“Life with others is not a jaguar.” A Conversation with Blumi

Some people come and go. But the people who truly fit into your life, who don’t simply take from it and who ultimately stay, are perhaps life’s greatest gifts.

Which is why our conversation with French-British artist Blumi felt especially heartwarming. Somehow, people, friendships and human connection seem to run through her life like a red thread. They have shaped not only who she is, but also gently guided the path that eventually led her from a career as a political sociology researcher into music. “I honestly don’t think I’d be a musician without my friends giving me the confidence I needed,” she tells us.

And somehow, that sentence says so much about the person behind the music.

With Jaguar, the first glimpse into her upcoming debut album Steady Heart, Blumi reflects on something many of us know well: the tension between wanting to be alone and wanting to belong. Perhaps one of the wisdoms that comes with growing older is realizing that both can exist at the same time.

“Being with people I loved helped me be more myself,” she says.

Her story puts a smile on your face, much like the scent of summer lingering in the air. The truth we hold onto is often something we create ourselves — and sometimes age brings the wisdom to see things differently.

From opening for Cat Power to sharing anecdotes about therapists, sociology books and the many friends who changed the course of her life, our conversation with Blumi became a beautiful reminder that sometimes the people around us are not distractions from life, but life itself.

Dive into our conversation below, where we talk about Jaguar, the journey towards her debut album, overthinking, songwriting, the love for creativity, and the red thread of human connection running through it all.

And perhaps that is the most beautiful thing of all.

Photography by Anne-Laure Etienne and Emmanuel Chevilliat

Hey dear Emma, I’m listening to your wonderful track Jaguar, and I was immediately hooked by the very first lines: “I’ll read books when I’m alone / I’ll think about life when I’m alone…” I think they resonated with me because I’m always longing for those quiet moments alone in between all the busyness and chaos that life sometimes brings. Then I read what you wrote about the inspiration behind the song: “I used to think, with great drama and hand-on-forehead-flapping, that what I needed the most was solitude. If only everyone would leave me be — leave me tranquil, as we say in French.” First of all: when was that period in your life when you felt that way — “everyone leave me tranquil”? Was that feeling the starting point for the song?

Hello dear C-Heads! (smiles) Thank you for these questions. (smiles)

I think I’ll start with the end: the starting point of the song was this realization I was having at the time that, after spending much of my 20s and early 30s trying to find time alone, to find time away from my (lovely) family and my (lovely) friends, I was actually generally happier and felt lighter when in the company of these people.

It sounds very obvious, but to me, it was quite a shocker. (smiles) I used to think that I felt dissatisfied, or not completely myself, because I didn’t have enough time alone (I have a big family and a big group of friends), when actually, being with people I loved helped me be more myself, and the dissatisfaction was just mine, hehe. (smiles)

To balance this out, I have to say that this song could not have been written in my 20s. At that time, I needed to work on needing time out for myself; explore what it meant to be on my own. So it was also a song borne out of getting older.

What I love about Jaguar is that it explores these two opposing desires: the desire for solitude and the desire to belong. Alongside the wish to be alone comes the realization that so much joy also comes from being with others. Have you found a good balance between those two things in your life today?

It’s still a challenge! Particularly because I feel that I’ve changed quite a bit in recent years with regards to this time alone / time with others conundrum.

In recent years, I’ve felt the need to be surrounded much more, or much less the desire to be alone. So I’m exploring, yet again, ways to make this tension work for me.

The title Jaguar comes from the idea that we should stop running away from the joyful chaos of life as if it were a jaguar. I love that twist. It’s actually quite a simple idea, but that’s exactly why it’s so powerful — because we often think in terms of either/or. How did the jaguar become the symbol for that idea?

Thank you, I really appreciate your take on this idea. (smiles)

How I came to it is a bit of a story. I’m quite an anxious person, and trying to find ways to live with this anxiety has been a constant thread in my life.

At some point, I read about how our social context, the way we live, has evolved so much quicker than our brain’s adaptation to those changing circumstances. Meaning, in very simple terms, that when we encounter stressful situations today, our brain will trigger reactions meant to help us survive in stressful situations back when the “modern” brain developed, i.e. prehistoric times.

I really hope I’m not disseminating fake science here — apologies to all serious scientists if I am! (smiles)

Back in those days, a stressful situation was generally a life-threatening one, i.e. coming face to face with a jaguar (or rather a saber-toothed tiger, I know, but it’s hard to write “this is not a saber-toothed tiger” in a song…). When today, a stressful situation, at least in my case, is never life-threatening. It can be extremely uncomfortable, but it definitely doesn’t require batches of adrenaline being shot into my body to allow for my escape.

So that was the first idea — writing a song about me trying to reconfigure my brain into not reacting to my daily anxieties as if they were life-threatening. My anxieties are not a jaguar.

Subsequently, while writing the song, Romain, with whom I composed the song, alongside Lucien, both musicians who play with me on the record and live, suggested we add that idea to the text I had written.

I was essentially writing about my love of being alone, but also about the hidden part of this love — my fear of socialization, groups, intimacy with others — which can give me quite a bit of anxiety in real life.

And so Romain suggested we add that little mantra to the song, to help me, and anyone else who might relate to these questions. Life with others is not a jaguar. (smiles)

“The only thing that I am never going to get bored of, which will always keep me interested because it is always and ever changing, is music.”

The video is beautiful as well. It was filmed at Château Clément in Vals-les-Bains — such a stunning location. How did you end up shooting there? And how did you, Anne-Laure Etienne, and Emmanuel Chevilliat develop the concept and story behind the video together?

Yes, the video is beautiful, I agree! They are amazing.

So the choice of the château was a bit of luck, I guess. Anne-Laure and Emmanuel live in Ardèche, and it was always the plan for me to join them there for the shooting. While they were preparing for the video, they discovered this very small but perfectly contained and decorated château. And the owners were very artist-friendly and agreed to rent it for a very affordable price. (smiles)

Defining the concept for the video was very easy. I don’t remember exactly who started the conversation, but we very quickly agreed on the very simple idea of a contrast between the verse and the chorus, as in the song, and Yorgos Lanthimos-style visuals. (smiles)

Both Anne-Laure and I are great fans.

Jaguar is part of Steady Heart, your debut album coming in early 2027. How does an album take shape for you? Do you start with a clear concept in mind, or is it more of a work in progress where the bigger picture slowly reveals itself song by song?

Definitely a work in progress! The bigger picture is still being revealed to me. (smiles) I’m starting to get an idea…

In an interview back in 2021, you said that you didn’t really see yourself as a songwriter, and that after every EP you wondered whether you could even write songs at all — whether you were made for it. Do those doubts still show up, or has your relationship with songwriting changed over the years?

These doubts are still there, and probably always will be to some extent. However, I feel like I’ve gained a little more of a feeling of legitimacy over the years.

I’m proud of the songs I’ve written so far, and so feel that I can say I write songs without feeling like a fraud. I also feel that my relationship to songwriting has become easier, even if it’s definitely not always easy.

But I’ve kind of trained myself, more or less efficiently, to silence or limit the huge pressure I used to put on myself when writing songs. And pressure basically being creativity’s number one enemy, that helps me. (smiles)

“I feel the most focused, at peace and purposeful while doing creative things.”

In that same interview, you also described yourself as quite an overthinker and said that, at first, going on stage felt so stressful that it was like losing ten years of your life every time. But you also talked about learning to enjoy it more and becoming more present. What helped you the most in making that shift? And how do you feel before concerts today?

It’s nice to have these throwback questions, because it makes me realize I’ve actually made progress! Hehe. (smiles)

My relationship to going on stage has become much better, I guess. I had this moment when I didn’t play live for quite a while, and then had one amazing concert, opening for Cat Power at the Nuits de Fourvière in Lyon.

Not having played for so long made me realize how precious having the opportunity of being on stage was, and how thrilling and delicious and moving it felt to connect with everyone — the musicians on stage and the audience. And I think this realization opened something in me.

I really try and remind myself, every time I’m about to go on stage, of how precious it is to be able to do it.

You’d already done many collaborations and projects before Blumi — with artists like Bon Iver and Feist — and I loved reading how much of it seemed to happen almost by chance. I do think we often end up in those “random” situations because something in us is already pulling us there, even unconsciously — like you going to People Festival to see friends perform and ending up on stage yourself.

When did you first consciously feel that you wanted to fully commit to music rather than just letting things happen? Was it around 2018, when you left your job as a political sociology researcher and started Blumi?

Hmmm… I don’t think things necessarily happened very consciously for me… It was all baby steps.

But there was indeed a conscious decision in 2018, when, following a conversation with a very dear friend of mine who told me to quit messing around and start taking my music seriously, I decided to give Blumi a shot.

I don’t know what would have happened had I not had that discussion with my friend.

And by the way — that was a very brave decision. Was it difficult to make that leap? And is there anything you miss about your old job?

Thank you. (smiles) No, it actually wasn’t difficult…

I had this kind of epiphany, after a few years of seeing my therapist, where I was like — the only thing that I am never going to get bored of, which will always keep me interested because it is always and ever changing, is music.

And I realized I felt the most focused, at peace and purposeful while doing creative things — or collective activities. So the decision to switch from an overall intellectual and logistical job to a fully creative one felt extremely natural.

My bosses at the time were very understanding and supportive, and let me leave in a good place financially. I will always be grateful to them for that.

That said, yes, I definitely miss some things about my old job. (smiles)

I miss being surrounded by super interesting and intelligent researchers passionate about subjects I would never have thought about. I miss these daily conversations with PhD students explaining to me all the details of their thesis on the virtues of giving rivers and streams legal status, or on the intricate social fabric of the island of Lampedusa.

And I miss having to read sociology books as part of my job. (smiles)

“The most important thing in life is connecting with people.”

You’ve always been musical — conservatory training, classical music, singing — but for a long time you felt that a professional music career wasn’t for you. Partly because it didn’t seem possible, and partly because you felt you had nothing to say. What gave you the confidence — or perhaps the courage — to go for it in the end?

Honestly? My friends. I’m serious.

It was a friend of mine who told me to go to music school after my baccalaureate; another friend, Jack Savoretti, who encouraged me and invited me to sing with him when we were studying together in London; yet another friend — we’ve mentioned him already — who told me to take my music seriously; others who invited me to open for them, sing for them, and encouraged me for years…

I honestly don’t think I’d be a musician without my friends giving me the confidence I needed.

What instruments do you play, and which one feels most like home to you?

I play the guitar, the flute, the keyboards, a bit of bass, and I sing. Singing definitely feels like my instrument. (smiles)

But I love playing the classical guitar, and had I all the time and money in the world, I’d definitely train to become a bassist and a percussionist. (smiles)

Favorite books you read when you’re alone?

Oooh… Extremely long subject!!! And my books are still in boxes, so I can’t browse my shelves.

Off the top of my head: The Children of Violence trilogy by Doris Lessing; Maya Angelou’s autobiography; all of Baldwin and Virginia Woolf and Ursula Le Guin; Christian Bobin; Pierre Michon; Virginie Despentes… and loads of science fiction. (smiles)

Blumi — what does the artist name mean, and what’s the story behind it?

The short story is: it’s the diminutive for a song I wrote, Blumi the Darkness, which was the first song I produced myself and felt ready to show the world.

The long story is: Blumi the Darkness is about a man I met in Vienna, Bernhard Blumenfeld, aka Blumi. At the time, I was struggling to find a name for myself. I wanted to identify with the name I chose, I wanted it to represent all of me, I wanted it to be perfect, etc., etc. The obvious consequence was that I couldn’t settle on anything! My expectations were far too high, as usual.

I was complaining about it to a friend of mine (a friend again! (smiles)), and he told me: “Emma. Stop complicating things for yourself like this. Just choose a b***** name, pick anything, the name of one of your songs, whatever!”

And so I chose Blumi.

And the irony of it was not lost on me — after years of tormenting myself and others trying to find a name that represented me, I ended up usurping (with the original Blumi’s consent, of course) someone else’s name. That was life right there teaching me a lesson!

Music you listen to yourself…

Ooooh, lots! And it varies!

Joni Mitchell, Khadja Bonet, This Is The Kit, Rozi Plain, Hannah Miette, Aldous Harding, Caroline Polachek, Rosalía, Neil Young, Astrid Sonne, L’Rain, Julia Jacklin, Alain Peters, Dirty Projectors, Adrianne Lenker, HSRS, Mica Levi…

When you’re not making music, how do you most like to spend your time?

Swimming, being in nature, hanging out with my friends.

The most important thing in life for you is…?

Connecting with people ♥