Josie Lambert

Tha sin na shluagh làn a rèir ìrean àrd-ùrlair. Rinn triùir dhiubh film dheth, agus sheinn aon dhiubh còmhla ris – gu dona, gu h-àrd, gu foirfe.

Thathar ag ràdh gur mearachd a th’ ann a bhith a’ losgadh a-steach don t-solas. ’S e seo an aon àm cuideachd a bhios mo ghuth agus m’ aodann ag aontachadh ri chèile.

Tha a’ ghaoth a’ gabhail leth na fuaime a-muigh an seo. Cumaidh mi orm a’ seinn co-dhiù — mar as trice is e an seinn leis a’ ghaoth ann an tè onarach.

Tha mi a’ tighinn an seo airson cleachdadh oir chan eil duine ag èisteachd a dh’aona ghnothach. Na daoine a stadas, stadaidh iad oir bha iad ag iarraidh.

Three places I practise. The empty stage is the scariest — no audience means no excuse.

One second-hand interface and a borrowed mic. Nobody in the comments has ever asked what I recorded on.

Dubh-chòmhdach os cionn an dorais, bobhstair ri taobh a’ bhalla. Tha rudan bog nas fheàrr na rudan daor airson a’ chiad sealladh.

The wind eats half the sound. What is left is the part that actually carries — good practice for any room.

The song people know me for was written between my flat and my old job, into a phone, with the engine in the background.

Forty pounds and a warm cider. I would still do it for the cider, but do not tell the next venue.

Air a chlàradh a-steach do fòn aig an uinneig chùil. Tha fuaim a’ bhus fhathast anns an demo agus chan eil mi ga thoirt a-mach.