Inside Julia Wolf's Diary
She answers my call from an airport in Portland, on her way to London to tour with MGK. Naturally, I ask her if she lives in Portland —
JULIA WOLF — Technically, I don’t have a home right now. We’ve been moving around because of tour, so we put all our stuff in storage in October. I just didn't want to pay rent somewhere that I wasn’t going to stay for too long.
OFFICE — I know you played a show at the Twilight house, so you do love a Pacific Northwest moment. Would you ever move there?
I can’t lie, we booked this trip to see if we could live here, but it feels like I’d be retiring if I came here. It’s too soon for me to retire.
You stay booked and busy. You were recently in the city for the Halsey show — how’d that happen?
I’ve opened for her a few times before — she just reached out. I didn’t even really ask. I’m assuming it’s because she heard “In My Rom.” She’s made a few TikToks with it, so it was cool to connect. She’s the ultimate big sister, always giving sweet advice and wanting to work and make silly Twilight videos together. It’s been very wholesome and sweet.
I can imagine this is a really big full-circle moment for you.
Yeah, there are a few videos of me covering some of her songs.
At one point, music felt impossible for you to do — how’d you get over that?
As someone who used to genuinely never speak, I was so intensely shy that even admitting to people that I wanted to do music felt very ridiculous. I couldn’t get there for the longest time, but I went to college for music composition and that helped me get out of my shell. But you realize how incredibly daunting the whole process is — just to be seen in any capacity with all the incredibly talented musicians out there. It gets pretty discouraging. And I’m, like, the queen of self-hatred. So add that into the mix, and it’s just like, “Oh my god, how do I do this?” But ultimately, you just have that need within you that overpowers all else. Like, “Well, I don’t have a plan B. I just don’t see anything else for myself. I literally just have to keep trying.”
I read that you grew up doing open mics in Queens.
Big time. I grew up on Long Island and moved to Queens after college. Pretty much every day of the week in Queens, you can find an open mic at a different bar. There’s a solid community that circulates those same places. So every day after work, I would just hop to a new one because they were all within a few-block radius. I would sing my little songs and I’d never post them because I was too afraid. I’d sing in pajamas to psych myself out and be like, “This isn’t a big deal. Just singing in front of all these people who aren’t even listening. So it’s fine.”
Did you get to visit when you were in town?
No. I thought it would make me sad because I’m just so that way about old places I’m not at anymore, so I didn’t go.
What kind of music were you making when you first started?
I was working with a producer, and we were making more chill trap vibes. It was just a sign of the times. I was younger. That’s what I was feeling at the moment.
You reference all sorts of different genres. But I found you through “In My Room,” which has a very era-specific sound, so I can only imagine that a lot of people were asking for more of that.
It's funny because “In My Room” is a bit of an older song. So when that first came out, it was just another song that I was making. And I was like, still working on new music after that.
But your newer stuff is different.
It’s a collection of everything I love and am inspired by. Because when I start doing too much of the same thing, I get the itch to abandon it. And I don’t want to abandon anything. So that’s why the album has a lot of different influences, just to keep all sides of myself happy.
It’s really reflective of what’s going on in New York and in music in general. New York is torn between trying to emulate early 2010s indie rock, while trying to figure out what’s going to happen next and hop on that before anyone else does. You also lived in LA for a minute, yeah?
Two years.
I think the fight between nostalgia and the future is a very New York / LA thing.
Because it’s so inherent with us — liking the music that we grew up on. It’s already in our blood to want to incorporate some of those things. But at the same time, I’m listening to 2hollis and going, “I want that too. Let me just try to create something that feels current while nodding to those older songs that we loved.”
And I get that in the production — you have the guitar and vocal affect that we would’ve heard in the early Twilight soundtracks, but then you have some crazy glitchy beat drop. How’d that happen?
The whole album is produced by Scro. It was just me, my manager Tanner, and Scro. We did it all in his little bedroom in Glendale. A lot of that comes from the way that we both grew up — Scro’s an incredibly talented musician. He and Tanner — they grew up loving so many genres that their knowledge is so vast. I could say anything to him, say any reference, and he’d get it. It’s just something about the three of us together — it’s the perfect little sauce.
What did you grow up on?
I was listening to all the sad girls and boys. Avril Lavigne was my first concert. I wore ties to school every day and liked Mayday Parade. I loved Third Eye Blind in high school, The Story So Far — I don’t want to say I was fully emo, but…
I think you could say fully emo.
I remember going into Hot Topic for the first time and being like, “Oh my god, these are my people.” And lyrically, that’s what I bring to the table — this sad, honest truth, that I’m living every day.
Do you consider yourself to be super online?
No.
That’s healthy.
Yeah, that’s the root of it. I’m too sensitive for it. But of course, I’m scrolling on TikTok — I haven’t been able to not do that. I’d say I’m more of a post and ghost situation. Which is good. But the internet — that’s my connection to my audience. So I never want to fully abandon that. And I think I’m less in the comment section than before, just to avoid potentiallyl seeing something mean. But I am always trying to post and show, “Hey guys, I’m here with you.” Get some personality moments.
You write music that ages itself and proves it’s very modern — you have a song literally called “FYP,” you write about scrolling and liking pictures, but it doesn’t feel forced or pandering in the way that most social media music does.
I appreciate that so much. I feel like, in the way that you can immediately sense when something feels corny, I also have that sense. I get the ick so fast for so many things, unfortunately. But it does help me. The only thing that makes the writing somewhat not bad is just being fully honest and not trying so hard to come off poetic. I love a good metaphor, but I’m never going to try and force something. I’d rather just say the blunt thing. It doesn’t need to be profound. And music that speaks with those buzzwords, it kills me just as much as you.
I think to be a good artist is to have a level of discernment. I think you do have to cringe at yourself when it’s necessary.
My biggest fear is that people think that I think I’m this big thing when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s just as important to continue to be inspired by others and see how incredible people are outside of yourself. That’s why I feel pushed to keep creating and building on my last thing. I can only hope to say something new that resonates with everyone. I’m never going to feel like, “Oh, I did it,” because then I’d get kind of stuck.
You were emo adjacent, did you grow up writing?
No, I was too afraid to keep a diary in case someone found it.
And now the world is reading your diary in album form.
Literally. I did start writing songs in high school, if that counts. Lyrics always come first for me.
I’ve heard a lot of people who started off as poets and then got into songwriting, and they say that the lyrics are the hardest part because songwriting is about simplicity. And if you’re a poet, you’re always trying to prove how smart you are.
I really do believe that simplicity is the key, especially when it comes to who I love and who I think is profound. They’re saying the biggest thing in the simplest way. And that’s how you connect with everyone on such a huge level.
An hour before our interview was scheduled, you posted, “New music coming soon.”
Yes. It’s time. I was just in the studio with Kellen Quinn.
Oh my god. How’d that happen?
He’s so chill and lives in Medford, Oregon. And I was like, “Let me just shoot my shot.” And he freaking flew to us that day and then left that night. And my god, he’s such a pro. It’s so awesome to work with someone who knows what they’re doing. Like, he left the room, went into a corner, and just wrote a little verse. His voice is insane. It was insane. With the new music, I’m striving to have more of that emo energy of the early 2000s, and his voice is just so immediate in what it brings. It’s so awesome. I was smiling the whole time.
You have this lyric, “I hired someone to hurt you.” Have you ever hired an Etsy witch?
Of course! But nothing is as good as just doing it yourself.
What are your go-to’s?
The first of the months you’re always supposed to blow cinnamon through your doorway — an easy thing for abundance and luck. I love doing little candle magic, writing wishes on bay leaves, which are huge in getting manifestations across. But I hired the Etsy witch while I was on tour and didn’t have my stuff, I asked for two spells — one was for protection and the other was to help creativity and get me out of my writers block. It was a real last resort. I don’t know if any of them did anything. I mean, I’m not in a creative rut right now, so maybe it caught up months later.
I gotta get on that wave once my money comes in.
I’ll send you my recommendations.
