“I read the other day that something like 70% of people don’t have it,” Washo says between chomps, as we discuss how difficult it is to stream her music on Australian networks, “Can you believe that? I mean, up until last week my parents still had dial-up. I said ‘Mum, I can’t come to your house unless you get cable, this is ridiculous.'” Back in the USA, where the fibre optic cables are firmly in place, Washington is still hesitant to assign permanence to her stay. ” I don’t know if it’s a move or not,” she says, “The further I go down this road, the more it becomes apparent that even though when you start making music and you think you know what you’re about and what you want to say…the further down I go the less I know any of those things.” That’s a big admission from an artist whose debut record I Believe You Liar is now being released worldwide, and Washington is keenly aware of the irony. “People are asking me about this music and my relationship with it and I’m finding the whole experience really bizarre.”
Welcome to the Washington paradox that is actually the Serious Artist Paradox and has been for about thirty years of popular music; being successful is wonderful, except for some of the stuff that comes with it. “On the one hand, it’s great that my record is out all over the world, but on the other I have one release coming out in one country and another in something else.” What Megan’s talking about here is the fact that I Believe You Liar is now so big in Australia that it’s getting a re-release, with Insomnia forming part of the added incentive for those who don’t own it already – all five of them. However, Washo doesn’t see Insomnia as an album despite it sort of being marketed that way. “With a record it should have a conscious, cohesive vision. I had these songs and I just recorded them and put them out. That’s it. [But] there’s a certain amount of midwifery that goes around the release of something.”
The rolling melancholy of Insomnia, for those who have heard it, is perhaps even more personal than Liar and reminds listeners that beneath the celebrity and the rock’n’roll lifestyle and those goofy glasses is a girl very far away from home. “I would really like some sleep and just to synthesize everything,” Washo whispers, “I mean, it’s been a pretty huge year and – oh… I’m sorry. I wouldn’t mind a break for a little while.” Washington’s been so hard at work that not only has she not even read the overdramatic press release for the new material (“I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s possible that I approved something and someone else knowingly submitted the things they wanted,”) but she hasn’t even heard it. Seriously. “I still haven’t heard the mastered version of the record!” she laughs, “It got mixed and mastered and John put some clarinets on it or something but I just didn’t want to hear it. Not to be a sad sack but this past year hasn’t been the greatest and I just wanted to document what was going on inside my head and put it out there. But I don’t want to tour this. No way!”
Insomnia is more Rufus Wainwright than The Shins in its execution, but for Washington, that’s perhaps a more reasonable way of doing things: “That classical, spiritual world of songwriting is kind of natural to me because of going to The Conservatorium and everything. I think that once I consciously tried not to write a pop song, this is what came out. It’s an unfurling of long-appreciated tastes rather than something new.” Washington is happier revisiting her favourites because frankly, she hasn’t had time to pick up any new influences. “I was on tour for five weeks and then I had to get furniture and try and get a piano up the stairs,” she says. “I still haven’t really lived here yet. And you know what? I think I’d really like to do that.”
