Litany’s Beth Cornell opens up about processing her mental health journey through her debut album ‘Sadgirl,’ a bold, unfiltered, and unapologetically raw “anthology of depression” that reclaims her voice, transforms pain into power, and turns darkness into dazzling, danceable, irresistible pop.

Stream: ‘Sadgirl’ – Litany

Litany’s debut album is more than a record; it’s a lifeline, a cathartic reckoning, and a raw act of survival.

On Sadgirl, Beth Cornell opens the floodgates to her most vulnerable self, inviting us into an intimate anthology of depression, recovery, resilience, and renewal. She transforms the ugliest, darkest moments of human experience into glimmering, danceable pop music, weaving humor and heartbreak into songs that ache, uplift, and resonate long after the final chorus fades.

To listen to Sadgirl is to sit with someone’s pain and witness their triumph – it’s a reminder that even at our lowest, we can create something unshakably beautiful, something that insists: You are not alone.

Released April 25 via Nettwerk Music Group, Sadgirl is Litany’s first full-length project and her first major body of work since 2021’s Adult Movies EP. The album arrives nearly a decade into Beth Cornell’s journey as Litany, marking a powerful turning point not only in her career, but also in her personal evolution. Where Adult Movies hinted at deeper emotional layers beneath her breezy, tongue-in-cheek pop sensibilities, Sadgirl rips the curtain wide open. It’s the sound of an artist reckoning with the lowest lows of depression and anxiety, rebuilding piece by piece, and finding clarity through creation. Long teased across a string of singles, the album captures the weight of lived experience in unflinching detail – and in doing so, reintroduces Litany as a fearless, formidable voice in pop.

But Sadgirl didn’t emerge out of nowhere. It was forged in the aftermath of collapse – in the quiet, painful process of healing and rebuilding.

Litany’s debut album began not with a eureka! moment, but with survival: A return home, a slow reckoning, and eventually, the rediscovery of her voice.

“I’ve talked quite openly about how I struggled with a particularly dark bout of mental health problems,” she tells Atwood Magazine. “It got really, really dark for a while, really bad. I had to leave London, leave the music scene I’d worked so hard to be part of, and go home to be near my family. I couldn’t keep up with it anymore. Everything got too much. I sought therapy, antidepressants, the works. It was a long road to get back to feeling even remotely myself again. But once I started feeling better, everything started coming back to me… it just poured back into my life at full force.”

What followed was a creative flood – an outpouring of songs that felt both cathartic and necessary. With each writing session yielding gold, Litany realized she wasn’t just recovering; she was making the best music of her life. Sadgirl wasn’t just a comeback – it was an emotional imperative, forged from her innermost depths – unfiltered, uninhibited, and uncompromising.

“There’s absolutely nothing I’ve left out – no emotion, no true feeling, no honest opinion,” Cornell shares. “Everything is laid really bare. It was really important to me that this album be completely authentic. We used a lot of live instrumentation, so you can’t replicate it with a computer. You can hear every breath on the saxophone, every finger key on the flute, everything – we wanted it to feel incredibly human.”

Working closely with longtime collaborator Fyfe (aka Paul Dixon), Litany brought Sadgirl’s songs to life with both precision and heart.

Together, they chased a sonic world that could hold the album’s heavy emotions while still inviting listeners to dance, pulling inspiration from ‘90s and 2000s icons like Madonna, The Cardigans, and Jamiroquai.

“We were really desperate to find a sonic voice for this record,” she reflects. “At first, it was kind of a mismatch, because I’m writing these really heartfelt, emotionally charged lyrics, and then we’ve got… it’s just a lot! But I think something I’ve always tried to do is find the light in the dark. I don’t want you to listen to my songs and feel sad at the end; I want you to go on that journey with me. And I think we managed to achieve that with this set of songs.”

From the achingly raw vulnerability of “American Dream” to the shimmering pulse of “Hello, Anxiety” and the driving determination of “Jelly Tot,” Sadgirl balances pain and joy, shadow and light, heartbreak and healing in equal measure. Every track tells a piece of Litany’s story, offering a different chapter in an album that’s as much about reckoning as it is about resilience.

The album’s title track, “Sadgirl,” rises as a true centerpiece – a rallying cry, a moment of catharsis and confession, unraveling and radiance. Previously named an Atwood Magazine Editor’s Pick, “Sadgirl” is a spirited, seductive anthem for those struggling to recognize and reclaim their power – first and foremost, by accepting themselves for who they are. Hailed as “indie pop for the emotionally vulnerable and sonically savvy,” the Litany’s irresistible singalong cuts deep as she wears her scars openly and unapologetically, rising to an undeniable fever pitch in the song’s emotionally charged chorus: “I’m just a sad girl and that makes me happy. I’m just a sad girl, don’t need you to heal me.” It’s a passionate and personal affirmation of her true self; beyond just owning her emotions, Litany celebrates them, transforming vulnerability into a badge of honor.

Cornell calls it her “denial dancehall banger,” a song that channels the swirling chaos of personal struggle into a defiant, dynamic barnburner. “This song had to happen,” she tells Atwood Magazine. “The subject matter is tongue-in-cheek in its delivery, but it was something happening all the time. It’s a real representation of what my family gatherings were like. I just felt completely under the microscope, all the time… It was exactly how I felt at the time, and it was important to capture every aspect of what I was going through.”

Here comes a TED Talk
The subject of course, me
And everything I could do
If I’m to improve
But honestly have you considered this
I don’t need to meet and greet the new me
‘Cause I don’t need fixing

If I hear one more time
“You need to lighten up, get out of the house”
If I hear one more time
It might not happen,
turn that frown upside down

I’m just a sad girl
And that makes me happy
I’m just a sad girl
Don’t need you to heal me

Elsewhere, Litany bares her soul in the devastatingly raw “American Dream,” which she describes as the album’s most vulnerable song: A harrowing recounting of a mental health breakdown during a writing trip in Nashville that left her stranded and voiceless.

“That was definitely the start of what became my mental health journey – and what the album was written about,” Cornell recalls of her breakdown in Nashville. “That trip was the catalyst. And it was the first time, if I can be so candid, that I ever felt like I didn’t want to be here anymore… It was a really, really horrible time. I think it was important to put that on the record, despite it probably being, to some people, a bit too bare or on the nose. It’s all in the lyrics. I haven’t spared anything at all.” Those lyrics speak volumes:

This was supposed to be
My American dream
But somehow I can’t seem to shake it off

Now I’m across the pond, and I got no one
To talk me off this ledge I’m on
Sorry, I don’t mean to worry you
I’m wondering when my skin got so paper thin
Hell, I can’t take much more of this
Please can you just tell me what to do?
As I lay paralysed in this room
I’m thinking this is more than just the blues

Litany holds nothing back, spiraling into a devastating portrait of isolation, desperation, and collapse. It’s one of Sadgirl’s most gut-wrenching moments – stark, beautiful, and wholly unforgettable.

Beyond “American Dream,” Sadgirl offers no shortage of highlights. Litany opens her arms to the shared experience of mental illness in “Hello, Anxiety,” a bold and buoyant duet with Kai Bosch that transforms internal struggle into a shimmering anthem of solidarity. The poignant “Jean (Two Ships)” explore the pain of fractured friendships and emotional distance – “almost as heartbreaking as losing a partner,” Cornell says – while “Liar Liar,” her self-professed favorite, leans into brash irreverence and gleeful absurdity, turning a playground taunt into a full-fledged pop banger.

The album concludes with “Alright,” a breathtaking finale that embraces hard-won hope in the face of uncertainty. “It was important for me to write a song that says, ‘This is all really freaking shit, but it’s always all right. It’s always all right in the end.’ You owe it to yourself to go through the motions and hold that as the beacon at the end – you’re striving toward contentment. That’s how I feel, anyway. Being happy is great, but I just wanted to feel content. And I got there in the end,” Cornell smiles. “That’s the message I wanted to close the album with – I know, it’s awful. It’s awful because you can’t see the end sometimes. But if I’ve learned anything, I think the best thing to remember is, it’s going to be all right in the end… You’ve got to believe it’s going to be all right in the end.” With cinematic grace and tender conviction, Litany leaves us with one last gift: A light at the end of the tunnel.

Sadgirl doesn’t pretend to have all the answers, but it does offer a lifeline – not through saccharine platitudes, but through raw truth and real connection.

“The best thing to do is be patient with yourself,” Cornell shares. “There’s this idea that if you’re sad, it’s all just going to get better the minute something good happens – and if it doesn’t, then you’re just a piece of shit, or whatever. But no – you’ve got to give yourself the time to find yourself again.”

At its heart, Sadgirl is a testament to that long, nonlinear road toward healing. “If it could help just one person, I’d be really happy,” she says. “If someone listens and realizes, ‘Hang on, that’s how I feel,’ even if they haven’t put the D-word on it yet… maybe this gets them there a little bit quicker, and helps them seek the help they need. That’s what I’d want.”

For Cornell herself, making this album has been a journey of rediscovery and empowerment. “I’ve taken away that I’m way stronger than I ever thought I was to do this,” she reflects. “I talk about it in ‘American Dream’ – about my skin being really paper-thin. And I think I’ve proven that wrong… I just feel completely invigorated and so proud of myself, and of everyone who’s been involved in bringing this record to life.”

She may call it an anthology of depression, but Sadgirl is ultimately a testament to survival – a bold, unfiltered celebration of inner strength, self-worth, and the power of speaking your truth. Dive into Atwood Magazine’s intimate conversation with Litany below, as she reflects on the making of Sadgirl, the moments that shaped her debut album, and the resolve it takes to turn pain into power.

 “This album would not be here if I was still in that place,” Cornell affirms. “Writing it was incredibly cathartic. And releasing it has been incredibly cathartic. So long may it continue.”

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:: stream/purchase Sadgirl here ::

:: connect with Litany here ::

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Stream: ‘Sadgirl’ – Litany

A CONVERSATION WITH LITANY

Litany: Do you know what? I’ve been trying to articulate this for the last few days, for anyone who’s asked. I feel obviously ecstatic, but it’s mostly relief. I’ve likened it to this: When you’ve been with someone for a brief period and you can’t fart in front of them, but then that time comes and it’s fine – that’s what it feels like!

Litany: Yeah, a massive sense of relief. And I think as a whole project, it just hangs together better. The singles are great and I enjoyed releasing them, but I just couldn’t wait for it to all come together as one complete piece. Now that it’s out, it makes so much more sense.

Litany: It’s been very overwhelming, in the best way. It was difficult at first because when you tell your team you’re releasing an album about your mental health struggles, I get why they were hesitant… They thought, “Oh, well, this is gonna be a barrel of laughs, isn’t it?”

They were like, “You’re usually the queen of tongue-in-cheek pop records and this is maybe a bit too serious for you. Are you sure you want to do this?” But it actually worked well. I tried to deliver it in the way that I ordinarily would anything, even if the subject matter is a bit more severe and serious. And it’s resonating with a lot of people who are feeling incredibly stressed and exasperated with the world right now.

Litany: Yeah, a very long time. Don’t remind me! [laughs] I’ve talked quite openly about how I struggled with a particularly dark bout of mental health problems. It got really, really dark for a while, really bad. I had to leave London, leave the music scene I’d worked so hard to be part of, and go home to be near my family. I couldn’t keep up with it anymore. Everything got too much.

I sought therapy, antidepressants, the works. It was a long road to get back to feeling even remotely myself again. But once I started feeling better and I felt the foundation pillars of my life being rebuilt, everything started coming back to me. So whether that’s crafting a melody or how to write the perfect lyric to articulate how I’m feeling, it just poured back into my life at full force.

I went into a few writing sessions down in London to ease myself in with old collaborators, and each song wasn’t quite enough. I felt like I had so much more to say and so much more processing to do, and that was just how it worked out. After a few sessions, it was a 90% hit rate each time, and I just thought, ‘this amazing material, it’s made me feel so much better writing it and getting out there, so I want to make an album.’ And there is no better time than to just be like, “Cool, I’m coming back to the music industry. Here’s an album. Surprise. You thought I died, but I’m still here.”

Litany: Oh my gosh. Well, incomprehensibly, really. Me and my old bandmate, we were kids when we started making music out of his parents’ garage. And it was a complete fluke, really, if you analyze it. It was a complete fluke that it took off the way it did. We were both not really ready for that to happen, especially my former bandmate. It definitely took him by surprise.

And as time went on, it turned out it just wasn’t the path he wanted to take. But I’d gotten a taste for it. I’ve always loved performing, I’ve always loved songwriting, and I just thought, yeah, I’m not ready for this to end. I’m going to try and keep the momentum going — which, I’d be lying if I said wasn’t borderline impossible. You’re used to having a sole collaborator, and then suddenly they’re gone, and you have to move to London. I lived hundreds of miles away, and suddenly I had to go down there, not knowing anyone, and start meeting people, spilling my guts, and writing songs.

That was a real shock to the system. But “My Dude” was written during that time, and “Go Out,” and some really big anthems, if you like. So it was worth doing. And since then, I’ve met so many incredible people and phenomenal musicians that I think the split was probably – forgive me — one of the best things to happen to my writing and my artistry. It just meant I was able to adapt and write things with a bit more substance, drawn from my own life and my own struggles. So yeah, that’s where it stands.

Litany: You know what? It’s still probably one of my favorite songs I’ve ever written. Maybe because it was the first one I crafted entirely on my own. There’s just something so jovial and innocent about that song. I still go back and listen to that EP and think, “This is great. I did really well out of something really traumatic.” I can’t downplay how awful it was to lose my bandmate; I thought my hopes and dreams of being a musician were completely over. But I worked so hard to keep going, and I’ll always associate that song with personal triumph. I’m really proud I released it back then. And those songs are still part of the live show now – I think people would go on strike if I cut “My Dude” or “Go Out”! They’d want their money back. [laughs] They never want me to drop those.

Litany: It was a bit of a slow reintroduction back into the world of writing music. I ended up working closely with Fyfe (Paul) who also produced my last EP, Adult Movies. He really helped bring my confidence back. I was so hesitant to even call it anything for a while; I kept telling myself, “No, no, no, I’m just writing, I’ve got these ideas, but I don’t really know what I’m doing with them.” Paul spent so much time – unpaid time – just being a great friend, helping throw things at the wall until something stuck. We were really desperate to find a sonic voice for this record.

We pored over old ’90s and 2000s records – Madonna, The Cardigans, Jamiroquai – and we really wanted to take the funky basslines that had started coming through in my EPs and expand on them, to world-build with that sound. At first, it was kind of a mismatch, because I’m writing these really heartfelt, emotionally charged lyrics, and then we’ve got… it’s just a lot! But I think something I’ve always tried to do is find the light in the dark. I don’t want you to listen to my songs and feel sad at the end; I want you to go on that journey with me. And I think we managed to achieve that with this set of songs. I don’t know – I could be deluded.

Litany: Yeah – the day I wrote that song was the day I knew the title of the album. It was also the day I realized I needed to make an album. That was the turning point in all of those writing sessions. I think we wrote it in about five hours – me, Paul, and James – and it just spewed out of me. I can’t express how easy it was to write. It felt so clear in that moment: The album is Sadgirl, and I know exactly what I need to do.

I wanted every single song to be a different chapter of what I’ve been through – to really home in on the intricacies of that experience. How my family was, how my friends took it. My ex was my ex for a reason, and maybe I wanted to go back to him because it was comfortable, because he made me feel better – but that’s just bullshit. I had to go through the motions. And Sadgirl just made perfect sense as the title. It’s like the anthology of depression.

Litany: Well, I’d definitely say this album is more personal. I was hinting at writing more personal songs on the Adult Movies EP, and with this, I’ve just completely run with it. There’s absolutely nothing I’ve left out – no emotion, no true feeling, no honest opinion. Everything is laid really bare.

I think honesty is becoming more and more important, especially in the age of social media and the rise of AI, where you’re left wondering if anything is even f*ing real. It was really important to me that this album be completely authentic. We used a lot of live instrumentation, so you can’t replicate it with a computer. You can hear every breath on the saxophone, every finger key on the flute, everything – we wanted it to feel incredibly human.

Litany: Well, you definitely feel much more exposed. Releasing music in general is an incredibly vulnerable thing to do – any artist in any medium would tell you that. The minute you put something you’ve worked so hard on out into the public domain, you feel completely naked, just waiting to be judged.

But when you add the extra layer of, “Here’s everything that happened to me in the darkest period of my life, for you to ogle at and dissect,” yeah, it’s been a lot. Especially with the more ballad-type songs on the record, like “I Need a Man” and “American Dream,” they’re incredibly vulnerable. I actually really struggled to promote “I Need a Man,” if I’m being completely honest, because I didn’t know where to put myself. It’s like, Christ, I’ve given you everything – I don’t even know what more to say other than, “Ah, just have it.” You’ll get it. I don’t really want to explain it; you’ll get it. [laughs]

Litany: That’s it. All my songs are rooted in personal experiences, but they used to be about dates and boyfriends and, you know – nothing. I mean, those are important topics, I’m not going to trivialize them, but they’re less important in relation to this. This was a matter of life and death at one point for me. And I’ve gone into it in really great detail.

The thing is, when you’re depressed, the algorithm feeds you a lot of stuff on depression and stress and anxiety. You’re constantly being told to talk about it, talk about it—and we’re like, yeah, that’s a really good idea, check in on your friends, do this, do that. But it still doesn’t happen. It’s still not talked about. Your friends maybe check in, but they don’t ask you twice; they don’t ask if you’re okay more than once.

If releasing this album can do one thing, it’s to remind people that it can get really f*ing dark. And we need to check in on people and talk about mental health, and what that looks like for every individual – because it’s never the same. But you can be sure that if someone’s going through it, it’s horrendous, and we should be there for each other.

Litany: Thank you. Oh God, the messaging needs to happen. This album is a tight message.

Litany: Yeah, this was the second-to-last track I wrote for the project – just before “Alright,” which will make more sense when we talk about it. This one came out of pure frustration. I’d written all this music and thought, “Now what the f*** do I do with it?” I wondered if anyone would even want to touch me with a barge pole after everything I’d been through. I felt like I’d wasted so much time in the eyes of the industry. I was older. Maybe I seemed irrelevant to some of the more horrendous people in this business.

It was me grappling with my inner saboteur again – even though I felt so much better in myself, those voices were still there, saying, “You’ve done all this, and it’s for nothing. So now you’ve got to f*ing go for it.” It was basically a big pep talk. And when it came to releasing the first song from this project, “Jelly Tot” just felt right. It set me up – if not everyone else – for everything that followed. Writing it was a boost, but releasing it gave me a proper kick up the arse. It was the perfect way to start the campaign.

Litany: Yeah, let’s not beat around the bush, everyone. I’ve been doing this a long time, and this is my one shot now to hammer it home. And I’m gonna go in and out with a bang if you like.

Litany: Hopefully only in. Yes, but that’s what I mean. The ‘out’ was happening. That’s where all of this inner saboteur shit was coming from. And I just thought, “Oh, well, you know.” But now I’m like, cool. It’s kickstarted everything. All those worries have gone somewhere else to creep back at the most inopportune moment, I’m sure.

Litany: Yes and no. What I want is for this album to be well-received – as we all do – and to be able to do this for the rest of my life. But sometimes it’s difficult. It’s a very costly industry to be in. And without being too on the nose about it, you really have to think about these things when you reach a certain age. I mean, I’m only 31, but it still goes through your mind. You see all these young pop stars and you think, “Oh my God, where do I draw the line?” I can’t do this, that, and the other forever. Yeah, there’s definitely an element of that. But what I want more than anything is to just do this forever.

Litany: Exactly. You see where I’m coming from?

Litany: Yeah, that uncertainty was when I was writing this song. Since then, I’ve been blessed enough to sign with Network and finish the album. They gave me the budget and the means to finish and produce this record, so I guess the feelings with a lot of the sad songs I wrote have since changed. But it’s also incredibly important to document every part of this journey. And yeah, “Jelly Tot” was that kind of moment. I don’t necessarily feel like that anymore, but that’s where it was born from.

Litany: Aside from the fact that it’s probably my favorite on the record, I think it’s definitely the coolest – it’s the cool girl of the Sadgirl record. You can probably tell from the lyrics, but this one’s about being in that awful headspace I describe throughout the album, and thinking – rather naively – that driving down the M1 to my ex-boyfriend’s house would fix everything. Being with him made me feel marginally better in the moment… but obviously, that wasn’t the case.

I found myself spiraling again – caught in this cycle of one-sided lust, and just not knowing myself. I was using someone else as a safety net. And that was a massive problem when I was unwell. This moment actually happened pretty early on in my recovery, and it just felt right to open the album with this song. It’s a reminder to not depend on someone else to feel okay.

It felt like a strong scene setter – and a nice bridge between my older era and the new one. It eases you in.

Litany: Oh, I absolutely adore this song. Like I said earlier, it was the moment I knew I had to write an album – this song birthed the whole thing. The subject matter is tongue-in-cheek in its delivery, but it was something happening all the time. It’s a real representation of what my family gatherings were like. I just felt completely under the microscope, all the time.

Naturally, my family wanted to help – they could see my mental health had deteriorated – but I was in so much denial about how bad it had gotten. I’d just think, “Alright, here we go. Here comes the TED Talk. Bring it on.” I imagined sitting at the head of the table while writing this track, like I was on a lazy Susan, just watching them all take turns tearing into me: “This is what you’re doing wrong, and you’re not doing this, and you should be getting help, and you should be seeing a therapist.”

Even though they were trying to help, it was so overwhelming. I just wanted to say, “Can you give me a break? I’m already incredibly overwhelmed. You know what? f*** it – I’m happy. I’m happy being this way. Will that get you off my back?” That’s the kind of message behind it. And of course, they were right in the end… but we don’t need to tell them that. Not right now.

This song had to happen. It was exactly how I felt at the time, and it was important to capture every aspect of what I was going through. So yeah – “Sadgirl,” denial dancehall banger.

Litany: Yeah, this is definitely the most vulnerable track on the record, I reckon. It’s probably the one I struggle to talk about the most because it was just such a harrowing thing to go through.

It is very literal. I was on a writing trip in Nashville – my first time where my label at the time had paid for me to go to another country and write music. It was literally like my dream job. I cannot put into words how much it meant to me and how excited I was.

And shortly before setting off, I just… I don’t know, I can’t really explain what happened, but I kind of started to lose my marbles a little bit, for lack of a better phrase. My mum told me I shouldn’t be going because I wasn’t well, and I was like, “No, this is my American dream,” almost joking about it. I wanted to go out there and live the American dream.

But I got there and suffered an incredibly bad nervous breakdown and lost the ability to talk. They had to get me on the next flight out, two days into the trip. It was really, really bleak.

That was definitely the start of what became my mental health journey – and what the album was written about. That trip was the catalyst. And it was the first time, if I can be so candid, that I ever felt like I didn’t want to be here anymore. I was ringing my parents from the other side of the world. My dad was in Hong Kong at the time – as the song says – visiting old friends from his childhood. He lived in Hong Kong when he was younger. So he was out there, Mum was in England, and the time difference was just horrendous.

It was a really, really horrible time. I think it was important to put that on the record, despite it probably being, to some people, a bit too bare or on the nose, as you say. But yeah. I can really articulate everything else, but when it comes to the really soppy ones, I struggle to say what they mean. But it’s all in the lyrics. I haven’t spared anything at all.

Litany: Yes, absolutely. And it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t put it on there. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t delve into it, because as I said to you earlier, we need to talk about this more. We need to talk about what it can look like and how it can manifest.

It’s never just one thing – it’s a multifaceted thing. Depression is f*ed. And we need to learn a bit more about just how f*ed it can really be for so many people. So, there’s your introduction to how f*ed it was for me.

Litany: I can understand how that might be confusing for people – it was even confusing to my team at first. Like, you’ve written this really lyrically dark record, but then you want to go to a nightclub and dance to these songs?

I had a few friends at my album release party the other night, and two of them have been friends with me since I was seven. They’ve really been through every single thing in my life with me. And the first thing Emmy said was, she touched my shoulder and just went, “I’m really sorry that you went through all that, and that I didn’t really understand just how bad it got. I knew you were depressed, I knew this and that, but I’ve listened to this record and now I get it. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

And I said, “Actually, writing the record – that was the hardest part.” It was tapping into how I felt during those times, putting it into words, and putting it to song. That was the hardest thing.

Talking about it now is easier because I’ve come out the other side. Don’t get mixed up – this album wouldn’t be here if I were still in that place. It just wouldn’t. And I’m more proud of myself for coming out the other side and still wanting to release it, despite not feeling that way anymore. It’s important to get it out, because writing it was so incredibly cathartic. And releasing it has been incredibly cathartic. So long may it continue. [laughs]

Litany: So initially, it wasn’t a duet at all. I wrote this on Zoom – it was actually the first song I wrote after, when I told you earlier about coming out the other side. The melody started coming back. I just had this melody and that lyric, “hello anxiety,” circling in my head for ages. I called up a friend and was like, “Please, can you help me put this into something? I’m not ready to go to sessions, I’m not ready to go to London – I just want to sit in my tiny little box room and see if this could be something.” And yeah, it was the first one I wrote. It was another kind of two- or three-hour wonder, written just like this, like we’re talking right now.

And then, as the album was coming together, there was a question mark over what to do with this song. I said, “You know what? I really love it, but I don’t know what else I can add, because I feel like I’ve said what I needed to say.” I kind of wanted another person’s perspective, because this is so universal – what I’m talking about in this song, we’ve probably all felt at some point.

I’d heard Kai’s music – he has this song called “Spider,” and I was just obsessed with his lyricism. I thought he was so incredibly clever. I reached out, thinking, “Yeah, he’s not going to want to work with me. He’s far too cool and clever for me.” But he was like, “I’ve been a fan of yours for years. This is mad. Do you mean me?” And I’m like, “Yes! I think you’re wonderful.”

Now we’ve become incredible friends. He just released an amazing EP – if you haven’t heard it, it’s fantastic. He wrote his verse in half an hour and sent it through as a voice note, just him at a piano, and I was like, “Yep, that’s what the song was missing.” I wanted him to take the lower part so I could go up and rip it on the final chorus.

Our two voices together in the studio – ah, it was amazing. I loved it. I’ve loved collaborating, and I want to do more of that. Getting to take him out on the road last month or the month before, and doing it live every night – that was so cool. [laughs]

Litany: Yeah, so it was the final song I wrote for the record. I felt like there was something missing. When we were gearing up to release the album, there was actually another song slotted here, but I ended up swapping it out for this one. I felt like, I’ve managed to do this, I’ve come out the other side – and that was part of the journey, too.

It was important for me to write a song that says, “This is all really freaking shit, but it’s always all right. It’s always all right in the end.” You owe it to yourself to go through the motions and hold that as the beacon at the end – you’re striving toward contentment. That’s how I feel, anyway. Being happy is great, but I just wanted to feel content. And I got there in the end.

This song is kind of rooted in the disillusionment we all feel in modern life – how you guys in America must be feeling right now. I can’t cope! Every country, every sector of society seems to have this collective “this is f*ed” mentality at the moment. This song is meant to say: We can all just cry with laughter at how awful it is. We’re all going to be all right. We’re all in this together.

That’s the message I wanted to close the album with: I know, it’s awful. It’s awful because you can’t see the end sometimes. But if I’ve learned anything, I think the best thing to remember is: It’s going to be all right in the end. Otherwise, how on earth are we going to get up in the morning? It’s so overwhelming – if you get bogged down in all of it, you can’t move. You’ve got to believe it’s going to be all right in the end. So there we go, a fun takeaway message. [laughs]

Litany: Oh man, honestly, I’ve tried to pick a favorite. For the longest time, I always thought my favorite was “Liar Liar” – because it’s just so stupid, but also so kick-ass! The freaking chorus is literally “liar liar, pants on fire,” you know what I mean? I love how I’ve completely trivialized this whole thing. [laughs] But yeah, I really love that song. It was always a standout for me.

But since the album came out – and I know it’s only been like three or four days – I keep wanting to play “Jean (Two Ships).” A lot of friendships broke down when I was poly. Friendships you thought were stronger than they were. Friends you thought were more understanding than they were. And honestly, losing a friend or growing distant with a friend can be just as heartbreaking as losing a partner sometimes. That’s what this song is about. And I think the message in it has really cut through – I absolutely love the melodies on that track.

So yeah, I’d say those are probably my two standouts. But then again, I don’t know… “Kingpin” is cool too! [laughs] I don’t know. They’re all really cool. But yeah – “Liar Liar” for sheer bullshittery, and “Jean” for the lyrical content, I’d say.

Litany: How long have we got? [laughs] I absolutely love “Jean (Two Ships).” I think it’s the best-crafted song lyrically. I was really proud of myself when I wrote it – everything is a nautical reference, which was actually way harder than you’d think! “Harbor no ill feelings,” “port in a storm,” all that kind of stuff. I really took the whole two-ships-passing thing and just milked it. So I really love that one.

There’s also a lyric in Italian, which was a first for me; I’ve never sung in another language before, so that was cool… But I think my favorite lyric is in “American Dream”: “I’m thinking this is more than just the blues.” That’s the lyric. That was the lyric that set the color theme for the whole album. It’s simple, but it’s effective. And that is my favorite lyric on the album.

Litany: Yeah, of course. So “Kingpin” is… well, I gave examples of real things that happened, complete mindf*** moments when they happened. Verse two is about a very real conversation I had with a music manager, and verse one is about a very real conversation I had with a guy I was seeing. And both were just like, what gives you the authority or the audacity to treat me like that? To speak to me like that?

Although I used those specific examples, the song is really more generally about male chauvinism and how I felt exploited. When I was at my lowest, I just felt like people – some men, no offense, it’s not all men – were trying to capitalize on that, on me being down in the dumps. And it pissed me off. That day, I found out that company had made another signing, and it was a young girl, and I just entered the room so pissed off. I saw red. I wanted to write a song about male chauvinism and narcissists. So there we go. I needed that moment. [laughs]

What haven’t we spoken about? Oh, “Future Us.” That’s probably the only song on the album that isn’t sad! I’d say it’s the only truly upbeat one. Initially, it wasn’t even going to be on the record, but when everyone listened to it, they were like, “You have to put this on – this is classic Litany, such a lovely nod back to what you’ve always done.” Again, it’s rooted in truth. I’m not going to say exactly what it’s about in the interview, because I don’t want them to know, but someone was moving away. And at that time, I just thought, yeah, you know what? I’m just going to freaking wait for you. Because I still wasn’t confident enough in myself. It’s kind of like the follow-on from “Vertigo,” I guess. But you didn’t hear it from me!

Litany: Yeah, it’s a bit of a mindf***, isn’t it? You’re like, I’m sad, but I’m also happy. It just makes sense that it’s called Sadgirl, right? It leaves you feeling a little bit confused – but in the best way.

Litany: The best thing to do is be patient with yourself, I guess. There’s this idea that if you’re sad, it’s all just going to get better the minute something good happens – and if it doesn’t, then you’re just a piece of shit, or whatever. But no – you’ve got to give yourself the time to find yourself again. In my case, that took like three years. It was a really long time. Just don’t rush it. Don’t rush feeling better. Be with people who love you. And probably don’t eat too many pizzas. Carbs are fine in moderation, but don’t eat your feelings.

Litany: That’s a big question. What I hope people take away from it is much the same as the advice I’d give: Not every journey through this is linear. There are peaks and troughs – highs and lows within the already very high highs and very low lows. I think if it could help just one person, I’d be really happy. If someone listens and realizes, “Hang on, that’s how I feel,” even if they haven’t put the D-word on it yet, or haven’t realized they might be stressed or anxious or whatever – maybe this gets them there a little bit quicker, and helps them seek the help they need. That’s what I’d want.

Litany: Oh, wow. Yeah – I’ve taken away that I’m way stronger than I ever thought I was to do this. I talk about it in “American Dream” – about my skin being really paper-thin. And I think I’ve proven that wrong. You have to be incredibly thick-skinned to do this job in the first place. I just feel completely invigorated and so proud of myself, and of everyone who’s been involved in bringing this record to life. And yeah – don’t shy away from talking about things, ever. That’s how I feel.

Litany: So first and foremost, Kai Bosch 100%. I touched on it earlier. He’s just put out an EP called Pop Star of Your Dreams, and I’ve had it on loop constantly since it came out. It’s absolutely kickass. Another artist I think has flown under the radar is Twst. She makes this kind of hyper-pop-tinged stuff, and her vocal is out of this world. Lyrically, too – just, woof! Insanely good.

Who else… CMAT. I’ve been listening to a lot of CMAT. A lot of CMAT. I think “Running/Planning” is a freaking amazing song, and honestly, everything she puts out makes me go, “Damn, I wish I wrote that.” I’m not just a fan – I’m jealous of it. So yeah, those three are heavily in rotation for me at the minute.

Litany: It means so much that you’ve taken the time to delve into it, read into the lyrics, and really understand where I was coming from. That’s just so awesome. I appreciate all of your great questions – thank you for that. Thank you so much, Mitch.

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 © Marieke Macklon

Sadgirl

an album by Litany