Sometimes, when you’re not ready to admit something to yourself, it comes out in other ways; bawling in the middle of a rom-com, listening to the same Phoebe Bridgers song on repeat, or reposting cryptic quotes on Substack about relationships ending or the meaning of life.
For artist and songwriter, Jilian Medford - a.k.a IAN SWEET, this phenomenon came in the form of writing an entire album that ended up prophesying the end of her relationship and a move back to her hometown of Los Angeles. While she may not have known it at the time, writing Shiverstruck served as a key to self-awareness and the freedom that comes therewith, ultimately leading her to one of the happiest places she’s ever been.
But that didn’t come without the growing pains of loneliness, isolation, and self-criticism that often precede a big breakthrough; and that’s where Shiverstruck lives.
“I feel like I’m in such a good place talking about the record and doing all the press,” says Medford, “but if I was talking about where I was at when I was making the record, it was so different…I really attribute making this record to helping me realize what I needed.”
Medford explains that her Shiverstruck era was one of the loneliest in her life. She was two years into living in New York City, where she moved for a relationship. But as many romances built on sweeping gestures do, this one started to show its cracks when her always-working partner left her feeling deeply isolated.
“I was just not a priority whatsoever…being with someone who can’t give you something… you really have to look inward for those comforts and being loved,” Medford says.
“I moved to a new place for that relationship and then was alone a lot in this big city and feeling pretty lost. And just like very small. And having to connect the dots and connect with myself again.”
You can hear the dots starting to connect on the record’s first track, “987.” Stripped down to nothing but guitar and vocals, Medford guides us through a masterclass in introspection:
“You’re sleepwalking / you’re so tired / made a mess of it all / you’re the girl in the wreckage / always knew the ending / You let the whole damn world in through your bedroom window / not so long ago / and wonder why you’re not so strong anymore”
In this song, Medford takes responsibility for some of the damage she has caused and choices she’s made, but refuses to self-abandon. She explains she’s talking to herself and the message is clear: “You’re the one causing the chaos here, you’re causing the spiral, you’re not fully taking accountability.
Once you start taking accountability, your whole world will open up,” Medford muses. “Through writing those songs, my heart has opened up and softened towards myself…I’m my own worst enemy and I really want to stop being that. Because I’m truly all I have at the end of the day.”
The rest of the album unfolds in a series of similar ruminations, but not all are set to the same sad tune. “Criminal Kissing” gives us a fun, sexy daydream about rekindling with a former lover - a funny thing to write while still in the midst of a very real relationship.
This is where the breadcrumbs to the breakup start, and the trail gets longer and longer as the album continues. If “Silver Screen” tells Medford that she’s ready to move home before she admits it to herself - Lately I’ve been missing the california rain / watching the windshield wipers wash the pain away - then “Jilian” solidifies that inkling:
Baby I’ve got those big city blues / the kind that lingers like bad news / and hangs over your head like the moon / Jilian, go on and tell him that you’re sick of it / sad singer such an idiot / bad sex and cigarettes / oh it’s a cruel world you’re living in
Medford’s voice shines as brightly as her lyrics throughout the record, which is just how she wanted it.
She recounts how she spent many years covering up her vocals, using lush production as a shield against vulnerability. “So, I just intentionally set out on this…I wanted my voice to really be the star,”
Medford says. “I wanted to sing at the top of my lungs. That’s my love, that’s my passion — to sing. I wanted it to feel very raw and in the forefront and to push myself out of my comfort zone.”
We see this vulnerability throughout the record, but especially in the intimate production of “987” and “Speed Demon” and the belt-y choruses on “Jilian” and “Silver Screen.”
She’s not holding anything back, and her vocals are delivered with the rawness and self-assuredness of someone who is pulling the wool back from their own eyes. “The album was very much searching and sifting through a lot of messiness and chaos to find more of a clear path forward for me,” Medford recounts.
From that chaos came eight tracks of lyrical and melodic gold that anybody going through a purgatorial period of transition can deeply relate to. And while each of these songs delves into the sticky and unpleasant feelings that come with loneliness and uncertainty, Medford is a shining example of the inevitability of coming out the other end, armed with a brighter perspective and deep understanding of the self.
It’s a reminder that no matter how lost we feel, we always hold the map to find our way back.
Listen to Shiverstruck and catch IAN SWEET on tour in October.