is an artist, songwriter, producer, and overall really nice, cool and chill person. Born and raised in New York City, Jill enjoys the simple pleasures in life such as late nights, loud music, and avoiding things like long walks on beaches. Jill began writing music as a particularly gloomy child and has kept it up for the last fifteen-some-odd years, during which time the gloom stuck around and eventually just kinda got absorbed into the brand. Jill’s music blends melancholy dream pop elements with a sprinkle of muck and mire, modernizing the poeticism of lyrical heroes like Joni Mitchell, Nick Drake, and Elliott Smith against a contemporary instrumental backdrop. What emerges is a timelessly nostalgic love letter to the loneliness of the human existence—the perfect soundtrack to staring contemplatively out the window on your way home from the club at five AM.
Jill Blutt’s expansive technical ability and eclectic range of stylistic influences inform a dialectically compounded approach to art-making that seeks to spin captivating narratives from the subversion of familiar aesthetics. Jill’s work is a multifaceted, multidisciplinary landscape of dreamy melancholia with a subtle edge—a collection of bittersweet audiovisual souvenirs of past lives lived. Jill attempts, through sounds and images, to close the gap between the storyteller and the listener and to highlight the ways in which this sort of voyeurism reflects the loneliness of the human experience and the painful uniqueness of one’s particular set of lived experiences.
Jill has always prided themselves in being whatever the opposite of esoteric is. Their goal has always been to make art that anybody can see a glimpse of themselves in—whether they want to or not—as a form of emotional voyeurism. By translating a wealth of dynamic musical inspirations and nuanced sentimentality into fresh-yet-familiar modern pop music, Jill attempts to simultaneously romanticize the mundane and demystify the extraordinary.