Q&A With Musician TJ Douglas

Have you ever bought a record just for the artwork?

When I was maybe 10 years old, I saw RAM at a vinyl street fair. I was a Beatles fanatic but didn’t know Paul’s solo stuff yet. I don’t primarily experience the world visually—I move more through intuition and sound. So I don’t have many memories of being drawn to something for purely visual reasons, especially a record. But this memory is an exception. I loved the bright yellow background and the rough-hewn, hand-drawn title and border. The young romantic in me felt seen and inspired by the collage of Paul and Linda’s adventurous love, with the journal-like drawings and handwriting around the edges. I haven’t thought about this in years, but it makes sense now, given my own aesthetics of intimacy and imperfection.

What is your most memorable vinyl buying/receiving experience?

I think I have to say getting my own music pressed onto vinyl for the first time, in 2013 for my record Summer Valentine. My now-wife, then-girlfriend Gracie and I picked them up from the pressing plant in Bay Ridge, then headed out on a month-long, self-booked tour down to New Orleans and back in her parents’ ’90s minivan. We were in our early twenties, sleeping in the van and selling records every night. It was one of the first big moments in what’s become this public musical life for me.

Who/what got you hooked on records?

When I was a young kid, I found my deepest solace in the safety and expansiveness of my inner world, and in music. These were the places where I felt the whole of me—with all its different notes and changing time signatures—could safely dissolve, be held, or both.

Part of that was my mom’s record collection, which she gave me in three big cardboard boxes from the attic when I was about 10, right around the time my deepest anxiety around being trans, without any language for it, was taking root. I set up my parents’ old record player in my room, put on headphones, and spent hours moving through those records—Magical Mystery Tour, Another Side of Bob Dylan, The Harder They Come, Graceland, Aretha Franklin’s Greatest Hits. I listened to them over and over and felt my confusion evaporate—or at least be blessed as somehow correct—by these artists who lived and sang between worlds.

Tell us a little about your favorite record store.

My favorite record store is also a bookstore. It’s called Bruised Apple Books, and it’s right where I live in Peekskill, New York. I’ve only lived here for six years, but as far as I know, Bruised Apple has been here forever. It’s legendary and humble at the same time. It feels like a magical realm: shelves of thoughtfully curated used books and vinyl. I almost never leave empty-handed.

What’s the weirdest record you own?

A cool little 7-inch called Sounds of the Sea. We found it in a thrift store off Route 1 in Maine, where I’m from. It’s mostly ambient recordings of waves, but underneath are these strange little bits of humming and sea shanties sung under someone’s breath. It’s weird, and wonderful. We actually sampled one of those shanties in the opening seconds of my song “The Same Thing” from my 2017 record Our Ladystar of the Sea, Help and Protect Us.

What’s the last record you played?

Revolver, because my three-year-old is obsessed. He recently graduated from Abbey Road. When I was a kid, I was equally obsessed with the Beatles—I used to make my friends come over for “Beatles school” and do insufferable things like that. My wife was the same. Her parents used to play The White Album while she was in her crib, and she’d cry until they flipped the record over. Don’t get me wrong—we’d love our kid just as much if he weren’t a Beatles fan. But it’s pretty great to finally have someone to sing the third harmony.

What one record in your collection would you be most eager to share with new friends?

Kathy Heideman’s Move With Love. It’s a forgotten record from the ’70s that was rediscovered and reissued by Numero Group. I picked it up from them at a pop-up in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, back in 2014. It’s this airy folk record where somehow every song is a bop.

Do you have a definitive album of choice for spring, summer, autumn and winter?

Spring: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea — Neutral Milk Hotel

Summer: Bloom — Beach House

Autumn: Nina Simone and Piano — Nina Simone

Winter: Sugar Still Melts in the Rain — Sarah Mary Chadwick

New York-based singer and songwriter TJ Douglas has been steadily releasing music for the past couple of decades. 2024 saw the release of their most recent album Dying, and in November 2025 a single, “Parts of You”, was released as a companion piece. Now, TJ is back with two new tracks - “Joseph, It’s Me” and “Be Longing” - that revisit their 2015 album Joey a decade later, with the same band who played on that record, including reuniting with old friend and producer Andrew Lappin (Lucy Dacus, L’Rain, Cassandra Jenkins).

TJ on Bandcamp