How St. Jezzer saved my psychology

Creating and releasing music may not sound like an obvious form of therapy, but in my case, it turned out to be the only option I had.

We were surviving through those dark days of covid lockdowns. I had found myself living through the reality of multiple worst nightmares at once. My soul was crushed, and my normal self had gone into hibernation. My son was just a few weeks old, our finances had been crucified, I had just lost my job through the most hideous of circumstances, and being right in the middle of covid, there was no apparent route for us finding another income stream any time soon. We also had very little community around us to help, having moved into the area just over a year ago. But even if we had community, it would have been illegal for any friends to come and visit.

I remember trying to change my baby son’s nappy. I had changed my daughter’s nappy hundreds of times before, but somehow my brain had become a traumatised mass of goo, and could not recall how to do it. The six months that followed were a daze of trauma, unable to do much. I was leaning heavily on my already baby-burdened wife to do most things. I felt like a complete failure.

Eventually, my ever-patient wife said she needed me back. Her suggestion: go and create some music.

I had been an active musician for the first 21 years of my life, and my prolific musical activities in my youth had been a source of joy throughout school and university. Unfortunately, I grew up. Music fell by the wayside as I got myself sucked into a career watching and supporting other people being creative. But now, with every part of my life in ruins, there was nothing left to do.

Our little office was a tiny room with a 10 year old MacBook Pro, my 88-note MIDI keyboard and some very old (and not particularly accurate) loudspeakers I bought nearly two decades ago as a university student. At the time, I was working my way through (US-based theologian) Frank Viola’s book, Hang On Let Go - a book all about how to survive and thrive in a crisis.

That book became the basis for my track, “Hang On (Let Go)”, as I sought to try and absorb the wisdom from that book. Having recorded Hang On (Let Go), I started work on other tracks. Within a couple of months, I had five tracks - enough to release as an EP.

There was an urge within me to try and release this little EP, though it was quite uncomfortable for someone who has spent their life as the guy at the back - either as a live sound engineer, back office in various IT roles, or a drummer in the backline of a band. To put myself front and centre felt very odd. But it seemed like a good place to grow, so I took the steps to get the tracks ready for release.

Lying with my sleeping baby son on my chest one dreary British winter afternoon, I pondered what artist name I should go by. I didn’t want to go with my real name, as I wanted to maintain a clear distinction between my musical persona and my professional life. But I still wanted it to be obviously me, and obviously Christian. Eventually, I settled on the name St. Jezzer.

In early 2022, my first EP, Good Grief!, was released. We weren’t out of the woods at that point - I was still unemployed, and there were more challenges to come. But with a musical accomplishment under my belt, I was taking those all-important baby steps towards recovery. I was able to pick up more tasks at home, and gained a clearer mind to help me figure out what our next steps were. Had I not returned to music, I don’t know what would have got me through.

I do not consider Good Grief! to be my best work. The production was sloppy and the lyrics raw. But given it was written from a place of trauma, I’m quite content with it being an authentic work. In a world of squeaky-clean digital recordings, perhaps having authenticity trump perfection is a good thing. You can listen to it on all major music streaming platforms - the link is here: https://songwhip.com/stjezzer/good-grief