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No Ordinary Jo
Her beauty is beyond compare. Her singing's not bad either. She's Jolene Reynolds. And with a name like that, how can the girl fail to be a star?
She is a multi-talented young woman of Now, in the most multimedia sense. Not a sh-It Girl in the tedious toff mode so beloved of UK tabloids, but part of a long tradition of unique females who have successfully married a self-made 'uptown' kind of glam with a 'downtown' type of grittiness: Edie Sedgwick in the early '60s, Debbie Harry in the late '70s, Madonna Ciccone in the early '80s, Chloe Sevigny in the late '90s... the ones with a different sort of beauty and brains. But Jo Reynolds, aka Jolene - singer, model, musician and all-round fingers-in-many-pies person - is not based in New York, nor was she even born in the USA. She originally hails from Winkfield near Reading, ordinary middle-England territory, little known for spawning anything more cutting-edge than keenly trimmed lawns and hedges.At 27 years of age, Jo is currently here, there and fashion-and-music everywhere. For starters, she can be seen peering out from glossy magazine pages via the Spring/Summer 2001 Jil Sander advertising campaign, shot by esteemed photographer Craig McDean and styled by i-D Fashion Director Edward Enninful. "She's incredible," says McDean, "very articulate, very beautiful and just inspiring. She's one of the most amazing people I’ve ever photographed - not a typical model, but a woman with so many interesting qualities about her. I definitely want to work with her again." Jo is much in demand from other of the fashion world's biggest of international wigs, too - keen to capture her face, body and aura for recent shoots in high-profile titles such as Citizen K, Interview, Japanese Vogue and Italian Vogue (a 22-page homage to her own look in the latter titled 'JR Starry Style').
So, whatever that difficult-to-define ‘look' for the times is, Jo has it in abundance. Her face is distinctive: pale and fragile, yet simultaneously perky and knowing; her eyebrows were long ago shaved off; her tousled, dyed blond hair resembles the Debbie Harry barnet of Blondie-yore. Sarah Murray at Darling casting and production agency, which represents Jo in the UK, defines her appeal thus: "She has great personal style and she's an incredible modern beauty. Jo's more than a model, she's a personality with lots of things going on in her life - an interesting busy bee."
But more importantly to Jo herself, in between these myriad fashiony goings-on - fascinating, creative though they are - is the writing and recording of her own music, under the moniker Jolene (a project she started three years ago, before you say 'Caprice"), with production assistance from her boyfriend Stuart Price, aka Jacques Lu Cont of Les Rythmes Digitales and Zoot Woman fame. Talking of which, she has also toured globally with LRD over the past year or so, dressed up to the nines and strumming a MIDI guitar with all the aplomb of an updated Wendy O Williams. Donatella Versace is a huge fan of the band, inviting them to play on the catwalk during her New York Versus show at Roselands Ballroom in late 1999, while Steven Meisel is about to shoot Jo for a Versus campaign.
A first meeting with Jo - slotted in among her various castings, recording and rehearsal sessions - takes place on a grey winter morning in the cosy Maida Vale flat she and Stuart call home. The twosome were originally introduced by fashion designer Fee Doran (who has styled and designed clothes for Stuart in both his LRD and Zoot Woman ventures) and they initially became great friends, then worked together for a year, prior to becoming a full-on loved-up item. Unsurprisingly, their living room bears all the signs of a couple immersed in some of popular culture's finest moments: original framed artwork from Factory Records and a mirrored replica of Roxy Music's For Your Pleasure album cover lines the walls; fax machines, cameras, laptops, CDs are strewn and piled aloft on the floor. In the corner crouches their huge 'pet', a Jeff Koons-like ceramic dog named Jacob.
Upstairs, Stuart is conducting a telephone interview with a German magazine. Meanwhile, comfy on the sofa, sipping tea, sporting a charity shop cerise jumper and faded Marc Jacobs jeans, Jo - who has, as usual, been up since the crack of dawn - begins by describing her childhood. "It was brilliant," she says, with a smile. "We were a typical working class family and I had a very outdoorsy, happy and healthy sort of childhood. I never really watched television because I always preferred to be up at six o'clock and out and about doing things: looking after our pet dogs, hamsters and guinea pigs, and riding horses that a lady who lived nearby owned."
Once her teenage years set in, Jo - like most perfectly sensible female youngsters - took to sporting very high heels, short skirts and hanging around on street corners in the neighbouring new town of Bracknell. "I was searching for something, some excitement," she shrugs. "But it wasn't really there - it seems insane now to have wasted so much time like that." A long-established interest in appearance and style ("I would even 'style' the horses with nice rugs and things") as well as music prompted Jo to head for the bright lights of London clubland in her late teens. "I was always compelled by the idea of being on stage. I was always into pop stars and music," she ponders. “I always knew I wanted to perform myself, but didn't realise it was specifically through music until my early twenties."
In the early '90s, Jo Reynolds became a highly individual 'face' on the London club scene. She was a familiar sight: teetering on Westwood stillies, hair shaved off completely (her nickname at the time was, appropriately, 'Bald Jo’) and wearing cleverly stylised charity shop chic. Sporadic modelling work ensued (in The Face and for MTV) and employment as an extra in pop videos (Boy George's Fun Time being one of the best); she did the door at clubs... it was party time alright but also a crucial period of meeting people, cultivating a fierce sense of individuality through style, becoming semi-famous for being semi-famous and laying the groundwork for later projects. Then, gradually "the music got bland, it didn't seem so much fun anymore," she recalls. “People were always moaning - I started to love London one minute then hate it the next."
She packed "a huge suitcase and holdall full of outfits" and in 1994 moved to New York. Alone in the city, she lived at the low-rent Chelsea Hotel and became friends with other young clubbers residing there. Within just three days of her arrival she had been introduced to notorious 'King Of The Club Kids' Michael Alig (now in prison for murdering and chopping up a drug dealer named Angel) and Pete Gatien, owner of The Limelight. “They employed me to work the door at Tunnel, the VIP room at Club USA and do some podium dancing too," Jo elaborates. "I was their token English girl and it was a great time - really creative, nothing to do with designer labels, just dressing up, dying hair, experimenting with make-up... having fun. But it was predictable that it would all go wrong - they were living in a total false reality. They were kids who had a lot of money and power and it ended in disaster for some of them."
Worn out by all the partying, Jo returned to the UK in 1995 and earned a basic crust by wo-manning the doors at Madame Jo-Jo's weekly Playboy night, various Dazed And Confused parties and Cultural Sushi at Browns. This and increasing offers of lucrative styling and make-up work allowed her to pursue her real dream of making music. "I started to plan things - everything else sort of faded into the background. I taught myself to play guitar and began gradually to learn how to write songs. I formed a band with two friends, Windscale (the original name of nuclear power station Sellafield), and I finally felt like I'd found my place." Windscale were quite punkish-sounding, looked excellent and carved out a name for themselves in London, playing small but triumphant gigs in West and East End bars, clubs and parties. Boy George was a fan, as was Ian Dench - ex of @MF - who helped out with sound engineering. Sadly, the obligatory 'musical differences' soon put paid to further progress and their potential was never fully realised. "I cried after the band broke up," Jo admits, "but I knew that I had to move on."
Three days later we meet again, this time in Soho. Jo arrives, looking splendid in a dainty corduroy frock (beige) and pointy Comme des Garçons shoes (white), clutching a crash helmet (red). "I came on Stuart’s scooter," she explains. This morning she has already been for a swim and checked out a yoga class in Primrose Hill. In keeping with this healthy outlook (Jo rarely ventures to clubs anymore, unless of course she's performing in one, plus she no longer smokes and barely drinks: "me and Stuart get tipsy on one glass of wine") the almost-Straight Edger is keen to check out new organic grocery store Fresh & Wild. We browse the plump and misshapen fruit and veg, Jo carefully selecting vine tomatoes, apples and broccoli in addition to marinated tofu and freshly pressed orange juice. Over a coffee - made with soya milk - in the adjoining café, she talks more about her solo music project.
"It's really important to me - I never mind how much time and effort I put into it. The tracks I've been working on are ones I began over three years ago, then I started on them again last summer when Les Rythmes Digitales had finished touring." The tracks themselves - with slightly mysterious titles like Back Again (included on Source's forthcoming Source Lab compilation album), Silent Time and Static - are a world away from the slick power-electronica of LRD. But then, as she readily acknowledges, Jo is definitely no sweaty dance music diva. "I think people might expect me to make more dancey sort of music, because I used to go to a lot of those sort of clubs. But the music I've always loved to listen to is by people like PJ Harvey and Joni Mitchell, Blondie, Neil Young and Fleetwood Mac." Hence this Reynolds girl would rather Fleetwood Mac than Jack (or Jacques?) and these tracks make for a delicate, almost folky - yet sophisticated - guitar-led feel. Jo recorded the guitars, bass and drums on a home computer for her first demos, before later re-recording them in the studio with drummer Tim Marsh and Stuart twiddling the production knobs. "I try to make my lyrics very personal and well thought-out," she says, "but also create some mystery and ambiguity with them."
Various record companies are now sniffing around - there's a palpable buzz. But Jo - who is aiming for "longevity, I really want to make an album that I'm happy with and proud of, that's the ultimate kind of success for me" - is sensibly biding her time, only too aware of the fickle nature of the mainstream music biz. Stuart, who is producing the tracks, will later talk down the phone about the Jolene venture, fiercely proud of her efforts. "Jo is intensely brutal with herself in the studio and has the ability to constantly stand back and re-assess what she's working on, resulting in one of the most honest and beautiful collections of songs I have heard. And with regards to her in LRD, she was the perfect person to join the group as she instantly understood the direction I was taking - the energy and inspiration she added was more than I could have ever imagined." Soon Jolene live shows will be taking place, as a three-piece rock band - she is currently rehearsing with two other musicians for this purpose. "I'll be gigging in May," Jo confirms, all excited. “I’ve got a residency at a bar - I don't want to say where yet - and I want it to be quite low-key, not like a media showcase or anything..."
Jo's mobile rings and she has to leave - there are hasty arrangements to make for a forthcoming Paris trip. The following day we talk some more, attempting to distinguish between and prioritise the whirlwind modelling commitments and music making, not to mention her increasing passion for travel photography. "Modelling has been fun," she says. "Because it’s not my job full-time, I can enjoy a brief fling with it and then I'm usually revived and refreshed to get back to my music. It can be really healthy sometimes to step outside of what you're doing, but I think being a full-time model would be exhausting! It's all a good learning process though, and I get to work with people who I admire and respect." When asked to clarify why she thinks all manner of prestigious photographers, art directors and stylists want to work with her, what her appeal is to them, to us, she pauses. "I think, well...I don't look like a model, yet I do know how to have a picture taken... I can perform to camera. People tend to want me to look pretty much as I do normally anyway, so I think a certain realness comes through - which must make a change to 16-year-old models with no personality."
Before we finally bid goodbye, Jo Reynolds - this oozing-with-creativity, deservedly all-over-the-place woman - admits to two niggling fears. She hopes that if she ever grows her eyebrows back they won't be scarily bushy, making her look like Denis Healy. And she hopes that she'll never have a run-of-the-mill, nine to five job. The former is a possibility. Right now, the latter seems highly unlikely.