Start Listening To: Jordan Patterson

On Songs From A Valley Girl, the San Fernando Valley songwriter embraces longing, contradiction and the sounds that shaped her upbringing.

Following the release of Songs From A Valley Girl, the first project released through Secretly Canadian, we caught up with the Los Angeles artist to discuss stepping out from the introspection of The Hermit, collaborating with new producers, and the strange push and pull between shame and love that runs through the EP. Along the way, she reflects on growing up in the San Fernando Valley, touring with Searows, and why early Lily Allen, Corinne Bailey Rae and Peter Gabriel remain close to her heart.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

I was raised in the San Fernando Valley by way of the south. Soul music is my heart and I don’t think I knew other music existed until for a long time. All of my music stems from there and then sort of blossoms through the music on the radio in the mid 2010s and then collapses onto experimental, folk, and rock music I started listening to as a teen.

Songs From A Valley Girl is your first release with Secretly Canadian. Did joining the label change anything about how you approached this EP, or did you deliberately keep the process the same?

The only thing that changed was the format. I’ve pretty much only made records, 30 minute projects at the minimum and with the intention of creating a linear narrative to, but not exclusively, sit, walk or dance to. The process was pretty much the same, except more concise.

You've described this collection as being smaller in scope but more concentrated in feeling. What was it about these songs that made them feel separate from The Hermit?

They’re so much more fun. I experience my last project as quiet idle, but not in a negative way. There are songs on there that definitely have made me dance and it was all an exploration, but the EP is more of a jog. It has real motion outside of one setting. The Hermit was like my house, the view from it and all the things residing, but the EP is like all of that plus the whole valley and LA. I’m outside now.

'Just My Friend' captures that awkward space between friendship and something more. Was it difficult to be so direct with a song that essentially revolves around one simple question?

It’s so embarrassing and so funny to me. Everyone always loved and really took to that song and I just thought of how I could never release it. The whole song felt too easy, or more so, too real, like it was meant for the girls, not the world. It was like I'd been found out, but I did it to myself!

The refrain "Do you wanna be just my friend? feels playful and devastating at the same time. Do you find yourself drawn to writing about emotional contradictions?

Everything is a contradiction, at least it is in my life!

You grew up in the San Fernando Valley, and this EP feels deeply tied to that place. Was revisiting those memories helpful, uncomfortable, or a bit of both?

Any memory is helpful for me because I’m so forgetful. The valley is my love but also an enemy draped in a cloak.

You've spoken about the tension between shame and love running throughout the record. When did you realise those ideas were connecting the songs together?

So many of my songs that I wrote during this time are about that. It became more about curation and how this feeling emerges, how it lives and how it affects most of my interactions. It was very apparent and it was mostly just about distilling it to its most interesting, most contradictory parts.

The Hermit was such a solitary and introspective record. Do you feel like Songs From A Valley Girl reveals a different side of you as a songwriter?

Totally, but also no. I think I just surrendered lyrically and sonically to the music that I really love most or at least at the time which were these feelings of longing and desire and accepting that as well as early Lily Allen and Corinne Bailey Rae as my mother's in a way.

The EP was made with a number of collaborators, including Eric Van Thyne, John Debold and Henry Kwapis. What did those partnerships allow you to do that you might not have done on your own?

Well Eric just gets me. He helped me tie a lot of these songs together. Henry coming in felt really easy. John and I became good friends before we really got into the weeds and he's so lovely to work with and that made the studio a really fun and welcoming environment even though it was a new space for me. Most of the time when I'm working alone, the energy is quite serious or just bombastic but working with all these new collaborators blended the two feelings into pure joy.

You've shared stages with artists like Cameron Winter, Folk Bitch Trio and Jens Lekman, and recently toured with Searows. Have there been any artists you've learned particularly valuable lessons from on the road?

Touring with Alec was really lovely because, and this might not be at all what was going on in his head, but he brought a lovely peace to every room and I would say the same about everybody. Also, the camaraderie really brought a lightness. I've been really grateful because doing bigger shows and playing bigger rooms, but reminding myself to still carry that same attitude.

Songs like 'Cinderella', 'Last' and 'Win You' all seem to approach relationships from slightly different angles. Did the tracklisting come together naturally, or was sequencing the EP an important part of telling the story?

It took some time. I have so much music, so certain songs would come in and out but the final tracklist felt like the most concise way to tell the story of this project.

Songs From A Valley Girl feels like a snapshot of a particular place and period in your life. When you look beyond this EP, do you already have a sense of where the next chapter might take you?

Absolutely. There's some really awesome shit on the way.

What do you love right now?

I love smoothies, running, screaming, dancing, my mom and Peter Gabriel really bad right now.

What do you hate right now?

War and the smell of my compost.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Epiphany by Chrisette Michele. That record changed my life, hands down. It's the best breakup record of that sort. The writing and the production is so important to me. I can't even explain it. I must've first listened to it when I was about 9 or 10 and I have revisited it multiple times a year every year since then. It's magic.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

My lyrics. I feel like a writer at heart and a singer for clarity. And the beat.