Where I've Been

In the fall of 2024, I released my fourth album, Build Again. It was supported by the Alberta Foundation for the Arts and the Edmonton Arts Council. It felt very timely as we emerged from the shadow of COVID. The record explored themes of rebuilding after loss, and at the time, it felt like the perfect reflection of where we were collectively: fragile, uncertain, hopeful, starting over.

In the past year and a half since, as the world has continued to shift, where I thought I would be pushing for more opportunities to perform and get my music out there, I found myself pulling back. We’re surrounded by technology that’s supposed to bring us closer, yet we often feel more fragmented than ever. I started questioning what kind of voice I have in all of this, and whether I have anything meaningful to add. Ironically, I had already explored this in the song, Burning Bridges from the new album.

I like many artists, have a full-time job outside of music. Being a musician, especially an independent one, is a labor of love. Streaming services offer little in the way of compensation unless you’re an artist who can also sell out a stadium, and trying to sustain both a creative life and a stable life can be a lot. There’s a question that has kept surfacing for me this year: What am I willing to sacrifice for my art?

I love writing, performing, and connecting with people. But I hate trying to package those things into a product, and while I watch in admiration while many of my peers successfully navigate this world, it’s time to admit that I don’t want to figure out how to make the algorithms work in my favour, or try to sell myself as a product. Coming to terms with that over the past year has been tough, as to a certain extent it means letting go of a dream I've had in my heart as far back as I can remember. What am I willing to sacrifice? Apparently not my steady job, more of my time and the sense of stability these things bring.

So what does that mean? It’s time to try something different.

As of early 2025, I stepped away from Instagram and Facebook. Instead of trying to use tools that are becoming increasingly unhealthy in my opinion, I’m going to return to slower ways of connecting, ways that feel a little more like me. Writing here, on my own site, sending updates through my email list, and looking for opportunities to perform that allow me to continue to connect with folks who want to listen in meaningful ways, be that concerts, open stages, or a friend's backyard for an evening jam. I want to be in the community.

I love writing and singing. It’s been a bit of a desert this past year, creatively speaking. But tonight, as I write this, I can hear thunder getting closer, the wind is picking up, and there’s lightening flashing in the distance. I think that means something’s coming.

I look forward to sharing it with you.

Jess with Bill Werthmann at the album release concert for Goodbye Party (2019)