Sixteen years after first recording with producer Tom Camuso, she found herself back in a room with him, this time surrounded by the history of the Les Paul Foundation Studio. It is the kind of full-circle moment that could easily invite nostalgia. Instead, it seems to have opened something forward-looking.
Across new standalone songs, collaborations, live work and the possibility of another record, she is increasingly interested in what happens when perfection loosens its grip. Songs can remain unfinished. Rough edges can stay visible. Old ideas can be heard differently. And artistic growth does not always need a milestone attached to it.
We spoke about returning to old creative relationships, writing through small human details, learning to trust messiness, putting down roots in Los Angeles and finding a balance between contentment and the desire to keep moving.
01 — RETURNING TO THE ROOM
You first worked with Tom Camuso on Rattle the Windows in 2010, and now, sixteen years later, you’ve found yourselves recording together again at the Les Paul Foundation Studio. There’s something almost circular about that. When someone who knew your voice and your instincts that early hears you again after all those years, what do you think they hear that has changed, and what do you hope is still recognizably you?
Wow you dug up that old record!! I met Tom Camuso in Brooklyn through his assistant at the time, Rob Corso. Rob was doing sound on a Nickelodeon commercial I had a bit part in and mentioned he worked at a studio in Greenpoint. I went to check it out and made my 1st EP there. Tom was so kind and generous, he’s worked with so many heavy hitters, already had a Grammy at the time - but really took the time to help me figure out what I wanted to make – there was a real sense of play and discovery. I had no idea what I was doing. I have a lot of tenderness for that EP and that time in my life – and that young woman who was trying to figure things out.
Tom moved to L.A. to head up the Les Paul studio and invited me over to check it out and track a few things as he was testing the gear. We hadn’t really seen each other in a decade but fell right back into a flow.
02 — HISTORY IN THE ROOM
Those Les Paul sessions carry several layers of history at once: the original console, the connection to Les Paul and Mary Ford through Smoke Rings, and your own history with Tom. You’ve described the experience as almost spiritual. Did being that conscious of the history in the room change the way you actually performed, or did you have to forget about all of it once the tape started rolling?
It was meaningful to get to record in that room with so much history. And to reconnect with an old friend - we knew each other when we were in totally different places in our lives. I think that ease carries into the music.
My friends Leeann Skoda, Jason Roberts & Aaron Stern came through and tracked vocals, guitar and bass. We were all starstruck to be recording on that console of course - the guys played Les Paul’s guitars for some of the takes. That was pretty magical.
But for sure – once we were working on these songs we weren’t really thinking about all that. Just trying to create something we were all proud of.
03 — THE MOVING TARGET
The songs you’re releasing now are standalone for the moment, but you’ve also said that some might eventually appear in alternate versions on a future LP. That suggests a recorded song doesn’t necessarily become fixed the moment it’s released. When does a song feel “finished” to you, and what would have to change in your relationship with a song for you to want to record it again?
That’s a great question. It can be a moving target – I have older songs that felt finished at the time that I now have the urge to re-record because the production overpowers the actual song. Production choices I made that feel attached to a certain time period. Maybe it’s a little perfectionism - which I’m trying to let go of. At the same time, I like hearing different recordings of the same song. I hear it differently – I pick up on different lyrics, different feelings.
04 — THE SMALLER STORY
Fragile comes from such a strange, specific social moment: that first party after lockdown, when everyone wanted connection but seemed to have forgotten some of the choreography of being around other people. You took something historically enormous and wrote through tiny details, awkward conversation, physical distance, even humor. Why did that smaller, slightly funny lens feel more truthful to you than writing something overtly heavy about that period?
I think the most universal writing actually comes from very specific details – and the broader story is sometimes harder to hook into. You see it on the news all the time. You’re concerned and maybe moved by the bigger story but it really hits your heart if you’re learning about it through one person’s struggle and experience. We get invested in that smaller story because we can see our own humanity in it. I find it easier to write about big ideas from that lens. It feels more truthful and I hope in the end more relatable.
05 — PROCEED WITH ABANDON
In Shoot the Moon, the Hearts metaphor makes risk inseparable from the possibility of reward: going all in means accepting the big wins as well as the painful losses. Since Hellbent & Moonbound, has your own understanding of artistic risk changed? What feels worth gambling on now that might not have a few years ago?
It’s interesting you ask that question. Lately, I’ve been trying to challenge myself to be more messy, more vulnerable in my art. I get a little perfectionist (as I mentioned earlier) or attached to certain rules and structures. I love this quote from Patti Smith, “In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth.” So that’s something I’m working on – allowing my subconscious to guide me more. To get over the fear of making something bad, or something I don’t understand yet. When I’m holding on too tight that definitely shows up in my art too.
06 — DREAMING IN A CIRCLE
There’s much less public explanation around Your Move Now, which makes it one of the more mysterious songs from this period. Where did that song actually begin for you, emotionally or narratively, and what made it feel like the right song to put into the world when you did?
I wrote Your Move Now with Marshall Gallagher when our publishers set us up on a co-write a few years back. It feels very different from my other work, but I loved the song and I wanted it to live in the world. It’s about how hard it can be to take the leap and leave something familiar and comforting even when it’s unhealthy or stagnant. The chorus - specifically “Dreaming in a circle” speaks to how later in life we seek out the same dynamics we were familiar with in our family of origin because they feel comfortable. But often they aren’t serving us in becoming the most luminous, self-actualized versions of ourselves.
07 — VIBE OVER POLISH
Over the last few years, so much of your work seems to have happened through live encounters: Folk Alliance, AMERICANAFEST, touring, the collaboration with The Steel Wheels, playing with The Bones of J.R. Jones, the live Hellbent recordings, and now Square One with Anna Ash. Has spending that much time inside songs in front of people changed what you want from them when you eventually enter a studio?
It’s made me want to really live with the songs and the band before we go to record. I want to track the next record like that - just a few days with the band in the studio, minimal overdubs. Prioritizing vibe and energy over polish.
08 — GOOD FOR NOW
With Virgin Ears, you’re regularly hearing songs while they’re still vulnerable, before production, release campaigns or repetition have taught everyone what they’re “supposed” to be. Has listening to other writers at that stage changed the way you hear your own unfinished songs, especially the instinct to revise something versus simply leaving its rough edges alone?
Absolutely! It’s really inspired me to write more and to write through the bad songs even when it’s really hard. To get something to a “good for now” state and then set it aside for the time being. It’s humanized songwriters I admire so much – hearing something in the early stages that’s still forming – that’s given me permission to allow songs to be messy before they come fully into focus.
09 — PUTTING DOWN ROOTS
Years ago, you described yourself as “rootless, not quite belonging to either place.” Now you’re helping create very local spaces through Glow Big L.A., youth open mics, workshops and songwriter gatherings. I don’t want to assume that building community automatically resolves that feeling, so I’m curious: does the word rootless still feel accurate to you now, or has its meaning changed?
Such a thoughtful question. For sure, I think creating my own chosen family and community has resolved some of that old feeling of rootlessness. Also being a mother – our family is putting down roots, building strong relationships here in Los Angeles. Being able to give that to my daughter feels healing to my husband and I as well.
10 — TWO-THIRDS CONTENTMENT
There still isn’t a new album sitting there to define this chapter for you. Instead, there are standalone songs, live records, collaborations, community work and the possibility of going back into the studio this winter. At this point in your life, how do you recognize artistic growth when it’s happening? Is it something you still measure through records and milestones, or has the definition become more complicated?
I hope I’ll always be growing as an artist and musician - as a human! I don’t know if I see this growth as it’s happening – and I don’t think it’s linear. I think as young people we know things that we have to re-commit to as we age. Like a healthy curiosity in the world and a desire to participate.
I loved this phrase I read in “Bobcat” by Rebecca Lee – the ideal ratio for life is “two-thirds contentment and one-third desire.” This is a touchstone I’m thinking a lot about lately. Having gratitude for all I have and built and a healthy drive to create, grow and experience more.
My favorite thing about this release is the Fragile hotline we started to celebrate it. People can call 1(844)-4-FRAGILE, listen to the whole song and leave a message. I’ve been putting posters up all over town and friends have been putting them up in their cities across America. I’ve gotten so many calls. It’s been beautiful to hear how they’ve been feeling fragile. I’ve been feeling really grateful to connect with - mostly complete strangers - in that way.