It’s a unique sensation to leave an interview feeling both creatively uplifted and emotionally moved. Speaking with Emma-Jean Thackray felt exactly like that. From her days teaching herself A-level music in school, to stories of her grandfather’s deep obsession with Santana, to the way she has navigated mental health through her craft, her resilience is as striking as her musical talent. She is a living testament to the power of turning pain into art.
Discovering her Superpower
Emma-Jean Thackray grew up in Yorkshire with her parents and brother. From a young age, she knew her future lay in music.“It was just this feeling — just knowing that I was always going to [be an artist],” she told me. It was around the age of 13 or 14 that she began forming her own musical identity. Jazz, of all things, came to her by accident. Between school hours, she’d wander down to the local HMV and dig through the jazz bargain bin, where she ended up discovering artists like Miles Davis, not through curation, but curiosity.

Photo by Lewis Vorn
“I’d spend my tiny bits of pocket money at HMV — like, I’ve got a pound this week and I’m going to buy something. I used to love HMW, I wish it was still a thing”.
At school, Emma admits, she was “left to [her] own devices”, often labelled as “difficult” by teachers, classmates, and even her parents. But this so-called misbehaviour, she explains, was rooted in undiagnosed autism and ADHD. “I cannot sit and do my work,” she says. “I just can’t fucking do it.” But while traditional education posed difficulties, where she struggled to concentrate or follow rigid structures, it also led to something extraordinary. “It’s funny,” she says with a wry smile, “because if it’s something I really want to do, you literally can’t stop me… so in the right circumstances, it’s a superpower”.
More Than a Passion
Emma was eventually granted special permission to teach herself music technology as an A-level, since no formal course existed. She spent hours locked in the school’s practice rooms, experimenting, composing, and learning entirely on her own. Her neurodivergence became a double-edged force: disruptive in some settings, but the very thing that enabled her to lock in creatively and build the artistic practice she now thrives in. Music in turn became more than a passion, but a space that helped her mind focus, a refuge where everything made sense.

Photo by Lewis Vorn
To this day, music continues to hold that space. “Being on stage is my happy place. It’s where my brain is working perfectly and feels so calm. I’m never thinking about anything else other than the music and it’s just pure. And then as soon as I get off stage, I’m just back to being an anxious mess in a world of sensory overload”. Emma recognises both the power of music as a form of self-regulating, but also providing a space for her listeners to do the same:
“There is a heaviness in my music, but it’s a privilege, not a burden to be able to create that”.
Writing Through the Dark
That privilege became a necessity when Emma-Jean Thackray was faced with one of the darkest periods of her life – the sudden loss of her long-term partner in early 2023. She spent nearly a year processing that grief alone, writing and producing Weirdo from the confines of her bedroom. The result is an unfiltered emotional journal set to music that is raw, reflective and unapologetically honest. “Lots of my close friends didn’t like the album,” she admits, “because it was too difficult for them to listen to”.

Photo by Lewis Vorn
Compared to her acclaimed 2021 debut Yellow, which explored cosmic themes, collectivity, and joy, Weirdo is starkly inward.“The seed of Yellow was very much about the universe and things outside of me,” she explains. “It was about looking outwards… and the process of that was about togetherness with other people.”
“’Weirdo’ was very much about looking inward. Like it’s just about me”
She tells me that, in many ways, it feels like the work of two different artists. The genre shifts reflect that transformation, from the brass-fuelled optimism of Yellow to the distorted, vulnerable sonic palette of Weirdo. Brass remains a consistent thread, a nod to her roots: “It’s woven into the fabric of Yorkshire,” she says. But in Weirdo, its placement is more intentional. “Where I’ve chosen brass is really important and very telling. I think those are the moments where I’m being more vulnerable.”
For Emma-Jean Thackray, music has never really been about genre, but about storytelling. The concept of genre, she says, is increasingly irrelevant to her process. “Genre doesn’t serve me when I’m creating.” She laughs, recalling a phrase a friend once told her that has since become a kind of mantra: “I am the genre.” This genre-fluid approach has given her the freedom to fully inhabit her artistry, without boundaries or expectation. Her music now moves between forms with ease, but always grounded in emotional truth.
Body, Mind and Soul
Music is also a multi-sensory experience for the artist. It has to do more than just sound good. “I want to move the body, move the mind, move the soul,” she says. She explains her creative trifecta: “Something visceral and groovy for the body… something cerebral and harmonically interesting for the mind… and something that’s about something real, something important, for the soul. Not just a transient thing.” This holistic, layered approach is what gives Weirdo its staying power. It’s music that can make you dance, cry, and think, sometimes all at once.
After spending time inside Emma’s world, it’s hard not to wonder what could possibly come next. “I think for the next thing, I need to explore from a place of nothingness,” she muses. “That little gap in between, I think that’s going to be key. Rest.” A few years ago, time spent in Japan left a lasting impression, particularly the quiet, deliberate rhythm of life; a “slowness” she witnessed there. “After I’ve finished my tour, I think that’s what I want. I just need permission to slow down.”
“I think for the next thing, I need to explore from a place of nothingness.”
In Emma‑Jean Thackray’s alchemical hands, grief becomes groove, neurodivergence becomes rhythm, and solitude becomes a song you want to sit with for a long time. Weirdo stands as both a testament to her process and a reflection of her power. It is a reminder that vulnerability can be visionary. She’s not just creating music, but shifting the frequency. You’ve earned your rest, Emma.
Weirdo is out now via Warner Music. Keep up to date with Emma-Jean Thackray via Instagram.