Ben and I are preparing for our first live gig together in 25 years – and I’m terrified
In our basement studio, we’re surrounded by our own history, our own inspirations.
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Tracey Thorn
Tracey Thorn is a regular contributor to the New Statesman.
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I search for myself in the fashions and faces of Eighties photography
The pictures make me smile. The people in them seem real and alive.
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New year, same me
If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that there's no point in making aspirational resolutions.
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Charli XCX’s victory lap
A recent London show proved Brat is the album of the year, and she is the artist of the…
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Worried about the world? Time to play the piano
The concentration required for me to fumble through Beethoven leaves no room in my brain for anything else, apart…
By Motherhood is full of agony, but its songs are deemed “nice”
I’d always shied away from writing sentimental songs about having babies for fear of seeming too soppy.
By To the young, everything is fresh and new
And I must admit: I envy them for it.
By We can’t all be geniuses
The word is overused. Most of us are minor talents.
By Has social media pushed fandom to a point of no return?
It used to be people would respect your personal space – now, it’s all a bit sinister.
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