I write songs for myself, but I never keep them. I’m like, ‘O.K., that was my therapy – it’s out of my body now. I’m going to give it to somebody else so it can be their therapy, too.’
An artist could have a really big relationship, and then they break up, and any song after that, people are automatically going to assume that that song is about that person.
I had all these singles come out within a two-month period, and then nothing for almost two years. You start to feel a little irrelevant. You realize how many people there are trying to be songwriters and how competitive it is and how political things can be.
When you start to have success, people look at you differently and expect more from you. With that comes a lot of pressure to perform, so it can be a little overwhelming.
For the first three years, when I was writing, I was doing sessions with a whole bunch of different people all the time every day until I met Lindy Robbins, who kind of mentored me. And then, once you find that, all the pieces come together.
People are always going to have something to say about you or your body. They will always try to attack you when you’re feeling the most happy or the most yourself you’ve ever been.
I do love all types of music. I could be in a session for eight hours, and when I leave, I’ll instinctively go to the radio or put on my favourite songs.
