I love the effing Wailin’ Jennys. Besides having a particularly pleasant pun as a band name, the core trio of the group creates some of the finest harmonies in the folk game. While on a work trip, I had the good fortunae to be able to chat with founding member Nicky Mehta while in a fishbowl-looking thing in a hotel lobby.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Hello! You’re on the East Coast right now, yes?
Racket:
Yeah, I’m in Pittsburgh. I’m currently witnessing a family reunion—different groups are meeting up in the lobby and there’s a lot of hugging going on. They have these strange little cubicles that are soundproof for people to work in. It’s a little like feeling like a zoo animal in here. But where are you currently located?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Winnipeg.
Racket:
I live in Oregon. We get cold, but I feel like Winnipeg’s colder.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Yeah, it’s quite a lot colder. Climate change is taking out some of the sting—so it’s like, oh, it’s nice and warm, but that doesn’t bode well.
Although the other day we had the hottest temperature in the world.
Racket:
Wait, what?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Yeah, I don’t know what it was with humidity, or—actually, the humidity wouldn’t have been that bad. But yeah, for one day we were the hottest city in the world.
Racket:
That’s bonkers.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Yeah, but usually we’re colder than anywhere in the world as well, in the winter.
Racket:
How does living in the cold affect growing up as a musician—the storing of your instruments and playing and all that? Does it affect it at all or do you just kind of stay inside?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
In January, it’ll be—Fahrenheit and Celsius line up at -40—and we definitely get those temperatures in the heart of winter.
You’re not really venturing out that much, although people here are hardy. Still, for extreme cold, people stay in.
You have to humidify your instruments like crazy because it’s so dry here.
When people ask why this city produces so many artists, the usual answer is, “You can’t leave your house, so you’re in your basement making music.”
But even before streaming, I don’t think that was the reason. I think it’s because if you live in a place that could kill you for weeks of the year, you develop humility.
You realize nature is a formidable force, and that realization—your place in the world—can be creatively inspiring.
Racket:
Yeah, I can definitely see that. I lived in Bend, Oregon a year ago. The vastness of it makes you feel like just a person again instead of constantly running around.
I’m here for a work conference for my day job—talking about pensions. Very exciting stuff, obviously. I definitely don’t need a creative outlet like an online magazine…
With your work as a singer-songwriter, you’ve done other things too, including social work.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Yeah, volunteering in social work and working crisis lines—I’ve done a lot of that over the years.
Racket:
So when you tell people what you do, what’s your main job versus side gigs?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Music is my career. I’ve worked for it, but I’m lucky I can make a living from it. That’s not something most people can do, so I’m super thankful.
I don’t count on income from the social work or volunteering stuff—it’s just that: volunteering.
I trained to work on a crisis line, but again, volunteer work. Not a lot of side gigs right now.
But the world has changed a lot recently!
Racket:
Don’t I know it.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
We’ve been touring there for so long—we have so many friends and such a good fan base. Our fans are amazing.
I’m glad we can come down and inject a little bit of light into things.
Racket:
Yeah. We’re looking forward to it. We’re in Eugene, and one of the stops is where I live now.
At this government communications conference, everyone’s flustered. A lot of my friends don’t know where to go or what to do.
“Chaotic” is an understatement. It’s really stupid.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Yeah. That’s another way of putting it.
Racket:
It’s just ridiculous.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
It IS ridiculous. That anyone can have this kind of power is ridiculous.
Racket:
It just blows my mind.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
We’re feeling for you.
Racket:
Appreciate that, thank you. With your activism, music, and art—are you doing all this just to avoid a nine-to-five job interview?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
I don’t think I’d function well in a nine-to-five.
I’m always trying to avoid it!
Racket:
Do you ask standard job interview questions when looking to hire new musicians?
Like, “Tell me about a time you had to work as a team to accomplish a goal.”
The Wailin’ Jennys:
We’ve been lucky to know people. Our guitarist is newer, but everyone else has been with us forever. So, I haven’t had to.
Racket:
Oh man, aren’t they lucky?
With the Jennys, you’re known for harmonies and everything coalescing. Does that translate into real life—are you besties or is it more of a coworker vibe?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
We just don’t see each other much. Heather’s in Taos, Ruth is out on Salt Spring Island, and I’m in Winnipeg.
On the road, it’s a lot of fun. We love hanging out and playing together.
But yeah, we’re definitely friends—it’s just that we’re apart most of the time.
Racket:
I’m looking forward to getting back to my five-year-old tonight. He’ll be crashed out, but still.
Any go-to methods for dealing with missing your kids while on the road?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
I have twins, and they’re teenagers now. That’s easier, but high school is its own thing.
We’re always on FaceTime. Heather’s daughter is around six, and Ruth’s son is about nine.
We just stay in close contact. This tour’s only seven days—it’s not like the old days when we were gone for three to five weeks.
Racket:
It’s been one week for me, and I hate it.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
You do your best. It’s tough, especially when they’re little.
I remember when mine were small—it was so hard being away.
Racket:
Did you find any parenting hacks? Things not in books?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
With twins, you realize kids are who they are from the start—even in utero.
We saw other parents fretting over how they were “influencing” their child, but honestly, you don’t have as much influence as you think.
They’re kind of factory-set. As long as you don’t totally mess them up, they’ll be okay.
Racket:
Oliver was a kicky boy in the womb, so we called him Wiggle Boy. He’s like the Duracell bunny—doesn’t stop.
We made a game called Piñata where I put M&Ms in my beanie and he stomps on my back until they fall out. Feels amazing.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
I love that. That’s amazing.
Racket:
He gets candy, I get knots worked out. It’s a win-win.
With your music style—truthful storytelling—have you ever just made something up entirely?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Made-up things? I don’t think so. Maybe made up a story, but not something totally untrue.
Racket:
Like, “these words sound nice together, let’s build something.” Just a story that’s not real.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
I don’t think we’ve done that, no.
Racket:
When writing music, is there a hill you’re willing to die on? Like, “This has to be in the key of D”?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
We have an unspoken rule: if two out of three of us aren’t into something, we drop it.
Sometimes someone’s adamant, and we honor that. Like right now, I wanted drums in at the top of a song. Heather was unsure, but I pushed for it.
We’re usually democratic. We trust each other, and disagreements are rare.
Racket:
Between photography and writing a kids’ book, is there a creative outlet you haven’t tried but want to?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
I want to paint so badly. I have all the supplies, but I just can’t sit down and do it.
I think it’s fear of failure. I hate being bad at things. But I really want to learn.
Racket:
Just do it.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Good point. I’ll do it.
Racket:
I believe in you. Do you remember the first song that made you cry?
The Wailin’ Jennys:
There was a song that scared me so much I cried—”Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport.”
It had this wobble board sound that reminded me of snakes. My siblings would play it to torture me.
Racket:
I’m going to look that up.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
It’s Australian. But probably not what you meant.
I was a teenager in the ’80s—so maybe something tragic like “Missing You” by John Waite.
Racket:
My wife judges me because the first movie that made me cry was Honey, I Shrunk the Kids—when Antie dies.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Oh my God.
Racket:
That brave little ant protected the kids from a scorpion! I thought he’d live in an ant farm at the end. Instead—boom. Gone. Devastated.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
I remember watching Day of the Dolphin when I was five.
It’s about dolphins trained to carry bombs. In the end, they’re trying to send them back into the wild. The dolphins are calling out their trainers’ names. I bawled.
Racket:
Oh no!
The Wailin’ Jennys:
George C. Scott was in it.
Racket:
I know him! My mom liked him. He looked like a buff Woody Harrelson to me.
The Wailin’ Jennys:
Oh yeah, I can see that.
Racket:
Then again, I think the drummer of the Lumineers also looks like Woody Harrelson. Maybe I’m just face-blind.