Do you think the stereotype that British people are less given to introspection is true? That it’s hard for them to talk about their feelings?

I don’t think English people are any less introspective, but there is a huge difference between the acceptable way to talk about things in England and the accepted way to talk about things in Los Angeles, or America in general. I missed cynicism when I lived in L.A., and when I lived in London, I missed the openness. English culture has a lot of masking—[masking] of masculinity, masking through alcohol, masking through tribalism—and of course that exists in America, too. But because England is my home, I feel concerned about it when I am there. Not in, like, a holier-than-thou kind of way—more that I wish people would talk about it a bit more.

When you first started writing songs, where did you get the courage and power from to lay yourself open like that?

I don’t know if it was a conscious thing, but the trivialization of women—of which there is much, and especially of young women—is such a tender subject, and the only way that I found to navigate it is to be really good.

Yeah!

And not give into the temptation to react to things. When I started, I was being compared to every other female singer-songwriter who sounded nothing like me. It is difficult for women because you get the additional thing at the top of your description—you’re a female something—and I don’t know why that means anything? I was speaking to my friend Marika [Hackman] who’s a singer, too. We’re not very make-up-wearing girly girls, so we either get described as like, “strong” or “hardy” or something, or we’re trivialized in another way, where we’re “meek” and, you know, “fey.” And I don’t recall any men being described, or normalized, that way.

It seems to me that you’ve always used your image in a very powerful way. Every time you release a record you come back with a different style. How intentional and constructed is that, and how do you derive power from the way you present yourself?

I’m very particular, and I haven’t quite figured out how to navigate this yet. I’m right in the middle of promo season, and every time it comes around, it’s equally harrowing, ’cos I do have to do some photoshoots, though I do as few as possible. I never have a stylist, I never have a makeup artist, I never have a hair person present. I try and converse with photographers before they take my photo, ’cos I don’t want to do the “girl looking over her shoulder caught in the act of something” look. Do you know what I mean?

Have you ever faced resistance for doing things your own way?

Yeah. I consider it a good thing that I encounter a lot of resistance. I could run down the ego rabbit-hole quite easily, but I have enough people whom I trust that would say no. It’s annoying for people, the photoshoot thing, and it can make me seem like a diva or whatever—which, I don’t care—but I have a very strict set of rules about who’s allowed to be there because I don’t like being looked at by lots of people. Sometimes [people] are annoyed about that, sometimes they aren’t.

In those kinds of situations what do you have to do to stay centered, and do you?

I tour with very good, grounded people, generally, who keep the humor up. I can lack a sense of humor sometimes, and a lot of the people I travel with are hilarious. So that helps. And then I’m constantly writing to my family and my friends at home, and telling them how ridiculous it is or whatever, and hearing what’s going on with them. That’s the best thing actually: touching base with reality as often as possible. I write a lot of postcards.

In the past, you often talked about being obsessed with death—where did that come from?

I had my first panic attack when I was 14 or 15, and I thought I was dying. And then I developed a compulsion—or several compulsions, actually—which I only really dealt with as I got into my twenties. I was obsessed with order and, like, I became a bit of a germophobe, I had all these little obsessive qualities, which I think in retrospect was just a teenage girl trying to take control of a fairly crazy, or what seemed like a very chaotic life, which I think is very normal. I channeled that into an obsession with and a fear of insignificance. As a teenager, and especially as a teenage girl who was just slightly different, I didn’t really find my tribe until I moved to London. I was having panic attacks throughout my last year of school, then I got [a record] deal and left school at 16. The next thing after that was a crippling fear of flying, which was really badly timed as I was doing a lot of flying then.

Did you get therapy for it?

No, I didn’t. Eventually it kind of…subsided, along with panic attacks. Everything kind of just went away within a kind of acceptance of relinquishing of control, ’cos that’s basically all that was—fear of flying is the idea that you can’t control the situation that you’re in.

There’s quite a bit of religious and philosophical questioning on the new record. Being a teenager who was kind of obsessed with death and insignificance, is that something that came into your life then?

I was quite interested in religion. My parents were both staunchly atheist, and that annoyed me, so I went to church on my own with my neighbor’s family until I was 12. And then my best friend at school was a Buddhist, so I went with her family to Buddhist meetings for a while. I found people who were devoted to things really intriguing because it somehow compromised my parents’ values, and I wanted to understand what that meant because I liked my parents a lot.

Everything I’ve read about your parents makes them seem pretty cool—like they introduced you to great music at a young age. Was that your teenage rebellion, exploring religion?

Yeah! I’m still doing it—it still really annoys them.

Being 25 and doing something specifically to annoy your parents: Is that the kind of great teenage experience you’re trying to reclaim?

Exactly! I saw a friend of mine the other day who’s a psychologist, who was telling me that now, in psychology, they consider the end of adolescence 28.

Oh, brilliant!

Isn’t that great?! Great news. ♦

Laura Snapes loves music by sad old men with beards and TV shows where nothing much happens. You can find her on Twitter at @laurasnapes.