I want to ask you more about your family. I also want to ask more about your creative process and especially this sense of re-finding your creative voice in a different way. But also, when you were speaking just now, something came up in me, because I obviously identify with so much that you're saying, and as a mum, that really rings true for me. It just has to sit in a different space. It's the great love, and it's not the only love, and it's not the first love. So, it has to sit in a different space.

Sometimes—and it happened just now as you were speaking—there's this little bit of grief that pops up that's like, "God, what would it be like at this stage, in my musicianship?" To just go deep dive and be in a studio or on a music retreat for three weeks. Somewhere in a cabin with just me and my instrument and my creativity, you know what I mean? That's a door that I've chosen to close. I'm not saying in any way that I want to go do that, but part of me still feels like, what would my music be?

The desire isn't gone, it’s just... you make choices.

I think that as a woman, particularly, I don't want to get too much into gender stereotypes here, but I think that traditionally, it’s been much easier for men to have no change in that trajectory. The kids get incorporated into that trajectory for them to a certain extent, but they just carry on as normal and ultimately that means spending less time with the kids.

I think many women choose that too, but for me, that wasn't an option. The kids superseded. And it is a grief—I think you're absolutely right to use that word because there is for sure a loss of having that single-minded focus we all had in our twenties and early thirties.

It's like a cocoon, but an amazing, vibrant, alive, all-encompassing world when you're doing just that. And your art is your everything. But I wouldn't trade being a mum and having all the richness and joy that it brings for the world. I know you wouldn't either.

Exactly. I hear that in you. I know that you have participated in every choice at every step of the way and that you are exactly where you're meant to be and want to be. But when you brought up gender just now – because that was definitely something that came up for me when I would be in a room full of generally male musicians back then, and I would see the difference in choices. So, as a new mother, I would go, "Hang on, they've had kids all this time? But they were in the room with me for this whole tour, but now I'm not doing the next tour because I had kids and don't know what just happened?"

I wonder, did you ever come up against a fear along the way when you had to make different stages of choices? Were you feeling a resistance to falling into a stereotype that was laid out in front of you as one option? As much as you may have wanted, for example, to have music take a back seat at various stages, especially for your kids when you really needed to at certain times, would you also have that fear of, oh God, I'm falling—I'm falling into that thing that I said I wouldn't do when I was younger. Was that something that you had to battle against, too?

I had this sinking, very dark period where I just was like, "Oh, my god. If my 22-year-old self met [me] right now, she would be horrified." I just felt like this washed-out, dowdy old housewife. And it just—

Well, no one in a million miles would call you dowdy, but...

[Laughs] And I certainly don’t want to denigrate that particular choice because that's also a valid, powerful choice for many women. But for me, I just felt like I had such aspirations and such a vision of what my life, and my trajectory, and my output was supposed to be. And when that wasn't happening, I was really hard on myself. I was also scared for a lot of that time because of what was going on with my son. It was a big mystery for us, and the doctors, what exactly was happening. We still don't know. That's still a question mark, what our son’s diagnosis is. I think there was a huge amount of uncertainty for me.

When we found out my son had something wrong, it was like the rug was ripped out from under me—which by the way, is what happens to every single parent when they first have a child. The rug is ripped out because you are in the complete abyss of the unknown. Everyone tells you, "Oh, it changes your life. You're never going to be the same." And you hear those words, but you don't experience what that actually means until that beautiful little thing comes out of you. And you're like, "Oh, my god, I'm in charge of this? I'm in charge? Wait a second." [laughs].

So, yeah. Pretty intense.

That's a universal experience but I feel like you're referencing some particular experiences of yours with your kids. I don't know how much you're comfortable going into it, but I want to ask you about your son?

I think watching from the side this whole time, it's been terrifying, it's been baffling, and it's been phenomenally inspiring. Because every step of the way, I've watched the way you have been so deeply present and have always gone five steps beyond what is asked for in that moment. I've watched you do it again and again. You get told something by one doctor or another doctor, and then you're in there, researching every single thing about all of it. And then you end up finding something that then they're all going, "Oh yeah, that's never happened before."

You're just so deeply in there as a human, and as a mum. And so firstly to just say, I absolutely love that in you. But yeah, as much as you want, say your experience and what helps you stay you and stay okay through all of that, because it's been a long haul and yet you're still able to show up for those occasional dinners and be badass and funny and ask me about me and ask all your friends about them.

Do you know what I mean? How do you keep that for yourself and all of that as well?

Well, the backstory is that our firstborn is a beautiful little boy. And early on he had some unusual, nothing obvious, just some unusual difficulties in his first year and a half. He was hospitalised a few times and there was a lot of just quirky stuff that was going on. I had an instinct that there was a bigger picture issue happening, but doctors were telling me he was fine. I feel like in the U.K., medicine is very different than in the United States. The culture of medicine there, from my experience, was to just say, “everything's fine, everything's fine. Don't worry. There's no problem here”. Whereas in America, it's all about over-inspection and over-testing and over-figuring everything out. So, a happy medium would have been nice. Essentially, at first, it was insinuated that I was suffering from some kind of postpartum depression and that I was being anxious.

Jesus, really?

Yeah. And that everything was fine. And then—

Oh, I didn't know that.

Yeah, and then he started having these little kinds of seizures when he was two. And we went to see a hardcore pediatric neurologist, and that was the first time when somebody said to us, "I'm not worried about those little seizure things, but are you aware that there is a genetic abnormality going on here?" And it was like a freight train had hit us.

Because even though I intuitively knew she was right— maternal instinct is so strong and that's why I had been searching trying to figure out what was happening—it was still the most painful news to receive. Just devastating. And then that opened up an odyssey of trying to figure out what exactly that meant. So, many geneticists and specialists and interventions later, we still don't know. We know that he has a genetic condition. It doesn't have a name; it may never have a name.

They believe it's very mild on the spectrum of whatever it is. But “it” has caused certain physiological issues, mostly in his cranial area. So, he's had many, many surgeries to correct issues that arise as a result. Things that are not life-threatening, thank god. But he was nearly blind when he was a baby. And now, thanks to these incredible surgeons, he sees 20/20 with glasses.

We have had the most unbelievable epic journey, and we have met so many incredible people along the way. These hero doctors and practitioners who have made such a massive difference in our son’s, and therefore, our lives. And that's been epic as a human, as a mum, as a being on this earth.

Coming across these people whose mission is to help other people have a better life. That’s very humbling. My son has been my greatest teacher by a million miles. He, as you know, approaches everything with a beam of brilliant, beautiful, sunshine. His positivity is infectious. He could so easily be a guy who's been weighed down by how much he's had to bear in his short 10 years of life, and he’s the exact opposite.

So, whenever I was struggling to get out of bed because of news of another surgery or another thing that we were going to have to tackle and help him tackle, all I would have to do is observe him and how he was just like, "It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine." He is wired as a glass is half-full person—a glass is totally-full person!

It's incredible.

So, that's the blessing that he has. Because he's able to get through all of this with as little trauma, I think, as possible, because he really believes that life is like that.

And what a perspective shift for you, I can imagine, because of course, all of this is happening to you and to each of your family members, but it's particularly happening to him. I suppose for you to have that perspective coming from him on a daily basis; what greater learning can there be?

Yeah.

Practically speaking though, how have you stayed sane? Well, maybe you haven't every day, but overall?

I think I have tried to always practice good self-care. I don’t always succeed in that, but I know its importance. I have a great therapist, and I do take myself away. I'll go to a retreat for a week, or even for just two days, every once in a while. I create space for myself. Every few months, I create some little bits of proper space for myself.

And I'm so blessed with my friends – particularly my women friends. And my family, my mum. Total lifeline. And there's a rallying around that has occurred. It brings me to tears. I feel so held as a person, as a family. Throughout our struggles, there's just been this community that has helped us through it all so massively, and it feels like I participate in that, and I receive from that, and that is so massive.

People often say to me, and it's interesting because sometimes I'm a bit surprised by it, like, "Oh, you guys just carry on like everything's normal." And I'm like, "Well, this is normal." But I think what's behind that is, we don't treat our son like he's “different”. He's his beautiful self, and he’s part of everything we do, he’s the life of the party!

Life throws us a lot of curveballs and in the early days we would say, "Oh, we'll get through this surgery, and then we'll have some smooth sailing." And I've realised that's not the way to look at it. This is likely a lifelong process and journey. I have shifted to trying to just be grateful when one surgery is done and done well, and not future trip about what might happen next.

You never do one thing and think that means that you're done with that other thing. You don't know what's around the corner. What a life lesson, wow!

And Covid has been an amazing thing for that, too. If ever there was something saying you’ve got to live in the moment. Because you can't plan for anything. We have no idea where this is going. We don't know what's happening. So, that really has been – every day is a new day, and we take it for what it is.

Well, in the middle of that, you've made some amazing music! So, that's fantastic, love. Coming back to the music, I loved the explanation of one of your songs. Maybe you could tell the story? About when someone said to you, when you felt like you couldn't write, they said, "Why don't you write about not being able to write." Tell us what happened?

It was very funny. I was in a state of self-pity about, "Oh, I'm so blocked and I'm so stuck and I don't know what to do about it." And she just very matter-of-factly said to me—and this is not a creative person, by the way. Her work isn't in the creative world—she said, "Well, I think that the best thing for you to do is to write a song about being stuck." I was totally outraged when she said that to me [laughs]. I was like, "How dare she? What a dumb suggestion, to write about being stuck. She has no understanding of what that even means to be stuck, creatively." And of course, to her, I just was a bit grumpy and was like, “Well, I don’t think you get it. If you're stuck, you're stuck. I don't think that writing a song about being stuck is going to help me be unstuck.” And she was like, "Okay, it was just a suggestion." And then I went home, and I sat down at our piano.

I'm a guitar girl, first and foremost. Piano is something that is a new set of ingredients for me. But I wrote a song about being stuck. Start to finish. It was the first time that had happened in probably years, that I just sat down and wrote a song; the melody, the words, all in one sitting. Previous to that it had just been bits and pieces of bits and pieces. So, I called her, and I was like, "Ok, I owe you an apology. You were right." That song is “Wake Up” on the album.

It comes back again to demystifying the muse, it sounds like. It's not coming, and I don't know why, I don't know when, and I don't know how. It's like, just sit!

Just try! Sit in a room, give it a go.

Yeah, I think that's what I find. When I have some external impetus to write, the writing comes because as soon as I'm sat down needing to write, I write. Whereas when I'm sat down thinking about writing, I don't write.

Exactly.

You show up for it and it shows up for you, right?

Yeah.

Let’s talk about “Starlight”. We wrote a song together for the first time!

Hooray! Yes. I love the song we wrote. We’ve been friends for a long time now, and have done a lot together as mums, as friends, and as politically aligned humans. But we had never formally sat down and made music together.

When you came to visit us in Venice, I love that we kind of seamlessly wrote the tune one morning, hanging out in the living room. We knew the story we wanted to tell, and it was fun and easy. I think it’s such a simple, beautiful, and evocative song. I’m really proud of what we made.

Do you have any favourite or most close songs in this collection?

Yeah, the song “Rocket”. That's quite an amazing story, that song. A dear friend of mine, one of the first people I met when I moved to New York City – his mentor was Stevie Ray Vaughan, and he was an incredible guitar player – his name was Johnny McNabb. He died tragically about seven years ago. He had written all this music, over decades. And he was like a brother to me. We played music together, we shared music, we had a very similar style and love of music. He played with so many of the greats, but he hadn't recorded hardly any of his own music. And his music was so beautiful. It was just so stunning, and his voice was so stunning. And maybe he just never had the confidence to put his own music down. I don’t know.

When he died, on top of all the other devastation of losing him, there was this one song that was my absolute favourite song of his, and I couldn't even remember the melody. I couldn't remember anything about it. It was like a weird blank. And I asked his mum, "Do you have any recordings? Maybe he'd done some voice recordings. Do you have access to his laptop?" She was like, "There’s nothing. We have nothing." So, a while after he died, I had a dream, and he came to me in my dream, and it re-created the exact way I met him – which was at a massive party at my NYC apartment. I saw my dad's guitar above this packed sea of heads, making its way towards me. And I'm like, "What's this idiot person carrying my dad's guitar through this crowd for….”. And suddenly this big smiling face, with a pronounced southern drawl, said, "Is this your guitar?" And I said, "Yes!" I couldn't stay mad at this lovely smiling face. And that was Johnny. And he said, "This is a rad guitar. I love these old guitars." It was an old Harmony sunburst.

So, in the dream, he came at me with the guitar over his head saying, "Is this your guitar?" And I was like, "Yes!" And then he started playing the song I loved so much, and I woke up, sat up like an arrow, in the middle of the night, scrambled around for my phone, and I sang into a voice memo - woke my husband up - singing the chorus melody, saying the one lyric line that I remembered him singing in the dream, and the verse melody. It was wild. Then I called his mum again and I said, "Listen, I don't know his words. I don't know that the verse melody is exactly right, but I know that the chorus is exactly the chorus. Are you ok that I finish writing what I have as a skeleton, and put this on my album?" And she just was like, "Oh, my god, yes, please do that."

So, that song has a particular meaning for me

It's amazing, Megan. What a beautiful experience.

Yeah. It is a really deep connection to him. A posthumous collaboration.