ISSUE #45: Jaime Wyatt On Writing Songs and the Meaning of "Outlaw"

Her latest album, 'Feel Good', is an aptly titled one :)

Jaime Wyatt’s got stories, and we barely scratched the surface when the singer-songwriter joined us on Zoom a couple weeks back — she’s consistently and remarkably candid when it comes to any number of juicy topics including but not limited to her struggles with addiction, her sexuality, her experiences in the criminal justice system, and most importantly, of course, her music. She just released her third album, Feel Good, late last year, and it’s a stellar, soulful country romp with songs that will make you feel and make you think and (often) both at the same time.

She joined the official DRTI Zoom room to tell us more about it, but also just to get into her process and philosophy as an artist in general — and also for a little extracurricular discussion of growing up in Washington. You might not find a more granular and compelling description of songwriting as process than the one she offers below; to honor that candor, I feel compelled to point out one of my favorites off her second album Neon Cross. “I ain’t afraid of dyin’ honey, I’m just scared of this L I V I N — oh, it never ends,” she sings on “L I V I N” — perhaps my personal pinnacle of modern-day honky-tonk writing! — NW

This interview is an edited except of the full conversation; paying subscribers can listen to it in its entirety here.

Most importantly, how are you feeling? I know you've had to cancel some shows (including one in Dallas! :( ) recently.

It's healing up well. It's not 100% — I don't know what this virus was that I caught, but it was crazy. Touring in the winter, stuff like that is always gonna happen. But thankfully, I'm home resting and it's getting better. I don't have to have surgery on my vocal cords, and my doctor also told me that I didn't have nodes from overuse. It was actually a cyst from a virus, which is gross and horrifying. It's going away, but I still have to do a lot of therapy. All the therapies [laughs].

Your last album was produced by Shooter Jennings, and this one has a pretty different sound and vibe, and was produced by the Black Pumas' Adrian Quesada — what made you want to work with him?

I heard a lot more rhythm and blues underneath this batch of songs, in the grooves. I was kind of getting into that with Neon Cross; that [title track] in particular was adapted from a four on the floor beat — I turned it into a gallop, but I have been in love with the four on the floor beat since I was a child. That's kind of where I work from when I'm writing a lot, especially if I'm trying to write things that are kind of anthemic or have that urgency. Soul music has really carried the four on the floor beat to the finish line. I mean, it's some of the best songs ever written, some of the biggest hits. I knew that I would need someone that could understand that in studio and help me communicate that to the musicians. There were songs where I was like, "I wonder if there's an even more sophisticated approach to this." So that's what I was looking for. When I found Adrian, it was clear to me he would be able to do that — if he would take the project. I wasn't sure if he'd take the project, like this shit's so country! But he was his game, and I'm really glad he took that chance. 

What is your songwriting process like?

It can start with a lyric where I'm like, "Oh, that's cool," and then I kind of like work it in my mind, thinking about those syllables and figuring out what kind of emotion it is. I sing that through either in my head or out loud, and then I go to an instrument. That's like, my main process. But what I've been expanding on is starting with the instrument. A lot of the songs on this record were written on piano — like with "Where The Damned Only Go," I started with the piano chords. I've played guitar since I was five years old, it's natural for me to play guitar, but I'm always challenging myself — sometimes, it can be limiting, to just be strumming chords. 

Oftentimes, I'll get ideas down in segments, and then I put them in a loop that I'll play for myself every day. If I just have snippets, I might remember like, "Oh, I have this note in my journal that would be perfect, I gotta go find it." Songs are like puzzles, and I can grab pieces from my notebooks and my voice memos too. It's got to stay exciting. My filter is usually like, an emotional meter seeing if it's good, and if it's worth still working on. Is it memorable? Is it emotional? Is this something that people need to hear? 

You're a queer person in Nashville, you were named after Wyatt Earp, and, like, you have actually been to prison. How do you feel about the way people use the term "outlaw" in country music?

I mean, yeah, it's a little silly when some people are like, I'm so outlaw, I'm so badass. But my experience was like that I'm a bad criminal, and that's why I got caught. I'm not hard. That's why I don't do it anymore. It's theater at some point, so I'm like, That's cool. We're all embodying different characters — even if I'm like, "for real" outlaw, I'm still embodying different characters in songs and on stage and it's all for fun. So, you can call yourself whatever you want. Maybe I have learned that by being a queer person — that I'm less concerned with what other people are calling themselves because I'm more okay with and more understanding that we all want to be heard and seen, and we try on different things to figure it out.

You do such a nice job of marrying the personal and the political in your songwriting — can you speak a little bit about why that's important to you?

I can't not talk about things that are really hurting me and bothering me that happen societally — and that are maybe just America-specific. I can't help but be moved, and be sometimes enraged by injustice and people being oppressed or unfairly marginalized. My favorite writers have always written about society, and I feel like if I didn't write about it, I wouldn't be a part of society. I feel like that's the job of writers. I just can't help but be drawn to other people's stories besides my own. It's just hard to make sense of some of this stuff, right? That's the other thing, songs are a way to write about it sometimes just observationally with just a little bias, a little opinion. These albums are pictures of where I'm at, and where we're at in time. I'm trying to time-capsule my life, and my life in relation to society.

I mean "Fugitive" is basically about police brutality, which is not a topic that is…super super widely discussed in the Americana space right now. Have you faced any backlash in general for singing and speaking about social injustice?

Plenty — I mean more backlash about my sexuality, then the song "Fugitive" on the record. I occasionally will glance in the audience when I'm singing that song, just to see. Because I'm a little fearful sometimes. I mean, shit. It might not work out for me well, putting those songs out in the world, but I don't really have a choice. It's just gotta be. It was such a like, strong song, and I'm really proud of the way the song was written. I'm really proud of the lyrics. It's simple enough to understand and sing along to. It's hard for me to imagine anyone that doesn't see police brutality... I don't even know what to say to that. But I mean, God bless.

Because I have some personal experience in the criminal justice system. I physically have been in custody. Seeing that I was like, one of the only white-presenting people there...that's telling. It's telling that they all came from a specific neighborhood, it's telling that they were always paroled to that specific neighborhood and then were back. In recovery, they say that alcoholism and addiction is not a moral dilemma, and I believe that about breaking the law. It may momentarily have been, but that's often the result of a cumulative situation. It's way too convenient to just condemn people and put them away. It's too simple, and it's not working. Incarcerating people doesn't reduce crime. There are studies done showing when you put humans together, and you give them two different uniforms that clearly reveal a hierarchy, you're gonna have abuse of power. I have personal connections to this stuff. I've seen it, and it speaks to me.