Conversations with Jaime Brackeen

Today we’d like to introduce you to Jaime Brackeen.

Hi Jaime, so excited to have you with us today. What can you tell us about your story?
My journey towards becoming Le Fauve (my artist name) began when I moved to Los Angeles in 2015. I had been bouncing around the country working various office jobs and feeling depressed and purposeless for the previous few years after graduating college with a degree in Journalism.

I moved to L.A. to become a comedy writer. I took a ton of improv classes and a few writing workshops and started doing standup. But after all the initial excitement wore off, I still felt depressed and constantly exhausted. As one does in this city, I had also started going to therapy. After a couple of years of unpacking my bullshit, I realized a lot of why I was pursuing comedy had to do with validation and that I maybe didn’t need it anymore. So I decided to take a break. I would just exist and work for a year and get my head on straight and pay off some of the debt I had accrued (improv classes ain’t cheap, y’all).

As I went to work picking up way too many serving and bartending shifts, and exhaustion and personal growth had me in constant emotional turmoil, a strange thing happened. Songs just started popping into my head. I’d be walking my dogs, Alby and Rio, and suddenly the pace of my footsteps would set a beat. And then words would appear. And a melody. I have all these shaky videos and audio recordings on my phone of song ideas that kept hitting me while I was out walking.

Then I’d come home after work and try to figure out the chords on my keyboard. I had taken lessons when I was younger, but I’m by no means a strong player, so sometimes it took a while. I had also bought a cheap electric guitar off of some guy on Craigslist and was trying to learn how to play that. I wrote my next single “Leave Me Alone” (coming out in first week of August) by accident while trying to remember how to play a Nirvana song.

I posted a couple of songs on Instagram and got some really positive feedback. Meanwhile, the songs kept coming to me. It was like they had been building up for years and I’d finally opened the floodgates.

I’m very sloppy and impatient when it comes to actually getting good at instruments, so putting together a band of actual skilled players was my next big move. After months of searching, things finally came together in January of 2020. I found a guitarist, bassist, and drummer that helped me polish five original songs. We got them together in time to play our first concert under the band name Down, Boy on March 4, 2020 and then… well, you know what happened.

During the pandemic, a good friend and music mentor pushed me to learn how to record my own demos. Another friend helped me download Logic and I got to work. By August, I had five songs done. I’d been talking to a couple of friends in my hometown La Crosse, Wisconsin while I was writing — they’d built a small recording studio inside of a storage cube. They wanted to practice recording and I wanted to get some songs out, so they helped me record for pretty cheap.

Throughout this process, I realized that it was easier to get things done if I wasn’t running ideas by multiple people. I love collaborating and am always open to feedback from my bandmates, but it was (understandably) hard to get everyone as motivated as me during this weird year. So I opted to become a solo artist since the songs were getting mainlined straight from my heart anyway.

Le Fauve means “the beast” in French. My therapist is very Jungian, so we do a lot of shadow work. I’m constantly trying to love and accept these scarier, darker parts of myself, and sometimes it feels like my songs bring them out into the light. Because of where and how I was raised, I’ve had to break through a lot of mental barriers surrounding my sexuality, needs, anger, vulnerability, being emotional… these kinds of animalistic, beastly parts. When I’m playing my music, it feels like some of these qualities take over, so I wanted to embrace that. I wanted to become The Beast. It’s kind of like an alter ego, but also it’s entirely me.

Anyway, cut to November and I was able to release my first song, “Forever Summer.” It was terrible timing for a summer song, but I so badly wanted to put something out to show people what I’d been working on. I was ecstatic. It was all happening. And then… a huge slew of delays for the following tracks.

Some of it was technical, some of it was me being overwhelmed, but most of it was communication issues between me and my producers. They’re good people, but we were not on the same page with the release timeline I wanted. So I had them send me what they had so far. Luckily I’d made some local music connections over the last year or so, and they’re now helping me finally finish the tracks.

Which brings us to now. I’ve got a riot grrrl-esque single and music video coming out and an album in production. The world is opening up again, and I have 15 months of pent-up energy I’m ready to release on stage. I hope you’ll come see me play.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
My biggest hurdle in working on my music is my own subconscious brain. I’m a perfectionist and have a lot of anxiety over the quality of my work and how people will receive it. That makes it VERY difficult for me to feel like something is ever “done.”

I had to learn to stop showing my demos to just anyone because if someone wasn’t immediately psyched about the song, I would be like “thanks for your feedback” and smile on the outside, but in my head I’d just be thinking “this is bad, you are dumb for trying to do this, who do you think you are.” I’m definitely working on being nicer to myself. And I had to realize that until a song is close to finished, not everyone has the ability to hear its potential.

To be honest, this is true of any big goals I make for myself now. I don’t like to talk about them too much because they feel so fragile and easy to ruin. At the end of the day, I’m the only one who knows just how much I’m capable of. So why would I share an intimate goal with someone who hasn’t seen me in action? Artists owe it to themselves to protect their fledgling ideas.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Le Fauve is a passion project, but I also work in production — producing, wardrobe, props, set decoration, directing… you can almost stick me anywhere at this point, except operating the camera. I had to draw a line somewhere.

I also think my peers know me as a person with really unique vintage furniture. L.A. is so amazing in its wealth of well-cared-for pieces and people are always getting rid of them for cheap if you know where to look. So I rotate out the things in my home often and re-sell them to my friends or in neighborhood groups. I also find a lot of perfectly good items on the street and flip them. I guess it’s a side hustle, but mostly it just drives me crazy to see beautiful things go to a landfill.

Sustainability and a hatred of capitalism is definitely a through line in all of my work. The mindset that everything you have is not enough and so you must start over again with something shiny and new to keep up is so detrimental to both the planet and our mental health. I sing about systems of oppression and try to combat them where I can. I’m working on printing merch on thrifted t-shirts rather than ordering brand new ones.

I’m proud of the steps I’m taking to reduce waste and stop supporting big corporations, and I hope that as my artistry is recognized, the way I live will also inspire people.

Where do you see things going in the next 5-10 years?
I hope as our society begins to recognize that we don’t have to accept paltry wages while the owners of corporations become billionaires, that some of this trickles into the music industry, too.

While streaming sites can sometimes make people’s careers, they more often kick back and pay almost nothing for material while artists hustle their asses off to get plays and work multiple jobs to support themselves.

I have a lot of mixed feelings every time I use a streaming service and would love to see some kind of musician’s union rise up.

Contact Info:

• Email: jaimebrackeen@gmail.com
• Website: https://lefauve.us
• Instagram: @jaimelefauve
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ethicaldrugs
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/jaimelefauve?lang=en
• SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/jaimelefauve

Image Credits:
Monika Oliver