Jessica Riddle

She’s 19 years old. She writes and sings her own songs. But if you expect Jessica Riddle to dish out typical teen-queen pop fluff or precious folkie musingswell, you’ve got another thing coming. Riddle’s debut album, Key Of A Minor, blasts through the age barrier to explore deeper truths. It celebrates the restless energy of a talented young artist, yet it also packs a fierce element of surprise: behind the album’s tenacious pop appeal, Riddle’s songs draw their power from a darker place.

“I love songs that are unpredictable,” she says. “You think that the song’s going to go up, but it goes down. You expect it to go right, and instead it goes left. Each song needs a little bit of shock value. The songs can be humorous or sarcastic, but usually they get their edge by being very personal and just telling the truth. A lot of times, the simple truth can be shocking enough.”

Even at its most optimistic, the album possesses a provocative edge. The upbeat “I Want You” is spiked with explicit desire, and “Symphony” blends funked-up grooves with freaked-out orchestral sweeps. In contrast, “Even Angels Fall” shows Riddle comfortably tackling bittersweet subjects, while a cover version of the Replacements’ “Sadly Beautiful” demonstrates her ability to take a classic and make it her own.

But the true measure of Riddle’s talent is found in her bruisingly eloquent original songs that dig through the twisted wreckage of personal and family relationships. The surrealistic standout “I’m Sorry” began as “a sarcastic, humorous song,” says Riddle. “It was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but by the time I got to the second verse it started hitting a little too close to home.” Even more harrowing, “Your Girl” makes no attempt to hide its personal angle. “I’m ‘your girl’” Riddle admits; “I was venting after my parents’ divorce, and the song came out on its own.”

Through 11 songs, the album showcases Riddle’s incisive songwriting, vocals and piano playingand also features adventurous sonic touches. Riddle experimented at every opportunity, and composer David Campbell’s extraordinary string arrangements transform songs like “Symphony,” “Gone,” and the epic “Indifference.”

At its core, Key Of A Minor documents a compelling, often painful coming-of-

age story. Born April 15, 1980 in Los Angeles, Riddle cites a wide range of musical influences from Cat Stevens and the Beatles to Carole King and James Taylor. But her biggest inspiration was her father, a folk-oriented singer/songwriter who encouraged Riddle to make music as a child. “I’ve heard him singing ever since I was in the womb,” she laughs. “When I was little, he would give me, my sister and my brother some microphones and we’d dance around and sing, but he never pushed us. My dad was worried that we’d be consumed by the business, so he insisted that music be fun.”

Playing piano is one of Riddle’s earliest memories, sitting as a toddler next to her father and emulating his playing, long before her feet came close to reaching the pedals. Rather than taking formal lessons (except for 6 months worth as an 8-year-old) she taught herself to play, motivated by the sheer joy of it. “I played every day, and loved it. I never thought of it as work. And you know what? I still love it. My piano is my best friend. No matter what kind of day I’ve had, it always accepts me and makes me feel better.”

But her family life was far from idyllic. After years of turmoil, Riddle’s parents divorced when Jessica was 13, and her stormy relationship with her father grew increasingly tense until it stopped altogether. Amid the pain, Riddle found sanctuary in several places. She excelled in sports, and played on her high school softball and volleyball teams. She also wrestled, competing against and regularly beating boys in her weight division. For Riddle, being part of a team effort, with its shared sense of companionship and commitment, filled a deep craving. Even though she credits her mom’s tireless support (“She encouraged me to follow my dreams,” says Jessica; “she doesn’t realize how strong she actually is”), Riddle needed the familial support of her teammates in order to thrive.

The raw experiences of her adolescence also fueled Riddle’s music. She began seriously writing songs at age 14, soon after her parents split up. “At first, I wrote a lot of dorky songs I mean, these were songs about stuff like shoes and boyfriends. You have to get through the dorkiness to get to the maturity. And then I started writing songs that really meant something to me. It’s tempting to make fun of people who write about themselves,” she nods, “but you’ve got to write about what you know. The key is to write from a realistic, personal perspective that’s relevant to other people. If I couldn’t be honest in my music and show my true personality, then it would all be a lie. It would be nothing poof, it would be all gone.

In late 1997 Riddle began recording tracks in a Los Angeles studio with producer Kim Bullard, and many of these songs would become the basis of her debut album. She signed to Hollywood Records in November,1998 and completed Key Of A Minor with producers Julian Raymond, Rob Cavallo and Kim Bullard.

With her new album in hand, and a four-piece band to help her bring her music directly to audiences around the country, Jessica Riddle is now ready to move forward in her creative journey. Yet she admits that she still carries the strong imprint of past experiences some bad, some good. The key to survival is recognizing that tough times can provide a catalyst for building inner strength.

“You know what?” she asks with an ironic smile. “The most important thing I learned from my dad was this: he told me to shut my eyes when I was playing piano. If I peeked, he’d turn off the lights. I remember playing with my eyes shut for the first time. I really felt the music, and it became a totally different experience. And I’ve been playing that way ever since. Even when my eyes are open, inwardly, I play as if they’re closed. The piano becomes a vessel, and I can just pour myself into it. The piano ends up playing me. It’s funny how that works. You just have to let it happen.”