Today we’d like to introduce you to Jaedyn James.
*Trigger Warning: This story includes references to domestic violence and sexual assault that may cause distress.
Hi Jaedyn, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today.
I was born in a small town in rural Wisconsin, Portage to be exact. I am the youngest of three girls. Before I turned two my biological father moved my family to Minneapolis so he could be closer to his mistress. By the time I was three, my parents were divorced and my father moved back to Wisconsin with the other woman, leaving me, my mother and my sisters in a tiny apartment outside of Minneapolis.
Mom worked full time as an activity director at a nursing home. She hosted happy hours and sing-alongs for seniors. It’s on the piano bench next to her where I learned musicals, jazz standards, and country western tunes. I knew from a very young age that I wanted to be a singer. Although my Mom introduced me to music I think my passion for it scared her, some days it scares me. Growing up in the Midwest I didn’t know anyone in the music scene.
Mom got remarried when I was five to a man I now consider to be my dad. My childhood was blissful somedays and hell others– we were a blended family and that comes with a lot of ups and downs. We were middle class. I daydreamed a lot. I skipped a lot of school and kissed a lot of boys. As a first grader I pretended I didn’t know how to read, but my sisters taught me to read before kindergarten. I “collected” scissors and stored them under my bed. At one point I must have had like a hundred pairs under there. Throughout my childhood I did all sorts of goofy mischievous stuff. When I was eight my grandmother and I watched The Bodyguard starring Whitney Houston for the first time, I wanted to be just like her.
As a child my biological father was still in the picture – when he wanted to be. Eventually he moved to Montana with his mistress-turned-wife. I spent a couple of summers out there and I fell in love with western music, the mountains, and farm life. I continued a relationship with him until I was old enough to realize how incredibly abusive and manipulative he was. I estranged myself from him in my early twenties.
I had no real direction or idea of what I wanted to do as an adult – music seemed like a pipedream so I followed my high school sweetheart to college. We didn’t last long. College after that was a total mess for me. I ignored my talents and desires for so long and it began to weigh on me. I wouldn’t say I was a bad student, but Mankato State didn’t offer classes on how to become Whitney Houston.
After the break up. I went wild. Sex, drugs, alcohol. Somewhere in the blur, I landed in my first band after my friend overheard me singing. A duo lovingly called The Porch Muse. I had tremendous stage fright, I still do. Even with it being just two girls playing break up music in coffee shops and basements it felt like being in front of thousands. But I got to sing the way I wanted and it was my first time I had ever written songs. It was so empowering. It felt like I was becoming the real me. The desire to pursue music became overwhelming.
I dropped out of college shortly after and moved in with my sister outside of the Twin Cities. I had no idea how to start a music career so naturally I dabbled with more drugs, and even worse? Boys. I auditioned for a music school and was accepted, but figured out very quickly I couldn’t afford it. RIP McNally. I tried out for American Idol and didn’t make it past the first round.
Those days were more than just a struggle to be on stage, or to get a band together. One weekend I threw a party while my sister was away. Whiskey and cocaine all night culminating in hooking up with a crush and then blacking out. He had to go to work in the morning so at some point, he called a cab and headed out. While he and I were together I didn’t know it, but another round of people had showed up to the party. One of those people stayed behind after everyone had left and while I was passed out he snuck into my bedroom. I have no idea how long he had been in my bedroom, but I woke up to him assaulting me.
When I came to, I fought back. Somewhere in the struggle I gained the higher ground and began to push him out of my house. I pushed him like a bulldozer. I pushed him all the way out of my house into the middle of the street. The sun was just coming up and I was completely naked. I remember just standing there watching him run down the street.
I didn’t call the police. I didn’t call anyone. I wouldn’t speak a word about that event for two years.
I was shattered. I became a person I didn’t recognize. The years following the assault felt like I was living behind the glass of an aquarium just watching my life happen around me. Being vulnerable and lost and injured like that is a dangerous place to be for anyone. You never know who will walk in and take advantage.
A couple months after the assault I met who we will call “John.” From moment one he told me everything I wanted to hear. That he was successful in music. That he had an incredible job. That he believed in me and my talent even though he had never heard me sing. Desperate for love and the desire to feel safe I ate up every word.
Within a couple of months, I moved out of my sister’s and into a house with him on the other side of town. My family and friends warned me to slow down, but I couldn’t hear them. A few friends brought up how he was a liar and even had evidence. It didn’t matter.
John and I rented the house across town in a neighborhood where I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t know it then, but he was very good at isolating me. Looking back at it, it’s all so clear, I was trying so hard to create this picture-perfect life. It didn’t take long for the facade to crack and for me to realize my friends were right and that he was a pathological liar. Perhaps the biggest lie was that he didn’t have a job at all, let alone a good one. I have no idea where he would go during the day. I had four jobs at that time so I was busy. I would catch him in all sorts of crazy lies all and still I stayed.
He was more than a liar. In the beginning when I would catch him in lies and he would follow me around the house crying and talk his way out of it. He would scream about how he couldn’t believe I didn’t trust him, how he would never hurt me, but that’s all he did. He would pull at my clothes and scratch at me and pinch me and pull my hair. When I would go out with friends he would ruin my things. He would cut up my clothes, break my records, ruin my food, throw away my belongings. Sometimes he would just stomp around the house slamming doors, yelling, and talking to himself. Many nights I would sleep in a closet on the floor. When I reached my breaking point I told him I wanted to end the relationship and that’s when the violence escalated. It was the first time he hit my face. I fought back and he choked me against a wall and then he sexually assaulted me. The entire event scared me so deeply I never fought back again.
I never called the police. I never told my family or friends. I didn’t take pictures of the bruises. Selfies weren’t a thing yet. The truth is I thought I deserved all of it. I was so ashamed of who I was, of what my life had become, I felt like I was less than nothing. I was too embarrassed and too ashamed to tell anyone about anything that was going on. There were times I thought I’d never get out alive. Those years took pieces of me I’ll never get back.
Shame is a trap. So I stayed. Even though the lease didn’t allow for them, we got a dog. I named her Junior. Somewhere inside me, I knew that if it came down to it, I wanted her to be my dog – I knew if I named her after myself there would be no argument about who she belonged to.
One day I came home to find Junior filthy covered in her own mess, crying in her crate. Meaning John had sat there all day doing nothing, just listening to her cry. The next day I packed my bags and we left. I moved in with my parents.
Even after moving out I continued to pay rent – in those days there weren’t laws to protect domestic abuse victims. At some point while I was gone John abandoned the house and stopped paying rent – I couldn’t afford the entire rent on my own so I was “evicted” – technically it’s called an unlawful detainer, if you’ve ever had any housing issues you know what I’m talking about. I was notified by the leasing company that his dad had been paying his portion of the rent the entire time. When I went back to the house it was wrecked- cabinets, toilets clogged, doors off hinges, windows broken. The grass had been burned. It was like a bomb had gone off. Because the leasing company couldn’t find John they happily slapped me with all the damages. It took me four years to pay off the damages and the back rent. The eviction would stay on my record for eight years.
The day I found out the eviction had come off my record was a show day. I cried so hard I could barely get my makeup on. I gave a whole speech on housing rights and domestic abuse during my show – the audience and my band were shocked. Eight years is a long time to have a hard time getting into good housing.
After the eviction I stayed with my parents for a few months to get back on my feet and landed a job as a host at a fine dining restaurant that opened in the North Loop across from Bunkers. Bunkers is a legendary funk and soul club, if you know you know. When I would stand at the host stand I would stare out the window at Bunkers across the street and I see all the people dancing and sweating and I envied them. The people that I met then would change my life forever. I moved into a house with one of my coworkers and dated another. I credit them for loving me back to life.
My boyfriend at that time was a real gem. He was supportive, funny, and mature. He was also 10 years my senior and ready to settle down. One night after karaoke he was stunned by my voice and stage presence -“who was that?!” he asked, shocked. I remember thinking “that was the real me.”
The next morning I told him “I think I need to start a band.” His response was “It can always be a hobby.” It struck me like lightning. He didn’t say it to be mean he just didn’t understand what singing and music meant to me. I had been coveting it since I was a little girl, he had only ever heard me sing one karaoke song. I realized if I didn’t try to do music in a serious way that I’d regret it my whole life. That everything I had been through would have been for nothing.
That night he slept over. I couldn’t sleep. At about 3 am, I went out onto the front stoop to smoke a cigarette. I was poor and lived in a rough neighborhood off lake street. I remember feeling like I could end up sick and broken on the streets if I don’t get it together. My boyfriend woke up and sat down next to me on the stoop and said something like ““are you ok?” I looked at him and flatly replied, “We have to break up. I have to start a band, and you can’t be a part of it.” He left 15 minutes later.
From that moment on for the next 5 years, all I did every moment of every day was work on my band. I called and texted everyone I knew that had ever played the kazoo. People would show up to an audition and I would just say “Welcome to the band” before they even started playing. Within two months I had an 8 piece band. Over the next few months, it would balloon to a 12 piece. With the help of the bass player and drummer, I named the band Jaedyn James & The Hunger. It was fitting.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I just went for it. I didn’t know how to read music or write songs. I had never been in any kind of leadership role. I barely knew what I was doing as a singer. I had never booked a show or made a poster or sold tickets or cared about social media. I had never created a brand or website. I didn’t know what a stage plot was or what a monitor or an amp or even what the hell a microphone cord was called.
I was fueled by blind passion. It was the first time I was alive in years. The band took off relatively quickly. It was a stage full of hot young people and a slew of horns – who knows what we were playing- who cares if it sounded good. It didn’t matter. We had energy and within a few months, we were getting bookings all over the cities. Then we started touring the midwest. The first lineup of the band was primarily friends and family – we loved the hell out of each other. Everyone dated each other. It was a mess.
I started to notice that I was outgrowing some of the players and the music and wanted to take on harder material. I had no idea how to voice my frustration or how to get what I wanted. I loved them all so much. By being in the band they were all contributing to me achieving my dream and somehow at the same time they were holding me back from it.
I did everything I could think of to improve the band. I drove members to lessons , we rehearsed twice a week, I mommed the hell out of everyone. It was exhausting. It was also the most rewarding time of my life. I gained mentors and friends in the music scene who readily criticized me and the band– sometimes I would listen, oftentimes I didn’t. For a while, we didn’t even have a guitar player but we had a 4 piece horn section? I got humbled a few times. I still get humbled. As I said, I had no idea what I was doing, but there’s a lot of power in not knowing. A lot of freedom.
I didn’t care what anyone thought about what I was doing. I was living my dream. I was alive. I made it out of hell. Who cared if I looked foolish? Not me. I learned more in those five years than in the entirety of the rest of my life. Part of the learning process was learning how to manage a band which for the most part came very naturally to me. I felt relaxed in chaos and loved falling asleep to people laughing. But it wasn’t all laughs – managing a band could be hell.
I’m the first to admit I’ve hurt a lot of people because of my dream and pissed off a lot of men because I told them exactly what I thought. What were they going to do to kill me? Lie to me? Gaslight me? Been there.
To me – at some point – men didn’t matter anymore. Not their opinions anyway. They all just seemed to get in the way, even the good ones.
I’ve held crying women in my arms after shows because they relate to the music – to the message, to me, and if I can make the show better for them – for us – for the little girl inside of us who dreams big? I have to. Running a small business is hard as hell. Running a business as a woman in the music industry in the Midwest? Is harder. There are more women in music these days, but still especially on a local level – it’s a boys club. I struggle to bring women onto my projects because they are so booked. It’s a great time to be a woman instrumentalist. Love to see it. Must see more women gatekeepers. Must see more women in leadership positions. We ain’t done yet.
I created Jaedyn James because I wanted to be a woman who could not be touched. I wanted to be the scariest thing a man could lay their eyes on. And for a long time I was. I had a lot to prove to myself and to everyone around me. I was so unbelievably busy during The Hunger years. I was single the entire time I ran that band. Sure I dated people and even dabbled in an affair with a married man BIG MISTAKE do not recommend – but no one called Jaedyn James their girlfriend and I preferred it that way. When the bass player and I started The Hunger we shook on committing five years of our lives to it. We kept that promise to each other. We are still very close.
In the last year of the Hunger, I experienced the tragic loss of three close friends. I was devastated and exhausted. I had achieved so much in such a short amount of time. I sang in front of thousands of people, recorded a couple records, produced music videos, got songs played on the radio, booked hundreds of shows, bought a tour van, and lived off my music for an entire summer, but I knew I had to challenge myself and that I had become resentful of the project I had created.
So I made the decision to end The Hunger. The last summer of The Hunger was the busiest one of them all. I wanted the group to end on a high note and we did. I’m extremely proud of that project and incredibly grateful to everyone who was involved. There’s so much more I could write about those days. I had the time of my life.
I became a solo artist in the fall of 2019. I had been writing an album outside The Hunger for almost a year at that point with a music director, Ilan Blanck. I intended to debut my new material in April of 2020, but covid took center stage instead. I’m no stranger to scratching my way out of hell so I rolled up my sleeves and dug into pandemic life. I put music on the back burner and landed a job at the unemployment department. It was my first office job. It was total insanity. I was on the phone with desperate, scared, anxious, and angry people 8 hours a day, 5 days a week nonstop for two entire years. Like a lot of people I know – I had a complete breakdown in the winter of 2021. I stopped singing altogether. Emotionally, it was too painful to sing. My whole life, the momentum I had built, vanished. When the vaccine came in late spring of 2021 I was a shell of a woman.
In the summer of 2021 I moved into a very sweet duplex in south Minneapolis with a garden. I took the summer for myself, got into therapy, and started rehearsing with a band of some of the hottest musicians in town.
I finally debuted as a solo artist in October of 2021 – I did a run of shows that went fairly well until covid shut down our venues for the winter. The time off after the first push was actually a great gift. I’ve always been bad at investing time in my own talent. I’m always so busy making sure everyone else is ok.. The music business is vast so you have to be careful about where and how you spend your energy – especially if you play all the roles like I do. I am slowly and carefully creating my team for the next push. I am happy to say that I have a manager now.
I released a music video for my song Push & Pull in early February of 2022. It is a song about finding the strength to get out of a toxic relationship. To me, it’s an anthem about moving forward and getting out.
For the last year I’ve been diligently working on recording my first solo album, Loving You So Hard. I’m due to release her in the spring of 2023. I’ve got wonderful shows and festivals on the books and I’m so excited for this summer. I’m so proud of this record and of myself.
I’ve been taking vocal lessons, playing with my dog Junior – she turned 11 this year, being gentle with myself, and protecting my peace. The music industry has been extremely rocked. I don’t anticipate it to recover fully for the next few years. And as painful as it is, it’s ok. I love music, it is the love of my life, but I have no big dreams of fame anymore. Fame isn’t attractive to me. I want to be a good person, I want to write good music, and I want to play great shows with wonderful people and musicians. I want to live by my values. I want to eat well and love and laugh deeply with friends. I want to release this badass album that I’ve poured every fiber of my being into.
The future looks bright. I have so enjoyed recording this album. I feel safe and beautiful in my skin and I’ve fallen in love with singing again.
When I was little my mom would turn off the lights after saying goodnight and instead of sleeping I would sing instead.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It hasn’t been a smooth road. Some days it feels like I’ve lived a million lives. I’m still grateful for my journey.
Some of the biggest challenges I’ve faced and survived are:
Dad abandoned my family for another woman at a young age
Drug, Alcohol and Sex Addiction
Sexual assault
Domestic Abuse
Being a woman in music
Not knowing how to read or write music
Poverty
Tragic death of young friends
Pandemic
Doubt
Anxiety
Depression
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
Currently I’m focused on myself! After four years of writing, recording, and producing. I am very close to releasing my first full length album, Loving You So Hard. My goal was to enjoy the process of making this album and to create something I am proud to listen to when I’m a little old lady in my log cabin next to a fire. I can honestly say I’ve achieved that. I can’t wait for you all to hear it!
Any advice for finding a mentor or networking in general?
Make friends with people who don’t look like you. Put yourself in places where your people are. Reach out in humility to those who are doing what you want to do and study what they’ve done.
Learn to love practice.
Music business is risky as hell, if you want to go big you better be willing to go out on a limb and fall on your face.
People aren’t going to like you all the time. Get used to it.
No one is going to hand you a career or happiness. You are responsible for both.
Be kind to others while still protecting yourself. You will need a team of people you can trust. A mentor is not a yes man – a mentor is going to challenge you and give you goals.
Be trustworthy.
Fail often. Every successful person you know failed their way to the top.
Be uncomfortable. Introduce yourself. Have a sense of humor. Send e-mails. Send DM’s. Cold calls are part of the business – sometimes you’ll get a call back, sometimes you won’t. Try to understand that fine line between a nudge and being annoying. Do research about the companies and people you work with. Education (doesn’t need to be formal) is key.
Be authentic – knowing who you are and what you like is essential to making real connections with people and your business and talent. When you know what you want it is easy for people to fall into alignment with that – including yourself.
Dream big – sometimes you’ll have to be realistic and staying grateful for what you do have will help you navigate this world. The music industry is a very hard industry and if you don’t watch out it can break you down. It’s more saturated than ever before. Knowing what you want out of music and your life is key to finding and creating your own definition of success.
Contact Info:
- Website: jaedynjames.com
- Instagram: @thee_jaedyn.james
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thejaedynjames
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCUQh_lP1G6SxY2xM_HhKVGA
Image Credits
Jaedyn James, Alexander Just, Soul Exposure Photography, The Hunger Lochner Brother – Peoplefest, Taylor Donskey – Tucker Jensen, Atwood Photographer, Christina, and Junior & JJ
