
Joy Oladokun was driven to pick up the guitar when she was 10 years old after seeing a video of Tracy Chapman performing “Fast Car” solo at Wembley Stadium in 1988.
With her new record Proof of Life, the alt-folk guitarist and singer-songwriter wrestles with mortality and change, and emerges triumphant and hopeful.
“It’s nice here,” Joy Oladokun says through the phone. “The mountains are beautiful.” The 31-year-old Nashville-based guitarist and singer-songwriter is taking a moment to breathe and clear her head in Asheville, North Carolina, while on tour with her friend Noah Kahan. Touring is fun, especially with pals, but it’s also tiring and stressful. Oladokun is doing her best to stay balanced since the release of her fourth LP, the lush, hopeful Proof of Life. The record indulges the best bits of pop, R&B, indie rock, and folk, all sewn together with Oladokun’s defiant optimism and vulnerable, late-night-diary-entry songwriting.
Proof of Life, too, is a balancing act, swaying expertly between subdued acoustic ballads, plush, swooning electronics, and heady electric guitar churns. It’s clear about the state of the world: “Newspaper says the world’s on fire / People yelling and the water’s rising,” Oladokun sings in cool harmony over calming acoustics on track two, “Changes,” before submitting at the chorus’ end, “I’m trying to keep up with the changes.” But opener “Keeping The Light On” is a breezy, textured mission statement to always make one’s way back out of the darkness. The third track, “Taking Things For Granted,” is a humming, light-footed indie-rock jam that recounts Oladokun’s lonely 8th birthday, when no one from school came to her party. It’s a real-life, heartbreaking memory, relayed over a beachy-road-trip arrangement. These are the huge, existential places Oladokun takes us with her voice and her guitar just in that trio of opening songs.
“This record is as autobiographical as anything I’ve ever made,” says Oladokun. “It’s actually me this time, it’s not a bunch of songs about ideas. Are people gonna like me?”
Joy Oladokun - "We’re All Gonna Die"
Oladokun admits it’s frightening to be this vulnerable, especially when, at this stage in her career, she has voices around her telling her how she ought to create her art. But the specificity is paying off. On tour, people are expressing how meaningfully her songs capture and validate even their own experiences. “That’s the ultimate goal for me,” Oladokun says.
Oladokun’s artistic path has taken her across North America, on stages with John Mayer and My Morning Jacket, but the road can be traced back to one turning point when she was growing up in Casa Grande, Arizona. She was only allowed to watch TV on weekends, when her father would go to Blockbuster to rent a video. When Oladokun was 10, he screened a DVD of Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday celebration at Wembley Stadium, and at a point during the festivities, Tracy Chapman walked onstage and performed “Fast Car,” with just her and her guitar in front of tens of thousands of people.
“It’s actually me this time, it’s not a bunch of songs about ideas. Are people gonna like me?”
To this day, the performance is arresting and gut-turning in the best ways, crackling with tension and desperation. It was the first time Oladokun remembers seeing a Black queer woman on television, and not only that, but Chapman was alone, vulnerable, and changing entire worlds with her song. “I had a feeling that I belonged / I had a feeling I could be someone,” Chapman belts in the chorus. For many listeners, it was simply a great pop song. For Oladokun, it was liberating.
That clip was “the gateway drug” for Oladokun, who begged her parents for a guitar that Christmas. They bought her an acoustic, and she went from a socially anxious kid who didn’t show interest in much to a committed guitar student. In small-town Arizona, guitar was one of the few things that lit Oladokun’s candle. “They couldn’t get me to do my homework to save their lives,” she says. “But I would sit in my room and play guitar for four or five hours every night.”
Joy Oladokun's Gear
For her new record, Joy Oladokun took a more autobiographical approach to lyricism, crafting songs that share different intimate, personal portraits of her life.
Photo by Lauren Schorr
Effects
- Jam Pedals Wahcko
- Mesa/Boogie Grid Slammer
- JAM Pedals RetroVibe
- Chase Bliss Audio Automatone CXM 1978
- Gamechanger Audio Third Man Records Plasma Coil
Strings
- D'Addario NYXL (.009–.046)
First up, she learned the riff to Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song,” and stretched her fingers so she could play power chords more clearly. Her parents’ great music tastes nudged her toward Nigerian guitarists like King Sunny Adé, whose music imparted deep appreciations for rhythm and syncopation alongside technical skill. Simon and Garfunkel, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Nina Simone, and even Genesis were played around the house, but perhaps the most significant influence came from the church, and the gospel music Oladokun heard and sang there.
“I grew up listening to a lot of music that was purpose-driven,” she says. “Everything that I listened to and my parents listened to, they were talking about the world and revolutions and stuff.”
“They couldn’t get me to do my homework to save their lives. But I would sit in my room and play guitar for four or five hours every night.”
Oladokun self-released her first EP in 2015, followed the next year by a full-length. Her 2020 followup, in defense of my own happiness (the beginnings), yielded syncs on This Is Us, Grey’s Anatomy, and The L Word: Generation Q, all of which laid the groundwork for her to sign with Amigo Records and Verve Forecast Records for her 2021 breakout in defense of my own happiness. The record, which featured a co-write and appearance by pop country titan Maren Morris, expressed itself in broad, universal terms, dissecting anti-Black violence, religion, and being queer in America. She’s said that she wrote the album’s closer, “jordan,” the day she decided to come out herself. In December 2022, she performed the song on the lawn of the White House as part of a celebration of the signing of the Respect for Marriage Act, which requires that all states recognize same-sex marriages.
Before the performance, she had a moment where she booted everyone from her dressing room, and just looked at herself in the mirror—a practice her therapist encouraged. “When I was a young Black queer kid in Arizona, I don’t know that I could’ve imagined a world where I would be invited to perform on the White House lawn to celebrate same-sex marriage. It was really emotional and powerful. I tried to embrace as much of the significance of the day as I could because I also know that things like that are a lifeline for queer people around the world.”
Joy Oladokun’s music weaves between alt-folk, indie-rock, and pop, and on her fourth full-length, she invited friends like Chris Stapleton and Manchester Orchestra’s Andy Hull to fill out the sound.
Oladokun came up with the title for Proof of Life one day when she was sitting in her studio, looking at all the instruments and knickknacks lining the room. “I started morbidly thinking about what would happen to them after I die,” she chuckles lightly.
“For me, ‘proof of life’ was like a way of saying, ‘What is singular about my existence right now, and what connects me to the rest of this planet?’” Oladokun continues. The songs on Proof of Life became vehicles to explore those threads, “and doing it in a way that 100 years from now, if someone found my album, they would have a pretty good understanding of who I was, what I had been through, and what I believed about life.”
Oladokun says she conceptualized the bulk of the record’s 13 songs in her attic studio at home, then enlisted Mike Elizondo and Ian Fitchuk to produce some of them. But Oladokun produced a good chunk herself, renting Electric Lady Studios and inviting her friends to contribute. Across the record, guest spots from Chris Stapleton, Manchester Orchestra’s Andy Hull, and Mt. Joy add extra color and dimensions. Oladokun says it was an exercise in learning to contribute and how musicians can lift one another up.
“When I was a young Black queer kid in Arizona, I don’t know that I could’ve imagined a world where I would be invited to perform on the White House lawn to celebrate same-sex marriage.”
Right through to its close, Proof of Life ripples with big-picture tension and energy, but they’re perhaps the most pronounced and direct on “We’re All Gonna Die,” which opens with howling violins before switching gears to a macabre, anthemic indie pop rock banger. “We’re over our heads so I’ll say it out loud / We’re all gonna die trying to figure it out,” Oladokun calls on the chorus. Her pal Kahan takes the mic on the second verse: “I’m pissin’ in the dark and hopin’ I hit the bowl / I’m afraid of what I can’t control,” he groans.
Making the record and performing the tracks live has pulled Oladokun into a more open dynamic conversation with her guitars. Sure, she can do the tender, Chapman-style singer-songwriter routine as well as any of them. But on tour recently, she and her band have been ripping “Smells Like Teen Spirit” right after the heavy racial reckoning of “I See America.” By the time the solo in “Teen Spirit” comes, it feels like an explosion of emotion. “It’s like this expression of all the sadness and frustration that those songs represent to me,” says Oladokun. “I’m gonna get on the acoustic guitar and give you a clean version of ‘Keeping The Light On,’ but I’m also gonna take the solos at the end of ‘We’re All Gonna Die.’ To me, [performing both styles] gets the message across in a different way than if I delegated [those parts] to someone else.”
On Proof of Life, Oladokun isn’t a pessimist, but she is a realist. The record tells us that we can and must find joy and peace and community, but the trouble is that we have to do so knowing that not a single one of us is here forever. It’s hard work to keep your footing knowing that everything changes, and everything goes away. But if you can find something to help steady yourself, hold onto it. “One thing that I feel really proud of that hasn’t changed,” says Oladokun, “is that I love playing guitar more than any single thing in the entire world.”YouTube It
Joy Oladokun and her band groove through a perfectly restrained, airtight rendition of “Somebody Like Me” on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.
In this episode of 100 Guitarists, we’re talking all things surf rock, from reverb to tremolo picking and much more. And while “Misrlou” is undisputedly his most influential work, maybe Dale’s best records didn’t come until a few decades later.
“All the kids in all L.A. / Come to hear Dick Dale play,” or so goes the title track from Dick Dale’s Wrecking Crew-heavy 1963 album, King of the Surf Guitar. Immodest though it might seem to proclaim such a status, he was indeed at the top of the heap.
For many, Dale’s legend precedes him. His sound, first heard in a So Cal beach ballroom, created the surf guitar vocabulary and transformed the guitar universe, starting with the 1962 release of his take on the traditional song “Misrlou.” Ever the showman, he worked closely with Leo Fender developing the right gear for the gig as he played his ripping instrumentals to larger and larger audiences. He also inspired a Hendrix lyric and had a late-career renaissance thanks to Quentin Tarantino.
In this episode of 100 Guitarists, we’re talking all things surf rock, from reverb to tremolo picking and much more. And while “Misrlou” is undisputedly his most influential work, maybe Dale’s best records didn’t come until a few decades later.
This episode is sponsored byTraveler Guitar.
An easy guide to re-anchoring a loose tuning machine, restoring a “lost” input jack, refinishing dinged frets, and staunching a dinged surface. Result: no repair fees!
This late-’90s Masterbilt was made to mimic the feeling and look of vintage luxury.
This collaborative effort between Japanese and American guitar builders aimed for old-school quality without breaking the bank.
I recently called a rideshare to pick me up from the airport and was surprised when the driver pulled up in a Jaguar. I’d never been in one and was stunned at how quiet it was, and how the backseat was as comfortable as a living room couch, but retained a refined look. This 1998 Masterbilt prototype reminds me of that airport ride.
Some guitars just feel expensive. Not in an “I shouldn't be touching this, lest I scratch it” way so much as simply exuding luxury. Maybe it’s the flawless ebony fretboard, making gliding up and down the neck feel like ice skating. Or perhaps it’s the slim, ’60s-style neck shape which felt instantly comfortable in my small hands. It may have something to do with the sumptuously low 2/32" action at the 12th fret, requiring hardly any effort to play.
Makes sense, considering this guitar’s origin story. Mac Yasuda was born in Nishinomiya, Japan. At 15, he discovered the music of Hank Snow and fell in love with country music and the guitar itself. He stole a classical guitar from his cousin (“He never played it,” said Yasuda) and started a band with his friends. Yasuda traveled to the States in the ’70s and after picking up his first vintage guitar from a pawn shop, he was hooked. He began scoping out gear for his friends, which eventually grew into a shop called Mac’s Guitar Gallery in Kobe, Japan. By the ’90s, he estimated he had owned between 4,000 and 5,000 instruments, and his collection was valued at $3 million. He has authored several books about vintage guitars and is widely considered one of the world's preeminent authorities on the subject.
Yasuda is also an accomplished musician. While in Nashville in the ’80s—perhaps for one of the half-dozen times he’s performed on theGrand Ole Opry—he met Greg Rich, an instrument designer who was then head of Gibson’s banjo division. Yasuda enlisted Greg Rich and another guitar maker named Mark Taylor to produce a line of high-quality, vintage-style instruments under the name Masterbilt. “Vintage guitars are fine, but they're limited,” said Yasuda at the time. His Masterbilt guitars would give us mere mortals the chance to get a taste of the luxurious feel of a fine vintage instrument. Masterbilt debuted at NAMM in 1997, and it’s still unknown how many guitars were actually produced. The trademark of the Masterbilt name was cancelled in 2005 and has since been used by other brands, like Epiphone.
“Some folks think anything from the ’80s or before is vintage, but perhaps the fact that time has continued to march on should be factored in.”
Fanny's House of Music believes this guitar to be an early prototype, one of six ever made. Three were sunburst and three were natural. Playing it feels like playing any fine vintage 335; funny when you consider that at 27 years old, some would consider this Masterbilt vintage itself. The notion of what is considered truly “vintage” is hotly debated on Reddit every few months. Some folks think anything from the ’80s or before is vintage, but perhaps the fact that time has continued to march on should be factored in. Some guitars from the ’80s are now 45 years old! We consider guitars from the ’90s to be vintage at this point, so this 1998 Masterbilt prototype fits right in.
This Masterbilt is now 27 years old. In your books, does that make it a “vintage” guitar?
Photo by Madison Thorn
It’s a good example of how history and passion can intersect to create something special. This guitar tells a story of dedication to quality and an appreciation for the feel of a well-made instrument. Whether or not a 27-year-old guitar qualifies as “vintage” may be up for debate, but the magic in this guitar definitely isn’t. If you’re ever in Nashville, stop by Fanny’s and take it for a spin. You might find yourself feeling a bit like I felt after my unexpected ride in a Jaguar: getting a glimpse into the world of understated elegance, where refinement isn't about flash but about experiencing something crafted to near perfection.
SOURCES: namm.com, Los Angeles Times, Blue Book of Guitar Values, Vintage Guitar, Guitar-List.
Unleash your inner metal icon with the Jackson Lee Malia LM-87, a high-performance shred-ready axe designed in collaboration with Bring Me The Horizon guitarist Lee Malia. Featuring custom Jackson signature pickups, a fast D-profile neck, and a TOM-style bridge for rock-solid stability, this signature model is a must-have for commanding metal tone and smooth playability.
British metal icon and Bring Me The Horizon guitarist Lee Malia has partnered with Jackson to create his signature LM-87, a shred-ready axe built for heavy riffing and alternative modern metal. As a founding member and lead guitarist of the Grammy-nominated band, Malia is renowned for his aggressive playing style and intricate solos. This high-performance guitar matches his demanding musicality.
With its offset Surfcaster™ body shape and vintage appeal, the LM-87 melds classic design with modern appointments. The thin open pore finish on the bound Okoume body and neck exudes organic style, while the unique 3-ply pickguard and chrome hardware add striking accents. The fast D-profile 3- piece okoume neck allows smooth riffing across the bound amaranth fingerboard.
Custom Jackson signature pickups, including a bridge humbucker with push-pull coil-split, equip the LM-87 with versatile tone-shaping options to fulfill Malia's sonic vision. The TOM-style bridge with anchored tailpiece and fine tuners provides rock-solid stability for low tunings and heavy picking.
Designed in close collaboration with the legendary guitarist, the Jackson Lee Malia LM-87 is built for shredding. Its blend of vintage vibe and high-performance features make this signature model a must-have for players who value commanding metal tone and smooth playability.
The Tune-o-matic bridge with an anchored tailpiece and fine tuners offers enhanced tuning stability and precise, incremental adjustments. This setup ensures consistent pitch control, improved sustain, and easier fine-tuning without affecting overall string tension.
The guitar’s three-piece set-neck guitar with graphite reinforcement offers exceptional strength, stability, and resistance to warping. The multi-piece construction enhances sustain and tonal clarity, while the graphite reinforcement adds extra durability and prevents neck shifting due to humidity or temperature changes. This design ensures a solid, reliable performance with improved resonance and longevity.
Features Include:
- Okoume body
- Three-piece okoume set neck construction with graphite reinforcement
- 12"-16" compound radius amaranth fingerboard
- 3-ply pickguard
- Chrome hardware
- Custom wound Jackson LM-87 pickups
- Volume with push-pull coil-split and tone control
- TOM-style bridge with anchored tailpiece and fine tuners
- Gig bag included
The Jackson LM-87 carries a street price of $899.99.
For more information, please visit jacksonguitars.com.