Born in Las Vegas in 1978 and raised in California’s San Fernando Valley, Lewis started out as a child actress. She sidestepped into music in the late 90s, co-founding the LA indie four-piece Rilo Kiley. She has gone on to perform with her boyfriend, fellow musician Johnathan Rice, as one half of the duo Jenny and Johnny, and released three solo albums. Her latest, The Voyager, is out now on Warner Music.
THE FIRST RECORD I EVER BOUGHT
Pass the Dutchie by Musical Youth (1982)
I must have been seven or eight when I bought this novelty reggae song on seven-inch. I was a working actor at the time – I’d been in 100 commercials, and guested on various TV shows – so I had a few dollars in my pocket. As I recall, this cost me $3.50. I took it home and couldn’t stop playing it: I was just obsessed with the upbeat rhythm. I had no idea what reggae music was, but it spoke to me. The fact it was being performed by children – Musical Youth were all kids – made me start to think that music might be something I could do, too. Of course I didn’t know what a dutchie was back then, though. I do now.
THE RECORD THAT INTRODUCED ME TO FEMALE SINGER-SONGWRITERS
Gonna Take a Miracle by Laura Nyro (1971)
My mother had a great vinyl collection, and she was constantly playing female singer-songwriters. I first learned about classic song structures by listening to them, and Laura Nyro particularly stood out. Her voice was outside what you’d usually hear on the radio; that really appealed to me. I grew up singing with my mom and sister, so I loved its strong gospel feeling, with Labelle [a vocal group of the 60s and 70s, with Patti LaBelle as lead vocalist] backing Nyro. It seemed to fit in with the way we all related to each other as a family: whenever things were weird around the house, we’d sing a song.
THE ALBUM THAT SUMS UP MY YEARS AS A TEENAGE RAVER
3 Feet High and Rising by De La Soul (1989)
My mother’s records were formative for me, but when I became a teenager, I wanted to find songs that she wasn’t hip to. She was so hip, though, that I had to go outside rock’n’roll – so for about 10 years, I only listened to hip-hop, house and techno. My friends and I were all ravers – we went to those first underground raves in LA in the 90s, which were really wild. We were kids – 15 and 16 years old – driving around with strangers; we’d go to a shop at midnight on Melrose, and they’d have a little print-out with directions to the club. It could be out in Palm Springs, or downtown LA, or Orange Country; we’d get there at 2am and rave until 10. I can’t believe our parents let us stay out that late – I did sneak out my window a few times. But my mom was still down with hip-hop. She’d answer the phone to me, like, “Yo yo yo, what’s up?”
THE RECORD THAT REMINDS ME OF TRAVELLING
Exile in Guyville by Liz Phair (1993)
When I was 18, I took a trip to Thailand with a friend. We stayed for a month. Bangkok was very raw, for a teenager: there were no cellphones, no internet, and the only music I had with me was this cassette by Liz Phair. I was writing a lot of poetry, and she embodied a talky style of songwriting that I found very accessible. I listened to the album over and over again on my Walkman. I remember vividly taking a tiny ferryboat from Bangkok to a little island, listening to this and thinking, “Holy shit, I hope one day I can make music like this.”
THE ALBUM I WISH I’D MADE MYSELF
Wit’s End by Cass McCombs (2011)
This is the perfect folk record. The songs are so classic, and I really love his direct way of songwriting. I’ve met Cass a couple of times out at this surf shop in Venice Beach called Mollusk. It’s a tiny little place where all these LA musicians get together; you can drink beer, sit on the floor, and watch these great improvisers riffing off one another. I saw Cass play there, and he was amazing. It all comes back to the songs: they are of such quality that I always want to hear what he has to say.
THE RECORD THAT MOST INSPIRES ME AS A SONGWRITER
Dead Dog’s Eyeball by Kathy McCarty (2005)
McCarty is a former waitress from Austin, Texas. She befriended the great Daniel Johnston, and decided to make this record of his songs. It’s one of the best, most story-driven collection of songs I know. They’re both simple and profound; each line punches you in the gut. There’s a really beautiful song called Hey Joe; it’s about depression and mental illness, but you’d never know that unless you knew a little bit about Daniel Johnston’s backstory [Johnston has been diagnosed with an extreme form of bipolar disorder]. With a female vocalist interpreting these songs, they seem so much more polished.
THE ONE THAT CLEARS MY HEAD
Reunion with Chet Baker by the Gerry Mulligan Quartet (1957)
When you’re talking about your own music every day, listening to bands, going to festivals, you can kind of lose sight of your initial connection with music. Instrumental music – especially jazz – helps me refocus. Jazz was, again, something my mum always played around the house – but this record is particularly special. There’s something about its west-coast sound – two horns, trumpet, baritone sax; it’s just beautiful, otherworldly. I have it on vinyl and on a CD I bought so long ago that it’s covered in scratches. The album acts like a reset button for me: whenever I put it on, it clears the decks.
THE RECORD THAT KEEPS ME IN TOUCH WITH HOME
The Very Best of Ethiopiques (2007)
My boyfriend Johnathan and I listen to a lot of world music together, and we particularly love this beautiful compilation. When I’m not with him, out on the road, I put on this record, and it’s like I’m home again. Modern technology makes being apart much more manageable – I can just Skype him when I’m in hotel rooms doing my nails, or something – but this record makes me feel like he’s here with me. It’s so soothing; it’s like liquid morphine.
