I want.
Jordan performs at Saturn Bar on April 15 for the release party for “GROW APART,” the last single before the debut of their first full-length album.
What does it feel like now to have the house built and be able to walk through and see it all put together and finished?
It’s kind of like throwing a housewarming party where you’re like, is anybody gonna come? Or is it just gonna be me and all these snacks I made? I know that’s not true, but it’s just been a couple of weeks since I’ve played a show in town. I know as soon as I play a show in town, I’m gonna feel better. Sometimes I have a little bit of doubt, but all I really need to do is put it on and listen to the work I did and try to think of a new way to play it and revisit it. Whatever happens, I’m actually detached from the outcome.
What are you most excited for and/or hopeful about for this release?
I’m gonna hold that vinyl in my hands probably tomorrow and it’s gonna be crazy. That’s one thing I’m really excited for. The other thing I’m really excited for is the album release show. I’m gonna have some of my favorite musicians and I’m gonna present the music in a way that doesn’t have to fit into a three-band-bill show format. I’m going to present the music exactly how I want… I feel like whether or not things in my career change when the album is out, I know that it’ll just be different because it’s not mine anymore. And it’s been mine for three years.
Speaking of the album release show, where will that be and who’s going to be involved in that?
Café Istanbul. May 14th. The album comes out at midnight that night on the 15th. It’ll come out while we’re all still in Café Istanbul partying. I’m going to have the quartet, which is Adam Samolsky, Marco Saah, Banjo Bergfeld, and Robbie Wallace on trombone and Ethan Santos. Also I’ll have Chris “Burris” [Hochkeppel] and Jennie Brent playing cello because there’s those cello parts on “FREAK” as well as “LION SONG.” I’m basically just trying to pack the house with my friends doing all of the roles. My friend Keenan [McRae] is on sound.
To bring it all the way back to George Wilde, something he and I used to talk a lot about in the trenches of our 20s, was that there’s tons and tons of music that’s not “New Orleans music,” but it’s music that could not exist without New Orleans. What role do you think this city plays in both your musical journey and the footprint of the album as a whole?
I can talk about this for so long. So I’m going to try to distill. I’ll start with the album. New Orleans has taught me that it’s cool to be scrappy and to just get it together. However it comes together, that’s awesome. It’s OK to let all the different flavors just talk to each other. So I tried not to be too precious about anything, which was very helpful. And definitely in the arrangements of the music, I think coming from studying American songbook tradition and playing in jazz idioms, I just have that background of how to lead a band. I also tried to put it in an indie pop and rock context, which is the music that I also listen to, so that’s the fusion there. And all the people who are on it live here. Everyone. That’s kind of cool. It would not exist without being here. It was recorded right next to Saturn Bar and the vinyl’s being printed two blocks down. And then my day job teaching music lessons and kids’ arts classes is two blocks down from that. Then as far as my musical career journey overall—the musician inside me was so injured and scared when I arrived here. And this place really just nurtured that kid who didn’t think that they would ever be good enough to even deserve to play the big beautiful instruments like that. The sheer musical abundance helped me get courage and audacity and boldness. I learned how to do everything I know how to do from learning it from my friends and community. I just feel really grateful to have been able to learn by example from everybody who came before me.
There’s a lot of things this city does poorly, but community is one that it does incredibly well.
Community and generational knowledge transfer. The way that information moves from person to person now is so different that I feel like being here, in a place where oral tradition and generational connection is so important, is more vital than ever.
Sari Jordan’s album release show is May 14 at Cafe Istanbul. Their new album, PERFECT BE THE ENEMY will drop and be for sale during the show. And you can read more about the album in this month’s Reviews section. For more info on Sari Jordan, check out sarijordan.com and @sarijjordan on Instagram.
Photos by Katie Sikora
