Joydah Mae reminds us music is memory, lineage and lived truth

Joydah Mae’s music arrives as memory, lineage and lived truth. Rooted in her upbringing in the northern mountains of the Philippines, her songs carry the wisdom of elders, the pull of community and a deep commitment to healing through presence. In this conversation, Joydah speaks about ancestry, vulnerability, motherhood and why music, for her, is an act of remembrance that reaches far beyond sound.

Growing up in a small mountain village in the northern Philippines shaped your earliest memories. How does that place live inside your music now?

I grew up in a village called Kabayan. This place is the foundation, the roots of who I am. There’s a saying that goes “You can take the girl out of the village, but you can’t take the village out of the girl.” My music is the village. It’s the bones of my ancestors, it’s the wisdom of my grandmother, it’s the chants of my elders, it’s the rights of passage, the rituals, the culture, the community. These memories, these frequencies live within me, and carry through everything that I do, and all of who I am. Where I come from is the first tapestry in my music, because it’s the foundation of everything. 

I carry the thread of my village, of my people, in everything. Acknowledging my ancestors and partaking in cultural rituals & ceremonies in a silent way in my own everyday life, and carrying the wisdom & guidance from this into my experiences, into my songs & into the way that I share them with the world. So when you listen to my songs, it arrives in your mind, body & soul and finds a way to a part of yourself that is seeking to remember. To remember what it means to be connected to place, to land, to ancestors, to the great spirit of all things. 

You began playing guitar through family connection and quiet determination. What did music offer you at that age?

Music offered me safety. A place of belonging. At that age it was my escape into a world that understood me. And unconsciously it was also a way to connect to my father who wasn’t present in my life at that time. But I held the knowledge through stories shared, that my father is a great musician. And deep down I believe part of me was finding a way to connect with him, even though I never met him. My uncle was the one who showed me the way with a guitar. And I continued to journey with it in my own time. Developing my own relationship with this instrument, and most importantly with my voice. 

For a long time your songs stayed close to your heart. What shifted when you felt ready to share them more openly?

It’s really when someone started seeing me. When one person believed in me, and gave me a space to share my music, without a doubt, without question. My willingness to share expanded when I experienced the impact of my voice & how it offered healing & empowerment for others too. It sealed the whole thing for me. When I was given this opportunity to share, standing in front of the crowd & seeing people being given hope & uplifting community through my songs. I had this feeling that it wasn’t just for me, that I was in for a long ride because I knew this was something I had to commit to. This deep knowing that this is what I’m meant to do on this earth. It was a balance where my personal world & community met deeply, and could not be unravelled from one another. Both gave each other purpose. 

Community response plays a strong role in your journey. What do you feel when people meet your music with gratitude?

I feel a sense of purpose. It is a confirmation that I am following the right path, and the trust becomes an ally to keep going. When a person comes up to me with the tears in their eyes, with their hand on their heart I feel a sense of… I don’t even know how to describe it. There’s this emotion that comes to me, a sense of peace, gratitude, bliss. It’s like all these emotions that confirm what I’m doing and what I’m offering is something greater than me, than who I am. I feel seen & I see them too. It’s powerful, it’s moving & it’s inspiring. The people are my fuel to keep going. 

Your work often speaks to healing and remembrance. What do you hope people reconnect with when they listen to you?

To reconnect with their hearts, to reclaim their power, to confront the things that are uncomfortable in order to connect with the truth of who they are & their sense of authority. I have faith that sharing in the experience of my music will spark a remembrance of who they are. For them to feel a sense that something has moved in their inner world, their inner waters. Something has stirred within themselves. Just by allowing them to open up their hearts a little bit more. 

I hope that the people who connect with my music, that they find some sort of resonance of not feeling alone, not feeling as though they are doing it on their own. Just as my song ‘Walking Each Other Home’ reflects. It speaks to many layers of grief, and at the same time offers a glimpse of light so that they remember they are not alone. 

Your sound draws from folk, soul and indie while resisting clear labels. How do you stay true to yourself when genre expectations appear?

Describing my music seems like such a logical thing. My music is medicine. Just like who I am as a person, I cannot be described and put in a box, but my presence and my essence is enough for people to know who I am. And I reject labels that limit who I am. It’s the same with my music. I love being challenged, I love breaking the boxes and disrupting & defying the norms. It’s a great way for me to really hold in the integrity of what I do. When I feel I’m being limited to fit into a certain place, the rebel in me always finds a way. But I also carry no expectation to be accepted. Whether this is in application for festivals or places that ask for specific genre types. 

I trust that the spaces, the people, the communities who resonate with me will feel what I offer, and give me space to share that. My music comes from the heart, it sings to the heart, it is accepted within the heart. A place that knows no bounds when what it shared is honest & pure. People tell me my music is medicine. It’s true for them, it’s true for me & thats all that matters. 

You describe yourself as a catalyst rather than a performer. How does that intention guide the way you move through the world?

When I share my music I share all of who I am, no pretending, no mask. I remind people that what I do is not entertainment, nor a performance. To shift the mindset of the expectation of programmed behaviour from an audience. To remind them that I am not something seperate from them. I always prefer to play as close to or on the ground as possible, not on the stage. Because I intend to remove the perspective of hierarchy & idolisation. It reminds people that I am another human being, present, with my heart front, centre and open, being shared wholly. The vulnerability of who I am is at stake. 

It allows people to remove their masks too. As soon as I share this reminder, the whole dynamic of the room shifts. People soften, they find presence & it anchors  respect throughout the room. The presence & vulnerability of both myself and everyone choosing to experience that, is embodied & acknowledged, and so the connection deepens. Most importantly children witness this, they feel it, they experience it. And that right there is the catalyst for how we bring honesty & vulnerability forward for the next generation. 

Your social presence feels raw and unfiltered. What role does vulnerability play in building genuine connection?

It’s the key. Vulnerability allows people to feel. And when I share my vulnerability, it gives others the opportunity of seeing my humanness and to see that I too have shit going on in my life too. When you show vulnerability there’s a sense of acceptance of that part of oneself, or accepting the experience of another.

We’re taught not to share, or to hide emotions and this keeps us disconnected from our own truth. It makes us build those walls and create the masks. So for me, vulnerability is such a powerful & sensitive emotion that connects us into our hearts, into the dark spaces and moves people in their grief and in their joy. It’s a way to allow the courage to come through. It a reflection as well, to give an insight to ones life and return again to that place of not feeling so alone. When we can share with our hearts open, we come to a place where all of ourselves are free to be and to exist. 

You speak about music as transformation rather than entertainment. When did that understanding become clear for you?

To pinpoint an exact moment is unclear. But for me, music has always been transformational & a tool for my own healing. And music thats tuned in from the heart space is a healing frequency. It’s a vibration that can awaken your memory, it can take you places, it invokes that sense of connection to self. Through mind, body, heart, soul, mental health, everything! 

Music is something we consume, something we relate to, something we experience. Anything that enters into our system has the capacity to change us, and it’s a choice in how we choose to engage with it. For me, I deliver my music with the intention of offering a space for transformation. A space for true connection to self. A space for deep remembering & allowing that vulnerability that cracks open the heart. 

Many artists search for belonging through their work. What does finding your way home mean to you?

Finding my way home means coming back to my heart. It’s the feeling of liberation in what I’m doing. It’s the act of constantly allowing my heart to lead the way. Lead my choices, lead the process, lead everything. And the biggest thing for my sense of belonging, that feeling of home, is that I’m not outsourcing anymore. I am the infinite source of my creativity, and so long as  feel aligned with my integrity & my values, I trust in my heart to carry me in the right direction. When you come home to yourself, you also find your people, your community, through resonance. You know, I find a sense of belonging, a sense of home in travelling to different communities, having an intimate setting, sharing music, food, culture.. Connecting with strangers who feel familiar. Seeing the children connect with my songs, my music, and getting feedback from their parents that it has impacted them & given them inspiration to really be who they are. 

Finding your way home, to me, is the place where you & everyone and everything connects. Sometimes we must journey far one way, and far the other way to meet back in the middle of balance. Belonging is accepting all of who i am, and sharing that with the world. Inspiring other’s to be all of who they are, so they too can find home, within & without wherever they go. 

As your journey unfolds, what inner truth feels most important to protect as you step into what comes next?

I think the inner truth that sits in my heart, my soul, in my whole being is to remain in the foundations of humility and the integrity to remain true in who I am, even as I continue to change and grow. 

Humility is such a silent warrior. And the people that I respect & resonate with are the ones that walk this earth or have walked this earth with such humility. So I endeavour to maintain the integrity in who I am, to be reminded of my humility and to keep walking the path. 

And most importantly, what I will always hold in my heart & what I will always protect is my son & the journey of motherhood. The place where the greatest teachings reside. My biggest anchor, and reminder that everything I do isn’t just for me, it’s for my child & for all the children of the world. Those already here & those yet to come.