We recently connected with Sylvie Jay and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Sylvie , thanks for joining us today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?

Honestly, I don’t have to wonder what it would be like to have a “regular” job—because I do. I work full-time as a pharmaceutical sales rep. My 9–5 supports my 5–9 (or let’s be real, sometimes my 5–1 a.m.) as a recording artist. And I’m genuinely grateful for that balance. I have an incredible team at work and get to meet amazing people, but nothing fills me up the way the arts do.

I trained as a classical singer, actor, and dancer. I went to school for musical theatre and always pictured myself on a Broadway stage or in front of a film crew. But when the world paused during COVID, so did I. I started writing music just to feel something, to process things—and it turned into a lifeline. What I love about songwriting is that no one can tell you “we went with someone else” for the role. No one else gets to be Sylvie Jay. That kind of ownership over my artistry changed everything for me.

Once I stepped into a studio and started working with other artists, something clicked. It felt like all my creative instincts had finally found their home. Music might be my main focus right now, but creativity seeps into every part of my life—I teach dance, paint, crochet plushies, and I’ll totally rearrange a room just to make it feel more inspired.

Sylvie , before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

Hi! I’m Sylvie Jay—an indie artist and songwriter based in Los Angeles. I make music that blends emotional honesty with catchy melodies, often floating between alt-pop, singer-songwriter, and something a little harder to define. Sometimes it’s sad girl synth ballads, sometimes it’s flirty summer bops—but it’s always real, and always me.

I started out in the performing arts world. I went to school for musical theatre and trained as a singer, actor, and dancer, thinking I’d head for Broadway or film. But during the pandemic, everything stopped—and that pause gave me space to discover songwriting. What I loved most was the freedom: no audition panel, no casting choice. Just me, telling my story. No one else could be Sylvie Jay, and that realization gave me a kind of creative ownership I hadn’t felt before.

Since then, I’ve released two projects—Your Loss and Space for Sad Songs—and I’ve been performing throughout LA, building a community of listeners who connect with the honesty in my work. I’m currently promoting my new single “Butterflies,” which drops July 11th—a playful, feel-good track about when a summer fling starts to feel like something more.

By day, I work a full-time 9–5 as a pharmaceutical sales rep. I’m proud of that balance—it allows me to support my art, stay grounded, and engage with the world outside the music bubble. I also teach dance, crochet plushies, paint, and rearrange furniture for fun (I swear it’s a hobby and not a coping mechanism).

If there’s one thing I want people to take away from my work, it’s that you don’t have to fit neatly into a box to be understood. I don’t. And that’s who I write for—the people with big emotions they don’t always know how to deal with. The ones who feel too much, dream too loud, and never quite fit into the tidy molds western society loves to hand out. You’re not too much. You’re just right. And if you’ve ever felt that way—my music’s for you.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I love this question. I often find myself thinking back to moments in history when artists truly thrived—like Renaissance-era Italy, where figures like Michelangelo were not only respected but financially supported by their communities and governments. Those were cultures that understood the deep value of creativity. Somewhere along the way, especially in America, we’ve lost that.

We’ve become so caught up in capitalism and the machine of content that we’ve commodified art to the point where it has to “perform” to be seen as worthy. Corporations have tried to put art into a system with a format—but the truth is, real art doesn’t follow a model. It can’t. And it shouldn’t have to.

To build a thriving creative ecosystem, we need to make a collective choice to value and support artists—not just the lucky few who “make it,” but the ones creating meaningful, personal work in every corner of the country. That looks like funding for the arts, more local performance and exhibition spaces, affordable healthcare and housing for working creatives, and accessible grants and fellowships. But more than policy, it starts with a cultural shift. We need to stop treating art as a luxury and start treating it as the necessity it is.

I want to live in a society where parents aren’t terrified if their kid wants to be an actor or a filmmaker. Where people can explore their creativity without shame or fear of failure. Where we celebrate the work of artists not because it’s profitable, but because it’s powerful. Because it moves us. Because it matters.

Art is viable. It’s valuable. It’s vital. We need music to feel. We need movies to distract us—or confront us. We need paintings, poetry, dance, and design to feed our souls. History has always shown us this. It’s time we stop forgetting.

Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?

At the heart of everything I do, my mission is simple: I want to make music that impacts people. That’s the top priority. Yes, I’d love to go on tour, sell out venues, and see the world through my art—but not for the numbers or the fame. I want to reach people. I want to help them feel less alone in the messiness of life.

So much of what I write is about the complicated, often unspoken emotions we carry—grief, joy, heartbreak, healing. I want my shows to be a safe space where people feel like they can be fully themselves, free of shame or judgment. If someone hears a song of mine and thinks, “Finally, someone gets it,”—then I’ve done what I set out to do.

I’m also a Christian, and my relationship with Jesus is the foundation of my life. It’s my rock. If I’m ever blessed with a platform big enough to share His love with others in an authentic, compassionate way—that would be an honor I truly can’t quantify.

Of course, I have goals too. I keep a bucket list of venues I dream of playing—The Troubadour is one I’d love to start with. Red Rocks is the big dream. And someday, I want to return to my hometown of Youngstown, Ohio and play the amphitheater. There would be something incredibly full-circle about bringing my music back home.

But no matter how far this journey takes me, the mission stays the same: connect, uplift, and be a light wherever I’m planted.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sylviejaymusic/?hl=en
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sylviejaymusic/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jordan-desantis-425a191b6/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@sylviejaymusic
• Other: https://www.tiktok.com/@sylviejaymusic

Image Credits

Photos take by Jessi Gray Photography