Jeanie Crystal: Blood, Sweat, Possession
With raw blues, punk fury, and unapologetic truth, Jeanie’s shows blur the line between ritual and rebellion. As her band Jeanie and The White Boys rise, she talks to us about power, pain, identity, and the beautiful chaos that fuels it all.
Interview & Photography JC Verona Make Up Artist Yasmin Khan Hair Solomon Paramour
I’ve seen Jeanie Crystal take a room apart more than once — at the Shacklewell Arms supporting Luxury Apartments, and more recently alongside the Moonlandingz. What happens on stage isn’t just performance; it’s exorcism. There’s sweat, howling, collapse, communion, and a very real sense that liberation might actually be possible for a few minutes.
This interview happened just after she wrapped her latest tour. As we head toward summer, a season that usually smells like festivals and branding deals, we wanted to talk about something messier: fear, fury, identity, control, and the wild edge where punk and blues still bite.
Let’s start with blood. What broke during this last tour with Moonlandingz, physically, emotionally, or otherwise?
Jeanie: Blood?! Fucking hell, straight in! Well, Jeanie and the White Boys have only been going for 12 months, and it’s quite a strange dynamic shift to suddenly be visible and encourage attention. I’ve seen some ugly sides of people I thought I knew well.
There have been lies, and those lies showed cracks in their love for me — as my role shifted from the girl at the party getting on it to being centre stage, half-naked, screaming my opinions. I suppose it’s a power shift some people didn’t want for me.
In a way, I love it — out with the snakes. But emotionally, nothing breaks me more than being stabbed in the back by a mate or a lover. That’s what I’ve seen breaking… people.
Was there a moment on stage where you lost control — or found something close to possession?
Hahaha — fucking hell, do I look that feral on stage?! Possession??! I mean… I feel like I have a certain summoning power. We all do, when we’re brave enough to let it flow through us. And it’s fucking terrifying. But once you do, it’s addictive.
So yeah — you’re right. It is a kind of possession.
One of my favourite films of all time is Possession — that scene in the underpass (spoiler alert) when she has the alien miscarriage? I think that film perfectly sums up the darkest side of the experience of being womxn.
People say punk is dead. Maybe they just want it to be. What is punk for you?
Punk can’t die. In its purest form, it’s about showing disdain for an unjust society and being vocally anti-establishment. At its roots, it’s an anti-war movement.
We’re so deep into capitalism it’s hard for anything not to be bastardised, but there are still sparks: the queer community, The Dolls, Burkina Faso, Christeene — check her out, she’s genius. My friend Sharon Le Grande and Josh Caffe — two of the best artists in London.
Punk is anyone who defines themselves away from cheap imitation and disposable ideas. It’s about not being afraid to push back against the bizarre society we live in, while expressing yourself with pure fucking individuality. And not being scared to stand alone — or to protect others who share the same ideals.
The last great punk movement for me was the early grime scene. That was culture in real time. Look where it is now? Deals with McDonald’s. Pass the arsenic, please.
“My songs patch up the wounds — otherwise I’d be bleeding out all over the place.”
What are your music inspirations — singers and artists?
Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, Lux Interior, Eartha Kitt, Shirley Bassey, Wanda Jackson, Billie Holiday, Brenda Lee, Connie Francis, Karen Dalton.
Your band is called Jeanie and The White Boys — it’s hilarious, subversive, and loaded. Where did that name come from, and what are you really messing with?
You know what it’s about. You know what I’m messing with. Power.
Punk today often feels like dress-up for the algorithm. How do you keep yours full of bite?
I think it has to do with my upbringing. My parents describe themselves as "gutter class" — ha! They really had to fight to get a piece, you know? Even just for people to accept their love — a Black woman and a white man.
From a kid, my dad especially taught me how to love people without judgment, how to party and be joyous, how to joke and laugh — he really showed me how to love life. But he also taught me how to fight, protect myself and others, and never let anyone mug me off.
So I suppose that comes out in my songwriting. Violence is necessary sometimes.
Your music isn’t just punk — it’s bluesy, wounded, even sensual. Do you feel like rage and sadness come from the same place?
I’ve seen a lot of death. By the time I was 12, I’d been to about 14 funerals. One every year. Then the big one came — my mother suddenly died. My whole family died that day, really, from the shock. It’s still so tragic.
Life is fragile. When people cheapen it — when friends use you or backstab you — then you look at the world stage… how can you not get angry?! Life is bleak anyway. You already know you’ll have to deal with loss and rejection, then there’s another load of divs trying to make it worse.
Of course rage and sadness come from the same place. When you’re let down, the anger comes from why, the sadness is accepting it.
My songs patch up the wounds — otherwise I’d be bleeding out all over the place. And then they’d take me to the stocks and leave me there as an example. We couldn’t have that now, could we? That would be a disservice to my ancestors.
What do you love about music?
It kinda overwhelms me to think about it. Hahaha. Like I need 10,000 words.
“I either want to be adored or detested — nothing in between. Is that so much to ask for?”
Scenes used to feel sacred — messy, real, alive. Do you still believe in the idea of a “scene”?
I’ve seen scenes that are just trust fund kids wearing brand new leather jackets, pretending to be poor, doing smack until grandma passes down the family heirlooms.
It’s the most shallow, vacuous, middle-class bag of shit I’ve ever witnessed.
On a brighter note — I’m lucky to be part of an extended family of freaks who are all stars in their own right. But I gotta keep it sacred — otherwise the pitchforks will come.
Check out our Big Udder Blues video — there’s a few of them in there.
What’s the ugliest feeling you’ve ever put into a song — and did you keep it there, or clean it up in the mix?
Well, I have this song where I write about avenging the death of Emmett Till.
If you don’t know who that is — look it up now. Let’s just say, for what they did to that poor young boy… I seek revenge on the woman who lied about him.
That one will definitely be the hit of the summer!!! Coming to a dance floor near you. It is a banger.
A lot of musicians today want to be “relatable” — soft, digestible. What’s the value in being unlikable, loud, or confrontational?
Hahaha — do you think I’m unlikable??!
All the -isms that still lurk in the shadows of the collective consciousness — I hope I trigger them all. “Likeable.” “Nice.” Probably the two words I fear the most… apart from “deluded.”
I either want to be adored or detested — nothing in between. Is that so much to ask for?
You’re playing with feminine iconography — power, anger, absurdity. In a culture that still punishes women for being loud or messy, is performance your resistance, your armour, or your offering?
It’s all for me. It’s not for the taking.
It’s a war cry. It’s opening the space for you to find yours.
We jump together.
Outside of performing, you also direct and create. How do those roles feed each other — or clash?
Everything I create comes out of chaos. There’s no order to anything I do, and no boundary on what or how I create — from a film to a song to an installation. It all feeds into each other.
I’ll never limit myself. I love making film, but my heart belongs to songwriting.
I read you stripped to pay your way through art school — and I really respect that. Let’s be honest: most art schools still feel like playgrounds for rich kids in ripped jeans who want the sex, drugs and rock’n’roll aesthetic — minus the struggle. How do working-class creatives break through when the whole system feels so expensive and exclusionary?
It’s really not easy to be a full-time creative without generational wealth. I’ve done some mad shit to keep it all going — and I’d do it all over again. And again.
You’ve just got to carve a way and don’t stop. It’s always worth it.
And I don’t know about you, but I’m bored with all these posh pricks who’ve saturated every corner of the arts with beige.
Come through, moon children — we need you!!
I heard Jarvis Cocker say something similar about Shoreditch — he called it “vanilla.” When is the full album from Jeanie and The White Boys coming out?
Next single: Queen Bee — out July.
Album: We Are Burning Delight Here — out early 2026.
Our next show: June 20th at Southwark Park Galleries, Dilston Grove.
Also: Glastonbury — Thursday night at Strummerville.
“It’s not for the taking. It’s a war cry. It’s opening the space for you to find yours. We jump together.”
About Jeanie
She is a London-based artist whose creative practice spans music, performance, and directing. Emerging from the East London club scene, she gained notoriety as a DJ, co-founder of FabooTV, and visual director—cementing her commitment to queer, DIY, underground culture. Her latest directing work includes It’s Where I’m From by The Moonlandingz featuring Iggy Pop, and she currently has an art installation on view at Southwark Park Galleries.
Her musical output includes the acclaimed single Jeanie’s Manifesto on Super Drama Records—bold, boundary-pushing, and riotously fun. Now fronting Jeanie and the White Boys, she channels punk’s raw energy through a bluesy, theatrical lens.
As a director, Jeanie blends theatricality, sexuality, and provocation to subvert norms and elevate queer and marginalized voices in visual storytelling.
To know more about Jeanie follow her on Instagram or listen to her on Spotify
Team credits
Photographer: JC Verona
Make Up Artist: Yasmin Khan
Hair: Solomon Paramour
Special Thanks: Bleaq
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