TOKiMONSTA On Grief & Good Music: How ‘Eternal Reverie’ Pays Homage To Everlasting Friendship

TOKiMONSTA’s latest album, Eternal Reverie, is due March 7, but there was a moment when she thought it may never be released.

Over the last year, the producer, DJ, and Young Art Records labelhead born Jennifer Lee experienced extreme personal difficulties: Her cat died; she watched her hometown of Los Angeles ravaged by wildfire; in October, she lost her best friend, Regina, to triple-negative inflammatory breast cancer. Lee postponed the original release of Eternal Reverie and canceled her 30-date tour to provide care for Regina.

"There was a point when I thought I should just scrap this album and work on something new," Lee tells GRAMMY.com. "I felt like we were waiting so long to put it out that maybe I had creatively moved on, but also the association with the music and all the stuff that had happened — was it even worth it anymore?"

The aptly titled Eternal Reverie became a living document of Lee and Regina's deep, loving friendship. Lee finished the album while Regina was going through chemotherapy — an expectedly difficult experience which inspired the pulsing dance track called "Feel It."

"I would play the album for her; she would tell me which ones she liked. I'll tell her which ones were inspired by her going through her recovery," Lee says, adding that "Feel It" was made together. "It was trying to encourage her to think about more positive times when we're dancing at the club. Whatever could provide support."

Lee also wrote the somber and rhythmically intricate production, "For You," for Regina, who, unfortunately, never heard it. "During her last month, her cancer metastasized to her brain and affected her cognitive abilities. So we couldn't even talk to her anymore towards the end," Lee says.

But Lee knows that, wherever Regina is, she is loving the album, just as she loved all of her best friend’s music. "Her spirit and essence [is] very much a part of this album. Her physical body may not be here to hear it, but I do feel that she's passing on to something else that could be even better."

That spirituality extends throughout the album, which weaves a sonic thread between Lee's current platform and younger self. The majority of the tracks adopt a house music feel, honoring her roots as a raver. TOKiMONSTA also revisited the alternative sound design she mastered on earlier hip-hop albums like Cosmic Intoxication and LA Series 8, which ultimately made her a key figure in L.A’.s beat scene.

True to her roots in the digital underground, TOKiMONSTA will tour Eternal Reverie at small venues like El Rey Theater in Los Angeles and The Independent in San Francisco. While the GRAMMY nominee could fill a bigger space — and certainly will during sets at EDC Vegas and Miami's Ultra Festival — these smaller stops were designed to create deeper connections with her audience. The kinds of connections are what help her persevere through difficult moments.

"I love this body of work. It means a lot to me," Lee says. "I need this album to exist to know that I made it through."

Read on about how providing end-of-life care for her best friend influenced Eternal Reverie and how music is a product of the deep connections in her life.

How did your friend Regina inspire this album?

She was very much [a part of] the making of it. Not actively as a participant or a musician, but she's my best friend. I got her feedback all the time on the music I was making.

It's actually still difficult for me to process how tightly woven this album is with losing my best friend. Her illness didn't inspire the album. Her life inspired it. All my albums are inspired by living and experiencing, and she was so much of that. Experiencing her as a human being made this album. It's coupled very much with my own grieving, and it's going to be a long journey.

It’s brave to take on that perspective. When you were showing her the music, was there any moment, comment, or reaction that will stick with you?

At the time that I showed her the album, I didn't know she was going to die, and I don't think she did either. I showed her music all the time. She is someone with so much musical prowess. She can hear influences. She can tell BPMs. She knows obscure genres of music I'm not even familiar with.

Just sitting in the car, going with her to chemo while playing the music, her vibing and being like, "Oh, this is fire." Honestly, though, the reason why I don't have anything specific is she says that about all my music. Truthfully, if the song was really bad, she would still say it's good because she's my friend.

It seems as though she represents the title of the album, "Reverie," being your fond memories of her, and "Eternal" representing that she will be with you forever.

This album, from its inception until now, has evolved so much in its meaning. There is a nostalgia that we all carry with us. But it's the life experience, and life experience is very much influenced by the people we're around. I talked to her way more than I talk to my mom. Even though she's not here with us anymore, I still talk to her more than I talk to my mom.

I am a culmination of all my experiences and influences, and she's a major one, and I think recognizing and giving her her flowers in the way that I can feels only right. We had some really wild adventures. That livelihood that we shared together will be ever present in my music, and more thoughtfully so, moving forward.

Artists commonly talk about how releasing an album feels like lifting a weight off their shoulders because it’s such a long process. After going through that process along with all these difficult personal experiences, how does it feel to be releasing Eternal Reverie?

When I started making this album, I was in a good place. I was so excited. I decided to take a little time off to work on it. I'd usually concurrently worked on music while touring. Then so many life things happened that made it impossible to put out this album.

Many times on this journey, I didn't know if I could see this album come out. I didn't know if I had the heart and the resilience left in me because I had been pushed to my limits. Going through this amount of loss also harbored this new sort of depression. I've gone through a lot of difficult things in the past. But I still was able to keep a level head on my shoulders. This time I almost didn't know how to move forward. It was a new space for me to feel that loss. Not weak, but to feel lost and incapable, more incapable than I've ever been.

Here I am on the other side. I'm obviously still grieving. But with this album being out, I'm like Wow! It made it. Finally, after all that hardship I had to go through last year, there is still the strength to move forward and release this album.

Most of the songs on Eternal Reverie are built on dance beats. This is quite a shift from the alternative hip-hop of your earlier years. Why are you making music in this different style?

I grew up sneaking out of my house to go to raves, listening to house music and drum and bass. But at the same time, I really liked Wu-Tang Clan, DJ Shadow, and J Dilla. I found myself in this scene where we really loved experimental electronic music. But we hung out from 70 BPM to 105 BPM tops.

Weirdly, I started working in more dance BPMs during the pandemic, when no one could go out. It was this liberating experiment for me; I just really wanted to try something new, and new is scary and dangerous.

I sought a lot of inspiration from my early work. A lot of [Eternal Reverie] is me experimenting in a new time signature domain, but also looking back at 2008-2010 TOKiMONSTA. What was I thinking about when I was making music then? At that time it was just free creation. If you slowed down all the songs to 80 BPM, they would still sound like beats.

My ethos stays the same. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. Would I be happy with how I live today? I decided I'd be happy experimenting. I'd be happy letting go of people's perceptions of who I am as a musician and tapping into baby TOKiMONSTA.

You’ve known and worked with some of the collaborators on the album, like Gavin Turek and Andeson .Paak, for many years. Others, like producer Kaelin Ellis, you met for the first time through this record. How would you compare working with old friends to working with someone new?

I've worked with Anderson and Gavin so many times. We're clowning during the session. We just have a good time. Drink some cocktails, work on a beat, and it's fun because it's familiar. You're making music with your friends. I see them socially as well. I see Gavin around all the time. I'll go get a drink or go get dinner with Anderson. I went to his birthday. Gavin is an angel, and when I work with Anderson, that's my boy.

On the flip side, you have new collaborators that you're working with. Sometimes it's like, I really like their music. I don't want to show them how weird I am as a person yet. But at the end of the day, my goal of working on music with collaborators is for them to be comfortable and not feel like they're in an uptight situation with a bunch of suits, hoping to make a Top 10. Let's just have a good time and make music.

Everyone eventually finds comfort. I always have lots of snacks, and we have a good time.

How do you feel about taking this album on the road with so much emotion behind it?

I've been touring nonstop since 2010. This whole last year, the first half was intentional; I was taking a break so I could finish the album. But in the latter half of the year, the lack of touring was not intentional.

I had a giant tour set up in the fall of last year; like 30 dates. Myself and my team pivoted. Instead, it's fewer dates, fewer cities, and smaller shows. But in every city, I'm going to be doing multiple things. Something more experiential, a pop-up somewhere, and then two intimate shows.

I just want to be with people again. This is my way of connecting with my audience after being so far away from them. That means I might get a little sweat on me. But we're going to be together, and I want to curate a really cool experience, bring a lot of cool production, and play music for them. Instead of going big room, big show, I’m going small room, big show.