Puma Blue and Joan As Police Woman Get Vulnerable

Joan Wasser is the New York-based artist behind Joan As Police Woman; Jacob Allen is the London-born, Atlanta-based artist who performs as Puma Blue. Puma Blue’s new record, antichamber, just came out earlier this month, so to celebrate, the two got on Zoom to chat about it and much more.
— Annie Fell, Editor-in-chief, Talkhouse Music

Joan Wasser: Congratulations on your new album.

Jacob Allen: Thank you so much. And you too.

Joan: Thank you.

Jacob: When did it come out? Pretty recent, right?

Joan: I have no idea. [Laughs.] I think September? We went on tour in October, so I know it came out before then. Yours came out yesterday?

Jacob: This week at some point. I feel the same, but just in a shorter time frame. I can really relate to that time warp thing where you’re just like, I remember touring it, so it must have come out before that. But I’m, I guess, on the opposite end of it — we haven’t played it live yet. I don’t even know if it’s going to work live yet. It’s scary.

Joan: It’ll work live. You’ll make you make it work. 

Jacob: Yeah. I’m loving your album. I was just listening to some of the songs from it today, and I was just struck by your sincerity. You’ve got such an honest musicality about you. It’s so beautiful.

Joan: Thank you very much. That means a lot to me, so I really appreciate you noticing that.

Jacob: Why does that mean a lot to you? Do you feel like that’s something you’ve earned over time with maturity and experience? Or do you feel like that’s something that was kind of inherent within you from day one of being a musician?

Joan: I mean, I feel like music in general brings out what’s true in us.

Jacob: I agree.

Joan: I didn’t write lyrics for so long. I came up as a violin player. I studied classically through college, and played in a lot of different kinds of bands and really enjoyed doing that, trying to make that instrument more flexible. I sort of detest the way it’s used in a lot of today’s music, so I tried to make it into more of a rhythm instrument or a sound maker — because you can make such incredible, weird sounds that you can’t really place with that instrument. And then when I started songwriting, it was in a certain part of my life where I was really only interested in finding what was as close to the truth as I could find. Or as close to the sound of an emotion, trying to get that across. I noticed that’s what I have always loved the most about music, in all different forms and genres — that was the stuff that I loved the most, when I felt the musician or the singer or the sax player or whatever was sort of contacting something basic. I feel like music is the way that we can get as close to that as possible. So when I started writing my own songs, that’s what I’ve been searching for. And I just always try to get further and further into that place.

Jacob: Yeah. That’s really relatable. And actually, it’s interesting because I also started out not as a songwriter. I was obsessed with the drums as a child and only ever wanted to be a drummer for a long time. 

Joan: Who did you love? Who were your favorites?

Jacob: I loved Mitch Mitchell from the Hendrix Experience. I love how rambly he was. It was very like Hendrix on the guitar, very free. But not taking up too much space either — I really liked how he wasn’t just soloing over the top of Hendrix’s songwriting. Which I think he’s kind of underrated for, Hendrix. He’s a great songwriter, not just a great guitarist.

Joan: I agree.

Jacob: This is something I think you have, too. Hendrix could be so effortless with his vocals — like it kind of just drips out of his mouth. And I feel like when you sing, it’s almost as if you’re just speaking to me, the listener. 

Joan: Thank you. 

Jacob: Of course. But, yeah, Mitch Mitchell. I feel like every kid loves Ringo Starr.

Joan: Because he’s great.

Jacob: Because it’s like Drums 101. It’s exactly always what the music calls for. But then also, I was really into the Chili Peppers when I was growing up. I loved Chad Smith’s ferocity, all that funk stuff and all that rock stuff in one drummer. But I guess as much as it let off this musical expression steam for me, I could never really access that portal to expression that I heard in all the people I used to listen to as a child. So when I was 12 or 13, I picked up guitar almost out of frustration, because I couldn’t be as expressive or as authentic as I wanted to be [on drums] — and I didn’t even have those words yet. But I really relate to what you were saying. I think it’s always been a pathway to genuine outpouring of whatever is going on inside, and it was so attractive to me that the guitar could do these things that were abstract to me at the time as a drummer. Like harmony and chord progressions, I didn’t really understand them. So to get to that place where I’m a writer now, sometimes when I look back on it, it’s almost hard to believe. I’m like, How did I end up here? 

Joan: Yeah, I can really relate to that. I also picked up the guitar — I found a guitar on the street that someone was throwing out because the pegs were stuck in a certain tuning.

Jacob: What an interesting limitation for you.

Joan: Well, that was it — the first song I wrote was on that guitar with this crazy [tuning]. I mean, it was just fully random half steps and stuff. But it was great because the guitar still makes no sense to me. Like, at all. So just writing in any tuning was sort of more intuitive, in a way. 

Jacob: Violin, too — that’s such an interesting path to go from what was kind of supposed to be just one instrument in an orchestra to being this so well-rounded artist that you are now. Does it bleed its way into your music still, or does it feel like a memory from long ago? Like, do you still pick up the violin and play it on Joan As Police Woman albums? 

Joan: Yeah, I do. I play all the string arrangements.

Jacob: I didn’t know that. That’s awesome.

Joan: Yeah. And actually, the solo on “Christobel,” that’s the violin. 

Jacob: Oh, no way!

Joan: Yeah. And when the pandemic hit, I was sort of left with what I had at my home studio, and I ended up doing a lot of string arranging for the Tony Allen album, The Solution Is Restless. So I ended up getting more into reconnecting with the violin through that, because I just was like, OK, what do I have here? But I hear you also on the harmony thing. I went to music school and took theory and stuff, but it never connected to me as a musician. I sort of did it as math. I was like, I know that with these combination of notes, it makes this chord. But I never have ever heard chords as, “That’s a 4. That’s a diminished chord.” I don’t hear music like that. So when I picked up the guitar — and it sounds like you had this too — I was like, Oh, this is how people write songs. They they make chords. [Laughs.]

Jacob: Yeah, 100%. I recently actually found out that I have ADHD, and it’s been sort of a relief to hear this because I used to have a lot of shame about how I couldn’t really concentrate in school, and I was either really distracted or really distracting and I would get sent out a lot. Music theory was one of those things where I really wanted to get it, but I just couldn’t seem to crack the code. And like you said, I could sort of do it like maths — if I really concentrated, I could do the homework. But then it would just leave my brain. It’s never stuck. So I’m always really impressed by people that can apply that to music. Or it’s almost like they see the matrix code. They don’t even have to think about it. It’s just part of the way they understand music. 

But I quite like being on this side of things, where it’s still kind of just a color or a shape. It still charms me. It’s like, I’ve had the same partner now for nearly seven years, and sometimes she’ll do something or say something — especially because she’s an American — that it’s almost like being on a first date. I’m still coming to know her. In a similarly romantic way, you know when you just have that moment where a piece of music does something that you truly don’t understand? And sometimes that’s what makes you fall in love with it. That’s kind of why I love classical music. I really don’t understand what’s going on inside of it, but I know it moves me. And that’s kind of all that matters.

Joan: For sure. I mean, I play with a lot of musicians that are just hearing music go by as these specific chords with these alterations, and I hear so often that they, in some way, wish they didn’t really.

Jacob: Really? That’s interesting.

Joan: Yeah, [they wish that] they could escape that part of it. 

Jacob: It’s like seeing how the sausage is made. 

Joan: Yeah. So I feel like there’s obviously good and bad things on both, but I feel happy that we feel comfortable on this side of things.

Jacob: Yeah. As soon as you accept that you’re not an idiot, I think it’s actually quite good. [Laughs.] You mentioned Tony Allen — that was an album with Dave Okumu as well, right? 

Joan: Yes!

Jacob: I’ve never worked with Dave, but I know him personally and he’s just an absolute angel. I actually don’t know anything about Tony, but is he quite theoretically minded? Was it sort of like playing with someone that thinks opposite brain to you, or were you guys kind of all the same animal?

Joan: It felt very cohesive. Tony is the most just feel person. He said, “It’s not my job to keep time. It’s my job to connect to the universe.”

Jacob: That’s beautiful.

Joan: Yeah. And that’s how he sounds to me. He’s not thinking.

Jacob: That’s really cool to know that, because that is how it sounds. It’s really cool when you meet a musician that has a lot more experience than you — it’s not necessarily what I thought as a kid, [which was that] it would be like they can play faster or they know more licks on their instrument. It’s often just that they have a closer relationship to that higher power. The veil is just a bit thinner for them, because they’ve been friends with music longer.

Joan: Agreed. That record came out of an improv session I did when I had an off day on a solo tour in Paris, where Tony lived. I brought Dave over from London and we just jammed for a couple of hours. I thought, Hm, I might be able to write a song from this stuff. And then the pandemic hit, and I had those files, and I just started editing away, chopping it up in every way, and ended up with 10 songs. 

Jacob: That’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to make a record like that, but I’ve always been a little intimidated. It’s so cool for the music to come from real freedom. And I have written songs like that with my guys, where [I] get out of the solo bedroom thing and we write from a jam. But I’ve never made a whole album that was one jam that I then had to sort through later. I remember hearing Radiohead’s King of Limbs was made similarly, where they jammed a lot and then they kind of chopped everything up and resampled it and collaged it. This idea has always been so appealing to me. But that must have taken you a lot of endurance to be the one that sorts it at the end and puts it together.

Joan: I had an engineer that I was working with. If I did not have him, I would have lost my mind. Literally, we would ride our bikes to a studio, in the middle of no one else being on the street, and work. Then I would come home and work myself. It actually kept me sane, the insanity of it. But without his help, his ability to keep things organized, I would not have been able to do it.

Jacob: That’s really cool. I was working on my first full album during the pandemic, and it’s funny because I’ll look back on it now and it’s actually kind of the least proud I am of any of my work. I think I was maybe too close to it and couldn’t really hear it correctly. But during that time, it was a blessing to just have something to work on and turn over and fiddle with. I think I would have gone crazy without music.

Joan: Yeah, for sure. Your new album has so much wonderful ambience on it. I love how slow it is. It takes its time and just hangs out in these sounds for a good amount of time. I really appreciate that. And I could be wrong about this, but I feel like you captured the feeling of the loneliness of being on tour. Is that true at all?

Jacob: I think so, yeah. Thank you for saying that. I went through a pretty dark time — I guess it was the end of 2023, wrapping up this tour for the last record. I think when I finally got home, it just all hit me at once. I didn’t think I needed to say anything about it at first. Actually, a lot of this album just started out as music that I wasn’t going to show anyone else — which I hadn’t written like that since I first picked up the guitar, with no goal. I really just was sick of myself and feeling isolated in my own body. Even when you’re around people, you can feel lonely, right? This sounds funny, but writing those songs almost felt like I was conjuring an imaginary friend. Just songs to keep me company. And maybe that’s why they take their time, especially the instrumentals — I think I just wanted something to sit with. And I was a bit sick of music that was making a quick point, especially in an age of higher-ups asking for content or shorter songs. I was kind of just like, Well, maybe I can get back to that, but for now, I really just want to write something that feels still.

I didn’t even consider it a thing I would put out until I shared it with a couple people, and they were like, “Have you considered that people might need this?” So I’m glad that comes across because — maybe this is something a martyr would say, but I sometimes feel like it’s our responsibility as musicians to be vulnerable. I mean, it comes back to what we said at the beginning of this chat: when you say something that’s just honest and sincere and authentic, it’s not just how good it feels for you, it’s not just our catharsis as writers, but other people then vibrate with what you’re saying, and you kind of do them a service by being so open. So I guess I just felt, Man, maybe if I’m this honest and this publicly lonely, as much as that will sting for a second, there might be people that also get something out of it or relate to it, just as I have from other artists.

Joan: Yeah. I feel like it’s all artists’ responsibility to be as vulnerable as possible. Because we’re so lucky to get to do what we do. You know, you talk about having ADHD, but when we get into the music — I don’t know about you, but that’s when I can focus. 

Jacob: Yeah. 

Joan: And that’s a gift that we have to honor. It feels like we have to always be giving back to that.

Jacob: I agree. Do you feel like it’s possible to abuse music? 

Joan: [Laughs.] 

Jacob: Do you know what I mean? 

Joan: I’m not sure. Keep going.

Jacob: I completely agree with you that it’s a gift. And in the same way that gifts aren’t to be squandered and we have to do something with them, I sometimes wonder if gifts can also be sort of abused. To deliberately be insincere in music, for example, feels like an abuse of that gift, this crazy, weird thing we’ve been blessed with. You know?

Joan: I hear you. Sometimes I hear music and I’m like, “Stop!” It feels like an assault, in that someone has made it just for a reason that I don’t really respect.

Jacob: That’s a good way to put it. I think that’s what astonishes me sometimes in an artist, when you can really hear why they’ve done it, and it feels really beautiful. In fact, I’d ask you about that. You’ve released a lot of music — what makes you come out with another album? What brings you back every time? Is it just this constant desire to express, or are there times where actually have put it down and then decide, decisively, “I’m going to pick it back up again”?

Joan: It’s a great question. I feel like at this point, I made the album, I did a tour, and now I’m going to be touring for another six months or so. But of course I’m thinking, I gotta start writing. What do I got? And right this second, I don’t have much. And the thing that I’ve learned is that is not only normal, it’s healthy, and to not push it. I’m doing a lot of writing — just writing without music, writing words. And if the music isn’t there, great. I have learned historically, the music will be there. I have to remind myself that all the time. Because there’ll be that voice like, What is the matter with you? Why haven’t you written masterpieces, three in the last week? So the thing that I really feel like I have to listen to is when I feel the interest in making something and then honoring that. And then it’s always there. Even if it’s just a tiny bit of something that feels good, it will develop. 

I love the thing you said about making music just for yourself. Because ultimately, it is just for ourselves, you know? I feel like the human race, we all really share the same feelings. The details are different, but we share the same feelings and wants and hopes and sadnesses. And the music that you make for yourself is going to connect with people, possibly even more if it’s 100% fully written like, “I need this for myself.” Well, guess what? Like you said, your friends were like, “Maybe other people really need this as well.”

Jacob: Yeah. That’s so true. We’re so connected. It’s sort of like a comedian — a comedian wouldn’t necessarily think to write jokes that only others are going to find funny. They’re going to observe things that makes them laugh, and then share it. And it’s a small difference, but again, it’s the sincerity thing. And I guess that’s always been my attitude as well. I could try and please an audience and guess what they want, and I’ll probably just always get it wrong. But if you can make music that you really love, and you mean it, then I suppose we’re all so linked on this human level, I always think, Someone is bound to like this. I’m not that weird. I’m not so avant garde or so interesting or so unique that there wouldn’t be someone out there that would feel this. [Laughs.] You know?

Joan: Yeah. You mentioned higher power — I feel like it’s like the built-in course correction that we are sort of given. Like, “Oh, you’re trying to make this for someone else. That’s not going to work.” You’ve gotta just keep it to you, and that will be honoring everyone else as well.

Jacob: Yeah, there’s no shortcut, really. And what’s so beautiful about that is, why wouldn’t you want to make it that way? Why wouldn’t you want to make music that you love? Ultimately, that is more rewarding if you can make it for you and you love it, and then you get the reward of other people responding to it. It’s a win-win.

Joan: It is.

(Photo Credit: left, Liv Hamilton)