British-born recording artist Jamie Lidell has lived in Nashville since 2010, but he’s been relatively under the radar during that time. Even fans of the man behind songs like “Multiply” might not realize he calls Music City home. During his time here, he backed away from live shows and slowed down his solo releases, while staying active as a collaborator and cowriter with everyone from Hailee Steinfeld to locals like Devon Gilfillian. But starting with a recent performance at Vanderbilt and the release of his first solo record in nearly a decade, Lidell has reemerged with a new perspective and a new sound.
The throughline for Jamie Lidell’s more than 25 years as a recording artist has been his voice. The musical settings may have changed over time, but that soulful instrument remained. On his new album, Places of Unknowing, while his voice is there, it’s transformed.
There are several reasons for the musical shift. During lockdown, he learned piano for the first time which changed his songwriting approach. The album’s lyrics, written entirely by his wife, the multi-disciplinary artist Lindsey Rome, explored themes of grief and loss (hardly the subject for a funk record). And the more orchestral arrangements were by Grammy-winning Vanderbilt music professor Pascal LeBoeuf. But the overall classical tone for the album may primarily be due to pandemic playdates?
“It’s a bit of a meandering story but it really does work,” laughs Lidell, recalling the story inside his home studio in Nashville. “We met Ji Hye Jung, one of the greatest living marimba players and her husband Lee Vincent (who) used to play with the Boston Symphony. We’re talking about high level players. (They) just so happen to live right across the road. Our children play together and they played a lot more during covid. And so we spent a lot more time with them. We’d have dinners, we’d get to know each other.”
“So meeting Ji Hye, opened the doors to people in the Vanderbilt world like Molly Barth who played flute on the record,” Lidell continues. “But then Pascal (LeBoeuf) opened the door to people like Ethan Janowicz who played the bass on the record. And then my other neighbor is Rob Burger, who’s one of my favorite musicians of all time. And who just so happens to be my other nearest neighbor. All of the sudden the neighborhood community becomes viable (because of lockdown). This musical opportunity arose and it just made my brain explode thinking ‘You mean I could write for these tones? I don’t have to just write for synthesizers. I don’t have to do funk.’ I can try to stretch myself.”
The material was also born during a period of deep self-reflection after a late in life discovery of his own neurodivergence. He says having that label helped further his own inner understanding and led to reassessing his personal history and creative process.
“It makes all of those things make sense in a way,” Lidell shares. “I would say it’s more having some clarity over some of my maybe rabbit hole propensities. A lot of the things which I kind of nod my head vigorously when I’m learning about the community of which I’m very much a member (laughs) and thinking ‘Oh, well that would explain some of the darker moments.’ And how to navigate those in my memory.”
“In that way, looking at life through the lens is a little bit jarring at first,” Lidell explains. “Maybe sometimes I want to use it as a crutch and almost an excuse for the way I can be. And then I realize it’s more nuanced and it’s not just that, that defines you. It’s an ongoing thing. It’s one thing to give something a label but much like any of this stuff, it’s like opening a chapter of a very deep book and just starting to understand it more.”
Lidell hasn’t yet committed to touring or any of the other trappings of a full-time musical artist, but he hasn’t completely ruled it out. He says if he’s going to teach his son anything, especially as someone also on the autism spectrum, it’s to follow your passion, wherever that leads.