Jim-E Stack Makes Summer Eternal
The kitchen function gets flooded with people, so you squirt out to the living room, and “Can We” with Kacy Hill guides you into a timeless, united dance moment. The cops walk in—because it’s an LA party, remember—and the host starts shooing people out the door. You run into your crush as their friends drive up bumping “Good Enough” featuring Ant Clemons. You reach out your hand, they grab it, you both hop in, and ride out all movie-like. “Sweet Summer Sweat” with Dijon uplifts your hangover the next morning, and your hand finds your crush’s on the way to the diner with your new friends.
Now, Jim-E Stack speaks with office to share his formula for impenetrable summer music, artistic resilience, and EPHEMERA.
As a veteran live performer, how does it feel to release an album while there are no concerts?
To be honest with you, I'm relieved. When I used to tour more, there was an inherent fun in hearing my shit loud as fuck and being on stage, whether nobody was in the crowd or if it was rammed, but recently I've really found my place in the studio, making music with other people. There was a time in my life, like five years ago or so, when many of my friends were enjoying a lot of success as DJs, and of course you always compare yourself to others, and of course I did, but now that I’m here, five years later, there's a reason that didn't happen for me then, which is because ultimately it wasn't for me. Now, I actually enjoy making music way more than performing it. And obviously who knew there'd be a fucking pandemic that would just put everything on pause, but I'm like, holy shit, thank God I can still work, and it's not reliant on a huge crowd of people. It can be as self-contained as I want it to be.
It sounds like you accidentally manicured yourself into the perfect person to withstand the world and economy under a pandemic.
That’s definitely true. But it’s sad because performance is super cathartic for some of my friends. That's just how they communicate themselves to the world. But for me, that's just not it. It was never it. And I’m only discovering that now, or during the past couple of years.
Your music captures LA nightlife perfectly. But there’s no nightlife at the moment. What do you hope to do with this album?
Not a lot, because my music is completely a self indulgent practice. Actually, I think it just has become that. There was a time when I was DJing, and making music within certain artistic confines, but as I increasingly drifted away from that world, it's become this thing where I’m just making stuff that I personally want to listen to, and working with artists who I really fuck with as a fan.
You have a ton of features on EPHEMERA. Were any of them done remotely?
I don't think any of it was made remotely. This year I just put the finishing touches on it. I’ve never been like, "Hey, bro, will you, like, feature on my song." Everything came from a free-flowing dynamic, not really thinking or caring, just making music. It just happened naturally. Dijon and I worked in Burbank, the Bon Iver stuff we did in Wisconsin and Minneapolis, Octavian's stuff in London. It's really the accumulation of living my life and making music over the past couple of years, all pulled together into one project.
How has your quarantine been?
Pretty average. But it was hard for me to transition into making music remotely, because my favorite part of this whole thing is the communal and social aspect. Quarantine really made me realize how much I feed off conversation. Like here in LA, it all works very informally. I might randomly go to a friend’s studio to hang out and then we end up making something, and then this other person comes. Like I was saying, it’s a whole free-flowing thing. I feed off that energy, so not having that available to me has definitely been difficult.
How do you feel about LA compared to the other places you've lived?
Well LA is great for me because of this open music-making culture. And of course, there are hierarchies of shit, but for the most part, I've found that people are pretty open to creating together. Obviously it's our job, but it's also a form of socializing here. In New York, for example, when I was just making more electronic instrumental music, I had a ton of friends there doing shit, and we were mutual fans of one another, but there was no culture of collaboration for a social sake. That just did not exist. We’d go to a bar, but we would never make music together; whereas now, hanging out with a friend consists of going over to their house, shooting the shit, and making some shitty song that'll never see the light of day.
What impact would you like to leave on the LA music scene and pop music as a whole?
I've just learned that great art doesn't come about through any kind of goal. It happens through doing stuff freely and naturally. That's a message I want to spread and I know it's maybe not for everyone, but man, who fucking cares about a big-name feature for some shit, or how whatever is going to chart, or if you’ll get on playlists and shit.
Doing stuff you love with people you love is what’s had the biggest impact on me, and I would assume that translates with at least some other people. I also just think it's kind of like, healthy, and stuff. People should open it up and make it more about making good shit rather than opportunistic shit.
That's a great message, especially because it’s possible to calculate everything now. You can put X amount of money into TikTok placements, Y amount into targeted ads, etcetera, etcetera. I know a lot of musicians who feel like they won’t find success if they don’t play the modern marketing game, but in actuality, many of them would be happier—and make way better music, which truly gives them a better shot at a sustainable career—if they went in on having fun and creating with loved ones. I think people need to hear this and hopefully hearing it from you will hit home.
That is literally one of the biggest revelations in my little life. And I completely learned this from Justin Vernon from Bon Iver. He's never even said that explicitly, I've just observed it from working with him a lot. At this point he could give a fuck about anyone’s, like, name, or whatever. Like who fucking cares.
When I first went to work with him, it was just a group of us hanging out and doing shit. I certainly was not any kind of name, but it wasn't about that, and I realized if you approach things from a place of honesty, and purity in your intention, and just do shit to do it, not to get money or fucking recognition, you'll be more fulfilled, your music will be better, and the world will be better. That's my evangelical making-music-with-a-free-spirit pitch.
I love it. Thanks for taking the time, Jim-E, I really appreciate it.
Thank you, for caring.
