Watershed moment

Q: You had to fight to establish yourself at first, especially because you were an artist who didn’t fit any established templates. Do you think it’d be different for you starting out today?

A: It’s pretty relative. I mean, I think I’d still stand out – it’s pretty hard for me not to stand out. I dunno. I really don’t know what it’s like as a youngster to try and make it today. I’m sure it’s still quite difficult trying to get signed and become successful, though I suppose the internet, things like YouTube and MySpace, work in their favour. Still, no matter what, if you’re someone who stands out in the pack, someone like Feist, you’ll get noticed and do well.

Q: You’ve said that the songwriters whose work you covered on Hymns of the 49^th Parallel “got into your DNA” and influenced your own writing process. Was it daunting to return to writing your own material?

A: When I finished with the Hymns record and tour and went back to songwriting, I had a bit of a “Holy f---!” moment. I definitely knew it was a huge undertaking, and I knew that ultimately, whatever I put out would be compared to Hymns. But then I stopped panicking and took a moment to reflect on the fact that I scooped 30 years of work by some of the best songwriters of all time for Hymns. Even they didn’t have one record that stood out. Once I was realistic and got some perspective, once I had that reasoning, I could let go. I mean, I sung those songs [on Hymns] and dissected them and interpreted them so deeply. They really changed my relationship to songwriting and my understanding of what a song could be.

Q: Did that shift make you more comfortable paring down the arrangements on Watershed? Hymns featured ornate orchestral compositions, while a Watershed song like Jealous Dog is basically just you with a banjo.

K.d. lang performs at a show honouring Sir Elton John in 2005 in Beverly Hills, Calif. (Frazer Harrison/Getty Images)

A: The big difference is that I wrote this album over six years. I didn’t have a deadline. I had no idea these songs would even become an album! What generally happens when you’re [going through a] songwriting [process] is that you present the basic skeletons to the producer or the band, and then you all work together to interpret them and come up with a set version. And with Watershed, what you’re getting is just these raw performances.

When you’re in a studio that costs $3,500 a day, and you’re paying everyone – producers, band members – by the hour, the interpretations of the songs are immediately derivative, ’cause you’re aiming for the fastest and easiest version. Because I didn’t even think I was making a record, this one happened really naturally and authentically. It wasn’t till 2006 when I went, “Oh shit! I have an album’s worth of songs!” I just let the demos exist. What you’re listening to, the final product, is basically just the cleaned-up, polished version of those demos. The demos and produced record, um, co-exist. It’s a luxury you don’t have when you’re in a studio.

Q: Early on in your career, you made a significant shift from the torchy Patsy Cline-type stuff you started out with to softer balladry. You seemed like a gal with country music in her blood. What prompted the shift?

A: Honestly, there were probably external contributions which I can’t for the life of me recollect now. But mostly, fundamentally, my muse – which was the music itself – I’d exhausted it. The dating was over between me and country, and I returned to my early influences, stuff like Peggy Lee and Joni Mitchell. Those were the singer/songwriters who’d been my original inspirations, and so I went back to them for Ingenue.

Q: How has becoming a practicing Buddhist informed your relationship to music?

A: It’s absolutely, 100 per cent permeated every aspect of my being, so it’s obviously affected my music as well. More than anything, it turns your insight inward. I think you have a moment of realizing that the external and internal are not actually all that different, and that your perception really creates your existence and all that you experience. Watershed is a deeply self-reflective record, and it’s definitely been informed by my practice.

Q: You’ve talked about how Watershed is about you finding peace, in part through a relationship. In that sense, does the new album feel like a companion to the youthful infatuation of your 2000 record, Invincible Summer?

A: It’s really up to the listener and whoever wants to do that. For me, you could say the same thing about Ingenue and Watershed. Or even All You Can Eat. All these albums, they’re just chapters in my life, just small offerings. I think people make too much of what an album is – they focus on how it reveals who an artist is, or where they’re at. And ultimately, it’s just a record. In the long run, posthumously, I’m sure you’ll be able to look back and make more sense of the individual releases in the course of my career.