Summer Thursdays with Mutual Benefit
Interview by Erin Holland, photography by Amitai Halberstam
Summer Thursdays 2018 celebrated musicians living and working in New York City. Organized in collaboration with PopRally, the series hosted a variety of sounds exploring the City’s expansive musical landscape.
On August 30, PopRally welcomed Mutual Benefit, the sprawling chamber folk project of songwriter Jordan Lee (@mutebenny). For nearly a decade, he has crafted highly collaborative pop experiments that blend orchestral instrumentation and ambient electronic sounds. Mutual Benefit’s Summer Thursdays performance included Jordan Lee, vocals and guitar; Johanne Swanson, vocals; Michael Clifford, guitar; Eva Goodman, violin; Noah Klein, bass; and Gabriel Birnbaum, saxophone. PopRally member Erin Holland (@erineliseholland) spoke with Jordan Lee on an East Village rooftop.
A lot of interviews have focused on your vagabond life. Previously you lived in a lot of different places, and your music was influenced by locales all over the US. Now that you’ve been a New Yorker for several years, have you found ways to shift your perspective while staying static?
Yeah, absolutely. It’s the first town where I’ve been able to feel like I’m in a different country once a week. [laughs] I had to make a playlist recently for someone, and I decided to theme it around music that I’ve heard by accident around town. There was a Colombian pop singer that I heard in a bodega next to my house, and music from Bangladesh that I heard in a taxi. It’s just really great to have all sorts of different cultures and music around to be exposed to.
I also read that you have used a field recorder in the past. Is that something you’re still doing? I’m curious to know what you’ve picked up in New York.
That’s a case where technology has made things easier, but then, because it’s easier, it’s less special or something. Before, I had a literal field recorder in my pocket all the time because phones weren’t that powerful yet. I ditched it because my phone now has a good stereo field recorder with a huge amount of space — way better than this thing I had spent a bunch of money on. But I don’t know. I pick up my phone and all of a sudden I’m checking my Instagram feed instead of recording some birds or something.
Where in New York do you go if you have a creative block?
If I have too much in my brain and I can’t sort it out, walking the Williamsburg Bridge is my favorite thing. On the Manhattan side, there’s a bodega called Punjabi Deli that is one of my favorite places to get Indian food. I really like that walk. It’s just long enough that when you get to the other side of it, you’re like, “Okay, I know what I’m doing now.”
Have you picked up any interesting sounds on the bridge?
You are convincing me that I need to do more of that again.
I thought that was one of the most interesting parts of interviews I’d read, because I do it too. I’ve been in the habit of sending audio recordings to friends. Instead of taking a video or sending a text message, I’ll just send some audio of whatever’s going on that day.
That’s such a good idea.
It’s a special thing that New York affords us. Such a crazy mix of sound.
There’s a tiny dog park that I walk through a lot, and there’s some kind of xylophone thing that sometimes the kids will be playing. I really want to get a good recording of it. I could imagine getting that into the computer and writing a composition around what a kid is playing randomly. That could be a really cool thing.
What neighborhood do you live in? Rehearse in? And where do you do everything in between?
I live in Bed-Stuy. I’ve been there for three years now. Before then, I lived at a community art space called Silent Barn. We had shows in our apartment a couple times a week, and then there were shows in the performance space every day. That definitely got to be too much for me. When I moved to Bed-Stuy, it seemed like a lot of families, and really quiet, and lots of cute dogs, and stuff like that, beautiful houses. On a Sunday morning you can walk around and the churches just sound beautiful, almost like punk rock or something.
What do you hear from the churches?
There’s one a couple blocks away that I make a point to walk by. I probably should just go in, but culturally I don’t know, maybe they could detect my devilish energy.
[laughs] They would love you. You’re a musician. So are they.
Maybe if I get exorcised or something.
[laughs]
I used to play in a church band, actually, when I was younger. I really love this moment that happens where if everyone in the room is really into it, then the song will go on longer, like maybe the spirit moves someone to continue. I love when it seems like that’s happening. The whole room is just filled with everyone completely on the same page.
Do you feel like that’s still a part of you now? Do you have moments when you’re recording or playing live that you feel something else happens?
Yeah. That’s my goal for sure. It’s definitely affected by our playing, and it’s affected by the attitude that people have when they come in.
I’ve also noticed it’s really affected by space. I have had spiritually charged shows at dive bars, but it’s rare. When we tour in Europe, we usually play in older spaces that have hundreds of years of history. I’ve noticed it’s a lot easier for everyone to get into the zone there.
How do you think the space of New York has affected your recording and live shows?
Hmm, interesting. Two opposite things have happened. One is, especially when I first moved here, I’d be playing a show in a neighborhood and think, “Man, Bob Dylan played here.” It’s hard for me to shake the feeling of how deep the history is in certain neighborhoods and venues. It’s easy for me to get carried away with that.
The opposite thing happens, too, where almost more than half the spaces I played when I first moved here are closed down now. Things move really quickly. There’s an overwhelming sense of history and newness at the same time.
What New York music era inspires you the most?
A really powerful album that I found was No New York. That was from 1978, and it was these four No Wave bands. This was curated by Brian Eno, so there’s some melody, but it’s also it’s very sporadic and . . . skronky . . . I guess would be a word.
[laughs]
There’s another era that’s fascinating to me. There was this archivist — I think he called himself an amateur anthropologist — named Harry Smith. He put together the Anthology of American Folk Music. It was all these out-of-print 78s that were thought to be useless. He realized that this was really powerful music. That’s what influenced Bob Dylan, and even Patti Smith became friends with him later.
When I think about the spirit that I’m drawn to in this town, it would be this sense of seeing value in something that other people don’t, and then fusing it into what you’re doing. That’s a really powerful spirit to me.
This is a funny question, but I’m interested: If your music was food, what would be on the plate?
At one of my concerts, a friend was in the audience. She said that there was this person in front of her who was just like, “I’d like to make him a bowl of soup.”
[laughter]
As a musician, you want people to like you or whatever, but it’s like . . . I don’t know what that feeling is.
[laughter]
Did you feel positive? Did you feel weird? I guess all you can do is just accept the bowl. Accept it.
[laughter] It’s very uncool.
I was thinking that at various points of tours, a person in the band would be getting sick, as they do on tour. We have a very special soup that we make with lots of garlic, and lots of ginger, and whole sprigs of thyme, and sage, and stuff like that. I feel spiritually connected to that soup. It’s tasty, but it’s meant to heal.
What experience do people have when they hear your music? Do you have a sense? Offering you soup is a pretty good indication there’s something healing going on.
Every couple years I have a question or an experience that I can’t solve just by thinking about it. I focus on it really hard, and I bring my friends and collaborators into it. By the end of it — takes usually two years for me to make a record — I feel like I can release something, like, release it out of me. That’s what I’m trying to do.
Sometimes people will pick up on that and say, “That helped me through something.” If it works that way, great. If other people just enjoy a pop song, that’s fine, too.
Listen
Find Mutual Benefit’s latest release, Thunder Follows the Light, on Bandcamp, Apple Music, and Spotify.
About the photography
To share the diverse nature of performers participating in Summer Thursdays this year, PopRally invited a group of talented photographers to capture the concerts. Mutual Benefit is seen through the lens of photographer Amitai Halberstam (@halberstam). He shares his impressions below:
“Photographing a musical performance is a somewhat paradoxical task, trying to convey with images what is essentially a matter of sound. And it was clear as soon as they started playing that Jordan and his band were about sound — beautiful, ethereal, melodic sound — above all. Their joyful devotion to music-making enveloped the Sculpture Garden. It was a pleasure to see — and to hear.”
About Creative New York and acknowledgements
Creative New York is a digital project from MoMA’s PopRally program. Through original words and visuals, we share the unique perspectives of the countless artists, musicians, and creatives that animate New York City’s vibrant cultural landscape.
Special thanks to Hillary Reeves, Melanie Monios, Anna Luisa Vallifuoco, and the entire Summer Thursdays team.
