The Power of Connection: Inside the Jelly Elephant with Musician Erica Carr
By ANABEL TAMASOVICH
APRIL 10, 2026
“The power of being in a group of people that are all focused on the same thing — that energy is electric.”
Those are musician Erica Carr’s words about the magic of creating music with others. Fittingly, her sentiment could serve as the perfect motto for the atmosphere at The Jelly Elephant, a haven her husband, Bray Carr, created for musicians in Gordon, Georgia twenty-two years ago.
Though it’s a one-light town, The Jelly—as the regulars call it—offers more than enough reason for anyone interested in the music scene to visit. Every Saturday night at 8 p.m., Erica, Bray, and a host of salt-of-the-earth musicians gather for a collaborative open mic. And take it from me: it’s an experience you don’t want to miss.
I still remember the first time I walked under that neon blue sign. Wide-eyed and guitar in hand, I opened the door to a charming little building and stumbled into a room filled with a dozen or so brilliant musicians. I didn’t know a soul. Within seconds, it was clear these folks could jam.
Intimidating? It very easily could have been, but as luck (or maybe fate) would have it, Erica Carr stood front and center as I entered the room. Without hesitation, she welcomed me with open arms. Her warmth, combined with the Jelly’s ambiance, makes it impossible to feel out of place.
The walls are adorned with folk art and instruments, soft light scatters across the studio, and the whole space feels safe, warm, and inviting—like a nostalgic gathering of friends at home.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Erica took the mic and completely hypnotized the crowd. Her original songs were stunning—so much so that when we started planning our inaugural editorial here at Screen Door, she was the first artist that came to mind.
Before I knew it, we were sitting down at the Jelly to discuss some of her singles and upcoming debut album, Evidence of Affection.
When I ask her to start from the beginning, she smiles and reflects. “I was a singer first,” she says. “Sang in choir, sang in bands, sang in musical theatre, sang in community choirs, washboard band in college—you name it.” She credits her love for harmonies and vocal precision to those early choir experiences, where she was classically trained in voice. That training shines through the moment you hear her sing.
It wasn’t until around 2018, though, that Erica decided it was time to accompany herself with an instrument. Her choice? The concert ukulele. While it’s not the most conventional lead instrument, it’s part of what makes her sound so distinctive. She later graduated to the baritone ukulele and on Evidence of Affection, it’s a constant thread, tying together a range of genres and moods.
When I ask about her songwriting process, she pauses—thoughtful, sincere, and grounded, just like her music. “It’s mostly therapeutic,” she admits. “I’m sorting out things inside myself in relation to people I love…people I’ve lost. Watching people I love go through things—sometimes characters will inspire me, but they’re real people, and I’m extrapolating who I think they are if I write in their voice. Mostly, though, it’s my own experience.”
Curious, I ask if there’s one song that felt the most therapeutic to write. She first replies, “Oh yeah!” But as we talk through each track, it becomes clearer and clearer that every song holds its own weight and meaning. Clearly, the album’s title, Evidence of Affection, couldn’t be more fitting, as each track embodies this sentiment—it’s a collection made with genuine emotion and deep love.
Fun fact: the title comes from a lyric in her song “Jenny & Johnny,” a rhythmic folk ballad that is sure to have listeners tapping their feet. But not every track shares that same energy—that’s part of what makes her work so special. There’s something for everyone.
When I ask Erica what genre best captures the album, she laughs. “I have no idea how I’d categorize it—maybe pop/country/rock/alternative/singer-songwriter?” Fair enough. She elaborates, “This album is kind of an exercise in songwriting. I said, oh, let me write a little gnarly rock song—that’s ‘Blank Face’. Then I thought, let me write a dreamy, really juicy pop song—that’s ‘Wonder’.”
“Wonder” also happens to be her first released single. “I chose it because a few people I shared it with said, ‘You need to let this one out first.’ It’s kind of a one-off on the album, but it’s beautiful—it shows that I can sing, and the lyrics are thoughtful.”
She lights up talking about her band in regards to this song: “Nathan playing that guitar lick just carries you throughout. Everything about the way that song was carved and created just landed so perfectly. I felt like, yeah, let’s go with ‘Wonder’.” As a listener—and fan—I completely agree.
Speaking of the band, Erica’s gang is just as impressive as she is. With Bray Carr on bass, Amy Clegg and Lola Cameron on backup vocals, Tim Gardner on drums, and Nathan Whatley on lead guitar, the group’s chemistry is undeniable. “When I write my songs, it's just me and the ukulele and then when I bring them to the band…sometimes I have very specific things that I hear on a song that I want from [the band], but a lot of times, each of them as an artist has the freedom to bring their own thing to it, and then it's got skin and bones, you know, in a way that it never would if it were just me.”.
Perhaps the most captivating thing about Erica Carr, though, is how evident her affection truly is—for life, for music, and for the people she shares it with. Her words, both in song and conversation, reflect a rare kind of honesty and warmth.
Check out Evidence of Affection, and follow Erica for upcoming show dates. If you’re lucky, you might just catch her live at The Jelly—where that “electric energy” she spoke of comes vividly to life.