Jager Henry

Music medicates even the deepest wounds. Jager Henry not only harnesses this power in his songs, but he also transmits it out loud through an intriguing and infectious hybrid of rock, metal, and alternative. One moment, he might scream straight from the gut over gnashing distortion only to enrapture with an airy melody in the next. He unassumingly continues as one of the most respected bloodlines in rock ‘n’ roll history as the son of powerhouse drummer Jason Bonham and the grandson of Led Zeppelin drum icon John Bonham, yet he heeds his own calling as a frontman and songwriter.

Clear intent defines his 2024 self-titled independent debut EP, HEART OF THORNS.

“I’m not focused on a viral hit or trying to be the next big thing,” he notes. “I just want to make music. I always battled depression, but I would connect to certain songs and find joy. This is my art. If I can save a few souls along the way, there would be nothing better.”

Born in the UK, he primarily grew up in Florida. Surrounded by music, he really opened his eyes to it at 12-years-old. Hanging out in a nondescript dressing room, he heard his dad perform “Juke Box Hero” with Foreigner, and the moment proved revelatory. “They were playing a casino, so I wasn’t allowed to be on the floor,” he recalls. “I literally listened through the wall, and it was the moment I understood music was in my blood.” From this point forward, he admittedly “dabbled here and there.” He often dressed up like Angus Young with a Gibson SG, cracking up his parents in the process. Simultaneously, the stereo rotated between AC/DC, Limp Bizkit, Korn, Linkin Park and Led Zeppelin, offering “a mix between old school and new school.”

At 17-years-old, he started to record demos in his bedroom, pursuing his craft seriously for the first time. He tracked hundreds of ideas on a makeshift interface with a $50 microphone from Guitar Center. Making his introduction, he dropped “Wake Me Up” in 2021 followed by “Love Yourself” (feat. Ray Luzier of Korn). Beyond gaining traction on DSPs with hundreds of thousands of streams, New Noise christened him “an artist who can create layered and immersive songs that capture all sides of the human experience,” and Loudwire attested, “the angsty nature of the song is closer to that of Machine Gun Kelly than the ‘70s bluesy rock giants.”

Settling in Los Angeles during 2022, he packed the Viper Room for his first proper headline gig in between touring with Beauty School Dropout. However, a random encounter set his next chapter in motion. He serendipitously met producer Noah Thomas through a group of mutual friends. Soon after, he found himself in a downtown apartment where he recorded the EP with Noah behind the board.

On the first night, they cut three tracks as Jager screamed as loudly as possible to drown out the sound of “20 kids playing Xbox in the other room,” he laughs.

Now, the project opens with the single “Heart of Thorns.” Hypnotic vocals pierce a sparse beat punctuated by neon electronics. The hook’s restless distortion tosses and turns beneath a lament, “Cause my heart’s made of thorns.”

“I was going through a heartbreak at the time,” he recalls. “I had this image in my head. It painted this person as an angel, but they were hiding their horns. It came together on that first night in the studio. I had the name ‘Heart of Thorns’ for so long. I even got a thorned heart tattoo, because I knew it would mean something one day.”

Then, there’s “Déjà vu.” Ethereal electronics twist around pummeling guitar as he alternates between an arresting melody and guttural growl.

“It’s about the déjà vu that happens when you feel like you’ve been through something before,” he notes.

“Breaking Down” translates a moment of mania into a hard-hitting anthem. “It follows the story because if you found out your heart was made of thorns, you’d probably have a mental breakdown,” he reveals. Elsewhere, “Lighthouse” steamrolls forward fueled by unbridled punk energy illuminated by another raucous refrain.

The finale “Mortal Sacrifice” tempers a thick, chugging riff with overtones of cinematic keys. He locks into a call-and-response on the chorus as he confesses, “Sometimes, I just don’t feel alive, and I can’t find a reason why.”

“Recently, I lost a lot of my friends,” he recalls. “I was thinking, ‘Why did all of my friends go and not me?’ It didn’t make any sense. When I wrote it, it was what I needed to say. It ended up cohesive, because I was telling the truth.”

In the end, Jager owns his truth in the music.

“When you listen to this, I hope you hear the story and the authenticity,” he says. “It’s real life. I’m here to put my foot in the door and finally have the world hear what I created. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.”