Exploring the abstract and the intimate in Teeth: an interview with Jeni Magaña.

Between touring with Mitski and working with Emily Moore on the duo Pen Pin, Magaña gives us Teeth, an exploration of self grounded in musical experimentation and expertise.

self-portrait by Jeni Magaña and Glenn Isaacs.


At 9:05pm on March 21st, Jeni Magaña comes on stage left of Mitski. Equipped with an upright and electric bass, she’s ready to back up the singer on The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We Tour. Watching from the upper left balcony, I’m thinking of how she told me she’s best on stage when she listens, how she once jumped after seeing herself on the jumbotron at Boston Calling, and how she might be singing the drum parts under her breath.

At 6:30pm at Cafecito, we’re talking about Magaña’s solo career, her duo Pen Pin, and her newly released sophomore album Teeth, a “witchy rock” album that delves into themes of introspection and learning through heavy lyrics and interspersed ambient songs. The conversation drifts from her time at Berklee to what it’s like to tour with Mitski to her orchestral, ambient pieces and ultimately to Teeth. Magaña is easy to talk to, gets inspiration from everywhere—from rom-com novels to aging relatives—and is the epitome of balance. As a solo artist, one half of Pen Pin, a bassist (who also plays the guitar, clarinet, piano, synth, flute, and flute), a photographer, and as she tells me, even working on a novel in her free time, Magaña is a “tiny orchestra” and a half. She finds time to write and produce in hotel rooms and tour breaks, all driven by a love for musical experimentation, a love she’s had since eight years old, hearing her mother warm up on the piano.

Her latest work is no less the embodiment of creative investigation. Written during COVID, Teeth is a “body scan and an exploration of self” as Magaña puts it. It’s an album that picks up a memory and examines it then and there. Teeth puts Magaña’s versatility as an artist on full display, as she explores different sounds and continues to carve a path for herself as a solo performer. She notes that the album is characterized by a “beginner’s mindset.” Her first time working with the polyphonic synth and programming violin sounds gives way to a “rampage” of creativity and ideas. And though she says she has more of a path now, she’s also grateful for the freedom of Teeth that will give audiences unique experiences in their interpretations. She’s excited for us to have this body of art, whether it’s her favorite “Afraid of Everybody,” a song that “appeared fully formed, arrangement already in mind,” or “In My Body,” a sonically reduced but lyrically intense piece. Knowing Teeth is an expression of the self, Magaña is ready for people “to see [her],” the album a calling card for her musical footprint.


Camille Cypher: To start things off, can you tell me a little bit more about you and your journey as an artist?

Jeni Magaña: So I started playing piano when I was in third grade. And I just loved music. I loved singing, but I loved making music. I didn't know what I liked yet, but I loved experimenting. We had a piano in the house and [my mom] would warm up on it. And I was like, “This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And it's so easy to make notes sound good because everything's already in tune.” So I think that was my first hint that I was going to be like this forever. Then I started playing clarinet in the school orchestra. My sister had a clarinet, so that was what we could afford to start me on. And I love it. I still play it—mostly for recordings. But I did that, and I played upright bass in the orchestra. And so I got such an education in orchestral arrangement, string arrangements, and voice leading because of piano. When I went to Berklee, I already knew a lot. And then in high school, I wanted to be cool so I started a rock band. I sang and played bass. I was talking about this recently. I grew up just on the cusp of the internet. So we just weren't socially aware enough at the time to realize how stupid my band was. But yeah, I feel like that is pretty much me in a nutshell. I’m just always exploring.

CC: What do you find to be the difference between working as a solo artist versus with or for other artists? Is there one you prefer?

JM: Yeah. I feel like there are three categories that everything falls into for me. There’s my solo project, which I started so that I can have total creative freedom and do anything that I want. There's collaboration, where I still get to say my ideas and do whatever I want, but I answer to another person, and they answer to me. It's like dating. We have to compromise at points. And there's working for someone, which is what being a bassist is if you're a sideman like I am. [Artists] still usually hire me for my taste and creative opinions, but a lot of it is more or less, “Learn this line that already exists,” and if I have an idea that they don't like then that's why I have my solo project.

And I would miss one if I didn't have the other. I think I started [my solo work] as a kind of release and a space to create by myself. It takes me a minute to come to ideas sometimes. But at the same time, I love being just a bass player and not having to worry about everything. And also other people's ideas can be so different from mine, but better, ultimately. Otherwise, I wouldn't learn anything. 

self-portrait by Jeni Magaña and Glenn Isaacs.

CC: Do you feel like working in so many different arenas influences your solo work? 

JM: Yeah, that's why I have always been kind of picky about who I'm playing with. Because I love music. The reason I got into it is because it gives me so much joy. And I don't want to be influenced by something that is not to my taste. So I'm acutely aware. When I sang background vocals for my very first college band, it was with this songwriter Will Knox. And he's English, and I sang backing vocals for him. And I swear to God I had an English accent for like three years when I sang. It's just so easy for me to do that. I do it over and over again until it becomes a part of who I am.

CC: So do you feel like you're picking up anything from Mitski?

JM: I hope so. First of all, she is so good. I don't think she's overconfident at all. I think she's just like, “Well, this is who I am and this is what I can offer.” And I've always found myself lacking in some ways—as we all do—but watching her just be like, “Well, this is what I can give you” tells me I can do that. She also doesn't like social situations and loves cats. And that sounds great. Oh! And also song length. I feel like her songs are kind of short. And she's just like, “Yeah, that's what it is.” It doesn't have to be how people or the radio say it needs to be for it to be something people can connect to.

CC: I want to know a bit more about the album. I was finding my own arc while I was listening, but how would you describe it? Are there points in it that you hit?

JM: Well, it starts with “Garden.” I didn't choose the track order, either. Mike DeSanto did the sequencing. So it's kind of his journey that he's decided on. But I like that it starts with “Garden” because it embodies the feeling that I had during COVID. Like “What is this world? And mental health is important, but I'm gonna work on that later.” And I felt like [“Garden”] was a really great opener because then the rest of it goes into revelries about the past, working through the traps of my own making, and just picking apart pieces of myself and holding them up for the light and examining them. 

I really do think it's a body scan and an exploration of self. I don't know what other people are gonna take away, but, for me, it’s all self-fulfilling. It's self-perpetuating. It’s all within self. And external forces happen. But the thing that I'm interested in on this record is examining how I respond to the external. And whether that keeps me down or if I can get back up. I wanted it to come off more contemplative and give more space to think about yourself in theory. We're meditating. 

And it’s recent revelations but also really old ones. Like “Bones” is about the experience I have of my dad dying when I was 15. I’ve fully processed it now, but that song is about picking that back up and asking, “What does that look like now?” Yeah, so just a little journey through the self, starting at the head, maybe going down.

CC: And I did want to ask about this being written during COVID. How do you feel about it now that it's been a few years?

JM: Man, it's crazy. It's not that I think it's the best thing I'm ever gonna make. But I was in such a different place at that time. Now, I listen to it, and I'm like, “How can I even do that?” I'm never gonna make that again. I don't know her. I'm still into exploring, but I'm just in such a different phase now. 

And I had such a beginner's mindset. It was the first time I really played a polyphonic synth and programmed violin sounds. And I was on a rampage with all of these new ideas. It's like the whole world opened up to me a little bit. And now I've chosen a path. And I like it better because I'm on sure footing, but it's also narrower.


CC: Do you experience the album differently now than when you originally wrote it? 

JM: Yeah. Which is how I know it's about self exploration. Because when I was in that place, I wasn't really being like, “Oh, I'm gonna, like, write about trauma today.” I was just like, “What are words that come to my mind? Oh, these ones? Oh, that reminds me of this thing that happened. How do I talk about that?” It was just a little bit of chaos. But now I can look back on that and am glad that I made a roadmap.

CC: Do you want people to know the inspiration behind your songs? Or is it okay that they may not know? 

JM: Yeah, it's definitely okay. I sometimes wonder if I shouldn't [give the meaning away], because I don't want to sway anybody. It's so fun when people come to me, and they're like, “This song made me feel this” or “This is what I thought it was about.” I think that is the coolest thing about music. For example, Pen Pin put out “The Boredom,” which is about ADHD basically. And I thought of it as kind of a negative song, and people put it on their wedding playlists. And then we put out a song called “Fringe,” which is the most loving song I've ever written, and people put it on “songs to cry to” playlists.

I don't avoid telling people about [the meaning of songs] because that would be hiding my expression, which is the whole point. But I also don't really care if they know or not. Words are incredible. It all can mean something totally different based on how you and I are feeling about it.

self-portrait by Jeni Magaña and Glenn Isaacs.

CC: I'm a huge fan of “Beside You” and “Paul.” But do you have a favorite? Or is there a song that you're really excited for people to hear? 

JM: I think “Afraid of Everybody” is my favorite. It was like a gift. The song just appeared fully formed, arrangement already in mind. Which is probably why it's more sparse than some of the other ones. I just think it came out exactly how I envisioned it and that makes it near and dear to my heart. Also, it's my literal feelings about parties. 

But, there are a couple of songs that people haven't heard. “I Cannot Breath” is nonsense. I love it. But the words came to me. There's only like verses basically. And I sang them in one take and went to dinner with someone after. That’s what that is—it's not nonsense, but it's not something that came deep from my heart and personal experience.

And I think I'm really stoked for people to hear "In My Body." Especially with how full a lot of the other stuff is, I think it’s gonna be a little bit like, "whoa." I think that's what I'm most excited about.

CC: And then there are instrumental songs on the album. Do you feel like they have an arc or a story? 

JM: For “I Feel Like Ice,” which technically has words, I was thinking about something specific. I was thinking about my husband's grandmother, and what it's like to be so alone as you're getting older. And she was well cared for, but old age isolates you. Eventually, she couldn't really see or hear anything. She had hearing aids with feedback. So loud. So [“I Feel Like Ice”] has an arc, but it's mostly like frozen in place. Like it doesn't go really anywhere, and that was purposeful. 

Not every one of them is like that though. I think “XXO” was just me wandering around on clarinet. And I kind of imagined being in a dark, open space, just walking around and looking at my reflection. But sometimes I don't have words to express the thing that I'm feeling. But I need to do something.

CC: It's amazing how many instruments you play. I noticed that on the album. But it doesn’t actually sound like there's a ton of bass in there.

JM: Yeah, I know. Somebody pointed that out. And I hadn't thought about it. But I think it's just refreshing for me not to [play bass]. I played everything on the album, except drums mostly and violin and cello. I've spent so much time professionally coming up with baselines for people and making them fit a certain way. And there is bass on there, but a lot of it's bass synth that’s kind of mid-range and more of a lead. And I think that I was just bored of being a bassist.

CC: Do you have a specific goal for Teeth?

JM: Ultimately, I put things like this out because it can make a difference to somebody. But also because it's a way of expressing myself and I want people to see me. I guess I'm hoping—which has happened before—that people listen to it and are like, "Oh, I'm inspired. I want to make art" or "Will you help me make art?" So I want the album to be a calling card of my style, just so everyone knows. And it's cool to see how that connects me to new things. It already has.

CC: And looking forward, what are you working on now and what are you looking forward to? Are you hoping to perform live with this album, or with Pen Pin? 

JM: Well, the last few things I've written have been orchestral pieces. It's been really fun to exercise a part of myself that I haven't touched in a long time. And I spent a lot of time on the Mitski tour writing in my hotel room. And I spent a lot of the break in my house, just rerecording everything with live instruments. I rented a violin. And relearned how to play it. I sounded awful. 

I think I'm taking a break from lyrics for now. I have little ideas: I thought of one today, and I put it in my voice memo. If it still speaks to me a couple months from now, I'm going to pick it up. But for now, I think the next thing that I'm going to do is release this album I have called Dreams. It's kind of already out. It’s on my Bandcamp. I didn't put it on Spotify. It just didn't feel like the right time. And I'm gonna weave those into some new instrumental tracks. So I'm going ambient for now.

As for touring, yeah, I hope so. Pen Pin has only done two shows, and they were thrilling. We are totally looking into doing more. And it's fun because we both play multiple instruments, so we switch off. And then for my stuff. I played some shows in LA, and I want to keep doing that. I also want to strip down the set and see what's important, [so I can do] something quaint, like with a drum machine or just guitar maybe. Something fun, I like experimenting. 

CC: And finally, is there anything else that you want people to know about this album or yourself? Is there anything else that we might not have talked about?

JM: I want people to know that emotions are healthy. This is not specifically directed toward men, but emotions are healthy. And if you don't take them and examine them, then you are putting yourself out of your own narrative. [Emotions] are still there. And they're going to come out in other ways. So listen to this record and examine your own thoughts, feelings, and emotions.


self-portrait by Jeni Magaña and Glenn Isaacs.

At 7:30pm, Magaña packs up her things and is off to warm up for the show. She makes me promise not to spoil the premise of her new music, and we joke that I’ll make it the title of the piece. She lifts herself up and out of the chair slowly (she’s been skateboarding and might have taken a tumble recently) and says goodbye. I sit for a bit longer, knowing I’ve learned a bit more about the intimacy of instrumental tracks, the beauty of interpretability, and an artist I’ll be listening to as a solo act, a part of Pen Pin, or taking the stage alongside Mitski at 9:05pm.



edited by Evgenia Anastasakos.

self-portraits by Jeni Magaña and Glenn Isaacs.

images approved for non-commercial use by Jeni Magaña’s management team.

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