Jawny

Photo Dylan Schattman 

It is a sweltering late summer day when Jawny bursts through the doors at Inked NYC. The heat is of the oppressive variety, the kind that makes the air thick and saps all energy from your soul the second you step outside. Even New York City slows down on days like these, yet here is Jawny, unaffected. His blonde hair spills from the edges of a knit beanie—yes, a knit beanie on one of the hottest days of the year—and frames a face that radiates joy.

Touring is an especially grueling experience for artists, but the stops in New York are often the most hectic—hours that would be spent snoozing on the bus in Cleveland are filled with back-to-back media engagements. It’s understandable when musicians treat these visits with the enthusiasm of a trip to the dentist. But Jawny lacks a hint of fatigue as he shares his story, one that is marked with gratitude for every chapter.

Jawny, born Jacob Sullenger, was surrounded by music growing up in Northern California. His father had put aside his own dreams of musical stardom to start a family, but his guitar was in the house calling to a young Jawny.

“I naturally gravitated to it, I always wanted to play guitar once I got old enough to get my hands around it,” he recalls. “My mom was always blasting a ton of Barbara Streisand and whatever else was on the Top 20 radio. I was always around music, but once I got old enough for [becoming a musician] to be even a possibility, like, my early teenage years, I was pretty hellbent on becoming a rap producer.

“That was my daydream, I was just going to do rap music and be a behind-the-scenes guy,” he continues with a chuckle. “I tried to do that from 15 to 20 and I was massively unsuccessful, I never got any cuts. Just a lot of wasted time in the studio. You would think that would have deterred me…”

It did not deter him. Though he jokes about how he failed to become the next Scott Storch, all that time in the studio taught Jawny many valuable lessons. He likely wouldn’t have even continued making music if it wasn’t for the technical know-how he picked up during those years, allowing him to write and record his own music at his own pace, thus giving him the time to develop as a songwriter.

It took some time for him to hone into his own style, which, if we’re being honest, is such a mishmash of different influences that it’s impossible to pigeonhole it into one genre. Put on any of Jawny’s singles and you’ll hear odes to Beck, some roots in hip-hop, some lo-fi production à la the White Stripes, and a lyrical flow that brings to mind classic funk. The result is a style completely his own, which isn’t always the easiest thing to market.

Simply put, none of his songs sound the same. “They don’t, almost to a fault, but I kinda love it,” Jawny laughs. “I have sort of an ADHD brain and all my shit sounds different, I do whatever gets me excited that day. We had asked [Interscope] for creative autonomy so I could put out whatever I want, I could bet on myself, and they’d put it out into the world. If I wanted to do my weird, experimental shit and make every song sound different, contractually they’ll put it out. But if it tanks and crashes in a firey fucking firestorm they have the option to walk away. So far it hasn’t been that way and they’ve supported me tenfold.”

The full-fledged support of the label is perfectly illustrated by the video for “adios.” For three minutes and 39 seconds a camera affixed to a drone follows a ’67 Camaro as it speeds through city streets, drifting and doing donuts, as Jawny hangs out the passenger door singing along. Viewers feel like they’re watching a playthrough of one of the Grand Theft Auto games as the single shot follows the unfolding anarchy. And every second of the action was shot live on closed streets in Los Angeles.

“We had the idea to do a thing that nobody would think is real,” he explains. “No special effects, no movie magic. What you see is what you get, it’s a fucking IMAX movie, man. We shut down nine blocks and did a one take, one shot planned course with different moments of singing, it was fucking insane. I’m super stoked I have a label that believed in my crazy ideas and helped fund this crazy thing. It cost a lot of money and you had to buy a crazy amount of insurance for everyone because you could die on a set like that. They empowered it, we did it safely, and I’m really proud of it.”

It was the viral video for “Honeypie” that gave Jawny his first taste of success, so he understands how striking visuals can amplify the power of a song. His years spent struggling to get a foothold in the industry not only prepared him to make the leap musically, it also planted his head firmly on his shoulders, allowing him to not get swept up by the madness of overnight stardom.

“I accidentally stumbled upon this beautiful thing that kept snowballing bigger and bigger,” he says with a smile. “People liked the songs and here we are now. It all started from a massive failure that turned into a happy little accident, and I’m pretty grateful for it because it’s pretty awesome.”

Jawny is loving every minute of life these days and he couldn’t be more appreciative.