Page 51 of August Lane
Emma:
Ellis Jackson? You’ve worked with him a lot.
Jojo:
I love Ellis. He gets me. His songs feel like something I would have come up with if I was one of those perfect country girls people love.
Emma:
Okay, you have to explain that.
Jojo:
Well, there are themes, you know? You’ve got to sing about going home or how you regret leaving in the first place. And it’s always some small town that sounds like something out of a movie. The way we wish small towns still were. Idyllic and slow, with cozy restaurants. Real small-town folks do a lot of riding around and drinking. That part country gets right, ’cause ain’t shit else to do on the weekend. I don’t drink, but I’ve got three tracks with whiskey in the title.
Emma:
Are you saying it’s fake? That’s interesting because there’s this constant authenticity debate, right? Kind of like hip-hop and street cred. Whose country enough to be taken seriously.
Jojo:
You’d think people obsessed with authenticity would want us to be honest when we’re singing. But no one wants to hear my version of things. My hometown is Black and dying in ways people pretend not to see. There’s no main street anymore. No farms. Just people getting by and sometimes failing. But that’s not a radio hit. I’ll never write about my life anymore.
Emma:
What about love? Or romance? Would you write about that?
Jojo:
