Joy Crookes: “I could have easily been an artist that became guessable, and I didn’t”

On tour for her second album Juniper, Joy Crookes reflects on pushing her sound beyond her comfort zone, her favourite nights out this year, and creating spaces where people can feel free.

Calling from Berlin on one of the final stops of her month-long UK and EU tour, Joy Crookes sounds energised and present despite coming down with a flu that’s worked its way through her entire tour bus. The run marks her return to the stage with Juniper, a project named after a resilient plant that can survive, and thrive, in harsh conditions. It tracks.

Released almost four years after her critically acclaimed debut, the album finds Crookes pushing herself further both sonically and emotionally. Where Skin cemented her as a singular voice in London’s music scene, Juniper builds on that foundation with more intricate, adventurous production. Shaped around grounding bass and drums, most of its 12 tracks were made with a close-knit circle of long-term collaborators – most notably the producer Blue May, who also played a major role on Skin – creating an environment rooted in trust and creative freedom, a way of working the artist has long favoured.

Crookes took a selective approach to the album’s features, too. Vince Staples appears on the album’s first single Pass the Salt, a track that samples a drum loop from Serge Gainsbourg’s 1968 Requiem, which Crookes had originally envisioned as a Kano collaboration. Instead, Kano chose to record a surprise verse for Crookes on second single Mathematics, a yearning love song that bemoans an overcomplicated relationship.

Written during a period of personal hardship and mental health struggles, Juniper delves into loss, deep sadness, and love in its most confronting forms, alongside self-growth and, ultimately, healing. Though still laced with wit and sharp humour, the lyrics are intentionally more distilled and diaristic than ever before.

On tour, Crookes used that material to create spaces that feel deeply shared. Night after night, she describes a heightened sense of presence, for herself and her audiences, finding that performing is what makes the intensity of the writing process worthwhile. “If I were constantly under the pressure of the extremely fast-paced society we live in and the music industry, then I think I would crumble,” she says, “and it’s stuff like playing live shows that makes me feel incredibly present and alive.”

That same commitment to cultivating spaces where people can feel alive shaped Crookes’ recent campaign with BACARDÍ, which was inspired by research showing that 73 percent of Gen Z feel too self-conscious to fully let loose on the dancefloor – but that many of them feel inspired to move more freely by someone from another generation. To put this into practice, Crookes co-hosted an event at her local venue Jumbi in Peckham, inviting every guest to bring an elder as a plus one. The night created a space where generations could come together, dance, and experience the same sense of community and communal energy that defines her live shows.

Here, she talks Juniper, going out dancing, and taking it all in on tour.

Have you enjoyed being back on the road?

I absolutely love touring. It’s immersive and so real. It really feels like you’re bringing something really special to a large group of quite different people. This might be wishful thinking, but I think it’s true to an extent: there are people who have paid for a babysitter, people who can only afford for this gig to be the gig that they get to go to this year, or it’s their first ever gig.

Do you tend to look out at the faces in the crowd, or stay in your zone? 

I try not to look at people until the end, because I’m quite nervous. Then I really make an effort to look around. I’ve seen so many things – I’ve seen a couple snogging to one of the songs; I’ve seen people come on their own; I’ve seen someone who’s so engrossed in dancing or singing that they actually just don’t even realise that I’m looking at them. There’s such a mixed demographic, age-wise and culturally. It’s fucking sick, to be honest.

Have you been surprised by anyone coming to one of your shows?

Common came to my Brixton show. One of my band members had invited him; I thought they were joking. And politicians come to my shows, which always blows my mind. One of the first people was Zarah Sultana.

 

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On this tour, have you been exploring each city you stop at?

Yeah. It’s been years since I’ve toured, and I really wanted to take it all in. It might sound like pressure, but it hasn’t been. It’s just been me trying to soak it up as much as possible. Even in the UK, I would just be out exploring. Yesterday we were in a theme park in Cologne. Some of the boys went to a Miniature Land in one of the German cities. And I’ve invited loads of people I’ve just met on walks and stuff.

How has it been to perform such an emotional album every night, and to connect with those songs from a distance now?

It does make me feel empowered, because I’ve survived it. Not only have I survived it, I’m now going and singing it around the world, and that’s kind of insane on a personal level. In Paris, I ended up choking up, which hasn’t happened the whole tour. When you’re in flow state, you’re in the act of doing, so you’re not thinking and you’re not necessarily feeling. But when I was in Paris, it was a really prestigious venue, and loads of crazy artists have played that stage. Like, Miles Davis has played that stage. I was singing, and everything was pitch black, but I was fully aware of how big the room was. I couldn’t hold it. I burst into tears. So there’s been moments where, yeah, it has been really vulnerable and emotional, but for the most part, it’s been super cathartic to sing songs written in a time of hardship.

Is there any song that you find it hard to listen to for any reason on the album?

Forever. I only perform it, but I haven’t listened to it in ages because it’s an emotional and quite gut-wrenching song about grief. I don’t feel the need to listen to it all the time, only when I need to.

Do you consciously try to foster an environment at your shows where people can also connect with their own experiences, or are you more locked in on performing?

I can’t remember what artist says this, but there’s a rule: you perform for yourself, then you perform for your band, and then you perform for people. It’s a bit like being sexy, right? If someone’s performing to me, I don’t find that sexy. Whereas if someone’s really feeling it within themselves, that is so much more radiant than someone putting on a show. I think if I let go, then it allows the crowd to let go, because it’s authentic. I know it’s crazy to compare it to a bedroom, but that is kind of the vibe.

There’s also a theory that people are either ‘out’ performers in terms of energy, or they’re ‘in’ – they bring in the energy of the crowd in. For example, Lady Gaga could be an ‘out’ performer… 

You know what, she’s kind of both, right? Because when she sits at the piano, she’s so ‘in’ for me. That’s where I get the pull from her, because she can do both. Aside from being like a pop star and the choreography, she’s also like a fucking mega musician. When she sits at the piano, she closes her eyes, and she’s kind of away from everyone. She has the ability to do the two. I like that theory a lot.

Are there any really standout gigs you’ve been to? 

The Streets at Brixton Academy. I went on my own, and one guy tried to make me feel weird about it. I called him a prick. And then there was another guy who I ended up standing next to, and we ended up moshing together and then cried together. I also saw Grace Jones at Latitude when I was like ten years old, and that was the first day I ever knew what being in love with an artist live felt like. Then John Grant. He played in London when I was a teenager. I think he’s an ‘in’ performer. I was like, ‘I am absolutely besotted by this man’. 

What about club nights?

One of my favourite nights out this year DJ Travella at Ormside. I think we did 10,000 steps in the space of a few hours, but that was fire, because we were really there for the music. We stayed until the very end. Then the other day, I went into SET Social and Jalen N’Gonda was just spinning vinyl, and although it wasn’t a club night, it was perfect to dance to. I’m quite boring, I try and stay in South – Carpet Shop, Ormside, Set Social. I keep it to a two-mile radius.

What makes a good night out for you?

I like to be able to dance. I read once that, after a large amount of data was collected from patients on their deathbeds, they said that they wished they danced more and had more sex. So I wish to dance when I go out. I need to feel like I can be free.

You recently collaborated with BACARDÍ on a campaign dedicated to getting more young people out dancing. Do you feel like going out is really important for community building?

I do. Going out is quite confronting. I’m quite anti “the bubble” – it makes for people who end up being quite small-minded. Confrontation is intimacy, it’s connection, and it’s knowing that you’re part of something much bigger. It also, I think, makes people less self-involved. It hammers home a sense of community as well. Going out is extremely important for all those reasons.

As part of the collaboration, you hosted a party in Peckham where every guest brought an elder family member or friend. How was that night?

It was amazing. I feel like that setup should be something that we do more often. Some of my elder family members are probably better at partying than even I am, so there’s always a thing or two to be learned. 

What’s next after tour?

I’m going on holiday, and then I’ve already started a new record, so I’m going to be working on that when I get back. I’m planning to release music soon again, and to produce in a very different way to before. 

Would you say that Juniper was consolidating your sound, and now you’re ready to push its boundaries even more?

I personally think the production on Juniper is so sick. I’m just excited that I could have easily been an artist, after Skin, that became guessable, and I didn’t. I decided to do my own thing and experiment. I’m excited to see how much more I can discover about my music arsenal and the landscape that I’m building for myself, just how far my production will go. There’s stuff that I’ve been doing recently where I’m singing differently, or the way my vocal is recorded is really not what I’m used to. It’s super exciting. I think the more out of my depth I feel, the better with this newer stuff. It feels like it’s evolving.