Michaela Jayde: “I learned that the transformative process of motherhood didn’t have to displace me as an artist”
Michaela Jayde is a soul vocalist and singer-songwriter based in Naarm/Melbourne. A highly sought-after performer, her sound is a deep exploration of old and new soul, fused with electric elements pop and R&B.
Throughout her career Michaela has collaborated with a range of artists, including Tones & I, Thndo, Stan Walker, Samantha Jade, Kylie Auldist, Mantra, Ben Abraham, WILSN and many more. This work has seen Michaela perform on Jimmy Kimmel Live, AFL pre-match performances, The Sound on ABC TV and Studio10.
2022 heralded the rebirth of Michaela’s original project, stepping into her own again with the release her single All Or Nothing At All.
We spoke to Michaela about this new chapter in her creative life.
Photo by Al Parkinson / @ilikewhatyoulooklike
Hello Michaela, thank you for speaking to Mother Lode. To begin, can you tell our readers a bit about your music and family life?
I’m a soul artist based in Naarm/Melbourne, and my work as a vocalist is incredibly varied. I’m a singer-songwriter, backing vocalist, session vocalist, vocal teacher, and I also perform at corporate events, weddings, and bar gigs. My husband Bryce and I have been together for 16 years and we have two beautiful kids – Levi, who is (almost) 8, and Coco, who is 5. Bryce is a firefighter, so we work in completely different fields.
At what point in your music career did you discover you were pregnant?
I had been building my solo career for a few years, and was just starting to record a few of my originals for a debut EP. It was somewhere in the late stages of production that I found out I was pregnant. For my fellow music industry friends, I suppose the expected thing for me to say is that it was a complete surprise, considering the timing of it all. But in truth, the pregnancy was planned. Bryce and I were at a place where we were so ready and excited to start our family, and for some reason, despite being on the cusp of wrapping up and releasing my first (albeit small) body of work, I still wanted a baby more than anything.
How did you imagine motherhood would affect career?
I suppose my expectations can be perfectly illustrated simply in the fact that we started trying for a baby quite literally in the middle of recording my debut EP! It’s not that I thought it would be easy, because I did know that having a baby would be all-consuming… But there was definitely a part of me that held onto this wild optimism that I could somehow do both. I wanted to live fully in both worlds.
And that desire to live fully in both worlds – to be the best mother we can, and the best artist we can – is something that doesn’t go away. But take us back to that time. What was it like when Levi was born?
When Levi arrived, not only did I get hit with reality of just how all-consuming motherhood is, but what I didn’t foresee was also how willing I would be to let go of my career for that season. My focus naturally shifted; my priorities recalibrated. I wanted to be present for my kids and not miss out on precious moments with them that I knew I’d never get back.
Then when Levi was 12-months-old I finally released the first single from the EP, with all the accompanying promotion drenched with the messaging that it was part of an upcoming EP (bless my little optimistic naïve heart). That single was For The Good Of Your Soul, and to this day it is the only song from the EP to be released. I just had absolutely no desire to move forward with pursuing my own solo career as an original artist.
The pressure to spend countless hours, money and mental energy on keeping an original project afloat seemed too high a cost at the time, and the thought of trying to be everything to everyone in all capacities was a mess I couldn’t make sense of.
Michaela (pregnant with Coco) and her son Levi.
What has been your greatest challenge in navigating that “dual pull” of being a musician and a mum?
The hardest part for me was feeling that I had lost part of my identity.
When my kids were small, I stopped writing songs, and I found myself clinging to the safety and comfort of playing the supportive role as a backing vocalist. My lead vocal gigs were increasingly few and far between. While backing vocal work is a very special part of my job that I have always and will always love, I was using it as an excuse to avoid having to put myself out there. For a long time, I abandoned the “songwriter” part of my identity. Not just the songwriter, but also the lead singer – the “headliner”.
When I did return back to the music scene after my two maternity leave periods, each time I progressively felt less relevant, less seen, less worthy of a seat at the table. I became disorientated and lost trust in my own intuition as a creative, and also confidence in myself as an artist, songwriter and lead performer.
Wow. Anyone who has seen you live would know what a powerful performer you are. Why do you think your confidence took such a hit?
Part of it was feeling intimidated by the pace I thought I had to match amongst my peers. Do you remember, as a kid at the roller skating rink, when the speed skaters would take the floor? I would watch from the sidelines, skates on and laced up tight, knowing how much I wanted to join them, but vastly aware that I wouldn’t be able to keep up… That if I attempted to join at that pace, I would fall.
Motherhood slows us all down. The attentiveness in learning your baby’s rhythm down to the hour, even the minute, forces you to zoom in and be acutely aware of time. When’s he due for a nap? How long has he been feeding on the left side now? How many hours did he sleep last night? Time becomes this highly prized, yet incredibly limited, commodity. So when I looked at the mammoth task of managing my music career… And then looked to my peers, who seemed to be killing the game all around me… All I could see was all the ways I couldn’t keep up.
I also feared that people wouldn’t want to hear my music anymore. I worried that I had ‘aged out’ of relevancy because I’d had a baby (as if having a baby ages you more than your age itself?). That was all my own insecurities, of course. Could it be that are we are culturally fed this idea that women in music are only worth listening to when they are young, appealing and malleable?
For sure. There’s a power that women step into after they’ve grown a child that can be intimidating to men in power. That’s why it’s so exciting to see women and mothers stepping into leadership roles in the music industry recently – such as Vanessa Picken, the new CEO at Sony. But bringing it back to the grassroots level – how can we as a community better support mums when they return to their creative practices?
I won’t claim to hold any profound answers for how to shift culture – but I do know that mothers are an important voice in our industry, and more targeted practical support (such as grant funding, and childcare solutions or subsidies) would go a long way in giving mums and primary caregivers a more realistic road back in. I also believe that representation across festival line-ups, radio, streaming playlists and social media has the potential to influence who or what the wider public will pay attention to.
Photo by Al Parkinson / @ilikewhatyoulooklike
Taking this issue back to a personal level, how did you push through those emotional barriers? Your fears; your insecurities? Do you have any advice for mamas out there who have pressed pause on their own projects during early parenthood, and are now getting back into things?
Find your own rhythm. We can’t look at another musician-mama and compare ourselves to their pace, their output. Stay grounded in why you’re here in the first place, and stay focused on what you, personally want to achieve. Take it one step at a time, and at your own pace.
For me, I’ve been focusing on writing, testing my creative boundaries, trying not to be limited by pre-existing frameworks or “go-to” approaches in my songwriting process. I’m also trying to analyse areas I could improve as an artist, including learning how to be more business-minded. I mean, if I could fuel a life-long career on just pure passion and love of the craft, I would! But I know there’s a fair bit of strategic planning and administration required to keep the cogs turning – and if I want longevity, I can’t escape that side of it. I also ask lots of questions to people around me who are further along in the journey, who have particular expertise in different areas. Lots of learning. lots of ground still to cover… But I’m taking it one step at a time, at my own pace.
I eventually learned that the transformative process of motherhood didn’t have to displace me as a musician or as an artist. I realised it was as simple as giving myself permission to show up. Not for anyone else, but for me. So I redefined my expectations and edged my way back in, gradually learning to back myself as someone whose art, and whose voice, mattered.
Photo by Al Parkinson / @ilikewhatyoulooklike
Yes! I love that you’ve redefined your priorities creatively. What does success in the music industry look like for you now?
At this point I’m focusing on establishing a sense of balance and sustainability in the regular work and projects I commit to: not allowing myself to stay stagnant, but finding ways to continue challenging myself and growing.
I also want to continue honouring and working on my creative craft, for its own sake. Actually enjoying music, and if possible, being able to do music without having to rely on a day job to fund it! My goal this year is to push myself to take a few more risks and try things that scare me, but to honour my mental health at the same time, and look for the balance.
I’m interested to hear the logistics behind how you’re finding that balance. I hear from a lot of self-employed musician-mamas that they’re often dancing with burnout or exhaustion.
Well, I still haven’t got it completely figured out – will I ever? But I’ve been determined to carve out small pockets of time for myself (even if it means hiding in my bedroom while the kids watch a movie); to write, or record some backing vocal parts for a track sent through from a friend… Whatever it is that is filling my creative cup. Rather than trying to take the giant leaps forward, I’ve focused on baby steps.
One thing I’m learning is to be mindful of setting boundaries. When working creatively, it’s easy to jump straight into a job when you think of what needs to be done – learn songs, record ideas, reply to an email, chase up an invoice, do vocal practice… If I’m not careful, these things can cause constant interruptions and my attention is completely divided throughout the day. Sometimes it might mean that I have to allocate blocks of time to put technology away in a different room and remove myself from work distractions so I can be fully present with the kids.
Talk us through a usual week for you. Do you have regular hours or days set aside for music, or do you manage your work on an ad-hoc “as needed” basis?
For us, it’s absolutely on an “as needed” basis. The inconsistency of my gig work, combined with my husband Bryce’s shift work as a Firefighter, means that literally every single week is different. I mean every. single. week.
The only thing I commit to every day is my vocal practice, and every Wednesday during term I have my day job, teaching voice lessons at a high school. All other work (admin, learning songs for a backing vocal gig, writing songs, tracking vocals) is prioritised according to whatever work I have coming up. I truly have to look at each week separately and plan out when I can get things done. Usually when kids are at school or in bed. School holidays are a different beast. My word.
Michaela, pregnant with Coco, rehearses while holding her son Levi.
I’d love to hear how has motherhood benefited your creative practice. What have the positives been for you?
When I sing or write now, there is greater depth, more heart, authority, self-assuredness. There’s pain, trust, love… And also a profound appreciation for every moment I am able to spend with music! There is inevitable growth after walking through the journey of pregnancies, miscarriages, birth and motherhood itself. Bringing all of this – my whole self – to my creative practice has allowed for greater nuance in the way I respond to, and express myself through, music.
And speaking of bringing your whole self to your art, congratulations on your latest single All Or Nothing At All! It’s such a bold statement, both sonically and lyrically. Did you have all those melodic ideas and backing vocal parts in your head from the get-go, or did they evolve during the recording process?
I started with the intro vocal hook, and then created the piano riff around that. I brought the bare bones of the song to my longtime collaborator, drummer/producer Timothy Coghill and we created a demo track. When we had the form in place, I circled back to finished the songwriting. The backing vocals were developed over time – some during the initial demo recording session at Tim’s studio; others in my home studio. From the outset I knew I wanted lush harmonies, and to play with moments of tight, punchy vocal cameos, as well as soaring choral sections.
What was it like having both Stephen Mowat and Timothy Coghill at the helm as co-producers?
Tim and I have been working together for almost 20 years now, and we have always been able to lock into a great creative flow when we collaborate. This was my first time working with Steve on one of my original songs, and he knew exactly where it needed to go. He instantly saw the vision for the song when Tim and I brought him the demo. It was a brilliant team.
Tell us a bit about your upcoming show at Melbourne’s iconic jazz salon Paris Cat on Saturday 18 February. What can audiences expect – are you performing with a band; will it be jazz material or originals as well?
My career is in a transition phase, and I wanted to do a special show to invite people to hear my story and learn more about where I’ve been and where I’m going. It’s an intimate walk through ‘behind-the-scenes’ of my career up until now, sharing the stories behind my originals, and singing covers that hold significance to my story. I’ll be backed by an incredible band, and we’ll be performing two sets, with the repertoire curated especially just for this one-off show.
Photo by Molly Ruth
You just described your career as being “in a transition phase”. Can you shed some light on what has brought you back to your original songs? Why now?
It wasn’t until my mental health took a significant dive and I began experiencing anxiety, that I was forced to return to myself; to dig deep and find the parts of my identity that I’d abandoned.
I began writing again during lockdowns. It was my only little escape from the constant hyper-awareness of being surrounded by the same walls during lockdown. When everything stopped, I had more time – and this time also reignited my fire for songwriting. I realised how much I had grown, creatively. I was writing with an expanded melodic language, creative flow, fluency and was trusting myself to take greater risks.
And then a unique opportunity presented itself when the ‘iso-jam’ trend hit my Melbourne music community on social media. As trivial as it may sound, it was the very lifeline I needed at a time when I was desperate to find a way out of my rut. I could let myself be inspired by the tracks others were sharing, and let my own creativity flow without judgment. There was nothing to lose, because it was all in the name of fun – no streaming statistics, or press kits, or stress about how anyone would receive it… It was simply for me and my mates.
This was the point that everything changed for me. I knew it was time for me to get rid of the barriers I had built for myself. I was determined to back myself again as an original artist, and start this new chapter.
Wow, lockdowns for the win! I imagine it was challenging when everything shut down though. How was your work impacted?
My main work at the time was gigs. It was a devastating blow, and most of my time was split between homeschooling, entertaining our pre-schooler and voice teaching over Zoom. It was… extremely tough. But as I said earlier – if it wasn’t for the time and space that was forced upon us during lockdown, I would never have pushed myself to start writing again.
What advice or words of encouragement would you offer other musician-mothers in a similar position to you?
I’m definitely still on my own journey – still learning, still growing. And although everyone’s path is unique, there are a few key lessons that have helped me along the way, so I’ll share some of these.
Stay in tune with your own person and your ‘why’. When you find yourself getting distracted, pulled away, drowned out or overwhelmed by the noise, return to yourself. Instead of trying to be everything to everyone, or working with the aim to appease external voices, check in with your own compass. Come back to your first love of your music; your reason why.
Don’t give in to scarcity complex. You won’t miss out if you need to take a breather. It’s easy to fall into the trap of believing we must always be active, playing the game, or we’ll miss out. But it’s okay, and vital sometimes, to take the time you need when you need it. If you must create, create for yourself. Because it’s healing, cathartic, expressive, fun, connecting. Whatever. But don’t let your gift be driven by fear.
Let your kids see you nourish your passions and fully live. For many of us working mums, it’s tempting to give into the old rhetoric that sacrificial love for children requires mothers to become martyrs. To lay aside our dreams so we can spend all of our energy and time on servicing their needs. I truly believe that when our kids watch us honour and nurture our gifts, when they see us come alive as we do what we love, or find truth and connection in what we create, these moments extend an invitation for them to do the same. If we want our kids to live wholeheartedly, freely and unreservedly in all that they are, then we must give ourselves permission to do the same. We can live wholeheartedly and also love our kids fully. The two concepts aren’t mutually exclusive.
Of course our priorities shift with motherhood, and we only have so much time and space given to us. But while we wobble our way through finding the balance of raising our kids and working as musicians, we lean into the tug of war, we move with the ebb and flow… We ultimately recognise the beauty and power we hold in being able to show our kids this magical, deeper way to see, connect with and respond to the world around them.
That’s the gift.
Michaela Jayde is performing at Paris Cat (Naarm) on Saturday 18 February. Tickets + info here.