A few years ago the indie singer-songwriter Julia Jacklin stopped using the term “imposter syndrome”, which is to say the feeling that your success isn’t deserved, or legitimate. In music, Jacklin noted, it was only ever applied to women artists.
“I have a problem with imposter syndrome. I used to say it all the time. But then I was, like, ‘No, historically, these have always been male spaces,’” she says over video link from her home in Melbourne. “There are endless accounts of women entering these spaces and feeling unsafe and unsupported. And highly criticised. We criticise female musicians for things we don’t even notice in male musicians.”
Jacklin, who releases her smart, earnest third album, Pre Pleasure, on Friday, says it is entirely understandable many women would feel out of place in the industry. They aren’t “imposters”. The issue lies with a music scene she has found to be far harsher and more dismissive towards women than men. And that’s before you factor in the endless spigot of judgement and misogyny that is social media.
“It’s terrifying because it’s also connected to the internet. You are getting criticised after a gig by someone. But it’s not just that. It’s also all across the web. Now I never use the phrase. No, it’s not imposter syndrome. I am reacting to the environment. I’m not the problem.”
An Irish businessman in Singapore: ‘You’ll get a year in jail if you are in a drunken brawl, so people don’t step out of line’
Protestants in Ireland: ‘We’ve gone after the young generations. We’ve listened and changed how we do things’
Is this the final chapter for Books at One as Dublin and Cork shops close?
In Dallas, X marks the mundane spot that became an inflection point of US history
There is, understandably, an edge to her voice as she says this. Yet Jacklin is otherwise upbeat — and with good reason. She is about to return with perhaps her finest record to date. It is certainly her most thought-provoking. “Pre Pleasure” refers to what Jacklin describes as a “need to do all the work before I can enjoy my life — whether that’s work on songs or sex, friendships, or my relationship with my family”.
These were conclusions about herself she reached during the lockdown, as she decompressed after years on the road. “My usual job was touring all the time. I hadn’t stopped touring from when I was 25,” says Jacklin (who is now 31). “I didn’t even know how to cook. There were a lot of adult skills that I was missing. I had time to think. A lot of space, a lot of time.”
Not that Jacklin needed a pandemic to dredge her soul. She has for the past six years attracted both a cult audience and critical acclaim with songs that blend the jangling intensity of garage rock and the storytelling ache of country music. Don’t Let The Kids Win, her 2016 debut, was praised by one critic as “one of those albums that will slowly creep into the affections of a large number of people; it’s that lovely”. In 2019, her second LP, Crushing, was hailed by Rolling Stone for its “sweet indie-pop with folk introspection and delicate piano balladry”.
It was also in 2019 that she discovered she had a fan in Lana Del Rey, who reached out and invited Jacklin to join her in Denver (more of which below). Three years later, with Pre Pleasure, Jacklin has continued to push on as a writer and has made perhaps her most fully realised work yet. And with her largest ever tour kicking off at Vicar Street in Dublin on November 3rd, the sense is she is bound for the big time.
Jacklin’s first reaction was that it was a wind-up. She replied, anyway, on the off-chance the message was real
Of course, the big time can mean weird times, too. This she discovered when Del Rey contacted Jacklin over Instagram when the Australian was in the middle of an exhausting north American tour. Jacklin, who’d been out celebrating a successful gig, was in the back of a taxi back to her hotel when her phone pinged. It was the Video Games star, who wondered if Jacklin might like to travel to Colorado and guest at her show.
Jacklin’s first reaction was that it was a wind-up. She replied, anyway, on the off-chance the message was real. It turned out that, yes; it was Del Rey. Two nights later, they were on stage together singing Jacklin’s ballad, Don’t Know How To Keep Loving You.
“I was honestly pretty scared of her fan base. It’s the kind of fan base where the artist can literally be doing nothing on stage — and they would just be loving it. It’s kind of a worship thing. However, they were really, really respectful. I played two songs. And I was like, ‘I don’t know if these people want to hear two songs from some random singer-songwriter from Australia they’ve never heard of’. They were super quiet and respectful.”
She admires Lana Del Rey and her music. Still, Jacklin would not wish to swap places with an artist who exists at the apex of so-called “Stan” culture, where your audience invests not simply in your art but your persona — to an extent that can feel obsessive, if not creepy.
“Sometimes those fan bases can be amazing. They can be toxic as fuck as well. At least when I played, everyone was super quiet. It wasn’t like they talked throughout my entire set, which is what I expected.”
Pre Pleasure contains some of Jacklin’s smartest, most transportive writing. When she puts her foot on the pedal, the record has a bittersweet folk zing suggestive of Christine McVie-vintage Fleetwood Mac, with a spritzing of Jeff Buckley. It’s a knockout — albeit one that may well send you away reeling and emotionally bruised.
Irish listeners will, in particular, want to take a moment with the first song, Lydia Wears A Cross. Here Jacklin unpacks her fascination with the iconography of Catholicism.
She was raised as an atheist in a lower middle-class suburb of Sydney, the daughter of teacher parents (her mother lectures in Japanese). But she attended the local Catholic school and was required to go to Mass once a week. In her early teens, she also became a huge fan of Jesus Christ Superstar — a happy-clappy odyssey distant from, yet connected, to the theatre of Christian worship.
The ceremonial aspect of Catholicism was enormously attractive to Jacklin as a child and still speaks to her today, as the song testifies. “I’d be a believer, if it was all just and dance,” she sings over a mournful soft rock arrangement. “I’d be a believer if I thought we had a chance.”
“I was not raised Catholic. I just went to Catholic school. Reflecting on it as an adult — Catholicism, it’s not part of my life. But I spent my formative years absorbing that entire religion. All the pageantry.”
Mass shaped her outlook on the world and, at some level, continues to do so.
“Going to Mass every week, while your brain is still developing and you’re absorbing all these ideas … And while you’re forming your idea about the world: right from wrong and all that stuff. I enjoyed writing a song for my eight-year-old self. That’s not a time I’ve unpacked.”
Jacklin moved to Melbourne several years ago and finds its DIY music circuit agrees better than the scene in Sydney
Jacklin moved to Melbourne several years ago and finds its DIY music circuit agrees better than the scene in Sydney, a more corporate city where soaring rents leave little room for grassroots artists (remind you of anywhere?). By coincidence, we are speaking as Melbourne mourns the loss of one of its most famous daughters, Olivia Newton-John, who died aged 73 after a long struggle with cancer.
“What was nice was that I didn’t realise how much she was famous across the world,” says Jacklin. “You think of her as our scrappy Australian person. I forgot. I was so surprised how many people I follow on the internet, from all parts of life, were mourning her death. That was so sweet to see. She was a beautiful person.”
Lockdown gave Jacklin the chance to pause and reflect on where she was going, professionally and personally. But the wheels are presently revving up again. The demands of life in the spotlight were something with which she struggled around her first record. Now, a little older and wiser, and a lot more phlegmatic, she is prepared for what lies ahead as, beginning at Vicar Street in November, she brings Pre Pleasure out into the world.
“I know I am good at doing this. I am also lucky. Over the last few years, I’ve been so grateful in a way I couldn’t when I was younger because I was overwhelmed. I was always scared I wasn’t living up to whatever hype existed around me. Today, I understand this is my job. I feel a lot more settled into it.”
Pre Pleasure is released on Friday, August 26th
