The surprising life of Enji

Erkhembayar grew up in a yurt surrounded by her parents singing Urtiin Duu, or long song – a native musical method that stretches syllables into minute-long phrases, and no discernible structure. It all relies upon an inherent earnestness and necessity to convey the legend held within. Yet, music was never a passion for Erkhembayar. It was simply part of her life. It being her main focus was never even a pipe dream.

The 33-year-old has just arrived back in Germany, settling into her house ten minutes before our chat. She's been in Mongolia for the last three weeks, before jetting to Oslo for a show, and then back home to Munich. For a young girl from western Mongolia, Erkhembayar has forged an incredible path of her own.

With a childlike fascination for music, Erkhembayar threw herself into her heritage and culture. Growing up in a city meant there were all the usual modern amenities and an ever-growing new musical world outside of Mongolia's previous decades of communist rule. Pop, rock, indie, and jazz all have blossomed into their little scenes, exponentially growing as each new generation comes through. But, Mongolia is staunchly proud of its traditions: "Even though I grew up in the city, I had music teachers or dance teachers who would in the school teach me traditional music and dance," she explains. Erkhembayar was also one to write. If she ever felt emotional or overwhelmed, she turned to a notebook or even sang: "Music was for me just a good friend."

The only music that was truly in her life was long song. Deciding to learn the style in full, she began her musical journey. "First, I just loved it," she recalls. "How challenging and how tough this singing style is. Not that there is an extremely wide range, but you really have to understand the meaning of the song and you really have to be in this song." Mentioning how the lack of structure allows for a more free-flowing approach, the addition of lore and legend surrounding the older traditional format embraces a way of feeling and being very much not of a modern age. "There's no specific rhythm, it's through your own energy, and you would just build up your own breath and create some phrases through vowels and through sound," she explains. And with this, Erkhembayar initially decided to be a music teacher. It wasn't until a Goethe-Institut programme showed her a new option.

Arriving in 2014, led by Martin Zenker it was here that jazz came into her life. The similarities between her native song and the New Orleans sound were immediately clear to Erkhembayar. "There's so much freedom, and there's so much sophistication, and there's so much possibility that you can create," she enthuses to me. Likening it to a wise person, rather than surface-level small-talk, instead "The lyrics are so meaningful and so much storytelling and singing wisely, not only singing, but instrumentalists."

While the methods are similar, it still took Erkhembayar a while to get to grips with her newfound love. It wasn't just the jazz itself, there was the element of being a performing artist: "It was also very challenging to get used to being on stage, there was so much fear and it was a lot of work, of learning and understanding through the years," she says.

Becoming Enji the artist has indeed been a process. That's not to mention learning English and German. But melding long song with jazz was all through a case of ability. While she had instrumentals down, her unique vocal style allowed Erkhembayar to carve out her own space in the wildly wonderful jazz world. Given this was all a relative accident, her respect for her craft has grown exponentially. She cites "Tender As A Rose" by Abbey Lincoln as a favourite ("It's quite intense!"), but it's Carmen McRae's version of Jimmy Dorsey's jazz standard "I'm Glad There Is You" with which she has a unique bond. Her relationship with this one specifically was built around Erkhembayar learning English alongside this new musical world. "Back then my English was even worse, funnier. I didn't really understand like every word, but I really loved and really felt the way how she sang and also the song is very simple, as if she talking to me," she smiles softly.

In 2017, she released her debut, Mongolian Song on the German jazz label, Enja Records. Soon after she signed to Munich-based label Squarma Records, after moving there in 2018. This resulted in her second offering, 2021's Ursula. Becoming a recording artist was a tentative step for Erkhembayar: "Not so many people could speak or understand Mongolian, so I really trust whatever it is true, which was in my mother language. So I wrote the songs in Mongolian, and it opened so many doors which gave me confidence."

2023's Ulaan (which translates to 'Howl') garnered her even more critical acclaim. Recorded with Joana Queiroz, Paul Brändle, Munguntovch Tsolmonbayar, Mariá Portugal, and Matthias Lindermayr, it deftly weaves together Erkhembayar's two worlds, creating a fully formed account of her inimitable style. Sparse instrumentation leaves vast open spaces for her vocals to roam. Jazz flourishes whip and soothe in equal measure into an auditory treasure. Ulaan also resulted in her being nominated for the Anchor International Music Award at this year's Reeperbahn festival.

Celebrating up-and-coming musicians since 2016, the award takes into account the nominee's musical, lyrical, and live facets, and how this is all brought together in the artist's bigger picture. Alongside fellow nominees Moonchild Sanely, Milan Ring, KASSY, Beth McCarthy and Strongboi, Erkhembayar will be given an important platform. Previous winners include Ichiko Aoba (2022), as well as the likes of Albin Lee Meldau (2016), Yard Act (2021), and Jade Bird (2017). The winner this year will be chosen by a panel including Warpaint's Emily Kokal, Julia Stone, Tayla Parx and Tim Bendzko, and will be announced on the Saturday of this year's festival.

These little pockets of success are dear to Erkhembayar, but not integral. Certainly, drive is an earnest part of Erkhembayar's musical journey. Declaring that ego and ambition aren't necessarily exclusive after a good friend asked her the question. "Of course, they are different," she says. "And especially being ambitious in music is something that you burn for it." It's that integral fire, that passion that keeps you motivated, she says. "If you love it or you have that strong will to create something cool and something you're very passionate about and that burns you from inside, that's what it is to be ambitious."

But, as Erkhembayar fully well knows, you can't always predict the way things will go. Even with the greatest intentions, sometimes life has other ideas. "Sometimes you have a very clear vision, you have your passion, and you're ambitious about it...[but] it never went how I planned in my life. It's been always surprising," she tells me. "It's been always a different road that I had to go, and I somehow believed in it because it felt right, or because I felt that ambitious and I felt that passion. So in the end, it was a totally different story. I could not even control it."

It's why she's happy to let it all ride. Yet, the journey has only just begun for Erkhembayar: "[Life's] full of surprises. I don't really have goals because you never know."