Issue 113 / April-May 2021

PIXEY
PIXEY’s thoughts are currently circling back to the once sample-happy newbie who fell
feet first into a BBC-backed whirlwind of support and success. “What have I got myself
into?” she laughs, recalling her first impression of launching a career in music four years
ago. There’s a clear a cautionary tone, one which breaks with the usual fervour that
arrives with the first signs of progress and recognition. In this case, the ascent happened so
quickly a feeling of vertigo soon followed.
Drowning in fear and ill-prepared for the reaction of her ever-growing fanbase, to say the
beginnings were overwhelming would be an understatement. A lot quickly unfurled from what
she once regarded as a “haphazard production” in her bedroom studio.
After a short break from music, the 2017 version of Pixey we first met is indistinguishable
through today’s Zoom connection. The figure on the other end of the call is bright and
intriguing. There’s no lingering shadow of nerves or self-doubt. As she puts it herself:
“I’m not just a newbie anymore… not just starting out for the first time.” The sense of
determination is palpable. It’s an energy that has weaved its way through her musical
career and pushed her out of the cocoon where she once sat so comfortably.
You have to look back five years to locate the central source of this drive. In 2016,
Pixey came face to face with her mortality. A sharp shock to the system in the form of
a health scare reset her perspective, seeing her finally make the steps she needed to
begin her journey and pursue a career in music. While dreams of becoming the next
Ed Sheeran had faded, the equipment she had gathered on this failed quest remained.
Blowing off the dust and downloading her trusted Ableton she set up a bedroom
studio – before it was mandatory.
Battling with illness and social anxiety, her innovative thinking saw her use
her talent and determination to not only heal herself, but to lay the foundation for
future her (the one we meet
today) to be able to survive
and thrive, regardless of
the circumstances. And
although she did not foresee
a global pandemic, her home
recording abilities definitely
made the adjustment to the
new normal easier.
Before the significant
social shifts 12 months ago,
Pixey had already shown
people what she was about.
With her early release, Young,
quickly gaining attention,
people had high hopes for
the new star. With her marketable pop sensibilities, combined with an
experimental approach by way of a lack of classical training, Pixey offered
a new voice to young women. Not offering up regurgitated tales of tortured
relationships and imperfect love. She captured what it is to be young and
free in the face of difficulty. BBC Introducing soon cottoned on.
But often success can lead to a feeling of inadequacy, leaving one
to doubt their ability and fear that any consequent project will not
live up to the standard that has been set. We see this internalised
battle constantly within creative fields and, for Pixey, it was one that
paralysed her.
After a recent break, she is back with a renewed motivation and a
backlog of people she feels need to be proved wrong. The fire under
her is regularly fuelled by the memory of being told ‘you’ll never
be as good as me’ by men she once associated with. To them, this
revitalised Pixey simply says “piss off” and carries on. Their words
have pushed her to better herself and become more than they
ever could be.
Apart from the flute, which was an unprecedented disaster,
Pixey has taken to every instrument she has picked up. Her
recent lockdown project saw her become the neighbour from
hell, refusing to rest and instead deciding it was “a good time
to be learning stuff”. Stuff, to the horror of her neighbours,
meaning drums. “I practised three hours a day,” she laughs.
But practise makes perfect and her once favoured choice of
programming drums is no more. Her lockdown release, Just
Move, premiered these talents.
The trend continues with The Mersey Line, as good
a love letter to Liverpool as we’ve ever heard, or more
specifically to Liverpool’s docks. Pixey’s slice of serenity is
by the water, a place that allows her to “reset and take the
next step”.
“If my head’s feeling cloudy or I’m feeling upset or I
feel confused,” she continues, “I’ll go down there for a
14
“It felt like I
was running an
uphill battle”