- Jordan White discusses more personal subject matter in his most in depth interview given to date. By Josh Kreger, staff writer of The Stroud Courier -
He walked into the busy downtown coffee shop wearing the face of Charles Manson on his black t-shirt. He noticed me staring, then laughed and simply said, "I like to see the reactions I get from it. It's a joke really, but the other day my mom said it's disgusting." When Jordan White sat down at the tidy, square table, he looked as pleasant as the first time I interviewed him, but within a few sentences it was obvious that he had a purpose for being there surpassing the reasons for past interviews. He became serious.
"I didn't want this to be another mundane discussion about my musical influences, or what venues I will be playing at…" he said as he opened his bottled iced tea, and pulled a piece of gum out of his black leather jacket. "I think a lot of that has been covered before, I'd rather go a bit deeper into some of the things that have led me here." What followed was an emotional discussion about life, love, and betrayal, and a bit of the dark side of rock 'n roll. These are the things which many artists draw their strength from. This is Jordan White unrestricted.
White's story begins at an early age, when he says he showed an extreme interest in music. I was a bit unsure as to how to begin his story, so I made a reference to one of his songs, a memorable little tune I had been listening to on the way to our interview. The song, titled 'Where To Begin'- is a heart breaking acoustic number reminiscent of 'More Than Words' by the 1990's rock group Extreme. "It was the first song that a lot of people really liked," he told me. He explained that later, many of his songs would be written to follow the same theme as 'Where to Begin.'
"In 'Where To Begin' there's this internal struggle to accept the difference between what you want and what you can never have. There's also a theme of isolation and trying to pick yourself up from it. Man, I can still remember the exact place I wrote it too. You see every summer we would rent a beach house down the shore in Wildwood, New Jersey, and this one beautiful night at like 2 A.M. I was sitting out on the front patio alone, strumming my acoustic guitar, looking up at the sky and the song just came together right there. I knew I had something special after I played it through for the first time. It was totally silent outside, except you could hear the waves hitting the shore if you listened really hard. At that point I was feeling pretty low because of things that were happening in my personal life, so I sort of went out there to escape from it, and although I think that can help you, at least for a little while, soon the vacation will be over and you'll be going home. That's where the final lines in the song come from: "the morning sun it dries up the ocean / it burns like the salt in the waves / the tourists are all stirring / they are counting their days." In a way it's about how so many things, whether good or bad, are only temporary and how we have no choice but to pick up the pieces and start all over again, because that's where the drudgery lies, you know, having to explain yourself all over again to someone new, and in the song I'm kind of asking myself if I even have the strength to do it. I knew while I was writing this that some rough times were ahead." White's mood then lightenend considerably, and then he laughed and said, "what's kind of funny is, I scribbled 'can you tell me where to begin' [a line in the song] about 10 years ago sitting in study hall in high school on my notebook." High School, a good topic since everyone has been there and has unique opinions about it. So I asked White about his general experience.
"My high school? Man, it was a lot of bullshit. Not to say that all high schools aren't. Everybody picked favorites. My high school was known nationally for it's wrestling program, and if you were on the team you had an easier time passing your classes. I played baseball until 9th grade, but after that it became no fun and all pressure. I could hit pretty well, but I wasn't very good in the outfield. I'd miss a ball and look over and the coaches would be rolling their eyes, parents would be swearing, it just wasn't fun anymore like it was when I was younger, so I quit." White went further into detail, describing a teenage world filled with the all too familiar scenes of popularity, and the inevitable persecution and competition which it bred.
"I had my good friends, some of those guys I still talk to today. I can't speak for them personally, but I don't think we really ever belonged to any specific group, because we were made up from all different ones. I was generally a polite, semi-private kind of guy, I had a few girlfriends, nothing serious, but I didn't go to my senior prom.." I stopped him in mid-sentence. "Why didn't you go?" I asked. White interlocked his fingers, "Oh, I don't know why, a couple girls asked me to go with them but I turned them down. I just had no interest at all in being there. Once in awhile I'll tell someone that, and they always ask me if I regret not going. I haven't decided." White sipped his drink for a moment and stated bluntly, almost disturbingly, "Something felt very wrong about that place. You know all the recent media attention about teachers sleeping with their students? That shit was going on in my high school 10 years ago before any of it was talked about. It was well known who and who did what. In that place, I just did my best to get through the each day. I remember looking up at the clock during a three hour study hall and thinking to myself 'I'm not going to make it! I got to get outta here.' What got me through was a form of escapism through writing."
Continuing, White went on to describe his sympathy for those who endured the stratification that goes on in the public school system and how certain students tend to be pushed into isolation. "There were some kids that people really hated. They were the guys who wore the makeup and all the black clothes and stood out. They were actively disliked by the majority. I imagine it was really difficult for them, walking into a building every day and having really no choice but to lower your head and take it."
After high school, similar feelings followed White, a general uneasiness, he says, until the day when he discovered that music wasn't just his hobby; it was his true calling in life. I asked White about his music, and specifically about what he's trying to convey in it. He leaned back against the back of his chair and thought for several seconds.
"That's a good question. I want it to be something which people can relate to, I want listeners to connect with it. I've had fans tell me how much they've been able to relate to the lyrics and that really makes it worthwhile. That's what I'm trying to accomplish." He paused again for another sip of his iced tea, "I love trying to transform a situation into a sound and melody. I want people from all backgrounds to get it." I asked White if songs with more specific lyrics are more difficult for his audience to relate to.
"Actually it seems that the more specific they are the stronger responses I get back from people." He looked away for a moment to think then returned to the conversation with a smile, "You know, sitting there on my bed at 2 a.m. writing these songs that someone may be listening to in the future, that is my belonging, that's what I want. A relationship with someone I've never met through the process of listening to the music."
I asked White what other issues had bred such an intense frame of mind, because certainly there was something much deeper than just high school isolation.
"Well, when I was twenty-one years old my parents began the process of a divorce, and for me it was like a rug pulled out from underneath my feet. The world was suddenly totally different. It changed my outlook on life, because I realized from that point on that no matter how much love you think is there, no matter how secure something feels, even the seemingly most stable things can be turned upside down. I understand now that many things in life are only temporary." We would discuss such things in more detail a bit later.
I interjected, "It's hard not having something positive and concrete in life." He looked down for a moment.
"Yea, I know that pretty well. I felt the worst for my youngest brother though, he was a little kid and I know how it must have affected him. I actually have an unreleased song called 'Messed Up Kid' which was me trying to see things from his point of view." I sensed anger in him, so I asked if he still felt bitter about the situation. "Oh for awhile I was pretty pissed off, walked around feeling pretty shitty about things. But it's not like I blame anyone for what happened. I adjusted."
I questioned him again, "So you wrote 'Messed Up Kid' from another person's perspective. Is that something you do often?" He replied, "You know actually I try to keep a universal perspective in my life. I try to listen to both sides of any issue or idea. For instance, from doing so, I've found out I identify more with females. I find the traits of feminism more appealing, you know things like compassion, communication, and appreciation of beauty. I don't know why. But then there's the part of me that loves sports and working on cars. I love chicken wings and beer. Politically, I agree and disagree with both parties, so I'm a registered independent. I guess I'm just a mix. But I do know for sure that I never understood the tough-guy approach, you know the I'll kick your ass attitude if you look at me the wrong way type."
"So does that mean you've never been in a fight?" I asked.
He grinned slightly, "Funny you asked, look over there." He pointed a finger toward a rather large buzzed-cut young man reading the newspaper behind a nice black eye a few tables over. "I was in a few, but the main one was back in my senior year of high school. My friends and were playing football and I sacked the quarterback of the other team, you know, nothing out of the ordinary. As I was getting up, the guy got up and attacked me, totally out of the blue. But he didn't know I'd been taking boxing lessons for three years at that point so I knocked him around pretty good. Then as he was on the ground one of his friends ran towards me and I got sucker punched to the back of my head. Never saw it coming, and this guy was like, 6'2" and probably 250 pounds, it was a pretty weak thing to do for such a big guy." White was obviously referring to his own conservative frame. "Back then some of those things seemed like such a big deal, and now I look back at most of it and laugh."
He appeared as if he was becoming annoyed with himself and began looking around the room as if to get his mind off of our topic, so I put down my pen and changed the subject. "Let's talk about the relationships that have inspired some of your music," I said. His change in demeanor was immediate.
"Well to be honest a lot of my songs stem from one traumatic time period." White slid his hand along the wooden table and sighed. "It was about five years ago. It was one of those relationships that just happened out of no where, you don't see it coming, it takes you off guard and then it's gone and your left sitting there thinking 'what the hell was that?' And if I told you where we first met you'd never believe me."
My next question was inevitable. "Well, where?" I asked and he began to laugh. "I'm sorry I just can't say, just know it was somewhere unexpected."
"Ok, but can you explain why you say it was traumatic?" I asked. His smiled faded and he took on a more serious tone. "Sure. Basically we had only been together less than a year but it felt real, it felt very real. Maybe I was naïve at the time but I really thought that she was the one I wanted."
White paused as if he lost his place, but then returned. "And then one day, she was just gone. Totally out of the blue. I had no idea why, because she wouldn't return phone calls. I guess that was her way of dealing with it, you know, trying to protect herself from the pain by dissapearing. But I was totally in the dark and kept asking myself why I didn't see it coming." White waited another moment and said, "Even to this day, I still draw inspiration from that time period in my life. It still messes me up, because I find it hard to trust people for very long. Back when that happened everyone was like 'you'll find someone else' - 'it's her loss' and 'it's a scar that will heal' - you know, the usual things they say. They were right in the end, but the thing is, some scars don't ever totally heal, they just fade and a little mark is left. And there's more to the story, because about 5 years later her and I got back together for a few months, and she pulled the exact same shit." He shook his head in disdain. "But this time I was ready for it. You know thats the sum of life right now, people leaving, me leaving, days flying by.. the thing is, she's really talented, an excellent singer. So I did my best for her, setting her up with agents and I even got her on a local radio show. We would rehearse for hours; I'd sit under the piano and she'd sing. But she's the type that if a record label doesn't come knocking on her door within a day she'll give up, and you can't have that attitude in this type of work."
"So you've learned a lot from all of this," I said. He replied, "Well I tried getting out of it early and and I lost my nerve. I was just trying to protect myself and I didn't want to be in that situation again, but somehow she convinced me that she had changed. Now I'm not sitting here saying I was the perfect guy or anything, I made some mistakes, but at least I was willing to put some fucking effort into fixing things, because you get out of it what you put in it right? These are some of the general ideas in some of my newer songs like 'No Promises.' They're about how people just stop talking, and how the only thing you can be sure about some of them is that the second it gets difficult they'll walk away. I probably have one more song left in me about it and then I'm done. There just comes the point where all the creativity in a situation has been tapped and I've reached it. There are more fullfilling things to write about than another song trying to figure someone else out; it's a lost cause."
I spoke up, " And you felt guilty too?" White replied, "Well, see I have ended things with others because I couldn't give the stability they needed. I realize I chose a life outside the norm, and for some people it's too much to deal with. One girl and I broke up because I didn't have a 9-5 job like her other boyfriends. I was in front of people playing music instead. But I told her, I've told them all, that this is what I do and it's who I am and I can't change that."
I asked White if there had been more hardships in his past which had influenced his character and music. He took another deep breath, "Well, when I think of the word betrayal, one event does come to mind, in fact this was pretty much the worst of the worst. When I was about 20 years old I found out my best friend had slept with my girlfriend at the time. [note: not the same girl referred to above] Man, that is another thing that still haunts me, it was so fucked up. I eventually forgave the guy and was even an usher at his wedding a couple years ago. 'Forgive but don't forget' is what my mom told me to do way back then."
At this point, White again looked obviously troubled by our subject matter. He began fidgeting with the cap on his iced tea and nervously counted the cigarettes in his pack of Newports. I knew it was time to change subjects again. "So a lot of artists, whether it be music, theatre or visual have certain quirks in their personalities. Do you as well?"
He looked at me then laughed for a moment. "I think that I have a mild form of obsessive compulsive disorder. I have a tendency to do certain things in sequences of even numbers, like setting the volume on the CD player in my car to level 12 or 14 or something. If it's not on an even number it feels like something bad is going to happen."
I furthered the point, "You studied psychology, do you think that your desire for control of your life has fostered this need to control these things from day to day?" White replied, "Yeah I can agree with that. I sort of think that people who are more intelligent or who think more will be plagued with more problems. From the people in my life, it seems the more you know the less happy you are, you know the whole 'ignorance is bliss' thing, really is true. I'm not saying I have these little problems because I'm a genius or anything, I mean I can write pretty well, but I'm a lost cause in math. In my college placement tests I think I scored in the 98 percentile in English and like, below 40 in mathematics. My control of numbers ends at turning the television to channel ten and the volume to level eight before I leave my bedroom." We both laughed.
"Alright let's get away from all of these unpleasant memories and talk about something more stereotypical of your profession. Let's talk about the view an outsider may have in regards to your lifestyle," I suggested. He looked back at me unsure if I was serious or not, and he said nothing. So I continued, "others have said that once you have used drugs, it gives you a firm basis for true understanding of one's perception. Many musicians use drugs to help increase their talent and probably for a variety of other reasons. Have you found this to be true for you?"
White looked me in the eye for just a moment, then he slowly turned his head to the side. He appeared to be slightly uncomfortable. "For some reason I knew this topic was coming," he said jokingly. "Well I mean I'll never get specific and say what I have and haven't done," he continued, "I'd rather not dig that hole. But I will say that I've experimented, but when you think about it it really isn't all that different from college. I've seen more shit going on in college dorm rooms than I've seen backstage after shows. It's kind of funny in a way, people think we go back there and either sleep with a bunch of groupies or do drugs or both. If you've always thought that, then I'm going to disappoint you now; because most of the time we sit around drinking bottled water talking about that night's show and arguing about where to go after. There's so many people at these shows sometimes, that trouble can find you even if you're keeping to yourself. It's all such an irony for me, because I'm not that type of guy. Honestly, I hadn't even had a beer or tried marijuana until I was 19. The first time I did it one of my friends had some and brought it over to the house one night. It was the typical pass around the pipe thing, and when it was my turn I tried to act cool about it but in reality I was kind of scared." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Many songs are fueled by other than the sober brain."
I quickly responded, "Right, because it seems that many musicians, as well as other artists, fall into the drug-addled lifestyle, especially the ones who's careers seem to be on the rise, like yours. Have you prepared yourself for that?" White replied, "Well look, I'm not hardcore into these things by any means. I'm into middle class drugs. You know caffeine, tobacco, and alcohol." And indeed, right after White finished his sentence, he ordered a cup of coffee from the waitress with one sugar, and no cream. Just in case you were curious. He shifted his weight in his seat and leaned towards me, resting his elbows across the table. The volume of his voice considerably lowered.
"Drugs definitely inspire. But they also destroy. You have to be responsible. Does anyone really think that John Lennon was sober when he wrote the line 'I am the walrus'? What about 'Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?' That song is as out there as any song I can think of, but the thing is, it actually works. They're incredibly famous songs and always will be, and each generation actively embraces them from their own perspective. Out there somewhere right now is a 14 year old kid listening to the 'White Album' for the first time and he's loving it, and right now there's a woman in her 60's listening to the Sgt. Peppers album for the thousandth time. I'm not trying to say that the drugs made them what they were but I think they enhanced them somehow. But then there's another side to it, almost like it's out of necessity. How are you supposed to play a concert in Baltimore until 2am, and then be back at rehearsal the next morning in Philadelphia to prepare for your show that day somewhere in Connecticut? Getting no sleep at all? I think a lot of addictions begin that way, for function. You have these things you have to do, you need something to be able to do it, and then one day you find yourself sitting at home using for no reason." Suddenly, he sat up straight and cleared his throat. "I have seen people fall into the trap of addiction and it's pretty messed up. When someone feels there's no way out, I guess sometimes it's easier to just spiral down."
With time running out I decided to wrap things up and asked my final question. "With all of these influences, all these painful events, what's the single most important thing you want to say about your music?" White replied, "I want to make people think, to see things in a different light. I want listeners to understand that we're in this together and we all have these pains and we can get through them. For me, writing songs is like a form of therapy. Maybe if I could stop I would, but probably not. When I get my burst of creative energy, that really keeps me going. It's a strange way to live, but I wouldn't have it any other way."
- Josh Kreger