j solomon On The Labor of Love That Flourished Into ‘KILL THE ROCKSTAR’
Two years ago, Pennsylvania-raised Jesse Moldovsky began j solomon’s indie-rocker journey—a path full of late nights, ear-shattering records, and an uprooting to The Big Apple. This illuminating season would later be immortalized in his newest EP KILL THE ROCKSTAR, an infectious six-track saga that crackles with rock-and-roll.
We sat down with Jesse to discuss what defines a rock star, embracing hurdles in the songwriting process, and his newfound affinity for sewing.
What's your definition of a rock star, and has this changed from the start of making the EP to now?
I think the idea of a rock star is kind of mythologized. I don't think that a real rock star even really exists nowadays. I guess it's an attitude. I know for me, it's a persona that I have when I am j solomon. It’s a confidence, and the music to go along with it.
You’ve touched on how the process for this project has been a labor of love and a pain in the ass. Was there a notable roadblock for you that you feel like shaped the record?
I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. At the same time, every part of this EP was a roadblock, in a good way. I think it was a learning experience and necessary. Coming up with ideas, going back on those ideas, and then completely changing my mind. Going back to square one on a bunch of songs that were already finished, changing the tracklist, changing the whole visual idea and aesthetic… A lot of roadblocks, but I think they all had to happen to get the final product.
How do you know when a song is done?
I'm not too picky. I know there are people who really obsess, and I know I just said that I did too on a couple of songs. I think I don't necessarily care that much sonically about things like, “Oh, I think that the kick drum is too loud.” It's just a feeling. I listen to it and I'm like, “Yeah, this is good.”
Do you start out with an idea and go into the songwriting process knowing what you're going to write? Or do you come in with a blank slate, and write whatever you feel at the moment?
My songwriting process is—I don't know the right word for it—I don't ever force it. I never really say, “Okay, I’m going to write a song now.” I have a very long, running list of words and phrases that I like, and anytime I think of something, I'll just write it down. I do a lot of songwriting in the shower when I’m in my own head. I do a lot of songwriting late at night when I can't go to sleep. It’s all lyric ideas and words that fit together like a puzzle. In my head, I'll be like, “Oh, these things all rhyme and make sense together,” and the music and the melody kind of come along with that. Eventually, when there's a concrete enough idea that I've written down, I'll take it to the guitar and it'll become a song. But more recently, I'll get very far in that process. I'll have the full song, full production, in my head.
How do you nurture your creative brain when you're not writing songs? Or do you feel like you're always writing songs, technically?
I'm kind of always on the job. Although songwriting is not really a job, at least when I'm doing it myself. I think I'm one of those people who has a bunch of random little interests that I've been expanding on. I really like to cook. This past year, I taught myself how to sew—not with a machine, just hand sewing—but I've been fixing my jeans and stuff. I've been teaching myself Photoshop, so I've been getting more into graphic design. I really like clothes—I feel like that can be a creative thing. I'm a big fan of TV.
In your blog, you had a list of cool songs and albums that've inspired you. Specifically with the Cameron Winter album, you mentioned that it toes the line between “good” and “bad” music, and that's where great art happens. What elements do you think an album needs to be great art? Or is there an artist that you think is doing that right?
I think Cameron Winter is a good example of someone modern. Obviously, Mk.gee fits into that world. My pillars of artists that I think are amazing are not scared to stray into sonically bad places—that doesn't mean that the song is bad—you understand what I mean. Big Thief does it. Townes Van Zandt, my favorite songwriter, does it. Jason Molina, Songs: Ohia, he does it. It’s a level of confidence and lack of fear, and creating art without boundaries. That is something I'm really interested in, and I crave to hear that. I feel like you can really hear on a record when something is done outside of the scope of what's trending and what's current, and just all art-forward.
For some of the process, you were in New York, which is such a creative hub with so many different voices. How did you go about honing in on your voice when you were there?
I moved from a small town in Pennsylvania to New York to LA. It’s such an artist thing to move to a big city and then write about living in a big city. That’s what we all do, I think.
There's a special thing about New York. It’s so small and so condensed, and there are so many people who are so different and doing similar things in a parallel way. What I like about New York compared to LA is that it doesn't matter if you’re struggling to pay $600 in rent in a studio deep in Queens, or if you pay $25 million to have a brownstone off Central Park. You step out of your home and onto the subway, and everybody is equal. That's cool and is a conduit for cool stuff to happen.
You have such an evocative style of writing where each track pulls its listeners into a specific world. Is there a lyric or song that surprised you, or felt cathartic to put into words?
Yeah, totally. That's a good question. What comes to mind is the song “SPARK,” the last track. Speaking back on bands like Big Thief, and even Pine Grove or Bon Iver, the thing that I crave about their music, as well as the catharsis and just the huge release that happens, “SPARK” is my version, or my take on that. Compared to the rest of the EP, it’s one of the darker, more somber tracks. But I wanted it to go from this small, insular thing to exploding and getting everything out. It felt like the perfect end to the project for that reason.
Were there any tracks that didn't make the cut for the EP? Or was it everything you wanted?
There is one song that, for the past year, was on the EP instead of the song “FISHBOWL.” This song was called “WASH THE SHEETS,” and I still really like that song. It was my experiment of making a true pop song, and also making a song that wasn't autobiographical, which most of my music is. For those reasons, and also sonically, we kept trying things and were like, “This almost works.” It didn't make the cut, but we'll see if maybe something will happen with that one eventually.
You’ve mentioned how the project marks the end of this specific chapter in your life. Is there a direction you want to go next? Or do you go with the flow until something feels right?
There are a couple of things that I'm secretly working on. But in terms of what's next for j solomon, I'm gonna let this KILL THE ROCKSTAR thing run its course because there's a whole short film that's going to be coming out, and there's going to be some shows and maybe some touring. Like you said, I really want to have some time to let the project breathe and let whatever happens next feel like the right thing naturally.
I usually like to listen to a whole project from start to finish in my car and really soak in every track. Is there a place where you like to listen to albums or your projects front to back?
Honestly, I wish I had a better answer for this. But the funny answer for KILL THE ROCKSTAR—as we would be going through the different demos and be like, “Track three is done. Track five is done. Track two is mixed, but it's not mastered. Track one is 60% produced,” I would have a constantly evolving playlist, and I would listen to it all the time. Late at night, when I should be sleeping, I’d have headphones in like, “What can I change?” or “Do these tracks make sense in this order?” and definitely to an exhaustive amount. When the EP came out the other day, I was cooking dinner. I put it through my phone's speaker and listened to it on Spotify for the first time. I wasn't expecting to feel any type of way, but I was like, “Oh, that was really cool. I did that, and it feels good.”
If your EP were translated into movie form, what actor would you want to portray the narrative?
Oh my god. I'm a big fan of Tim Robinson and I Think You Should Leave. I think that'd be funny, especially because my music's pretty serious. I'm a joke-around kind of guy, but my music is more, you know, not joke around. I think that'd be funny as hell to see someone like Tim Robinson, or like Eric Andre. Some real idiot, in a good way.
