As JETs, most, if not all, of us have probably dealt with some form of alienation or homesickness during our time in Japan. Especially when the winter moves in, crushing most sunny days and forcing us to stay in our glaciating apartments, there comes a time when a lot of us probably question why we came here in the first place. But it is often in Japan, thousands of miles away from home and anything familiar, that we discover parts of ourselves we never knew existed. In challenging situations, we can see the harshest version of ourselves materialize, but if we are lucky, we can also see the best version of ourselves emerge seemingly out of nowhere.
Although she is not a JET and does not live in Japan, Kathleen Edwards knows these feelings all too well.
A Canadian singer-songwriter who spent part of her youth in South Korea and Switzerland, Edwards has slowly established herself as a compelling singer-songwriter in the past 10 years. Her first three albums, Failer, Back to Me and Asking for Flowers, all featured songs in which the narrator questions his/her place in the world, detailing vivid stories about movement, memory and men. Many of her gritty songs are not unlike a John Irving or John Steinbeck novel.
It is much to my delight, then, that Edwards released her fourth album, Voyageur, in the middle of my second winter in Japan. Edwards wrote the album in the midst of her divorce from guitarist-producer Colin Cripps, and much has been publicized (annoyingly) about her new relationship with indie rock star Justin Vernon of Bon Iver, who co-produced the album. But perhaps it is because of the ending of a relationship and the beginning of a new one that this album feels both rejuvenating and contemplative, wondering where things went wrong but also moving full-speed ahead to the uncertain future.
I imagine these bipolar feelings, too, are something most of us feel during our time with the JET Programme. When do we know it’s time to leave Japan and our comfortable jobs? When do we know it is time to move on? How do we deal with personal and professional relationships from back home? How can we work to maintain all the new relationships we have formed in Japan?
There aren’t any mathematical, concrete answers to these questions, which sometimes makes nulling over these choices frustrating, especially if you don’t like making life decisions under pressure.
Edwards seems to understand this notion of self-doubt and uncertainty, but she never lets it paralyze her. Lucky for me, her new album has become the soundtrack to my winter – a time when every day, I am thinking about my next move in life and the kind of person I want to become after my time with JET ends.
The song “Going to Hell” describes sailing away on the Great Lakes and making “a white flag from your pillow” while the lush “A Soft Place to Land” describes looking for comfort in some of the most unexpected yet simple places. (“I’m looking for a soft place to land/the forest floor, or the palms of your hands.”).
The lyrics and music of Voyageur aren’t always peppy and bright (though the love song “Sidecars” and tongue-and-cheek “Hot Mess” are upbeat), but music has never
sounded so real to me in a long time.
Give Voyageur a listen, and hopefully it helps guide you through the rocky emotions of winter.
-Sheila Burt