By: Kaylyn Bell
Q) “Fuel on the Fire” feels both intimate and cinematic. Can you walk us through how the song took shape — from the first spark of an idea to its fully realized form?
A) This song came about when I spent two weeks alone in the wilds of Scotland. No phone, no map – just a guitar and the land. I’d spend the days walking, foraging, listening to the wind in the heather, and at night I’d play by the fire. The first chords arrived there. When I came back to the studio, I kept those same bones but built them outwards, layering in field recordings from the trip and textures that carried that same sense of space and solitude. I wanted the finished song to still feel like it was born in the wilderness, with the embers of that fire still glowing in it but also, I wanted it to grow into something massive and studio quality which is where we tried to take it at the end. The sonics of the song mirror the content of the lyrics from a fragile place into a fearless one.
Q) You’ve described the track as a “phoenix rising from the ashes.” What personal experiences or turning points shaped that transformation for you?
A) The song came out of a period where a lot had fallen apart; projects, relationships, the way I thought my life was meant to look. At some point you realize you can’t just patch things up; you have to let them burn and start from the blackened ground. It’s not a triumphant, movie-ending kind of rising. It’s slower, stranger, but there’s a beauty in watching something new take root where the old thing used to be.
Q) Your music blends indie folk and folktronica in a way that feels very organic. Was this fusion intentional from the start,or did it emerge naturally through your songwriting process?
A) It wasn’t calculated; it’s just the sound of my two musical worlds colliding. I grew up with folk music, the rawness of a voice and an instrument, but I also love the possibilities of electronics — how you can make a sound feel like it came from some dream-landscape. When I write, I don’t think this needs to be more folk or more electronic. I just follow what the song is asking for.
Q) You’ve toured extensively, supporting artists like FINK and RY X, and playing everywhere from Omeara to La Boule Noire. How have those live experiences shaped you as a performer and storyteller?
A) Touring teaches you to find the center of a song no matter what’s happening, whether you’re in a sold-out theatre or playing to a half-full room where the sound system’s misbehaving. It’s also shown me how much a crowd can transform a performance. Some nights the audience leans in so close it feels like we’re all holding our breath together and that’s the magic, when it stops feeling like me performing to you and becomes us making this moment together.
Q) Beyond the music itself, your journey has included collaborations with visual artists, prestigious commissions, and exhibitions at the Tate Modern and Barbican. How do those cross-disciplinary influences feed into your songwriting?
A) Working in those other worlds changes how I think about music. Visual artists, for example, often talk in textures, light and movement rather than chords or melodies. When that seeps in, I start thinking about a song as a space you can walk through or a piece of weather you can stand in. It’s made me less concerned with just writing songs and more interested in creating little worlds people can inhabit, even if only for a few minutes. I hope those worlds can remind people about the beauty of the world. Visual, sonic, narrative – they all tie into the worlds.
Q) Despite the somber tone, it feels like it ends on a hopeful note. What do you hope people take away from this song?
A) I never sit down thinking, “What do I want people to take away?” For me, it was just trying to put into sound what it feels like to stand in the ashes of something and still sense a spark. Life knocks you flat, but there’s usually this tiny pulse that refuses to die out. That’s what I was holding onto. If people hear that and it reminds them that they’ve still got something burning in them, then I guess the song’s done its work.
Q) How does the cover art reflect the message of “Fuel on the Fire” and where did the idea for the concept come from?
A) The artwork shows two figures caught in the fire together. I wanted it to feel fragile and fierce at the same time, destruction and intimacy side by side. Fire can be violent, but it can also fuse things, transform them. That’s what the song is about, too.
Q) With “Fuel on the Fire” out now, is this a prelude to a full album or an EP?
A) It’s part of a bigger body of work, but I’m not ready to announce exactly what that is yet. This song is one piece of the puzzle.
Q) You will be performing at the Kernowfornia Festival in September. What are some of your favorite songs to perform live?
A) Yes, I will be. “More” is my favorite. It feels different every time I play it, like it reshapes itself depending on the night. That unpredictability makes it exciting, both for me and hopefully for the people listening.
Q) Who are some artists that you would love to collaborate with on music in the future?
A) Hozier – for how he makes the folk tradition feel alive and modern. Jon Hopkins for the way he uses space and silence. And Lorn – his music has this haunted, visceral power that I’ve always deeply admired.
Q) What would you like to say to everyone who are fans and supporters of you and your work?
A) Just thank you. It is a joy seeing the music go out into people’s lives.