Annabel Jones believed she had a clear direction in life – surrounded by a tight-knit team, she felt prepared to share her music with the world. However, within weeks, her life was irrevocably transformed, leaving her forever changed.
Following the loss of her husband, Ryan Brady, and her best friend, Max Perenchio, in quick succession, Annabel plunged into grief. Over time, her life began to regain clarity, with music playing a significant role in restoring order amidst the turmoil.
Her new EP, 'Forgiveness,' set to release on June 13th, marks the end of a five-year hiatus. The title track is one of the final pieces she worked on with Ryan and Max, and its release brings her a profound sense of personal healing.
She expresses...
“I just can’t allow this work to fade away without anyone hearing it, especially since they were so invested and excited about it. I also feel compelled to share more of their talents with the world.”
Her new single, 'Hotline To Heaven,' is available now, and in this heartfelt reflection, Annabel Jones shares her journey, extending compassion to those who have faced the loss of a loved one.
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Music served as my outlet – like many songwriters, it was where I expressed myself and processed my experiences. Everything has shifted now. Music has transformed into a space where I connect with the deceased.
On November 24th, 2020, I gathered around the kitchen table with my husband Ryan and best friend Max in the home we shared in LA. During that time of COVID, we had combined our resources to rent a larger place with space for a studio, a garden, and two additional floors for living and working. We were launching a new venture together, providing paid label services for independent artists who needed assistance, structure, and a team. Max, my best friend, was the producer and songwriter; I served as the creative director and stylist, while Ryan, my husband, handled the business aspects as the front man.
That evening, I prepared dinner for us, gnocchi with pesto. We talked about our families, sharing a mix of humorous and challenging stories, which at one point led to an energetic clearing in place of dessert. This clearing involved listening to KISS at full volume, a band Max adored and Ryan had come to appreciate to connect with his friend. I was quite firm in my belief that while KISS was undeniably fantastic, they weren't for me, and I preferred to head to bed with the weight of our conversation than with Gene Simmons, so I went upstairs. We were set to host friends the next day, and the idea made me feel responsible. It was Thanksgiving, and I wanted to be a good host.
Around 4 am, I woke to find Ryan wasn’t in bed. I didn’t think much of it and opened my phone to scroll through Instagram. I recalled sharing memes with a friend in Chicago, particularly an image of a smiling white staffy. It's strange the memories that linger during such times. After about an hour of scrolling, I began to feel uneasy. The usual sounds of helicopters and sirens filling the air in L.A. felt closer and more foreboding than usual.
Staying up late was common for the boys, but my very disciplined husband being awake at 5 am was unusual. I got out of bed and walked to the window. Our view was of a beautiful graveyard that bordered our property. I had liked the idea of living near a graveyard, as they are some of the few truly tranquil places in the city. I enjoyed watching deer grazing there, a sight I rarely saw elsewhere in the city. Noticing a car was missing made my stomach churn slightly. I moved across our room toward the door, trying to convince myself that my worries were unfounded. The house felt overwhelmingly quiet. As I made my way down the hallway and the stairs, an unfathomably large and catastrophic sense washed over me. Every cell in my body reacted to a reality I hadn’t yet confirmed. I paused and stepped off the last stair into the living room, a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity. I knew that when my foot touched the ground, everything would become real. Deep down, I understood that Ryan and Max were gone.
People often say things like, “I knew she was dead,” or “I was in my car and felt breathless; that was the moment he died elsewhere,” or something similar. But until you experience it, I cannot express how real it feels. The world seems different; it sounds different, looks different. It felt as if I could physically sense the absence of their presence.
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Annabel Jones believed she had a clear direction - surrounded by a supportive team, she felt prepared to present her music to the world. In the time that followed