Ode to ‘NJ’
New alternate cover art for ‘NJ’ by Sarah Gillum
The year was 2014, and Nicholas Jamerson missed home. He and Kris Bentley had experienced more success than they could have ever imagined as members of Sundy Best. It was a ride that had taken them from humble beginnings in their home state of Kentucky all the way to the to that fabled circle at the Grand Ole Opry, and center stage at the Ryman Auditorium. But Jamerson was suddenly struck with an emptiness that no amount of sold out shows or whiskey soaked afterparties could ever fill. A yearning that only the sight of Kentucky pines and the company of loved ones could satiate.
In the midst of their whirlwind, Jamerson had just received some crushing news. Sadly, his grandfather had passed away after a lengthy battle with illness. The fact that he wasn’t there and missed the opportunity to see his grandfather again before his passing ate at him. He realized how much of his family and friends lives he had missed out on while chasing down professional success. He also realized that he hadn’t really been able to share the joy of his success with anyone he was close to, other than the guys on the road.
This was a defining moment in Jamerson’s life. It was a moment that caused him to take a hard look in the mirror and reevaluate his priorities. It was in this moment, knowingly or not, that the seed of inspiration that would eventually blossom into ‘NJ’ was firmly planted.
“That moment catalyzed a huge shift within me. I was caught up trying to build a foundation for my life and in the process, lost myself along the way. My grandfathers death kinda snapped me out of it, starting this cascade of changes in my life that would eventually break me open.”-NJ
As the dust settled in the wake of this epiphany, Jamerson decided to move back home. He set out to rediscover himself and reconnect with the land that bore him. Channeling this newfound clarity, he started writing new music. Released in July of 2017, his debut solo record, ‘NJ’, is nothing less than a modern Appalachian masterpiece.
“I felt like NJ was something that burst out of me. In retrospect, the songs were just what I was feeling and experiencing at the time and the actual recording of the album happened so fast that it was all kind of a blur how it came together. I just needed to get it out of me.”-NJ
Admittedly, I was late to the party. It would be another 3 years before ‘NJ’ would reach through the ether and grab my ear. I stumbled upon it in the summer of 2020. Soon after, my family and I departed on a trip to the mountains in an effort to unplug and escape the chaos that the first half of the year had wrought. Upon arrival, I discovered that my wife had picked an incredible plot of God’s country for us to spend the week. Our days were spent hiking to cascading waterfalls hidden like gems throughout the area, swimming in the cold, crystal clear waters of rock-bottom lakes, and walking hand in hand with our 3 year old daughter to a creek at the base of our holler that flowed freely, like a wayward vein of the bluegrass state.
The evenings brought a different type of serenity. I’d start a fire, sip on a Glencairn half full of barrel proof Kentucky nectar, and let ‘NJ’ provide a soundtrack to glowing, chromatic sunsets. There, nestled deeply in the heart of Appalachia, I felt an indescribable connection to the album and the land that he sang about with such affection.
While many artists gaze through a telescope and aim for the stars with their debut, Jamerson did exactly the opposite. Instead, he gazed inward and provided us with a kaleidoscopes view of Eastern Kentucky. ‘NJ’ is a psychedelic freight train that weaves its way through your brain, leaving faded snapshots of Kentucky and splashes of vivid color and unbridled optimism along its path. Jamerson’s voice is malleable. It bends and stretches and proves capable of reaching the lowest crevice as well as highest crescendo of the music that envelopes it. They move as one. The album is unpredictable, eccentric, and wild. Above all else, it’s incredibly introspective. Vintage, crackled home audio is threaded throughout ‘NJ’ and leaves it bursting with warmth and nostalgia.
The end result of Jamerson’s soul-speckled vision is wholly unique and remarkable. You can’t listen to it without feeling as though you’ve lived it in a way. You come away feeling a kinship to him and a fondness for the colorful characters that inhabit his world. We celebrate Veterans Day with his grandpa, a carpenter that taught the prisoners his trade. We get out of our comfort zones and let it go for a while. We thank God for Hindman. We get tired of being alone in technicolor motels watching late night talking shows. We give it up for big Rhonda. We sing Abe’s songs at rest stop 193. Then we go down to the riverbank, where we go so we can think.
“NJ is a cool, imperfect piece of art that I will forever be thankful for. I have a lot of precious memories woven within the songs. Voices that I can only hear on NJ. I’m glad I followed my heart and made it.”-NJ
We are too, Nick. We are too.