Seattle has long been a city that shapes artists before the rest of the world catches on. For Jaymin, that shaping happened in church choirs, suburban bedrooms turned makeshift studios, and late nights spent writing songs that favored feeling over flash. With the release of his debut EP, Sweet Nothings, the South Seattle–born singer-songwriter, backed by Warner Records, is stepping into a wider spotlight by slowing things down and letting vulnerability lead.

A 10-track project recorded largely at home, Sweet Nothings reintroduces romance, emotional presence, and intentionality to modern R&B. Jaymin’s songs linger in the space between confidence and tenderness, pairing contemporary production with classic soul instincts. His voice moves easily between soft confession and rhythmic cadence, drawing from ’80s and ’90s R&B without sounding nostalgic for nostalgia’s sake. The result is music that feels both intimate and expansive. Jaymin celebrated the release of Sweet Nothings with a party on the Friday before the Super Bowl.

At the center of Sweet Nothings is a clear point of view: love as something active, mutual, and worth tending to. Jaymin’s writing insists on presence and showing up fully, communicating honestly.

Jaymin spoke with Seattle magazine about the inspiration behind Sweet Nothings, along with the advice he has for other Seattle artists.

I’m going to assume you watched the Super Bowl. How are you feeling right now?

I’m feeling amazing. I’m not gonna lie. I knew we were going to win. I didn’t think it was gonna be a tough game. I feel like the city is up right now. The energy is high. The vibes are high. I see Seahawks everywhere. It’s a great time to be from Seattle.

How did the release party go? That was on the Friday before the Super Bowl, right?

It went really well. It was a good turnout. We got to listen to the project together. It’s difficult for me to listen to it by myself because I’ve listened to it so many times. When I’m with other people, I’m able to appreciate it the way I did when I first created it. It kind of gives me a new perspective when I’m listening to it with someone else for the first time. A lot of people hit me up afterwards, like, “Man, that was amazing. I love what you’re doing with the brand and marketing.” All this is really dope and really good for the city.

Were there any comments or reactions to the album that surprised you?

No, honestly. I know the project is a really good body of work, and that’s how people received it. The biggest compliment I’ve been getting, which I got a few times at the release party and then afterwards, was, there’s no skips to the project. That just feels amazing. Every song is placed in the correct order. I was very intentional about that.

How has Seattle shaped your background in music?

I grew up in church, so my love for music was cultivated there—choir, singing lead in kids’ choir. My mom was the minister of music at our church. She directed the choir, played the organ, and taught me and my siblings how to harmonize.

Seattle has such a rich musical history that doesn’t get talked about enough. You’ve got Jimi Hendrix, Quincy Jones, Nirvana, Ray Charles, who spent time here, and then later Macklemore—but there’s been a big gap in recognition, even though there’s so much talent and culture in the city.

If you’re from Seattle, you know how talented and culturally rich it is. I was just walking around the other day thinking, I’m really glad to be from here. Looking at the people, the landscape, it’s a really dope place to be. You absorb that culture just by living here.

You’ve been going back and forth between Seattle and L.A. a lot. How have you adjusted to the different energy of those two cities?

I love being in Seattle because it’s so chill. I currently live in the suburbs so I’m able to get away from everything. There’s peace and quiet, and right there on the water of Lake Washington I feel a sense of serenity. When I come to L.A., I sense a sort of peace in a different way. This is where people go to dream big and make their dreams come true. I feel a sense of peace because I’m amongst my peers. I’m able to see a lot of people who are successful or on their way up. I like that balance of both. I like to be able to go back home and just kind of Zen out for a little bit. Then I like coming out to L.A. for the hustle and bustle and grind to remind you of what you’re doing and everything you’re doing it for.

Let’s get into Sweet Nothings. What was the inspiration behind the project?

I’ve been around music my entire life, but I realized I’d never really given it my all. My family would tell me, “You say you want to do music, but have you really tried?” And they were right.

When I started making Sweet Nothings, I wasn’t trying to make a project. I was just trying to make good music. I’d hear a beat, think it was dope, write to it, then do the same with another beat. Over time, I stepped back and realized the songs were very cohesive. That’s when I thought this could be a project.

The inspiration came from looking at the R&B landscape. A lot of it felt dark to me. You had to talk about women or yourself a certain way to be accepted. I didn’t really align with what I saw or what I heard I had to be in order to be popular or accepted. I took a step back and decided I want to make music that resonates with me. It was about love and positivity and about struggle, but also trying to make it work in relationships.

Let me make this music that I grew up on, that I was inspired by, that I feel good about. Let me be vulnerable. A lot of times people, especially nowadays, are guarded. They think if this doesn’t serve me, then I’m leaving or if this is not for me. With that kind of mindset, you’ll just be running for the entirety of your life. Some things are not going to serve you. Some things are not going to be the best, and that doesn’t mean staying somewhere that is harmful. But I do think there is a level of having to work for something, no matter what that is, whether it’s a job, a relationship, whatever it is, there’ll be some times when things are uncomfortable and don’t serve you in the moment. That was my whole inspiration behind creating this project and trying to do it artistically and poetically.

The album opens with an intro and feels very intentional in its sequencing. Did you envision it as something people should listen to start to finish?

The order in which the songs were made is kind of the same order in which they’re placed. I feel like it was subconscious that I was telling the story that takes place at the genesis of the pursuit of love. The intro was the second to last song made on the project. The intro and the interlude were made very strategically. I stepped back and realized I needed an interlude. With another step back I thought an intro would be good to bring all this together. I think that over time people may jump around, and that’s OK because of the cohesion of the project. The way I intended it was from top to bottom. I wanted you to get the butterflies that “88” gives you. There is wooing I was trying to convey with “No Sikes, No Tradesies.” Then I wanted to get a little more vulnerable towards the end with “Smoke and Mirrors.”

You self-recorded the project at home. Why was that the right environment for you creatively?

Over the years, I’ve spent so much money in studios. You’re always on a clock. When I go to studio sessions, I feel pressured to start, create, cultivate and fully tie an idea all together. I don’t function that way. When it comes to my best work, I grew up writing poetry and I’ll write a line ten times over. I want to say this in a certain way and you just don’t really have time to do that when you’re in a three-hour session or five-hour session.

My first thing to do was be cost efficient. And two, I don’t want to be on a clock when it comes to artistic expression. I want to be there as long as I want. I’m investing in my own studio and my house. I set it up and I started to record. I felt free. I would sometimes clock in at 8 or 9 at night and I wouldn’t go to sleep until 6 or 7 in the morning. When you’re locked in by yourself, there’s certain things you just wouldn’t do around other people. When it comes to where I was at with this project, I think it was important for me to work out a lot of things by myself and figure out what the Jaymin sound was. Even my signature that I say in every song, I say, “what I say?” It was an accident. I was recording and trying to figure out what I said. I left it on the track. I clipped it and then I just kept saying it because I like the way that it sounds. I don’t think I would have figured it out in the studio with somebody else.

Let’s talk about the “WaMu” music video. What was the creative vision behind it?

“WaMu” was one of the most fun records to make. It was one of the first beats my manager Chase sent me, and I wrote it in about 30 minutes. It’s bouncy, fun, and energetic. Visually, I wanted that same energy. I wanted me in my element, in a fly crib, outfit changes, vibing by myself. Almost like I’m getting ready for a date or heading to the airport. We shot it in Seattle and linked up with a dope production company, Harvest Studios. I feel like the tones, textures, and colors really embody the city. The song is named after Washington Mutual, so it just felt right.

Now that you’re performing these songs live, has their meaning shifted for you?

All of them feel different when it’s live. I’ve been performing about four or five of them already even before the project came out. I wouldn’t say they change in significance. I would just say the tone changes. I think the more comfortable I get with them, the more I’m really able to sit with the words and what I was saying. Obviously in the moment when I was writing them, it was very important to me to convey a certain message. Performing them brings back that significance and meaning. You’re not just listening to it, but you’re trying to convey it with your voice, your performance, your demeanor and your aura. The pronunciation of the words gets different. You might over-pronounce, or you might do certain vocal runs that bring things to life. Performing them live brings back that creative process of where I was at when I made the song.

What advice would you give to aspiring artists coming up in Seattle?

I hate to be so cliché but half of my answer is to never give up, even in spite of your circumstances or feeling like you’re not being supported. When people are familiar with you, they tend to not respect some of the things you do all the time. I’ve seen a lot of other creatives complain about that, “I’m not supported. I just feel like people don’t support me.” I would say that no matter what, have grace with people, with your peers, with your family, with the people from your hometown. Have grace with them because a lot of times that feeling of people not supporting you can turn into resentment. It can affect your music and how you present your artistry.

Don’t give up. More importantly, keep your mind on the goal. Eventually, no matter where you’re from, people will understand. I felt like that, too. I love Seattle with everything in me. Sometimes it does bother me when I look at my numbers and Seattle is not in my top 10. That’s my city. I want them to be number one. But it’s OK.

Keep going, no matter the response. You want the people from your town to support you the most, but it’s not always gonna be that way. If you are from Seattle, just grind, do what makes you feel comfortable, be yourself unapologetically and don’t worry about what people say or don’t say, just keep going. Eventually, everybody will catch on.