We reach Beth Orton shortly before her concert on December 26th in the monumental complex of Santa Maria la Nova, in Naples, the first of the four live shows included in the “Feminine Stories” series scheduled in the Campania capital. The singer-songwriter from Norwich talks about herself with an open heart, revealing some private anecdotes linked to a profound internal crisis, fortunately overcome some time ago, but also pleasant memories of a bright past.
What did the artistic experience shared with William Orbit leave you with?
William helped me understand the structure of a song. I've always written poetry since I was a child and he showed me a rudimentary understanding of verse/chorus structure and how a poem can become a song.
What remains today of the sweet girl who comes from Norwich to the heart of London to savor and capture the spirit of the 90s?
This is an important question. What remains? It lives in music, forever held in time. It was then really difficult to abandon her for a while. I didn't want to be disloyal to the people who first heard my music and loved my songs.
Did you feel like you had betrayed them?
Certainly, I had the feeling that growing up would mean moving away from the loyalty of my initial audience. I don't know if that's true. But I know that when I sing the old songs, as well as the new ones, I can integrate all of my selves. Music allows unconscious connections to be accessible where they otherwise would not be. I can find my past self by singing my first songs, just as the audience can find their past self in my songs that mean the most to them.
What concert will it be in Naples?
I will play acoustic piano and guitar and will be joined by Sam Amidon. Together we will play songs that have characterized my entire career.
I know you love reading so much…
Exact.
Is there an Italian novel that you have read and appreciated?
“The perfections”, a book published by Fitzcarraldo in the United Kingdom. It was written by Vincenzo Latronico and translated by Sophie Hugh. I was a judge for the International Booker Prize last year and was very supportive of it.
You sang for the Chemical Brothers on “Alive Alone”. What memories do you have of that experience?
I lent my voice to the first three Chemical records. We are still friends. A particular memory? On “Alive Alone” I sang in the shower with Tom Rowlands.
What relationship did you have with the unforgettable Andrew Weatherall?
He was a dear friend. We didn't talk much, but we laughed a lot!
How did pregnancies or the natural passage of time influence the songs on “Weather Alive”?
I had to grow up to become a person worthy of my children and their love. I also had to become a person capable of caring for others to then also be a good parent. The growth necessary to be a mother, the seriousness and fun: all this has also become part of my music. I'm more curious than I used to be, in short, I wanted to grow up and be courageous in the personal choices I made. And the album reflects precisely this change in me.
In “Friday Night” you sing, “I forgot I had bones. I forgot I could feel. I forgot we'd wake up. And it would all be true.” Where do these words come from and what exactly do they refer to?
The answer is rather sad. I was sitting at the top of the stairs at home and I was very unhappy. I felt like I had no bones, like I didn't exist. I felt like I could let go and fall down the stairs and become like jelly or rubber. I remember that feeling even now that I'm telling this story and it scares me.
And what happened after?
As I sat and thought about the repercussions of simply letting go and falling, I remembered that I had bones and that I would feel the pain of hitting the ground and then I would wake up and have to face the consequences of inflicting it on myself and the people I love. That's when I got up and went to my piano, transforming that impulse, that strange desire into poetry, lyrics and melody. I am very lucky to be able to turn pain into beauty.
Are there any young electronic singer-songwriters you particularly love?
I love Billy Eilish so much.
(December 24, 2025)
Antonio Santini for SANREMO.FM
