Name: Hattie Whitehead
Nationality: British
Occupation: Singer, songwriter
Current Release: Hattie Whitehead's Mechanism EP is out November 17th 2023.
Recommendations: My friend Sara Kelly’s weaving work is absolutely stunning. She worked on a tapestry recently for the artwork of Matthew Halsall’s new album which is totally beautiful. All of her work just makes me feel so much warmth and calm so I’d recommend just looking at it all!
Rupert Cox - "The Nowhere Dance." Another talented friend! I love this track - I recommend listening on a brisk walk!

[Read our Matthew Halsall interview]

If you enjoyed this Hattie Whitehead interview and would like to stay up to date on her music, visit her official homepage. She is also on Instagram, Facebook, Soundcloud, and twitter.



Where does the impulse to create something come from for you? What role do often-quoted sources of inspiration like dreams, other forms of art, personal relationships, politics etc play?

I’m usually driven to write in response to experiences that make me feel a deep emotional connection. It’s usually related to my relationships with other people and the world around me.

The impulse is quite subconscious - I find that the less planned moments of writing are the more successful the outcome tends to be. Where there is a burst of emotion, there usually is a song waiting to emerge! I was so angry at a random man for shouting at me in the street once that I just had to go home and write about him. The song just sort of burst out of me like lava!

I do also get really inspired by other art forms - I went to watch an incredible show last week at Sadlers Wells called Mám and it made me want to, firstly, cry … and secondly, go and make music.



For you to get started, do there need to be concrete ideas – or what some have called a 'visualisation' of the finished work? What does the balance between planning and chance look like for you?

It doesn’t tend to be as planned out as having an initial vision for a record. My songs are usually a reflection of significant life experiences. The Mechanism EP is made up of songs written when my mum was diagnosed with Cancer and also after she had died, so the themes are to do with loss but this was just where I was at whilst writing the songs rather than a conscious decision to create a grief EP.

I would say my process with writing tends to be fairly weighted towards chance … the planning is usually in allocating some time to sit down with my guitar and taking myself to therapy to try and create some coherence in what I’m feeling!

With recording, I try to keep sessions open ended and ask musicians to bring ideas of their own. I’m very lucky that my band are good friends and have a really great understanding of me and my music as well as a musical sensitivity in their playing. I might come with an idea of specific parts I’d like to hear, but I try not to be too wedded to anything and like experimenting with different sounds before landing on what feels right.

In a nutshell, my songwriting stage is very chance heavy, and our recording phase is probably about 70-30 in favour of chance too. Could have just said that really couldn’t I!

Is there a preparation phase for your process? Do you require your tools to be laid out in a particular way, for example, do you need to do 'research' or create 'early versions'?

In the past a lot of the preparation for recording has been in playing live shows. The songs tend to take on a new form once they have been aired in front of an audience and this is when I might change the structure or play around with the melody a bit, but mostly get to know the song and start to picture how other instruments might be added in the recording stage.

For most of the tracks on Mechanism, this was the case. We didn’t really begin with any demos. Tim (Bidwell - producer) had heard the songs played live and had some ideas about what sounds would feature on what tracks, but some moments were more spontaneous.

Like the E Bow guitar solo in “Read My Mind” - the E Bow was within reach while we were trying out ideas, and it was just a serendipitous moment where the section suddenly all slotted together.



When I started working with John Reynolds (producer) in the pandemic, I had lots of new songs that hadn’t had a chance to be played live yet, so we took a different approach and I recorded acoustic versions from home for him to listen to. Our recording process was then to start with vocals and accompanying instrument and build the track from there, sticking with parts that would elevate the vocals and song.

Do you have certain rituals to get you into the right mindset for creating? What role do certain foods or stimulants like coffee, lighting, scents, exercise or reading poetry play?

Running often plays a huge role in my writing process. If I have an idea that I am struggling to formulate, I will record voice notes that I take out running with me, and the momentum often brings inspiration. I think the endorphins help, and the fact that I am physically moving seems to often help move any creative ideas along too.

I get inspired lyrically by nature and weather too. My phone is a complete mess of recordings of a very out of breath me singing melodies and bass lines - it’s incredible how much sense they make in the moment … and how mad they sound later on.

I also find meditation quite helpful to my writing process. I got quite into it in the pandemic, and would do a 20 minute meditation, followed by free writing and playing guitar or piano, which often prompted the beginnings of a song.



“No Man’s Land” came out of one of these moments and it’s one of the fond memories I have with all that time spent at home with space for creativity.

What do you start with? How difficult is that first line of text, the first note?

I usually start with something on guitar and the rest of the ideas follow.

With “I Have Often” from the Mechanism EP, Tim Bidwell set me the challenge of writing a song using piano. I went home and played around a bit, and a couple of days later the song had emerged. I liked that I was taking different harmonic directions on the piano than I would have done on guitar. I think it helps to change things up and use instruments you know your way round a bit less.

You can use your ear a bit more and it allows musical intuition to take over from going to the places you know make sense on paper.

When do the lyrics enter the picture? Where do they come from? Do lyrics need to grow together with the music or can they emerge from a place of their own?

They’re often there building from the start of the process actually.

Quite often I’ll have place holder lyrics that morph into the final lyrics. But more of the time, a melody will emerge with the lyrics already there.

What makes lyrics good in your opinion? What are your own ambitions and challenges in this regard?

I love lyrics that describe experiences and emotions in an unobvious or new way, or use the everyday or mundane to create a really strong feeling. I love it when a song can be expressive enough to be hugely emotional, but vague enough for each listener to create their own meaning from it.

The song that springs to mind is “Anything” by Adrienne Lenker.



The lyric “I don’t wanna talk about anyone, I don’t wanna talk about anyone, I wanna sleep in your car while you’re driving, lay on your lap when I’m crying” is so romantic to me - there is so much in those very normal actions, so much underlying meaning about what that relationship is.

I suppose my ambition would be that my lyrics connect with other people  and stoke up their emotions too. I love to think that I can write something from my own perspective and send it out to have a totally different meaning to someone else.

To quote a question by the great Bruce Duffie: When you come up with a musical idea, have you created the idea or have you discovered the idea?

When things are going really well with writing and ideas are popping out, it often does feel like there is a separate entity delivering the goods but that probably underplays the efforts of the person writing the music! I think that the best writing is where there is no set intention other than expressing something uniquely and this probably comes from a more subconscious place.

So in that sense, I suppose you probably discover something from the depths of your subconscious - but I don’t think that means you haven’t created it. Your subconscious is still informed by all your human experiences up to that moment so the music has still come from you.
 
Many writers have claimed that as soon as they enter into the process, certain aspects of the narrative are out of their hands. Do you like to keep strict control or is there a sense of following things where they lead you?

I think you need a certain level of flexibility in order for ideas to grow and to collaborate with others, so I try and stay fairly open minded in both the writing and recording process.

Having said this, I have also been on quite a journey over the years with understanding what my sound is production wise and articulating it to others. In the past I found it quite hard to be assertive in a studio environment, particularly as a woman working in environments where there was a significant gender imbalance.

I have had to work quite hard at tackling some of my predispositions to default to someone else’s better judgement and so as much as I like to keep an open mind, I also think it’s really important to know what what works and what doesn’t work in terms of getting across my musical personality.

There are many descriptions of the creative state. How would you describe it for you personally? Is there an element of spirituality to what you do?

It often feels a bit like a therapy session writing a song. There is definitely an element of spirituality. I find that I am most productive musically when there are strong feelings to express, but being able to get them out from my body into a song requires a calm and peaceful space to begin with.

I often know that I’m heading in the right direction when tears are involved in the lyric writing process!

Once a piece is finished, how important is it for you to let it lie and evaluate it later on? How much improvement and refinement do you personally allow until you're satisfied with a piece? What does this process look like in practise?

I find that I usually finish a project and feel like I never want to listen to the songs ever again! Thankfully the feeling usually passes but I think it’s important for me to have a break from the music and come back to it with fresh ears to get a good idea of how it actually sounds.

I usually come back to the songs after a few days and listen whilst running or walking. The endorphins help with this too!

After finishing a piece or album and releasing something into the world, there can be a sense of emptiness. Can you relate to this – and how do you return to the state of creativity after experiencing it?

I find it quite hard releasing music. After investing so much into the writing and recording process, I do often feel a bit lost afterwards (as well as huge relief that it is finally seeing the light of day). The antidote to that for me is sharing the music with listeners in the flesh!

I have always loved playing live and the real-time connection with an audience. There’s a start and finish, and the emotion is shared between everyone. It’s so magic!

Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you personally feel as though writing a piece of music is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

I think if I had the same input into mundane tasks as I do with writing a piece of music, I wouldn’t get much further than brushing my teeth! The idea that I’d be pouring my heart and soul into something like putting on a pair of pants in the morning is pretty hilarious - I’d be a drama queen constantly on the edge of a nervous breakdown!

On a serious note though, I do think there can be lots of creative moments in a day - I just don’t feel like I’d be putting quite the same levels of emotional investment into them.