Apple TV+’s Bad Monkey is based on a novel. How did you approach creating a score that brings the characters from the page to the screen?

From the moment I read the script, I knew I needed to immerse myself in Carl Hiaasen’s novel. His characters are vibrant, layered, and full of contradictions—they leap off the page. What struck me most is Carl’s deep love for the natural world. He’s a passionate conservationist, and that undercurrent of environmental justice grounds the entire story. At its core, Bad Monkey is about people fighting for their land, their homes, and their sense of right and wrong. That’s where the music began.  My co-composer, Waz, and I each took a part of the world: he dove into the rich, wild textures of Florida, and I explored the rhythms and spirit of Andros. What we discovered was that even across oceans, the roots felt connected—branches of the same tree, just shaped by different forces. Percussion became our through line—our heartbeat.

I found the rhythmic heartbeat of the characters—the pain, the passion, the mystique, and the fight for justice. Their stories pulsed with life, and I wanted the music to reflect that.

This project spanned over two and a half years. That time was a gift. It allowed me to live inside the story, to explore deeply, to experiment without pressure. So when the “hurry up and wait” phase ended, and Bill Lawrence and Matt Tarses wrapped filming, we were ready. We had themes that had grown naturally from the novel—early sketches that, to my joy, still resonated. When one of those early ideas became the theme song, it felt like a real creative win.

One of my favorite moments was bringing in an all-female string section, conducted by Tracie Turnbull. We recorded at Evergreen Studios, and the energy in the room was electric. There was something powerful about having that much female creative force in one space—bringing emotion, depth, and strength to the score.

Can you talk a bit about working in television? What are the rewards and what are the challenges?

Television is a wild ride—full of intense highs and uncertain pauses. My first job was on Cougar Town, a comedic series for ABC. We did six seasons, 22 episodes each, and it moved fast. We’d spot an episode on Wednesday, and it would air the following week. It was exhilarating—like a creative sprint every time. The pace was relentless, but thrilling.

Since then, the industry has changed dramatically. One of the biggest challenges now is the rise of short-season orders and the unpredictability of what comes next. The downtime between projects can be mentally tough. I’m a mom, so the uncertainty resonates—I’ve had to work hard not to freeze or spiral in those in-between moments.  Instead, I’ve learned to treat that space as a creative incubator. It’s when I can explore and grow as an artist, and that shift in mindset has been transformative. Last December, for instance, I traveled to Tokyo and did an improvisational show with a band called Nireus. It was the first time I’d ever improvised on stage—20 minutes of pure vulnerability in front of an audience full of modular synth artists. It changed me. That one moment has already led to collaborations I’m incredibly excited about.  I also launched Slay the Day Music, an organization focusing on empowering underrepresented artists through access, advocacy and collaboration. I have a neoclassical EP on the way with the incredible violinist Anna Christina Kennedy, and I’m producing an album with actress and artist Jena Malone. So while the “in-betweens” can be scary, they’ve also become some of the most fruitful, expansive times of my career.

You’re the founder of Slay the Day Music. What are some of the ways you and the label are uplifting and advocating for women in the music and composer space?

Thank you for asking!  As a composer, I get to see behind the curtain—and I’ve realized how often I’m in rooms where change can start with a single question. I’ve found myself saying things like, “What about a trans artist here? A Black artist? A woman?” That kind of gentle disruption matters. I started Slay the Day Music to publicly commit to being an advocate and ally—someone who doesn’t just believe in change, but helps make it happen. My hope is that filmmakers and music supervisors think of me not just for my own work, but when they need help diversifying their sonic worlds.  One of the artists I’ve worked with for years is Jamie Drake, an incredible vocalist and songwriter. We’ve had a lot of success together creating music for film and TV. After the pandemic, she came to me feeling unsure of her next step. I saw a path forward for her and launched a co-publishing arm of Slay the Day to help build a more sustainable career. She’s got undeniable talent—we just needed to get her in the right rooms at the right time. I absolutely adore beating down doors for her.  To me, advocacy means action. And Slay the Day is my way of turning that belief into something tangible—something that opens doors and creates momentum for women and underrepresented artists in this space.

You frequently collaborate with your husband WAZ on multiple projects. How do you navigate creative flow together, and how do you bounce ideas off one another in your process?

We have a great therapist! Honestly, that’s been essential. We’re married, we work together, we parent together—it’s a lot. We’ve learned we need tools, boundaries, and, crucially, our own recording spaces (which we have). I’m deeply grateful to have access to therapy, and I truly hope one day all composers will have that kind of support when they need it. This career can be full of rejection, uncertainty, and emotional highs and lows. It can feel crazy at times, and mental health matters.  Creatively, WAZ and I are really different—we come from different musical backgrounds and we have very different tastes. But that contrast actually becomes our strength. We bring different colors to the table, which keeps things interesting and layered.

When we collaborate, we usually start separately. We’ll read the script, disappear into our own worlds, and then come back to present ideas to each other. Once we’ve found a direction that resonates—and confirmed it with the filmmaker or showrunner—we decide who’s going to lead the project. That person becomes the creative point person, and we rally around that vision together.  It’s a dance. But we’ve learned how to give each other space, how to challenge each other respectfully, and how to stay aligned even when we’re approaching from different angles. It’s not always easy, but it’s deeply rewarding.

It’s Dorothy is premiering at the Tribeca Film Festival. What were the unique challenges of scoring such an iconic franchise and character? Were there any musical inspirations that guided you? And are you looking forward to going to the festival?

I’m so thrilled to have worked on this project with our filmmaker Jeffrey McHale. He’s an extraordinary editor/director, and he’s crafted a stunning, deeply personal film using archival footage in a way that feels both fresh and emotionally profound. Scoring this film honestly healed some broken pieces in my heart.  It was an absolute dream to write music over scenes from The Wizard of Oz, The Wiz, and iconic performances from legends like Judy Garland, Diana Ross, Rufus Wainwright, Beyoncé, Stephanie Mills, Margaret Cho, and so many others. The film doesn’t just explore Dorothy—it explores queerness, identity, belonging, and transformation. The challenge was honoring the legacy while creating something emotionally honest and uniquely our own.  

Musically, I drew inspiration from the magic and mythos of Oz, but I also allowed myself to be guided by the raw emotion in Jeffrey’s edit. Sometimes it was about grandeur and sparkle—other times it was about intimacy and ache. I had to stay rooted in the emotional truth of each moment, rather than the pressure of the franchise’s iconic history.  On a personal note, having It’s Dorothy premiere at Tribeca is incredibly meaningful. I used to live in New York City and would disappear for days into the Angelika, getting lost in independent films. It feels beautifully full-circle to return with a film I’m so proud of, premiering on June 7th. I can’t wait to be there supporting Jeffrey, connecting with friends, and soaking in the energy of the festival.

For emerging female/gender expansive composers and songwriters, what’s one piece of advice you wish you had when you were starting out?

Get involved in the community.  It’s something I’m still learning. For many years, I kept my head down and worked in isolation—I didn’t have real connections to other composers, and I didn’t realize how important that was. About a year ago, I was lucky enough to be introduced to composer Aisling Brouwer, and she encouraged me to make the time to connect with others in our field. That changed everything.  We need each other in this industry. We need to show up for one another, celebrate each other’s wins, and create a culture of support. That’s what I’m committing to now—lifting others up the way I hope to be lifted too.  Which leads me to a giant thank you to the Alliance for Women Film Composers. The work you’re doing is vital and deeply inspiring. I’m honored to be part of this community and excited to become more involved. It’s a challenging time out there—but we’re stronger together, and I can’t wait to meet and collaborate with more of you.

Interview by Valerie Manahan

Check out Jamie’s directory page here!