From embracing fragility and finding power in solitude, Clara Mann is embarking on a new chapter with her debut album, ‘Rift.’

Stream: ‘Rift’ – Clara Mann

Invoking transitions, the French countryside, and a succinct sense of self, Clara Mann’s debut album Rift arrives as a resilient collection of fragments of being.

The highly anticipated debut, released March 7th via state51, unfolds as a meticulously crafted emotional landscape, woven together by threads of feeling to evoke senses of escapism and home.

Mann’s debut sits in the spaces of the in between, transforming quiet into strength and sparsity into resonance. While Mann croons atop the subtle sonic cores of the record, Rift exhibits the very best of Mann’s storytelling, her agency and her creative vision. Melancholic at the outset, the collection of songs come together to form a hopeful plane of being – where the sun reappears, and rawness emerges as power and not sadness.

Rift, used in the context to mean conflict, or the shift in tectonic plates – also means the breaking apart and reconstitution of the self. Mann wrote her debut album from these very spaces. Here, isolation becomes a creative trove, and solitude becomes a space of artistic agency. The project poignantly weaves between artist comparisons and confines of genre, standing firmly on its own – through her voice, her narrative, she lets us see the side of her that is, as she says, “just Clara.”

Mann is an artist through and through. Trained classically on piano, her creative spirit extends beyond the realm of music. During our interview, she shows me her little creative corner, where her sketches don the walls and a piano sits in the middle. We spoke further on this, and she drew parallels between songwriting and her first love of drawing, where each song can be carefully written and sketched to an essential truth.

To me, Clara Mann’s album stands out in its storytelling.

With lyricism to die for, cry to, and ruminate on, sparse production serves to elevate Mann’s distinctive songwriting. Each song is a sketch revisited over and over until it’s peaked its most honest and raw.

Though Rift marks just the start of an exciting career, Clara Mann appears to have found her sonic home already – invoking the comforting solitude that is creativity, through cracked wood and sunbeams, bringing us right into that room with her.

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:: stream/purchase Rift here ::

:: connect with Clara Mann here ::

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A CONVERSATION WITH CLARA MANN

Clara Mann: I think I feel really relieved. It’s strange – it’s a bit like carrying something for so long. I guess it’s like having a baby, you know? And while a lot of these things are still really important to me and present in my life, I’m really ready to put them down. I feel like I’m ready to release it and let other people take responsibility, to let them bring their own stories to the album. Carrying such a deeply personal album and talking about it is quite a big responsibility. And that’s really beautiful, right? I’m so precious about it and so happy with it. But I think it’ll be really nice to share it properly and have other people carry it with me, basically.

Clara Mann: I mean, I think, you know, I’ve made like two EPs before this and it felt like a very different thing. I was like, how do people make so many songs that all make sense together? And then stick with it for such a long time. The people I worked with were just incredibly inspiring and really made so much room for me to play and be playful in the studio. So it felt like a very natural process. It didn’t feel like things were being drawn out of me. I was like, I have these songs and I want to do them justice and I want to make them into something that feels close to me and I want to reduce control of them – and they just completely understood that. So from the writing, which was all me, just on my own in various bedrooms scattered across England, to that process, I just felt very close to the songs. There was never a point where I felt detached, which I think is something that artists can experience. The studio, the whole process just felt incredibly authentic. I feel really lucky to have experienced that.

Clara Mann: I loved that process where no one was taking the songs away from me. It wasn’t overly producer-collaborative – the creative control always felt like it was mine, and people were so respectful of that. I think people recognized that these are vulnerable songs in a lot of ways where I’m being, you know, vulnerable and giving a lot. They wanted to make sure that I didn’t feel like that was just being taken from me.

Some of the songs, I do feel now emotionally quite a long way from – I feel a long way from the Clara who wrote those songs. And then with some of them, no, that Clara is still very close to me. So yeah, I just felt really lucky with the people around me supporting me.

I tried to write stuff that wasn’t just cathartic. I wasn’t like, “I’m feeling this right now today, I’m going to write about it.” It was more like stuff that has sedimented, things I’ve sat with for a long time. That’s generally what my writing process is like – not writing in a state of intense emotion, but with a little bit of distance, because I can’t function in my emotional upheaval. It doesn’t feel natural. I need to feel it first, otherwise I don’t know what I think or feel, and I can’t write about it with any objectivity – it would just be a messy tangle.

Clara Mann: Well, it takes a while to take ownership over your project, I think. I’m young, and when I started writing the album, the work just came together and you start to see a way through. At first you’re just writing and you’re like, “Oh, I think I know what’s coming out here. I can recognize things.” And then eventually when you’re finishing the album, you’re wrapping it off and you can write according to that. But I did feel like when I wrote the song “Rift,” I was like, “I know what the album’s about now.”

Clara Mann: It’s funny, in every interview I give I have some kind of understanding of what “Rift” meant to me when I wrote it and what it means now, but different things come in, different memories of what I was writing about.

“Rift” has multiple meanings. One of them is like an argument or a falling out between two people or, you know, a relationship of any kind being torn apart. And also a rift is the gap that emerges when tectonic plates move apart. You see those pictures of cracked earth, like cracked ice. For me, that was the image I had in my head – these cracks emerging. After violence and emotional distress, what’s left? Those cracks shape the rift, which became this space that in my head was like a valley, a dark valley left by one of those tectonic plate movements, maybe a gorge which I was moving through with no sense of light at the end. You’re just moving with this blind faith that keeps you going through this valley, even though everything is dark and desolate and there’s nothing that you recognize.

I think it’s even the point where you’re not even feeling really emotional pain anymore because, in a way, feeling emotional pain is a sign of feeling something. It’s like this sense of numbness where you can’t even hold on to anger or sadness anymore. You’re just like, “There is nothing that I recognize.” And anger and sadness are familiar feelings – it was just nothing. That was what “Rift” was, and then it took on multiple meanings in the song.

I remember in terms of the themes, when I first sat down and looked at the songs that I had – I hadn’t even finished writing the album really – I was like, “What’s coming out here?” I realized there’s a lot of guilt, a lot of “How do I live with myself?” and “How do I live with my own contradictions?” I think as a child or as a teenager, I thought I was just a happy person who liked to have fun and smile. And then I was like, “Oh God, I’m all dark, I’m all sad and bad.” And then actually, you learn to sleep with both parts of yourself and recognize both parts of yourself, which is very difficult. I was asking, “How do I live with myself and expect people to love me when I have these things that are difficult to live with?“

It was about hope and acceptance and a journey of healing that was really helpful for me. I hope that comes through even when the music is very sad.

Clara Mann: So, it was not something that I did – I wasn’t like a guitarist in my teens at all, and I didn’t want to be in a band or anything like that. It just really happened to me because I was going to loads of shows in Bristol near where I was living. I’d get the bus into Bristol. I’d just go to whatever was on and I had friends in music, and I was having the best time ever. I was like, “This is the best thing I’ve ever done. I’m going to do it forever.” I got a guitar at that point. I was musical – like classical piano in school. Piano was my thing, so songwriting for guitar wasn’t that natural.

Clara Mann: I listen to a lot of music – pretty much all the time. I’m into choral and classical music, traditional sounds, and of course, a lot of country music. I also love American singer-songwriters. When I get writer’s block, I go back to certain albums that inspire me, and I think, “How did they do that?” It helps me figure out how to problem-solve in my own writing.

Creativity is elusive sometimes. There’s a feeling of control, but also a sense that it’s not all in your hands. You can’t just wait for the song to come to you; it’s like sketching – you keep practicing until something sticks. I think the process of experimentation and trying things out is underrated. Even when nothing seems to be coming, you’re still moving forward.

I’m also a visual person – I draw and write. I find a lot of inspiration in the dialogue I have every day. The words or phrases I hear in conversation often become starting points for lyrics. So when I hit a block musically, I’ll switch to something tactile, like drawing or writing. I find that when you have something in your hands, it helps spark new ideas.

Clara Mann: I think listening to songs and learning from other people’s music is really valuable. I don’t do it too much, but when I do, it’s not about trying to sing it better than they did. It’s about understanding how they did it. If there’s something in a song that resonates with me, I want to unlock that. I’ve learned a lot by approaching it this way. So my advice is to listen to a ton of music.

For me, my songwriting came naturally, especially when I started exploring the guitar. I wasn’t trained, so I was completely naive, discovering the instrument with no rules. Every time I picked it up, it felt like a new possibility, especially with alternative tunings. That sense of exploration definitely influenced my work. Growing up, I listened to a lot of traditional music – my mom played a lot of Paul Simon, country music, and Irish folk. I also listened to a lot of French music since I spent part of my childhood in France. Artists like Balajo and Serge Gainsbourg, whose lyrics are incredibly poetic, shaped me in ways I didn’t consciously realize at the time.

I never really thought about it as a deliberate influence. I wasn’t thinking, “What should I do now?” It was more about how the songs came out. Ultimately, I think I wanted to do things on my own terms. I never imagined being in a band; I just wanted the freedom to create whenever and however I wanted.

Clara Mann: I think “Rift” was a very difficult song to perform. When I’m in the writing process, it just happens naturally, and I’m not really thinking about writing. So, it’s not like I’m trying to make a specific point or anything. But when I come back to those songs, especially the more painful or emotionally charged ones, they can be hard to sing. “Rift” was one I found difficult to perform for a long time. Now, though, there are songs that really, truly absorb me and take up a lot of emotional space.

Songs like “The Dream” have to do with returning to the piano because that was my first instrument – it feels familiar and homely. When I wrote “The Dream,” I remember feeling like, this is it. I knew that song was going to shape the album. After that, I wrote one more song, but by the time I wrote “The Dream,” I felt like the album was complete. It didn’t need anything else.

For me, “The Dream” was a song of acceptance. It’s about trying to love all the broken parts of yourself, embracing those pieces of your personhood, and learning to love something even when it’s broken – recognizing that it can be reassembled in a new way. So, those songs really affect me, in a profound way.

Clara Mann: Yeah, I think “The Dream” is interesting because it’s not an obvious choice – it wasn’t one of the singles, for example. It hasn’t been a single at all. But it’s a song that just came to me, and lyrically, it really resonated with me. It’s like when you feel like a song just strikes you, almost like lightning, and it happens to you instead of you making it happen. That’s how I’d describe it.

Clara Mann: I’d love to raise a family in the countryside because I think creative kids often come from environments where they’ve been bored or lonely at times, where they’ve had to make their own fun, like playing pirates and princesses. But it’s more about the verbal side of things, maybe – it’s a very specific, almost French thing, I guess.

I have vivid memories of singing, and I think growing up between languages really shaped me. If you’ve spent a lot of time around different languages, you probably know this too – you become hyper-aware of language. Words become more important, and you realize the limits of one language compared to the expansiveness of your first language. I think that’s something I felt a lot, and it’s one reason I find language so stimulating. Both my parents are word people – writers, translators, academics – so language was always a central part of my life. I read so much as a kid, and that made words incredibly important to me. It’s no surprise that my music is so lyric-driven.

Clara Mann: I definitely have more confidence now than when I started, and that’s just come with growing older and gaining more experience. I have a real faith in my music – it’s something that’s good for me, something that makes me happy. I feel very sure that making music is right for me; it makes me feel alive. It’s also made me less scared of making mistakes, which I think is a huge part of the process. Over time, I’ve become much less frightened of asserting myself. I know what I want creatively now, and I can admit that to myself and to others in a way I wouldn’t have been able to a few years ago, before the album.

Clara Mann: Yeah, it’s really important, and it’s something I do on my own. I’m a solo artist, so while I occasionally collaborate with others, it’s mostly just me. You learn a lot about your hidden strengths and your weaknesses through things like touring and recording. You have to accept all of it. Self-deprecation is so exhausting – it’s just not useful. I don’t have time for that anymore. I think it’s really beautiful, though, to be able to look at a period of your life or something you’ve gone through, wrap it up, and say, “Cool, I can put that down now.” It’s like you’ve bottled it up and placed it on the shelf. It’s there whenever I need it, and I know it’s part of me, but I don’t have to experience it every day. That’s why I write songs.

Clara Mann: I feel like my music is very personal because I write everything on my own. But recently, I’ve started collaborating more, especially with production and instrumentation, which I hadn’t done before. I’m not as scared of letting other people in anymore. I used to have a hard time trusting people, but now I’ve met people I trust so much, and it’s amazing. It’s a really wonderful feeling. My work is still very solitary, though, and I like it that way. As much as I sometimes say, “I’m so lonely, I wish I had a bunch of friends with me on the road,” there’s something special about having complete agency over everything. I can decide what I’m doing, where I’m going, and when.

That said, it can be tough being around someone with that kind of impulsive energy all the time. I’m not saying it’s all free-spirited and exhilarating – it can be exhausting, even for me. A big part of the last year has been learning to trust people, to realize that not everyone is trying to take something from me. People are actually trying to support me and honor my vision. It’s been a beautiful and loving process, but yeah, it’s still pretty solitary.

Clara Mann: I’ve been playing a lot of these songs for a while, not all of them, but a few. I’ve been saying, “I love this song, and I can’t wait for you to hear it live in a year and a half.” And then, just a month ago, I played a set at a festival. Festivals can have a weird vibe, especially if you’re a quieter artist, but when I looked up during my set, something felt different. Something had really changed. I felt like the crowd, who had always been so respectful and lovely, was suddenly so invested. People knew the songs I was singing because they were the singles, and some were quietly singing along. I think that’s when I realized that they really understood what I was doing.

I don’t know if that’s happened before and I just didn’t notice it, but it felt different to me this time. I was really moved by it. It reminded me that music is about sharing, about communication. When you write, you’re saying, “I feel this. Do you feel it? Do you understand me?” It’s a deep longing to be understood, and suddenly I felt like we were recognizing each other. That’s what music is all about. It’s about communication. I’m just so happy about that, whether it’s with individual people or during a show or tour. That sharing is the most beautiful thing about music.

Clara Mann: I think I’ve learned to trust timing. I’ve always been impatient, wishing I could just have something now. I felt that impatience for a long time. But looking back, I’m so glad this is when it’s happening because I wouldn’t have been ready to do it justice before now. I’ve grown and evolved, and I feel ready for it now.

Clara Mann: I think this album opens doors for me musically. I don’t want to define myself by genre or sound, or limit myself by an identity. I want to keep things open. However, the identity of “me, Clara” is very visible, and that’s just the truth – I can’t do it any other way. But I don’t want to box myself into a specific label, like “psychedelic folk” for example. This is my first album, and I’m just starting now. It’s about where this leads me, in terms of my writing and creative journey. So, I see it as opening doors for me on a personal level, while also closing some others. But I’m grateful to be able to put things down and express myself this way. That’s really all I can say for now.

Clara Mann: I hope this album feels hopeful. Recently, I’ve been talking to a lot of friends who have been through heartbreak, and I think this record reflects that – both romantic heartbreak and the general heartaches we go through in life. There’s this feeling when you’re in the middle of a heartbreak, where you think, “I’ll feel like this forever,” and you just can’t imagine a time when it won’t hurt like this. I remember feeling that way, and I want to remind people that it’s okay – it’s not fine, it’s not fixed, and it’s not gone, but you’re okay. You wake up, and halfway through the day, you realize, “I’m okay today.” That’s the feeling I want this album to convey. You don’t always have to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but you know it’s there. Sometimes, when you’re going through something really hard, all you can do is tell yourself, “I know it’s there, I just have to get through today, then tomorrow.”

That’s what I feel this album is about. It’s like, heartbreak doesn’t always get better, but you get better. The pain doesn’t disappear, but it moves further into the background of your life. It’s not at the forefront anymore; it doesn’t dictate your every day. Some days it might still come up, but you don’t have to face it alone. I think sometimes you just need someone to tell you, “You don’t have to believe in it right now. I’ll believe in it for you.” That’s what I hope the record does.

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:: stream/purchase Rift here ::

:: connect with Clara Mann here ::

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Rift

an album by Clara Mann