LISTEN: Linda Draper, “All in Due Time”

Artist: Linda Draper
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Song: “All in Due Time”
Album: Patience and Lipstick
Release Date: January 21, 2022
Label: South Forty Records

In Their Words: “As the last couple of years unfolded, the ripple effect of this pandemic has hit people in different ways. I wrote this song with that in mind (it also coincided with the second wave of cases). Usually the songs I write have a bridge that leads to a new direction before resolving itself in the end. ‘All in Due Time’ doesn’t have a bridge, but instead segues into this cyclically layered chorus. I wanted the structure of the song to support the feeling in the lyrics and capture this snapshot in time when everything felt like it was in a holding pattern. I really enjoyed the collaborative spirit of recording this with Jeff Eyrich (who produced it and played bass), David Mansfield (violin), Doug Yowell (drums/percussion), Bennett Paster (piano), Steve Rossiter (who recorded my guitar and backup vocals), and Dae Bennett (who recorded my main vocals and mixed it).” – Linda Draper

https://soundcloud.com/fanaticpro/linda-draper-all-in-due-time/s-QeZAAlJAqEo


Photo credit: Jeff Um

Texas Songwriter Vincent Neil Emerson Believes Indigenous Music Is Folk Music

The self-titled country album by East Texan singer-songwriter Vincent Neil Emerson (Choctaw-Apache) oozes of the iconic “Wild West” with honky-tonk sensibilities and bluegrass touches that combine so many favorite textures and styles of country and Americana’s primordial ooze. His personality and identity are forward in every aspect of the project, from the lyrics to the production to the genre fluidity of each individual track – all of which marvelously combine into a cohesive whole.

In Emerson’s exclusive Shout & Shine live session (watch below), he performs two tracks from the album, “High on Gettin’ By” and “The Ballad of the Choctaw-Apache,” a song that dutifully tells the story of his grandmother’s community which was impacted by the creation of a man-made lake, the Toledo Bend Reservoir. The flooding of Toledo Bend had a disproportionate impact on impoverished, rural, and marginalized communities – including many Indigenous people – on the Texas-Louisiana border. 

On first listen, “The Ballad of the Choctaw-Apache” feels like many classic country songs telling of injustice and standing in opposition to empire and “the man,” but Emerson’s personal connection to the tale is the entrancing spotlight under which this song shines. As you enjoy Emerson’s performance, take in our interview, when we connected via phone to discuss the album, Emerson’s creative process, and the overarching fact that, as he puts it, “Indigenous music is folk music. Indigenous stories are part of American folklore.”

BGS: I loved listening to the album and something that’s striking to me is that it feels so country, but also combines a lot of different genre aesthetics from different subsets of country in a unique way. I hear bluegrass in it, I hear string band music in it as well as western swing and classic country. How do you approach production and deciding which songs sound like what? There are a lot of different flavors here, but they still sound cohesive as well.

Emerson: With this one I got really lucky having Rodney Crowell producing the album. I think a lot of his ideas were what I was hearing in my head anyways. It matched up very well. As far as instrumentation, song by song we sat down and said, “Here’s what I think the song needs.” We were trying to fit the instrumentation around the song and around the story of the song. As opposed to doing it the other way around. If it sounded bluegrassy, that’s because it probably needed it, I guess! 

To me it sounds like that golden age of country before it was divided into sub-genres and all country was just country. 

I appreciate that! 

What was it like working with Rodney? What was the balancing act like as far as his fingerprints being on the music and yours? 

Nothing was forced, it was kind of like, “We got this song and this is what we’re going to do.” And, “Yeah, that sounds good!” [Chuckles] I wouldn’t say he was very hands-off, he knew exactly what he was doing. I didn’t really question any move that he made. It was kind of surreal getting to work with him. 

A bystander, or a casual listener, when they hear “Ballad of the Choctaw-Apache” might just hear a country & western song, but I know for you it’s not just a classic, archetypical country song tale, it’s much more personal. It tells the iconic story of this country and this continent of the theft of land, culture, and ways of being from natives. I wonder if you could tell us a bit more about that song and how it’s more than just you writing a “rootsy” song.

I started writing that song after I sat down and talked with my grandmother about her upbringing, what she went through, and how the whole Toledo Bend Reservoir [creation in Texas and Louisiana and the displacement of natives and entire communities] affected her family. As I’ve been learning more about my tribe I felt that it was necessary to write something about that. I haven’t heard any songs written about it – in fact, not a lot of people talk about it. I thought it was needed. 

Sometimes music like yours can get pigeonholed as “time capsule music” or throwback music. Something I love about this collection of songs is that, even though it’s classic and timeless, it doesn’t feel dusty or antiquated or divorced from the present. Can you talk a bit about that? Your music is down to earth, too, but it doesn’t feel like you’re trying to make music that’s retro. 

There are a lot of bands out there that sort of play dress-up. There’s nothing wrong with that! I respect that and I’ve done it, too, but they’re trying really hard to be a certain era. I love all that music from the old school — I love Bob Wills — it’s just a personal choice. I don’t feel the need to “dress up” or try really hard to make the music sound like it was from back then. I’m so heavily influenced by the people around me and what’s going on around me constantly. 

One guy who really had a good mix of that, too, was Justin Townes Earle. He had the old-time thing going on, then he could bust out “Rogers Park,” a piano ballad, and move in and out of [many different styles]. A personal style of songwriting should be a melting pot, it should be all eras – past and present. 

Music is so subjective, I’m a firm believer in the idea that however you hear it is what it is. Whether that’s a positive thing or a negative thing to someone, I think it’s their right. I can’t tell anybody they’re wrong for forming their own opinion about my music – or anybody’s music. 

It sounds like the process of letting a song have a life of its own is a big part of the process for you and that you understand an audience is always going to project onto or perceive meaning maybe where you didn’t yourself. 

I don’t like to bounce my stuff off of people that much, because I’m going to write what I’m going to write. I don’t want to let people influence me too much in that way. But it is a really good feeling whenever you write something and you get a positive reaction or positive feedback. I think I’m more focused on the songwriting. As long as I’m being one hundred percent honest with myself in the song then I feel like it’s a tool for me to express myself completely. I feel that’s good enough. 

A point that I always try to make about country, Americana – especially “country & western” specifically – Texas swing, and western swing traditions is that none of these genres would exist without the contributions of Indigenous folks. Especially when you think about Indigenous folks living in the occupied “Wild West” before any other folks did. And there were Black and brown folks who were cowboys before white folks ever were. I feel like that’s always missed, forest-for-the-trees style, by the roots music establishment these days. Country wouldn’t exist without Indigenous folks. Do you have thoughts on that? Have you thought about how your music draws on that legacy? 

That’s something I’m still trying to understand myself and really learn about. I think you definitely have a great point there. If you think about it, the settlers came over and they didn’t know how to work the land, they didn’t know how to hunt over here. Natives taught them all that and the settlers took that information and they thrived with it. Our society would not exist in the U.S. if it weren’t for the people who were here before. And it applies to the music as well, yeah.

The album feels so western. Like rhinestones and cactuses and false-fronted buildings. It feels so “authentic,” but it’s not just about the nationalism of settling the Wild West and it’s not about these white supremacist myths about cowboys and western culture. Could you talk a bit about that aesthetic? How Texas and the West and something like cowboy poetry and storytelling come through your songwriting? 

I never really set out to try to write about these things, it’s just the things I’ve been surrounded by. I worked on a ranch for a little while. “High on the Mountain,” that song came to me while I was literally on the top of a mountain – well, it was more of a hill – while I was in Palo Duro Canyon. Growing up in Texas, seeing all that stuff, it kinda [left an impression]. A lot of it, as far as stylistically, comes from listening to people like Bob Wills and Townes Van Zandt and Blaze Foley. Anyone that I’ve been influenced by, their influence creeps into it. It’s definitely not just a brand, it’s more my life. [Laughs] I never really thought about it, actually! 

I grew up between a horse ranch and a cow pasture in East Texas. I grew up in the middle of nowhere. When you get into cities like Dallas, Fort Worth, Houston, Austin, San Antonio, these bigger cities, there’s a lot more to the area I’m from than just little podunk country towns. I learned that when I was 19. I moved over here [to the Fort Worth area] and was like, “Holy shit!” There was a lot going on. There’s a lot of rich, cultural, musical history. I’d like to dive more into that on the next record. I want to try to put some Tejano music in the blender. Maybe some polka and western swing. See what happens! If you go down around the Hill Country there’s a lot of German music, German immigrants, there are entire communities that still speak German over there. 

Maybe this is a good way to wrap up our conversation: Who’s inspiring you right now? Who are you listening to? 

As far as Indigenous artists go, I think folks really need to listen to Leo Rondeau. He is one of the baddest motherfuckers out there doing it right now. Really, really great music. In the realm of music I play, there’s not a whole lot of Indigenous people doing it. Of course, I think there are a lot of people with Indigenous heritage, but as far as being able to immediately trace your roots back like my grandmother who is Choctaw-Apache from Ebarb, Louisiana, there’s not a lot of that. It’s kind of a shame. And I’m not the end-all be-all on the subject! I’m not the most up to date on things. I’m sure there are a lot more, I’d love to learn more and hear more. It’s a good thing to bring up and a good question to ask, because it’s something people should be thinking about. 


Photo credit: Melissa Payne

LISTEN: Heather Sarona, “I’ll Be Lost”

Artist: Heather Sarona
Hometown: Holly Springs, North Carolina
Song: “I’ll Be Lost”
Album: Head Above Water
Release Date: January 28, 2022

In Their Words: “I wrote ‘I’ll Be Lost’ after I took a trip without my husband and realized I don’t know where to sleep in my bed without him next to me, anchoring me. When I got home, I wrote the first verse of the song quickly but I couldn’t figure out what to do with the second verse — the first has such a strong metaphor (‘You are the anchor in the ocean of my bed’). Where do you go from there? A year or so later, the word ‘weathervane’ popped into my head while I was playing through the beginning of the song, and from there it was an easy song to finish. I realized ‘weathervane’ was in my head from reading a book to my 2-year-old and pointing out the pictures to him. Songwriting inspiration truly comes from everywhere. Sarah McCombie joins me on this track on clawhammer banjo and Libby Rodenbough on fiddle.” — Heather Sarona


Photo credit: Buku Photos

LISTEN: Ryan Culwell, “Colorado Blues”

Artist: Ryan Culwell
Hometown: Perryton, Texas
Song: “Colorado Blues”
Album: Run Like a Bull
Release Date: January 28, 2022
Label: Missing Piece Records

In Their Words: “A friend of mine recently reminded me of the three wise men who followed the star to see Christ, but returned home via a different route because Herod wanted to kill them. My wife and I have been aching to go home for some time, but backtracking seems a deadly way to go. There’s no undoing your becoming. We both teared up in the kitchen the first time I sang the bridge to ‘Colorado Blues’: ‘Oh Lord come and find me.’ And now we’re headed home, but perhaps more prodigal than wise.” — Ryan Culwell


Photo credit: Neilson Hubbard

WATCH: Best Western, “Peace of Mind”

Artist: Best Western
Hometown: Melbourne, Australia
Song: “Peace of Mind”
Album: Best Western (EP)
Release Date: December 3, 2021

In Their Words: “‘Peace of Mind’ is a restless tune. It’s a dialogue between two people. It’s that feeling of inertia that creeps in from time to time. When your mind begins to wander, taunts you with possibilities and missed opportunities. The song was recorded live with us all sitting in a circle facing one another — the only track on the EP done that way. The recording style seems to have imbued the song with a certain intimacy.” — Zack Buchanan, Best Western


Photo credit: Tajette O’Halloran

Amos Lee Sends a Hometown Message in “Worry No More”

Amos Lee‘s “Worry No More,” is an anthem for optimism, reminding us with an easy melody and a heartwarming video that anxiety does not have to control us. Looking to further open conversations around mental health and anxiety, the single is a microcosm of the upcoming album, Dreamland, slated for a February 11 release on Dualtone Records.

“I’ve had a lot of episodes with anxiety in my life and now I feel much more equipped to handle them, partly because my family and friends have always been so supportive of me,” says Lee. “Music has also been so healing for me, and helped me to find a place in my mind that isn’t purely controlled by fear.”

Mirroring the song’s message, the music video celebrates Lee’s hometown of Philadelphia and more broadly heralds the comfort and rest that can be found at home. In the video, locals are finding reasons to smile in the face of some less-than-bright circumstances. In a nod to his upbringing, the songwriter himself is seen singing in Star Garden Park, the actual park that he grew up playing in. For a beautiful homage to the city of brotherly love and a gentle song about peace and tranquility, take a look at “Worry No More.”


Photo Credit: Shervin Lainez

WATCH: firekid, “Blue Roses”

Artist: firekid (Dillon Hodges & Heidi Feek)
Hometown: Florence, Alabama
Song: “Blue Roses”
Album: Muscle Shoals Metaphysical
Release Date: December 10, 2021

In Their Words: “I see myself as a pessimist by nature, but I somehow ended up with the most delusional optimist to ever orbit the earth. Dillon has shown me that the way we look at things and the stories we tell ourselves, will create our worldview. For me, it’s less about positive thoughts and more about gratitude for the world even with all its flaws that lead to my pessimism. A blue rose (as with most blue flowers) is not something that exists in nature, so it must be painted or bred. In much the same way, life is antecedent to meaning and beauty. ‘Blue Roses’ is an existential take on the beauty of personal meaning and values.” — Heidi Feek


Photo Credit: Melanie Hodges

WATCH: Sam Weber, “Here’s to the Future”

Artist: Sam Weber
Hometown: North Saanich, BC, Canada
Song: “Here’s to The Future”
Album: Get Free
Release Date: February 4, 2022
Label: Sonic Unyon

In Their Words: “Every album cycle brings one song that cuts me right to the core. Like a three-year cross-section of every complex life moment laid bare in the simplest words. Through confronting my deepest, heaviest truths through these songs I am able to see the world in a new way. ‘Here’s to the Future’ was that song for me, but also a toast and a prayer to the better and brighter days ahead. The first verse is sort of about leaving home and running from pain. The video is a compilation of Super 8 footage we took on some of my many drives from British Columbia, where I’m from, to LA where I am now.” — Sam Weber


Photo Credit: Jacob Boll

Steady on Her Feet, Emily Scott Robinson Heeds the Call of ‘American Sirens’

From the stillness and quiet of the last year and a half, Emily Scott Robinson has emerged with a burst of built-up energy and creativity – not to mention a record deal – all culminating in the release of her new album, American Siren, her first release in partnership with Oh Boy Records.

Writing about characters both real and imagined, her storytelling skills are on full display across the album’s ten tracks, as she speaks to deep truths of lost love, lessons learned and dreams yet to be realized. Based in Telluride, Colorado, Robinson spoke with the Bluegrass Situation about building a foundation as an independent touring artist, her advice for songwriters in need of inspiration, and the song of hers which inevitably makes grown men cry.

BGS: American Siren is described as an album that “beckons to those who are lost, lonely or learning the hard way” – which sounds like exactly what people may be needing here in 2021. How much of this album was written during the pandemic and how did that impact your songwriting on this album?

Emily Scott Robinson: That’s a great question. Most of this record was written during the pandemic. One or two were written before COVID. “Cheap Seats,” I wrote in the fall of 2019. And then “Old North State,” which is the homage to my home state of North Carolina, where I was born and raised, was also put together before the pandemic. But all the other songs were written and completed during the pandemic. I think that that gives them a more shadowy tone in general, a deeper exploration of life and transitional periods and change and darkness and kind of what lies beneath the surface when you slow down enough for the water to stop swirling.

To you, what’s the through line thematically between these ten tracks?

You know, I don’t know that there is a specific through line because some of the stories are so unique, but there is an overall really feminine feel to this record. A lot of the songs in the stories are exploring women and women’s stories. They are exploring universal themes, but ones that I see a lot as a woman in my experience and in the lives of my friends who are women. Women who are, like, untamed! [laughs] Or a little bit wild. So, I think the siren theme — the idea that in every song, there’s either something calling to the character or the character is also calling out for something. I think that that works really well.

“Things You Learn the Hard Way” is filled with life lessons and wisdom that we all wish we knew earlier. And you actually did a bit of crowdsourcing when writing this one by asking your social media followers for scenarios and lessons learned. Was that a fun writing and research exercise for you?

Oh, it was so fun! I mean, it’s fun because I can pinpoint who in the world gave me each line. It’s funny because you can sort of see the progress, like the first verse is mostly my stuff. All the stuff about cars, that’s all mine. [laughs] That’s all stuff I learned the hard way. And then I ran out of stuff to write. So, I got on Facebook and this was at the height of the initial lockdown. So, it was in April or May of 2020. And I just asked people, what were some things they’d learned the hard way? And I got so many comments, like over 200 and they were amazing. It was the best. It was so incredible and some of them were so funny. And some of them were totally devastating and wild.

It makes the song special, too, because it’s almost like it’s a song you share with the fans, too, right?

Yeah, completely. The actual thread itself is so beautiful and therapeutic. It just catches this whole range of human experiences. And this is my philosophy as a songwriter: you’ll never run out of things if you just talk to people. People are remarkable and people contain so much and they have the most incredible wild stories and there’s so much that people can tell you. And so, if you feel like you don’t have anything to write about, just go pay attention to the world, like get out of your own head. Just go look around and see what people are living through. … People are sometimes the worst and oftentimes the best and sometimes they’re just struggling right in the middle. I think to be a great songwriter who connects with people, you have to love people. You have to see them in all their beauty and all their ugliness and everything in between, so that’s really where that song comes from.

“Let ‘Em Burn” is a powerful standout that has gotten a lot of attention. And you partially drew some inspiration for this one from Glennon Doyle’s book, Untamed?

Yes. And I love this because I had read Glennon Doyle’s book, and I’d also read a lot of Elizabeth Gilbert’s work. And Elizabeth Gilbert was also in a similar kind of first marriage where she was this character – she didn’t have children, but she wanted to leave and didn’t know if she could and didn’t want to hurt a good man and all of this. And so, I kind of took all those women and put them into the same song. [laughs] For me, having grown up in the South, I know this character really well. It’s not unique to the South, but the woman who follows all the rules and the prescribed rules that she thinks she needs to fulfill in her life in order to be happy. And when it’s her by herself, she looks in at her life and she’s not happy. And so, it’s that question of what happens if a woman centers herself in her own story? What has to change and what has to be destroyed in order for that to happen?

I have had so many people, men and women just cry through this song. This is the song that makes grown men cry. I am telling you! I am so honored that I can transmit a song that would connect to people so powerfully, that they would be so deeply moved, that I would have 70-year-old men in the audience come up to me with tears in their eyes and ask me to write “Let ‘Em Burn” on their record that I’m signing. I mean, it’s so special to me. It’s a song that’s so much bigger than me, and I’m so grateful that I was the one who got to pull it out of the ether.

“Hometown Hero” is a very personal story about your cousin, who died by suicide. Was there any hesitation in writing and sharing something so painful, or was this a way to help you cope with it?

James is my first cousin. And I did want to follow the lead of his immediate family. I would never have shared this story in such a personal way if it was damaging or not something that his family wanted, but his family, my family, have all been really, really honest — including in his obituary and at his service and in talking to people about his life — about how he died and what he struggled with. I felt comfortable writing a song that was biographical and that was true in its detail because they were truthful about his life and his death.

We had a service for him, and it was a full military funeral service, and those images from that day burned onto my memory. I took notes in my journal that night because I didn’t want to forget that day. I knew at some point that I would probably write about it. And I understood that this was a thing that was also universal for thousands of other families and loved ones who were left behind when they lost a veteran in this way or when they lost anybody in this way, this song can be for anybody who lost someone to suicide. I perform this song in every full-length show that I play because there are a lot of people who need to hear it and want to hear it. It tells a story that is familiar to them. It’s a catharsis for them and that’s a healing thing.

You sing about dreams coming true someday in “Cheap Seats.” Does it already feel like with this album and the recognition you’ve gotten these last few years that some of those dreams are already being realized?

Oh, 100 percent. I feel like I’m that girl in that song … I am the girl in that song. I knew I had something inside of me that wanted to get out, and that’s really what that song is about. I firmly believe — this has been my experience in my life — that you have to fully experience where you are in order to be ready for the next phase. And there’s a line in there that’s so true for me, “I want everything before I’m ready.” And the true gift of my life is that they’ve always waited for me until I could enjoy them, until I could handle them.

If I would’ve gotten a record deal a couple of years ago, with the stress or the pressure of that, and the self-confidence that I didn’t quite have … I have this level of confidence and connectedness to my own work and my audiences now that I didn’t have three years ago. Because I built that being an independent touring artist. I built this deep well — it’s like I put down these deep roots of being so steady on my own feet that anything that came or went around me could not shake what I have within me. And that is a true place of beauty and power to approach the next phase of my career from.


Photo Credit: Cal & Aly

Yola Chooses to Stand For Herself, But She’s Always Looking for Big Ol’ Softies

Speaking to Yola over Zoom is way more fun than a video call has any right to be. From the time she dials in from the UK, she’s ready to chat. Good thing, because there’s a lot to talk about. About a week earlier, she picked up two Grammy nominations in the American Roots Music category of Best American Roots Song (“Diamond Studded Shoes”) and Best Americana Album (Stand For Myself), and she’s clearly still exhilarated by it.

“It’s very hard for it to even land because it feels really super surreal,” she says. “I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m endlessly grateful to the work that everyone puts in to get me to this point, and honestly, the faith that people have to let me lead at all. I wasn’t always in positions like that, ones that would let me lead.”

She’s speaking of a different kind of leadership style than, say, former British Prime Minister Theresa May, whose sparkly footwear worn during a speech about childhood poverty led to the idea of writing “Diamond Studded Shoes.” Although it does have a feel-good groove, you can’t miss its message of inequality. “And that’s why we gots to fight,” she sings.

To create Stand for Myself, her second album on Nashville-based label Easy Eye Sound, Yola reunited with producer-songwriter Dan Auerbach, and she also pulled in a roster of friends like Brandi Carlile (who sings on “Be My Friend”) and songwriters such as Natalie Hemby (who co-wrote five of the 12 songs) and Aaron Lee Tasjan (a co-writer on “Diamond Studded Shoes”). Still, the defining voice of Stand for Myself is, of course, Yola herself.

BGS: When I was listening to this record again, I was thinking that it does seem like a roots record in the sense that it traces your path from the beginning of your story. And as the album progress, here’s the blossoming at the end. Is that fair to say?

You nailed it. You got it. You felt it. You felt the emotions! It is. I was a bit of a doormat at the beginning and minimizing myself. Joy Oladokun and I were talking about when you grow up as a token Black person in an environment that there aren’t a lot of Black people in, and you’re trying to play guitar and trying to fit in, and you’re not fitting into a trope. … So, we’re in this minimizing, trying-to-fit-in phase. Trying to fit into Eurocentric life as non-Eurocentric people. That’s where we start the album, and then “Dancing Away in Tears” is a bit like a growing out of a relationship, romantically, but obviously it can be socially as well. When I’m singing it, it’s kind of both. It’s like growing out of an environment and just needing to be in another space.

And as you go through the record, “Diamond Studded Shoes” is about the idea of how the macro affects you. You might grow out of a microcosm, but the macro is going to affect how you interact. … Because I’m moving through that, I’m realizing the environment that I’m in and I’m realizing what I want from it, which is essentially connection. I think that’s why by the time we get to “Be My Friend,” you start to realize that I want to connect to people who want to connect to people! (laughs) That’s really what it is! And then I finally do, and as a result, I blossom. As I think humans do. Humans *like* humans, and when they feel seen, they blossom.

That’s really this record. It’s feeling seen, feeling loved, feeling allowed to grow and to do things without someone being like, “Oh, you didn’t serve me. Therefore I’m going to sabotage your existence,” which has been a lot of my life. Or people saying, “Oh, you outgrew me and I don’t like that, so I’m going to sabotage your existence.” It never seems to end, that idea. Or to sabotage people that are trying to help you get somewhere, so it’s not just you. It’s your friend or your squad or whatever. I’m dealing with that. I think “Whatever You Want” is about that, what I like to affectionately call the “bro”-tocracy, a top-down “bro”-tocratic system! (laughs)

This record is called Stand for Myself and not Stand BY Myself. You have surrounded yourself with important people here.

Yes! Just loving people. Big ol’ heart people! Softies! They might be badasses. Brandi and Natalie are some of my besties. Absolute softies of the highest order! That’s really what I’m looking for. I meet all sorts of people, and the people that will stick around in my life, that I will never outgrow, will be those big ol’ softies. Soft badasses! That’s my type!

When you are putting a band together, what qualities are you looking for?

Exactly the same qualities. A badass giant softie who can survive a five-hour brunch with me … and want more! (laughs) For real! Megan [Coleman], the drummer, is one of my best friends of all time. We’re doing Christmas together. She came around for a distance-hang in my yard during lockdown and we were like, “Oh, it’s so hot and disgusting!” We would be spraying water and fanning ourselves and trying to drink gin and tonic, just hanging out! We can spend hours — hours! — talking crap.

You’ve got to live with these people! Literally live in a box with these people. They’ve got to be your favorite people and they better be really amazing at doing their job, because you don’t want to micromanage them the whole time. No one wants to do that, but you want them to be excellent — excellent people, excellent at their job. So, that’s my type. That’s always the type of people I write with. Everything. When I can’t find that, I just wait. I’m patient until I can find that.

Let’s talk about patience. That seems to be a theme in your life. Can you talk about how patience has factored into your story?

Patience has factored into it. I wasn’t really aware of the time it was taking because I could always see the incremental steps, so I think that’s what makes it tolerable. If you were 19 and someone said, “Hey, it’s going to take this long,” you would say, “WHAT THE FREAK?!” It would be horrific! But you don’t know, and you only see every little step.

For example, from a young age, I was touring with DJ producers. We were opening for James Brown in Australia on this tour that this millionaire (now billionaire) guy would put on, just for his own personal entertainment. It was ridiculous money. … It felt like I was on my way because we were doing 20,000-plus natural amphitheater shows in Melbourne, Brisbane, Sydney, Perth … I felt like I was in it. I was in a band called Bugs in the Attic. They were signed and doing some things. But then it just took so much more time, and I got nodules and lost my voice. I had to quit all my jobs. My body wasn’t happy. I was internalizing all of this dissatisfaction instead of expressing it or dealing with it — or knowing how to deal with it or knowing anyone that would let me speak adjacently about what was on my mind.

I allowed people to clip my wings a little bit because I was of some use to other people. I had useful skill sets, so if I was in service, I was often making people a lot of money. And not myself! But other people. *Loads of money.* And loads of acts did good off the back of me. That was something that started becoming too evident. (laughs) I was like, I can’t have this! You know what? I’m going to have to be the master of my own identity.

You’ve been wanting to do this since you were 4 years old, right?

For real. One hundred percent, yeah, I have. I knew it. What I am doing right now is what my 4-year-old self said I should do. But I kept on getting talked out of doing what my 4-year-old self said, because I couldn’t possibly know at that age, right? Only I totally did! And they were like, “Maybe you should be a backing singer.” I don’t wanna do that. Or “Maybe you should be in a band.” Well, I’ll try it, but I don’t know if I wanna do that either. Or “Maybe you should just write for other people.” That sounds like fun, but I feel like I’ve got something to do myself. Or “Maybe you shouldn’t do it at all.” There were so many different options other than maybe just support you in being the artist. It’s a bit of a way around the houses, you know, but my 4-year-old self was dead-on. I should have just listened to her!

On your first record, Walk Through Fire, you’re pictured on the cover playing your guitar. Has that always been part of your dream, to be an instrumentalist as well as a singer and songwriter?

Oh, I’ve only picked up a guitar comparatively recently to most of my friends. I picked it up in 2014. I was a topliner before that – lyrics and melody, which is much of the song still. But I was very codependent. I was always reacting to people’s chords. It was harder for me to get something out on my own. People around me seemed very hellbent on making sure I couldn’t get things out on my own because if I wasn’t codependent, then all of a sudden they don’t have this topliner who can do all of the stuff. They’d tell me, “You don’t need to pick up the guitar. Don’t worry about it.” It’s really hard to play C, D, and G. I wouldn’t even look into it! (laughs) “I don’t think you have the inclination to play the guitar.” That’s what someone said to me. “It’s going to require a staying power that I don’t think you have, so you know, try something else. Everybody’s got things they’re good at. You’re good at loads of stuff. Just not that.”

Before you even tried it, people told you that you weren’t good at it?

Yeah! But when you’re in your early 20s, you don’t realize how much you don’t know. You think you’re real smart, and you’re officially an adult, and you managed to not die. You’ve put yourself in some sketchy situations and not died! There is something to that. We weren’t activists trying to save the planet. We were drunk! So, yeah, you’re naïve and you’re trusting, I suppose. But the 20s are for that. That’s where you make all of your mistakes. That’s what the whole decade is for: “Whoops! Oh no!” Then you get to 29 and you realize it’s not sustainable. And you have what I like to affectionately term “The 29 Panic.” (laughs) You purge a lot of weirdos and try to get it together.

You’re going into 2022 with these Grammy nominations and you’re going to be in a movie next year, too. And you have more things in store, I’m sure. What are you enjoying the most about this time of your career?

I felt like over the first cycle, we were all learning how to do what we’re now doing. I like to convert people. I converted people on my team from adjacent trades that I knew would equip them exclusively for what I needed them to do. (laughs) So, I’ve got this absolute team of badasses and we’re able to go into situations that look impossible and nail it. We convert situations that are way outside of our price tag. Way outside of all sorts of things! It’s exciting to know that you can handle something and actually have a plan. It may be somewhat ridiculous, and we don’t know how we’re going to do it, and we definitely can’t afford it, but we’re going to get it over the line, you know? It’s that fight!


Photo Credit: Joseph Ross Smith