Jeeni Blog

Helping the next generation of talent to build a global fanbase

Jeeni is live on Crowdcube!

/ By Admin
Jeeni is live on Crowdcube!
Grab your share of JEENI - the ethical entertainment platform.
 
It's official! Jeeni has been approved by market-leaders Crowdcube, with the Jeeni valuation up from £2.4million to £5million in the short time since Covid dealt musicians and performers a hammer-blow. Now you can help keep entertainment back where it belongs and boost the careers of new talent by investing in Jeeni's brand new funding round HERE.
 
With no adverts, no fakes and no hype, Jeeni is putting 5,000 musicians and performers in front of a 4 million audience, and promising that their artists keep 100% of everything their earn via the Jeeni platform.

Jeeni promise to treat their artists and audiences ethically, fairly and with respect, and
will use your investment to expand their databases and boost their value even more.
 
If you like the sound of that, then Jeeni is live on Crowdcube now, and ready to welcome you on board. Click on the link right here to find out more about investing in Jeeni.
 
* and of course, investments of this nature carry risks to your capital. Please invest aware.
 

 

26
Aug

Bradley Jago - A Brilliant Artist Exploring Queer Identity

  When you first listen to Bradley Jago, right away, you are overpowered by the sheer force of his voice. It takes centre in what feels to be an intimate stage, one that exists outside of space and time, where you and only you become privy to not only the beauty of Jago’s soulful voice, but also the profoundness of his lyrics.  Rain is a song that is full of feeling, full of something rare in music - accountability. Jago tells me that the song is about change, letting the rain wash over you and forgetting the mistakes that you’ve made. He asks if we can hear the rain pour, and we can. Behind the beat, there is the unmistakable pitter patter of gentle rain sounds. But this question conceals another. When talking to Jago about the intention of the song, he told me: “I was… looking back at everyone I dated and I was like “Oh damn, there’s some people that I’ve actually fucked over a little bit.” …  And Rain is an apology to those people, to say I’ve changed now, and even though I have caused you pain, I hope we can move forward after. [It] is a metaphor for the pain I have caused them.”  The song itself has smooth jazzy influences. Jago’s clear voice overlaps itself in a layered harmony with a gentle underscored bass, Jago seemingly having a quiet moment of reflection to himself, as he sings to “let it rain”. The song’s intimacies are intentional. According to Jago “It’s kind of like a quiet moment to yourself. You’re at the gig with me in this intimate venue.”  Then, the drums kick in. There is a desperation to the song emphasised by the changed tempo - the emotion becomes fevered as he sings “let it rain” - the words repeating, creating a heightened emotional effect - it feels as if he is begging, bargaining, hoping. There is no longer just a sweetness and a softness and a sadness. There is a frenzy, a fury to be understood. And that’s what love, remorse, and pain is like.  There’s also important depth to be acknowledged within Jago’s music. Jago himself is a queer artist, who writes from the queer perspective. Why is this important to be acknowledged? Because in a song that is this intimate and honest, you need to understand why it is also brave.  Queer identity comes with an enormous amount of negatives - it’s a terrifying thing to out oneself, and make yourself inherently vulnerable to the disdain of others, and also yourself. Jago is changing the game by bringing this honesty to his music, in a world where queer people still find themselves being judged, discriminated against, the context of one love song can change from being a sweet romantic piece to a dramatic profession of bravery. Jago is interested in analysing both sides of the spectrum of queer experience. “I think I’d want to write about the negatives [of queer identity]. Being queer is celebrated a lot (as it bloody well should be). But also there are negatives that people aren’t talking about.”  It’s important to note that queer art, music and writing should not be made distinct by its queerness. Of course it adds depth and context to the art itself, but it is important to acknowledge the art as full of feeling, and therefore, universality. As Jago himself points out: “If I can relate to a straight song, a straight person can relate to my queer song.”  So what’s in store for Jago for the future? He is doing festivals Victorious, and The People’s Lounge -  “Because the music is so honest, I don’t want to do too much to the music. I want it to be really raw and still sound great - but very authentic and sound like it’s coming from my soul.” He also tells me: “I’m writing a track at the moment called ‘New Gay Sadness’ (there’s a little snippet available on Jago’s instagram) - it’s about the gay yuppies in London who are living their life but cannot find love. There’s a lot of pressure… ‘okay, we’re getting to a place of equality, still a long way to go… it’s like ‘oh you should be happy now’ but you have all these other life pressures of why aren’t you in a relationship. Why haven’t you achieved this yet?’” You can catch Bradley at the Victorious festival on the People's Lounge stage at 5:10pm on the 27th of August. Listen to his amazing track RAIN here Here    

06
Jun

I have a confession to make.

Jeeni has returned to Crowdcube to raise more funds for helping new talent. Jeeni founding director Mel Croucher says, “Day 5 and we have reached 98% of our 100K target". If you want to see our pitch click HERE. Mel has been writing the best-loved column in top-selling tech magazines for over 30 years. Now he's agreed to share his work with all our members. He's a video games pioneer and musician, and to to find out more about Mel check out his website www.melcroucher.net. Here's one of Mel's latest! I have a confession to make. I have been pimping a young model, and I confess my shame. My pimping is the result of a moment of weakness. I’ve had models before, and I understand their capricious nature. One moment they are willing to perform across my desk, and the next they freeze and refuse to let me do what I want to do. But it has not been any fantasy performance that’s got me hooked, it has been the fantasy looks. I was bored. I wanted colour. I wanted make-up. I wanted dazzle and glitter. I wanted tribal tattoos, hot bubbles, glowing tubes and a whirling fan-dance. Forgive me, but I’ve pimped my computer.In 1909, Henry Ford declared, “I will build a motor car for the great multitude. It will be constructed of the best materials, by the best men to be hired, after the best designs that modern engineering can devise. And no man making a good salary will be unable to own one.” He then added his famous line, “The customer can have his car painted any colour he wants as long as it’s black.” And so they were. Painted black. When I was young, cars were still mostly black, apart from the odd spot of lipstick around the exhaust pipes of those used in suicide pacts. As for computer manufacturers, they all followed Henry Ford’s marketing strategy for half a century. Except their colour of choice was not black, but the sort of beige favoured by dead maggots. The exception was the ZX Spectrum which was black, but the keyboard really was made of dead maggots. Apart from that aberration, beige was the colour. In fact the beige box came to be used as a term of derision for desktops, implying dated, boring specifications. For example, IBM's early desktop computers were not only very beige indeed, but also very box-shaped indeed, and most PC clone manufacturers followed suit. As IBM and its imitators came to dominate the industry, beige boxes became the unquestioned norm for boring desktop computer design. Even early Apple Macs were beige boxes, until Apple took the revolutionary step in 1987 of switching to the even more boring shade of Chicken Poo By Moonlight. Not long after, equally boring videogame consoles took over the world, until there were so many revolting grey Nintendos and Segas and Playstations and Gameboys, that they had to be transported across deep space to be turned into landfill on distant moons. Meanwhile all Earthbound computers were still fifty shades of grey, until one day Apple changed everything.I remember the shock when their 1988 iMacs were launched. Suddenly we had a choice of computers that looked like see-through giant jellybabies, in a range of five neon colours called gangrene, monkeybum, impetigo, barbie and mince. And that was the end of the adult era in electronics, as a collective madness took over computer marketing. Now users are persuaded to buy machines not for what they do in the adult world, but for their infantile appearance. Users who are normally sane actually enjoy miniature coloured LEDs, winking and blinking through transparent windows like a pixie brothel. Tubes of bubbling, gaudy liquids snake their way through the computer’s guts like tapeworms on acid. Miniature spotlights illuminate cooling fans and heat-sinks from the inside out. These days a serious gamer will spend serious money on a serious PC, then corrupt the whole thing by spraying it with Plasti-Dip peelable, durable, non-slip, rubberised, multi-coloured spew. Yes, I know I shouldn’t have, but a bloke called Xephos made me do it. Let me explain further. I have been influenced by the newly popular phenomenon of celebrity PCs, where people buy a particular machine simply because their heroes favour it, endorse it or actually commission it in their name. For example one of the world’s most popular videogaming channels on YouTube is called The Yogscast. Last time I counted, it had more than seven and a half million subscribers and over six billion views, and that’s a whole lot of purchasing power. Their founder, this bloke called Xephos, got a business partner of Jeeni to create “the ultimate Yogscast PC range to live stream and play games all day.” And as the factory os not far from me, I went over to mock. But I stayed to pray, and found myself mesmerised by the bloody thing. Bloody as in bejewelled with animated red illuminations inside the see-through casing. Which is how I joined this PC pimping revolution.And even non-gamers are at it. Most regular folk, who normally wear sensible shoes and don’t indulge in bear-baiting or country music, they too have joined the pimping revolution by expressing their personal proclivities via their mobile phones. In the beginning, all mobiles were universally Henry Ford black. Now even old age pensioners wave customised casings around, all lipstick colours, sparkles and cutesy-poo creature decorations. At least, that’s what mine’s like. But I still suffer from a residual shame over my pimping habit, and like all instant gratification I feel guilty because of it. In fact while looking for a replacement machine recently, I have been quite attracted by one of those shapely models with a bit of sobriety, experience and bulk. And yes, before you ask, it’s black. Click HERE to visit or return to jeeni.com

08
Jul

Zed, The Dreamer – ‘I died too’ Single Review

Charming, layered and dreamy, the latest single from this starry-eyed balladeer might be his most impactful yet.  With a rich roster of influential artists like Bon Iver, Michael Kiwanuka and Matt Corby, Zed, The Dreamer has a wide and varied well from which he draws inspiration and these influences reveal themselves quite clearly across Zed's young, bright discography. The style of the previously mentioned muses can essentially be reduced to an initial representation of the broad genre of folk music, however, they all individually decide to expand beyond that folk core by enriching it with their own individual styles, experiences and personalities. This is a skill that Zed has adopted in full-effect. A notable element of Zed’s style is his subtle embrace of lo-fi aesthetics. Before, this has materalised as some unfiltered-out background fuzz in tracks like ‘Comfort (Not Love)’, but Zed's latest track takes this raw, casual sentiment to a further level as he uses it to almost reinforce the heart aching messages that he displays in ‘i died too’. The track whirs to life like a tape machine accelerating to the right speed, instantly giving off a warm, analogue tone to the track. The sudden click to silence after just a second of guitar also contributes to a feeling that this is an impromptu recording, straight from the heart, to the microphone.  As more elements are introduced, this nonchalant façade crumbles and Zed’s ballad blossoms into a polished and astonishing chorus of love. Intricate and symbolic lyrics aren't needed for the confessional “Baby, I love you” chorus, because the verse has already provided poetic details into the relationship.  Interestingly, after the first chorus, Zed doesn’t use its natural momentum to maintain the energy, but instead, he brings the composition back down to where we began with an interlude of radio-effect conversational samples and background ambience that replaces the full, lush textures that we just heard over the chorus. Once back down to the ground, Zed’s forlorn vocals begin to slowly levitate the piece once more with the next verse. The second verse consists of simple guitar-tapped percussion, rumbling bass and shimmering chords, all ornamenting Zed’s gentle acoustic guitar and crooning vocals which creates the folk centre of the piece. The second verse much more seamlessly feeds into the second chorus which now professes the title of the piece, “I died too” in replace of “I love you”. This heartbreaking variation to the chorus is such a clever story-telling device. It’s not often that a chorus is altered to reveal an entirely different side to an emotive narrative, it adds a stunning amount of weight behind an already compelling single. The piece winds down one final time as a more distant and mournful "Baby, I love you" is heard underneath auto-tuned vocalisations and a self-comforting "It's alright, now" repetition. This extended ending at almost a minute long is a beautiful finish to an already unorthodox song structure. A final, pensive guitar chord rings out to finish the piece with one last poignant resignation. Zed, The Dreamer will be performing at Victorious festival this August (26th-28th) so be sure to check him out if you have tickets!