A man stands in a shower with his backside to the viewer, leaning against the wall, water falling over his body. The camera fixates on him and even through the screen the viewer can feel the weight he carries — his body tense and unmoving. Jorja Smith’s voice arrives just before the video moves to a night scene, a glaring light shifting into focus.
It’s the poignant opening of Smith’s most recent music video, “Blue Lights,” her debut single, originally released in 2016. Directed by Olivia Rose, the black-and-white video is a solemn collection of similarly gripping portraits, of men and boys — many of whom are black and brown — staring deadpan into the camera, going through everyday motions, while burdened with a great load. A man in his home appears between these shots; at first, he’s wearing handcuffs, and begins to dance in a restrained manner. The cuffs disappear, and once that happens, he dances freely.
Smith chose to shoot the video in her hometown of Walsall, in England’s West Midlands because that’s where she wrote the song. “Let me just paint a nice picture of people that are from here and steer away from the stereotypes; everyone’s got their own lives, everyone comes from different backgrounds," Smith says over the phone, her voice touched with confidence. "That’s what I wanted to show. Things are so beautiful in black and white.”
But that’s just the tip of the iceberg for Smith, who’s had a meteoric rise since the release of “Blue Lights.” Now, she’s gearing up for her debut album "Lost & Found," which is set to release June 8.
Before Smith’s family settled in Walsall, her mother was a jewelry maker who lived in London, and Smith’s Jamaican-born father was the lead singer of a neo-soul band name 2nd Naicha. During her childhood, they both played music in the house, which included reggae, rock, soul and hip-hop, which she offset with her own discovery of house, dubstep, and UK garage. Smith found she had a love for performing when she was 8 years old, and started writing songs when she was 11. “I think music has always surrounded me,” she says of her adolescence.
Much of Smith’s inspiration as a singer came from her father, who has been an integral part of her exploration. “When I lived at home, I’d write my songs and I’d play them to my dad and my mum. And my dad would be like, ‘Oh, this one’s good,’ or ‘I can’t hear a chorus in this.’ I’ve been able to share what I’m doing with my parents.”
A few years later, around the age of 15, she noticed that her peers were using YouTube, so she tried her hand at the platform, uploading lo-fi covers of Labrinth’s “Earthquake,” and Alex Clare’s “Too Close.” The latter caught the attention of her current manager, who came up to Walsall to meet her. By the time she graduated high school, she had written a notebook’s worth of songs, including “Blue Lights,” and her 2017 songs “Teenage Fantasy” and “On My Mind.”
Smith then moved in with her aunt and uncle in London, and picked up a job as a barista at a Starbucks. But her dreams of becoming a singer were always at the forefront: during work, she would escape into the stockroom to record voice notes and write lyrics, and she even acted out mock interviews. She left the job in 2016, just two years ago.
Smith’s demeanor over the phone is soft, yet certain. When we speak she’s on a 14-show run in North America and is set to play Detroit that night. She’s been able to break out of the UK and into a realm of international hype with ease, particularly in the US, where her show’s have been selling out. “It’s a bit mad,” she says. “I never had a plan or anything […] but something is working.”
And it’s easy to hear why. Her easy-going, jazz-infused voice is intertwined with resolve and an autobiographical quality, which often draws comparisons to her own idol, Amy Winehouse. “Amy’s very honest — and you can believe every word she says. I think that’s really important as an artist, when people listen to you. They actually believe what you’re saying and then they take it in.”
The same poise that Smith had when describing the “Blue Lights” video also translates in her music. “Imperfect Circle,” from her 2016 debut EP "Project 11," is another politically and socio-economically charged record about the dynamics of racism. While Smith doesn’t offer a solution — as many black and brown artists are tasked with — she is able to wrestle with the cyclical nature of these ideas in a manner that is fearless, her voice soothing, haunting.
Following "Project 11," Smith landed two features on Drake’s 2017 playlist "More Life," for tracks “Get It Together” and “Jorja’s Interlude.” As the story goes, he reached out to her over Instagram DM’s, saying “he really loved my music and would love to work with me.” Following those songs came her feature on Kali Uchis’ 2017 track “Tyrant,” and finally, her breakout song, the Preditah-laced “On My Mind.”
Smith has a knack for being able to perfectly oscillate between compelling lyrics on social injustice and passionate songs about love, tied together by a captivating emotional honesty. On the "Lost & Found" album cut “Teenage Fantasy,” she appears hypnotic, as she floats along a softened bassline. That same energy carries over to the aforementioned “On My Mind,” a song deeply rooted in garage, an homage to the music she grew up on.
“When I do my shows, I do ‘On My Mind’ as the last song and that’s the song that everybody’s waiting for, that everybody loves,” she shares, incredulously. “It’s so UK, so it’s just mad that you lot like it as well.”
“Blue Lights” — which will also appear on "Lost & Found" — is another nod to British music. Smith borrows from grime pioneer Dizzee Rascal’s song “Sirens” when she sings, “Don't you run when you hear the sirens coming / When you hear the sirens coming.” Although the song doesn’t sonically embrace grime, “Blue Lights” grittiness draws some parallels.
Though Smith has a legion of fans and virality behind her, she shies away from flooding the internet with new music, and still goes at her own pace. Her music thus far has been a timeline of her growth, saturated in a dewy optimism. "Lost & Found" is steeped in that same concept, a coming-of-age piece, a body of work that she created between the ages of 16 and 20.
“It’s just a matter of journey — and yeah, I have been lost and found throughout. When you listen to [the album], you’ll get it,” Jorja says candidly. “It’s for everybody.”