The Darwin singer-songwriter opens the doors behind Blame Game.

It’s pretty rare that you’ll hear a debut EP that is as watertight as Stevie Jean’s. Melding elements of blues, soul and RnB Jean carves a uniquely euphoric sound that sways between emotive builds and dark melodies. It’s the kind of work that many artists spend years trying to produce, making the fact that it’s her debut even more significant.

There’s an undeniable power that bleeds through Blame Game. When she sings, each word pummels you into submission, making you absorb every line that comes out of her mouth. Lyrically, the EP centres around that age where you’re just starting to forge your adult identity, preparing for the challenges ahead and figuring out what you stand for.

“This EP chronicles my high school years. Always a confusing time, the innocence of childhood peels away and the real world begins to materialise in all its harsh glory,” Jean says. “Betrayals by friends, betrayals of self and betrayals of broken systems created a great deal of emotional confusion.

“I was searching for clarity and closure which no one seemed able to give to me. So I went in alone with a pen and a guitar to seek my own answers. To unpick the West from my brain and untangle the web of accountability…to stop playing the Blame Game.”

Stevie Jean is currently on the road supporting Montaigne and there’s still plenty of East Coast shows to go (info here) be sure to get yourself along, but for now, chuck on Blame Game and check out her track-by-track below:

December Song

I wrote this in the December of 2017 and the title stuck. The vocals were recorded in a single take. I’m willing to admit to being an entire cliche in highschool. I fell in love with my best-friend who had a boyfriend. As we got older she started calling me everytime she drank. This is the ultimate “I bet you want me now I’m gone,” anthem. It’s petty and it’s triumphant. I wrote the whole song in about 20 minutes while jamming on a down tuned guitar.

Mockingbird

Mockingbird was pulled straight from a poem I wrote one night. It has a western feeling that is largely inspired by Kaleo’s album A/B. It was set to have a dramatic ballad style outro until I heard Cardi B’s single ‘Money.’ I became obsessed with the way she uses 808’s, so slow and gangsta. I sat down with my producer and homie, James Mangohig, and we reworked the song with tighter hip hop percussion. The official outro is an example of what happens when you leave the two of us in a studio unsupervised with dope samples. It was stupid fun to create.

Estranged

Estranged is a continuation of the story in Mockingbird. The former is the anger while “Estranged” is about cutting toxic habits and people. Lyrically, “Estranged” came together much more slowly than the rest of the EP. It took a long time to reach the level of acceptance this song required. I went through a few years where my life was poison. I burned many bridges and focused all my power on healing my soul. I have gratitude, compassion and love towards those years but I will never go back. In January 2018, I sat in Muscle Mothership studios with Steven Smith. We started with a Franz Ferdinand-esque dirty bassline and built the production from the bass up.

I Like You

“I Like You” was originally called “You’re O.K. I Guess.” I don’t write a lot of romantic songs. At the start of every Wet Season in my hometown the poinciana trees are so covered with red flowers that they weigh down the branches and carpet the ground. I wrote this song on a bass guitar whilst sitting under these trees. I had a very clear direction with how I wanted to produce this song from the beginning. Smith brought the Bonham with those trashy straight drums and Benjamin Edgar bought the dirty south. Mangohig and I went IN on the vocals. This song required different approaches and motivations for each section. Unlike “December Song” which was a single take, “I Like You” was detailed down to each word, each phrase. P.S. If you mute the deep sea episode of David Attenborough’s “Blue Planet” and play the intro it feels as if you are underwater.

Hell In Every Religion

I wrote this song at age 14 whilst attending an Anglican College. During one of the chapel services (attendance was enforced) I heard the Reveron preaching to us that we were all born sinners. She spoke without question, it was not a discussion. I felt small and I felt as if my very identity was under attack. Being mixed race, I was raised mixed religion. My father’s Greek Cypriot culture is Greek Orthodox and my mother’s English culture is largely rooted in Paganism. I was taught to think for myself. I was on shaky ground with my decision to come out in my home life and the environment created at school was hostile.

The Australian education system is due for a revolution. It was, and continues to be, a system that does not promote individual thinking. It teaches bias history and restricts the mind. It is still not common knowledge that the government has no treaty with the rightful owners of the land. People of colour and members of the LGTBT+ community are struck from the history books. I was feeling trapped and unrepresented, music was the only way I felt I could express myself. While I had always written poetry and played music for fun, the writing of “Hell In Every Religion” marks the day that music became my saviour and my outlet. It marks the day I committed to this path.