#inspiration strikes and you end up spending 70 minutes putting something together because your writing is speaking to you at the moment.

[tarmac-rat]

"It’s the way life should be lived, she thinks. Unstuck, unburdened, the only thing holding you back is the amount of CHOOH you can cram into your gas tank. So go. Gun it. Don’t look back and don’t look forward. Keep your eyes set on that little bit of road in front of you and ride it like you know it’s never going to end."

Happy Fem V Friday, y'all 🙂

Full images under the cut

[seriouslyhooked]

The Same Soul (Part 1/?)

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

Our world AU where Emma and Killian knew each other as teenagers. Killian was sent to spend a summer with family in America. He met foster kid Emma while there. They fell in love but then he was forced back home and she couldn’t take the memories so she ran away, trying her best to move on from the dreams they’d always hoped for. A chance meeting brings them back together years later, and this time nothing and no one will keep them apart. Rated M. 

A/N: Hey all! So it’s been a pretty long time since I dropped a new multi-chapter story, and for good reason. I am still very much working on finishing ‘Lost Souls’ and I have about a million mixtape prompts to respond to sometime this summer and into the fall. But when inspiration strikes, you have to run with it, and while listening to a song I’ve loved a long time, ‘Same Soul’ by PVRIS, I thought of this AU. It’s set in our world where Emma is a bail bonds person living a lonely life in Boston. She and Killian met years ago, there were definite fireworks, but fate kept them apart. Now, years later, fate steps in again reuniting them. For the rest, you’ll have to read and see. Anyway thanks so much for taking the time and hope you all enjoy!

“Listen Lady, I told you before, you got the wrong guy! That shit that happened, whatever it is the cops are spinning, it wasn’t me. You hear me? Hey! I’m talking to you.”

Yeah, unfortunately for me.

Emma did her best to try and drown out the noise currently emanating from the back of her car. It was hard work seeing as how the perp she’d picked up for jumping bail this time was one of the biggest whiners she had ever had the displeasure of bringing in. But at the end of the day this was manageable. In just a few more minutes they’d get to the courthouse and she would pick up a big fat check for all the trouble of interacting with this asshole. He was a big fish in a big city, and according to court records the state had him on the line for not one, not two, but twenty-five stolen luxury vehicles. And how had he done that? Simple – by preying on unsuspecting marks who thought he was the valet, or an assistant, or just a garden variety good Samaritan. Emma surprised a snort at even the thought of the last one. This guy was so obviously rotten to the core that she could smell his shit from a mile away, and despite his repeated denials, August Booth had been a very busy guy this summer.

“Okay I get it, you’re doing this for the money. Hell I respect that. You’re a regular entrepreneur. So what would it take? 10 grand? 20? I can get you that. All you gotta do is let me go.”

Now Emma really had to laugh. This idiot really thought so little of her. Didn’t he realize she’d been tracking him for a full week, and that in order to do that she’d had to do a deep dive not just into his personal life and habits, but also every last trace of his financial capabilities? He had no way in hell of making good on this offer, and yet he continued to lie and beg like it would somehow sway her.

“Seriously, I know people, and I’m good for the money. No one even has to know that you helped me out. Just pull over, undo these cuffs and I’ll get you the dough.”

“The dough?” Emma asked, incredulous and yet somewhat amused by how dissociated this guy seemed to be. “Who even says that? This isn’t a mafia movie from the 70s. You conned a bunch of people, stole a bunch of shit, and then skipped bail. I don’t care about the money that I know you don’t have, or the guys you think you know who are supposedly going to help you out of this. You’re not just a skip – you’re a bad guy. I’m not about to just let you go.”

“Aw fuck,” the man said from the back, his whole persona deflating as the realization finally dawned on him that she couldn’t be bought off so easily. “You’re one of those do gooders. Damn it! Just my luck.”

Emma didn’t bother to correct him even though she was hardly a ‘do-gooder’ as he’d so scathingly labeled her. Instead she reminded herself that talking to this man was nothing but a waste of time. Honestly, talking to most men felt like a waste of time, and at the end of the day, every man tended to show their true colors one way or another, and none of them ever appealed to her when they did. They might hide themselves well in the beginning, but no matter what men always seemed to find a way to fail to meet even the most baseline of expectations.

Except for Killian. He never let me down. He always did his best by me.

The thought was automatic as it rang out through her mind, and Emma’s immediate instinct was to miss him, which was crazy. Killian was a man – nay a boy – that she’d known more than ten years ago. She was sixteen the summer she met him, and though the thought was honest (he had, in fact, always been so good to her), it was also irrelevant. That was a whole lifetime ago. Hell, it felt like dozens of lifetimes ago. So much had changed. She was no longer the same person, and she had to imagine he was no longer the same either. Still, she wondered if that was true. Here she was writing off men in their entirety, but one possible outlier still remained.

“Get it together, Emma. You’re better than this.”

She whispered the words aloud under her breath, a common tactic to shift her thoughts from yesteryear that she’d developed as time went by. She had to pivot her thinking, and talking to herself, however strange, always seemed to help her do that quickly. The only problem was she still had an audience, and she’d totally forgotten that, only remembering when her perp responded to her with a pointed question that made her jump.

“So you are considering my proposition?”

“Hell no,” Emma rebutted, her eyes automatically rolling at the level of stupid that kept coming from this guy’s mouth. “I’m dropping you off, collecting my check, and then promptly forgetting you even exist.”

“Then what are better than?” Booth asked, his face shifting from hopeful to something a bit more sinister. Emma could see him trying to calculate an angle, no doubt aimed at manipulating her into letting him go. People didn’t get so far in running cons like he did without having that ability to play off a person’s weaknesses. “Sounds like you have a lot on your conscience Emma. Something weighing heavily on you? An old regret perhaps?”

“That’s none of your business,” Emma said with as much calm as she could muster, thankful as she rounded the corner and sidled up to the courthouse. She parked her car and opened the back door, not surprised that her guilty guest was less than interested in complying. He remained seated, and Emma tried to anticipate if he was going to play the dead weight card or try to make a run for it. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. But fair warning, the hard way is also the painful way.”

“Yeah right – like you’re going to hurt me somehow.”

“I took you down didn’t I?” Emma asked, her hand moving to her hip as she raised a brow at him. How fickle some people’s memories were. Clearly he’d forgotten the finer details of her apprehending him, including the part where he started running across the pizza joint she’d found him at and she stopped him by pushing a chair in his way, causing him to trip and fall with a crash to the ground.

“You got lucky. Bet you can’t do that twice.”

“Yeah, maybe. But see the thing is I don’t need luck, because I have this.” She pulled out her trusty tazer from the pocket of her red leather jacket and just because this guy was pissing her off, she fired it up, letting the buzz of the electricity start to circulate as a spark jumped visibly before them. “So let me ask this again. Are you going to get smart, or am I about to have a lot more fun than I bargained for?”

“All right, all right! Jeez, you really are crazy,” he exclaimed, getting up from the car and allowing her to maneuver him into the side door where on the lam defendants were deposited.

“That’s what they all say,” Emma sighed dramatically. “You could at least go for something more original.”

There was no reason to bother with goodbyes once Emma was inside. She’d meant what she said before; she absolutely planned to get her money and immediately forget about this low life. With minimal fuss she handed Booth over to the officers at the scene and then moved to the administrative desk to collect her skip amount and put yet another successful catch down on her record.

“Damn, Emma! Are you serious right now? The earliest person on the office pool said Booth would be at least a month long hunt. The BPD has been yammering on about his connections and underground network, but you make this look so easy.”

The words of praise came from Ruby, a sassy and sarcastic worker here who Emma always seemed to get along with. She wouldn’t call them friends per se, but they understood each other, and Emma was always willing to engage with her a little more than the others who worked here at the courthouse. Ruby had a good sense of humor, and she too seemed to genuinely understand the less than stellar nature of the average man too, which came up a lot when Emma dropped off her fugitives.

“What can I say? I was born for this.”

“Born to be a bail bonds person?” Ruby asked with a laugh. “Hardly. I still think you should be using those skills elsewhere. You’d make a great cop, or sheriff, maybe FBI. Or ooh – CIA! I can totally see you as a spy. You’d lure them all in with a little black dress and then you’d take down them down, and a whole country with it.”

“Eh, sounds like a lot of work,” Emma said with a shake of her head. “Besides, we both know no one else in this city is as good at this as me. What would the greater Boston area even do without me?”

“Good point,” Ruby acknowledged. “You’re practically the savior. Or the garbage collector. God I can’t believe some of these people. Like Booth – no morals. He stole a car from an elderly couple at a hospital. A hospital! It’s disgusting,” Ruby said with a shiver, and Emma absolutely agreed. It was heinous, but unfortunately not the worst crimes she’d ever heard of around these parts. “Anyway let’s get your forms all filled out. I know how the savior really operates – you’re probably jonesing to be alone.”

Emma offered a friendly smile, but even the off-handed turn of phrase sparked something in her. Jones. That was Killian’s last name and now that was twice that she’d thought about someone who should have long ago been forgotten. What was with her today? It wasn’t totally unheard of for her to think of him, but still. This was a lot – and yet she couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t enough.

“If you want my advice though, you should really stick around. There’s a new ADA here today, I guess he’s heading that children’s advocacy unit that the Governor installed last month, and he is hot – hot – HOT,” Ruby proclaimed without a care in the world as she fanned himself.

“I didn’t think you went for hot shot lawyers,” Emma teased, knowing that based on the guys who came in here claiming to want her attention after a night or two of her time, a lawyer would not be Ruby’s usual cup of tea. “Not enough tattoos to pass the Ruby Lucas standard.”

“I know, I know. Sadly I’m more likely to find a match on the wrong side of the bars in here. It’s really terrible. I wish they made something to cure that.”

“Extensive therapy?” Emma offered and Ruby shook her head.

“Nah I’m thinking tequila. Speaking of, some of the girls from my apartment building are going out this weekend. You should come with us.”

Emma was stunned at the offer. This was an escalation in terms of attempts at friendship made by Ruby and Emma didn’t know how she felt about that. She knew she liked Ruby and that she was a good person with a good sense of humor, but she didn’t really do the whole ‘friends’ thing. Emma was a loner and that was sort of all she knew.

“Let me stop you before you tell me something like ‘I don’t want to intrude’ or ‘I might be busy.’ You are coming out with us, and you’re going to have fun. It’s a great bar near Fenway – hidden enough so we don’t have to deal with tourists, but a good vibe all around. We’ll drink, we’ll eat, we’ll talk shit about celebrities or whatever and you will love it, even if you hate it at first.”

“You sound awfully convinced that this is happening.”

“I am. I know you’re guarded, Emma, but I’m not looking to break down any walls or anything. This is just fun, and when’s the last time you really had fun?”

It had been forever since Emma could recall a time when she was more than just content or surviving. Fun was a foreign concept to her, and in her life as a foster kid and then an independent adult, she had very few glimpses in her past that a normal person would consider enjoyable. It was for this reason that she was hesitant to commit to anything, but her gut, the intuition that she always trusted, was talkative in this moment, and it told her to give this a try even if it scared her just a little bit.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Emma said, prompting an excited squeal from Ruby. Before her new friend could get any ideas Emma put her hand up in physical warning. “But I will not be talking about my feelings and I am not getting blindly set up, so if this an attempt at doing that you better squash that idea now. We clear?”

“Crystal,” Ruby said with glee. She gave Emma the details of where they were going, and looked like she was about to talk more about the impending outing when something caught her gaze across the way. “Oh shit, incoming! Hot lawyer guy at two o’clock.”

An announcement like that would usually never mean much to Emma. She didn’t get worked up over the prospect of a hot guy, but before she turned she felt her stomach flutter slightly, a very unfamiliar feeling for as of late. It was strange and unexpected, but nothing could compare to the feelings that slammed into her all at once and she saw who was standing there, talking to one of the bailiffs outside of the courtroom.

“Killian?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and Emma didn’t even mean to say his name aloud at all, but she knew she must have when Ruby replied.

“Oh my god, do you know him?! You really do work fast, honey. He like just got here. This is his first day in the courtroom, and from what I hear he’s already killing it.”

Emma had no ability to respond to that information even though she craved more on a cellular level. She was consumed with so many thoughts and wants and emotions. Could this really be Killian? He was so different, so altered. The boy she knew was just that – a boy – but this man… Holy crap he was hot! Ruby had not been exaggerating, but it was more than just attraction. Emma could see in his mannerisms and from the easy smile that he had with a man who must be a relative stranger that he was still good and kind. It made her knees tremble to behold him in all the glory of this suit and with the swagger and confidence of a damn good attorney. Then he turned to her and she was totally lost, and after only the briefest moment of worry that he wouldn’t remember her, he eased her every fear on the subject.

“Emma?” he said, excusing himself immediately from the bailiff’s company as he walked towards her.

Oh shit! Oh shit! He’s coming this way. What do I do? What do I say? Ahh!

“Uh, hi,” was all she could come up with and she almost groaned at how basic that was. If someone could die of mortification, Emma was currently coming close to such a deadly level. She hadn’t felt this way since she was a girl, and she couldn’t tell if she loathed it or kind of loved it.

“I can’t believe it’s you. What are you doing here? How did you – I mean where did you…?”

Killian’s questions trailed off as his gaze took her in. He hid nothing from her, and the deep cerulean eyes she’d always loved and dreamed of for years traced her features with undeniable longing. She could get lost in the intensity of his expression, and again she was struck by how impossibly handsome he was, but this moment was made all the more breathtaking when she noticed how glad he was to see her again. He was more than happy, and he even seemed relieved, as if somehow, all this time, he’d been looking for her. The thought made her heart pound in her chest because she herself had considered looking for him for ages. It was one of the great ironies of her life: she found people for a living, but for years she’d kept herself from finding him again, scared that the response wouldn’t be enough. She’d always been tempted, but she’d never gathered the courage to take the leap and try.

“God, I can’t believe it’s really you,” he murmured, his voice clear but also filled with emotion. His touch of an accent washed over her, sending a buzzy sensation coursing through her and lighting her up inside. She wanted to smile, but she was still too stunned to even speak.

“This is the part where you reciprocate the feeling, Ems,” Ruby said, pulling Emma back from her wandering thoughts and the feeling of shock that seeing Killian stirred in her. Emma was still speechless, and she looked at Ruby in a silent cry for help that the brunette immediately answered. “Not sure how long it’s been since you too have seen each other, but Emma is a bailbonds person. She’s actually the best damn asset in the city. She’s got the most catches three years running.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Killian said with a smile and Emma’s heart skipped even as she gave him a quizzical look. “You were always brilliant, and tracking people down is no easy feat. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You have?” Emma asked, finally finding her voice.

“Aye,” he said, moving forward so the air around them practically crackled with anticipation. Emma felt a rush of energy; her whole body felt fit to burst with an instinctive want to move closer even while her rational brain said she should bolt. This was too much; it was too impossible. She shouldn’t be feeling this. She shouldn’t start hoping for things, because hoping for things was the surest way to end up disappointed. “Emma, I-,”

Whatever Killian was going to say got interrupted by a boisterous gaggle of defense attorneys stampeding in the door. They had no respect for the ‘Quiet please’ signs in the area and completely broke the moment. Ruby, for her part, was extra irritated since the nuisance pulled her from openly gawking at Emma and Killian. She had to go and shush the offenders, but the sudden change of pace was all the interruption Emma needed to start feeling like her only choice was to flee. This was too much for her to handle and she was seconds from making a run for it, but then she felt Killian’s hand touch hers and the world stopped. The noise faded away and a hundred beautiful, perfect memories came rushing back to her as he held her hand in his.

“Please, Emma.” His tone begged for her to look at him and when she did she could see the earnest desire written all over his face. “I know it’s been a long time – God it feels like lifetimes ago – but I can’t leave you again thinking it’ll be the last time I see you. I don’t have it in me.”

“I know,” Emma confessed, her voice starting to break. “But it’s crazy. Everything’s different. We’re different. We have different lives. You could be married. You could be -,”

“I am not now nor have I ever been married,” he stated firmly, as if he was offended that she’d even suspect a catch like him could have tied the knot.

“Girlfriend?” Emma asked, hating that her curiosity was getting the better of her.

“No. There’s been no one truly special in my life. Not for a very long time.”

Emma knew instinctively that he was talking about her, and it was the only way she found the bravery to reply with complete honesty. “Me too.”

“Thank God for that,” he exclaimed, his breath coming out in a relieved wave as his thumb ran across her skin, sending sublime sensation through her whole being. “Go out with me tonight.”

“Tonight?” Emma asked, surprised at how immediate that request was.

“Aye. I don’t think I could bear the wait, and I’ve no shame in admitting that. I’d ask you out for this very moment, but I have another case being called in thirty minutes that I can’t postpone.”

Emma smiled despite the flurry of emotions she was grappling with. God, she’d always loved that about him. He was so unabashedly open with her, and that tendency had given her the space to be exactly who she was when they’d been together all those years ago. She never felt alone with him, and through some kind of magic, he always made her believe that it was okay to be vulnerable and to admit what she really wanted most of all.

“All right, tonight. But where are we going?”

“Leave that to me, love,” he replied and the term of endearment made her light up instantly. She’d missed that so much. She’d missed him so much, more than words could ever say. “Do you trust me?”

“I want to,” Emma replied quietly and though she thought he might be disappointed by her inability to promise absolutely faith in him right now, he only grinned in that boyish, charming way he’d been prone to way back when.

“We’ll get there. Starting with this date – we’ll find our way, together.”

“So it is a date?” Emma confirmed, excitement bubbling over at the firmness in his tone as she typed in her number to the phone Killian had quickly handed her.

“Aye, love. It’s a date.”

With that, and with a all too fleeting final farewell where Killian took her hand once more and raised it to his lips in a gentle kiss, her long lost what-if took his leave of her again. And though she still didn’t love the feeling of him walking away, Emma was comforted with the fact that she’d see him again in just a few more hours, and that hopefully this time she’d never really have to let him go again.

Post-Note: So despite the fact that I have so much other stuff on my plate writing-wise, I got struck with this story idea and I couldn’t put it down. It was originally going to be a mixtape and end right here (I know, it’s barely even begun!) but I have decided to make it into a short multi-chapter story. It’s pretty surface level stuff, a brief burst of fluff, and probably only about three parts, but it will be filled with cuteness, rest assured. Anyway thank you so much for reading, and I can’t wait to hear what all of you think!

[underachievers-please-try-harder]

Interview // Eleanor Friedberger

I interviewed Eleanor Friedberger for 7digital.

Your last album was partially inspired by your move from Brooklyn to upstate New York, and Rebound was also influenced by a change of environment, right?

Yeah. I mean, before trying to sit down to write anything I think it’s really valuable to immerse yourself in a new state of mind. Having a different country or city certainly helps. So I spent about two months in Athens last year.

Did you head there specifically for inspiration?

No, I went because after the presidential election in the US I really wanted to get out of the country for a bit. (Laughs) I mean, I wanted to go somewhere else to start writing and I had always wanted to spend more time in Athens. My mother’s Greek-American and I’ve spent a lot of time in Greece, but mostly on beach holiday-type visits, and when I’d arrive into Athens it would usually only be for a night or two. I hate using such a generic word, but there’s a very special atmosphere and energy there. I wanted to take some Greek lessons, which I did, and I thought that I would also write songs for the album. It turns out I didn’t do much writing but I did a lot of research, and I also met a bunch of musicians and formed a band while I was there, and played a few shows, which was very valuable.

It’s interesting you say you left after the presidential election. Were you surprised by the result?

Yeah, I was definitely in that camp of total shock and horror. I had been travelling so much that year and I was away the night of the election – I was in Tel Aviv in Israel, of all places, doing a gig, and then in Rome the day after that. It was such a strange feeling to be so far away from home and yet still be so upset. I felt incredibly alienated, and I wanted to try to capture that feeling somehow on an album.

You’ve described your trip to Greece as a reconnaissance mission. How so? What did you take away?

Well I have a few specific anecdotes, like going to this nightclub that was called Rebound. For me it encapsulated all the problems, and then also the glamour and ruined fabulousness, that is Athens to me. The neon sign, with the lightbulb that’s been out for God knows how many years. There’s a no smoking sign but when you go downstairs everyone is smoking. There’s music that you think is familiar that could be The Cure or Joy Division, but then you listen more closely and you can’t understand any of it...

I also met a lot of Greek musicians, and it was a nice treat to remember that you can just form a band with anybody. But I also felt a particular sense of pride getting to play with other Greek people, because I’m half-Greek. It was funny to suddenly to be in a band and to look around onstage and see people that could be my brothers and my cousins. (Laughs) It made me feel a sense of belonging in a very foreign place. And Greece for me has this perfect balance of foreign and familiar.

In terms of taking something away... I grew up in Chicago and I went to university in Austin, Texas, so for me that was almost as far away as I could go in a sense. It was like moving to another country. And then I moved to London when I was 22 and again that was a huge change. I try to do that sometimes. It’s just the feeling that you get from going somewhere with just two suitcases and feeling like you’re a foreigner in a strange land, and then how quickly you assimilate to that place and how quickly you can make that place your home... That process is really exciting to me and I would do that every couple of years if I could.

You left the US because of political turmoil, but the political climate in Greece is hardly idyllic.

(Laughs) No, in fact it’s far more complicated and worse in a lot of ways. But because this is such an ongoing crisis, economically speaking, things had actually settled down a bit when I went there. But still, I went to a place where there are protests and marches certainly every week, if not sometimes more. I think a lot of people find [protests] just part of the daily fabric of life there in a way, which is kind-of comforting in a weird way. But you’d see instances, like a garbage collectors strike happening during a heatwave, like, literally just piles and piles of garbage on a 100 degree day, for days and days. Those are stark reminders, like, “Something’s not quite right here.”

Speaking of protests, did you attend any of the women’s marches?

I did. During the first women’s march, I met up with another American woman who I’d just met in Athens and there was a very small gathering outside the US Embassy in Athens, but I’m glad that I did that. It was really funny because we didn’t really know what we were doing, and moments later there was this very well organised march of Greek people just protesting the election of Trump in general. (Laughs) So it completely superseded us. But then this past year when it was the one year anniversary of the initial women’s march, I was in Los Angeles and I was glad that I got to attend that.

So what was your starting point for Rebound?

For me it was an instrument I bought. I kinda got it as a joke: I just walked into a music store and there was this late 70s Casio keyboard that was really beautiful and I just turned it on and messed around with it for five minutes, and thought, “Oh, I’m going to buy this. Even if I write one song with this it will be worth the price.” And I took it home and it became my new best friend, and I ended up writing loads of songs on it. It had a built-in drum machine with different drumbeats, and you could also use the automated basslines, so I ended up making up all these songs, writing melodies on the keyboard with my right hand and then making up lyrics after the fact. And I would just build these parts of songs and put them together.

Did you have any musical reference points?

Mostly as a reaction to my last album, I wanted to make something where it sounded like I was taking my time a bit more. I wanted to make something that sounded kind-of cinematic and meditative, and more like a soundtrack to an unmade movie or something. And have it be more artificial-sounding, in contrast to my last album which was really warm and organic, and about five people playing in a room together.

I mean, originally I thought I wanted to make something that sounded really harsh and angry and aggressive with loud guitar feedback and me trying to scream. But maybe I’m not capable of that kind of music? It’s interesting as to what you set out to do and what comes out. It’s like, I always think about copying certain things and then in the process of copying something you come out with something totally new and hopefully unique.

Recording this album was a more solitary process than previous records. Was that challenging?

Well the challenges are that it’s only up to you, and you can only do as much as you’re capable of doing, but the rewards are, “Oh my god, listen to this f**king guitar solo I just played! I didn’t even know I could play guitar.” Playing guitar leads was the most exciting thing to me, and that’s the kind of thing that I would never have given myself. I have no problem paying someone to play on my record, saying, “Can you do something like this?” I enjoy that process of producing and directing someone else, but I would be embarrassed to get someone to record me trying to play the same thing on the guitar 50 times, which is maybe what I had to do on some of these songs.

Do you have someone you use as a sounding board?

Not really. By the time I show songs to someone I’m pretty confident about them being right, though obviously things will change. But actually when I was long-finished with the demos I played them for my friend Bradford Cox, who’s in a band called Deerhunter. He did say, “This is s**t,” about one song in particular, like, “Nobody needs to hear this.” Which I took to heart. (Laughs) I mean, he was also playing me some demos and I would say, “I don’t like this, I like that.” To be fair, the first thing I played him he was like, “This is perfect. You don’t need to change a thing.”

You said you wrote music first and lyrics second – is that different to how you’ve worked previously?

Yes, for me that was a big difference. Normally I start with all these scripts almost, and then set them to music and this was the opposite. But I went through a similar process when it came to actually writing the words, which was just several months being conscious of writing things down that interest me, whether that’s something somebody said or something I see on the street, or a text message, or something in an email. With the title ‘Nice To Be Nowhere’, someone said that to me about four or five years ago, and I was like, that’s gonna make a good piece of something some day.

On ‘Make Me A Song’ you draw on an encounter you had with a born again Christian, right?

I think that song is about a lot of things, but mostly about having expectations and then having them be completely turned on their head. I think it’s always really interesting when you think somebody is one thing and it turns out they’re something completely different. And in that case, I was in a foreign place and I met someone new and I’m having a nice time and then suddenly they’re telling me, “I love Jesus. Jesus is my best friend. I write songs for Jesus.” And then they try to convince me to do the same thing. And I don’t mean to say it as a judgemental thing. I was trying to keep an open spirit to that, but of course I did think, “This guy’s a f**king freak.” But in hindsight he helped me write a song. (Laughs)

Four albums into your solo career, do you think you’ve learned anything new about your outlook or your capabilities?

I would say it’s always little by little, you know. I definitely feel more confident in knowing what I’m doing, but at the same time because this album was done so much by myself – and then I went to Clemens Knieper’s studio in the end – I’d never second-guessed an album as much as I did this one. I feel like the more you know, the more critical you are so there’s that double-edged sword of being more competent but also being less secure in a way. Sometimes I think it’s a sweeter spot to be naive.