Shygirl has carved out a name for herself with a distinctive take on club music. In “Alias” and especially in “Nymph,” she proposed a style defined by experimental electronics, mutant pop, and a sensuality that is both explicit and playful. Her eagerly awaited new album, “Swallow!,” will arrive on November 6 through Because Music, and Shygirl will premiere it on the same day at the Mira Festival in Barcelona.
We had the chance to speak with Blane Muise, Shygirl’s real name, via Zoom on the very day the record was announced, and we took the opportunity to discuss the album’s shift toward guitar-driven textures, the meaning of “Club Shy,” love, and her collaborations with Madonna for the film “Confessions 2” and with Björk on several remixes.
Shygirl has a lot to say and she takes her time developing her ideas, but it is a pleasure to hear her speak with such clarity about her music and her life. She has a crisp, measured way of expressing herself, and a warmth that makes even her longer answers easy to follow.
I saw an interview you did about three years ago for the Mercury Prize. You said back then you were really deep into the album, that there would be a lot of guitars and that you’d lean a bit toward indie. Has the record ended up being what you imagined then, albeit in a different way?
Yes. We already had a bunch of songs. In fact, it was at the start of this album when I decided to release “Club Shy.” I knew where the album was headed and I had all that other music I’d made since 2020, so I thought: “Okay, maybe I should put all this club material out first.”
I enjoyed taking my time with this album and returning to it, instead of rushing to finish it. The music evolved and ended up being bigger than I thought, much more considered. Having space to explore and experiment with such freedom has been truly rewarding. And in three years a lot can happen, so everything I’ve lived through in that time is also in the record.
I wanted to start by asking you about the press note in which you describe the album as a reintroduction. Why reintroduction and not evolution?
I always think of my earlier work as the process of starting to learn a language. In my first releases I was experimenting in the studio and everything was very tied to the moment I was living. I don’t feel that I’m necessarily talking about new topics now. I’ve always spoken about my relationships, my feelings, and my experiences.
As an artist you see many people who keep returning to the same themes or reinvest themselves. I allow myself to be new every day. And with that, I suppose I need to keep reintroducing myself to others. That lets me trust the process, knowing I’m continually adapting and bringing together all the versions of myself into one, while still exploring new ways to have that dialogue.
When I was making “Nymph,” even “Alias,” I didn’t fully understand the space I was creating. I feel that “Swallow!” is a much more assured step forward. Now I’m aware of the space I’ve built for myself, and that awareness feels fresh and new.
In that same press note you mention that during the process you realized you didn’t have to leave your electronic roots behind. Were you worried about losing a part of who you are as an artist by moving in this direction?
Everything I do feels familiar because it’s intuitive to me. I actively tried not to think about what other people expect from me as an artist because, in the end, no one asked me to make new music. It was something I was exploring myself.
Everyone has an opinion about what they like about you, but you can’t live to serve others. I can only serve my own needs. That’s why my initial aim was to explore instrumentation that felt more natural. It’s something I’ve always been interested in, but it wasn’t as accessible. When you don’t play an instrument, writing a song around a guitar isn’t as straightforward. Electronic music was within my reach, right there. I think that’s why it gave me such a large platform: my early ideas were conditioned by the means I had to produce, the people I worked with, and how well they understood me.
As I began to understand myself better and ask for more, I feel the truth of my voice started to emerge. I’m someone who learns by doing and by watching others, working closely with them. I’ve been doing that for a long time, and this album is a testament to all that those who opened their spaces to me—Sega, Arca, Sophie—have contributed. It would be foolish not to have learned something from them.
It’s interesting that some artists associated with electronic music, like you or Kelela, are integrating guitars without necessarily turning to rock. What do you think allows the guitar to express something that electronic music can’t?
I’ve always been drawn to the emotional charge of string instruments, and I’d already explored that in “Woe” and “Wildfire.” With my first album I wanted to demonstrate the breadth of genres I could cover. With “Swallow!” I aimed to be more concise and lean on a more direct palette. I walked into the studio wanting these songs to exist even if I were sitting with a guitar or a piano. I didn’t want them to be defined entirely by production. I wanted them to function as songs, regardless of genre. To me, the most powerful songs are those where the words work with a piano, and you still feel the same thing as you do with all the production.
Now that you say you wanted the songs to be more centered on composition, it’s interesting because tracks like “Altar” have particularly dense production and the lyrics aren’t always clearly audible. Is there a deliberate tension between intimate lyrics and overwhelming production?
Yes, I enjoy playing with that balance. I see it as a dialogue between amplifying the emotion of what I was experiencing—the overwhelming feeling of love—and the honesty that breaks through. My listeners are around the world and speak different languages. What I love most about music is that the composition relates to the words I’ve chosen, the melodies I’ve chosen, the space between the words and the production. I like that you can deconstruct all these elements and have each one stand strong on its own, while together they also work.
«For me, the strongest songs are the ones where the words work with a piano»
This might be a silly question, but I was curious about the exclamation mark in the title. I was watching an interview with Dua Lipa and the writer Kaveh Akbar…
Yes! I was just watching that interview too.
I didn’t know the writer, but I find it funny when she asks him about the exclamation mark in his book “Martyr.” He says that the word itself sounded too solemn for a book that also has humor. When I read the title of your album, I had a similar sensation. With the exclamation mark it feels like a command, an order.
It was very funny watching that interview because I thought: “Yes, that’s why I love language and the intention behind how you read something or what it means to you.” I liked the double meaning of “swallow,” the bird idea, but for me it was secondary. I like “swallow” as an action, as something you do. That’s how I understand love. Love means something when you act on it or demonstrate it with what you do. Otherwise, it’s merely a concept.
During the process of making the record I kept telling myself: “I’m doing this for me and you’ll have to accept it, because I have to do it.” There are ideas of consent, context, and intention that feel fun to explore as an artist. And I see many fans trying to figure out what it means for them. Each person will interpret this record according to what it means to them, regardless of my intentions or the context I have. But I love the game of ‘swallow.’ The exclamation mark didn’t come immediately either.
When did it appear?
About two weeks after I decided I was going to call it “Swallow.” I thought: “Wait, exclamation mark!” It felt like the missing piece.
The moment of the lightbulb.
Yes. Sometimes adding that action or that intention can feel vulnerable because I’m literally saying: “This is this and this is what I want it to be.” I’m not leaving it open to interpretation. It’s this.
Did you have the live show in mind when you were writing these songs? Did you think about how they would work on stage?
Yes. While I was working on the album I was touring. I used “Club Shy” as a way to reconnect with that space in a slightly looser, more informal manner. After “Nymph” I’d been doing all the shows for that project and everything was very tightly rehearsed, exactly as it had to be. I wanted “Club Shy” to be more experimental to reconnect with the space, spontaneity, and energy. There I was playing the early demos for this album. In fact, I performed “Alyse” at Glastonbury for two consecutive years without the crowd realizing it. It was beautiful to use the audience’s energy to fuel what I wanted for the record. Then I did the SWEAT tour, played arenas, and I wanted to make an album capable of filling that space.
Listening to the lyrics, I get a sense of release through love, sex, or even losing yourself. In “Mantra” there seem to be different ways of doing that. Were you seeking that sense of liberation, of being okay somewhere else with someone else?
For me it was about feeling as solid as I could and finding myself. I never felt I was trying to lose myself, but I always tried to have fun, dive into my desires, and follow that thread of desire. Then I found someone who saw me completely and I met the person I fell in love with. That broadened my idea of love enormously. I have a lot of love in my life, but finding someone with whom I truly wanted to be, who saw me as an equal and saw me so clearly, is indescribable.
“Lucky” was the first song we wrote for this record. It developed slowly and my partner ended up singing on it. It was beautiful to include them in the process, though also quite vulnerable because we had only been together for about three months. I kept doing more things like that, proving to myself that I had to expose myself. Things become real through what you do. If you don’t show that you can trust or be vulnerable, you don’t receive that vulnerability back.
I felt very grounded and fulfilled when I met someone at a moment when I was truly there for myself and didn’t feel I needed anyone. At the end of “Nymph” I had a lot of support and could see what would happen the following year: Asia, Australia… I met my partner just before leaving for Australia. We had one day together and then I invited them to come see me in Tokyo. It was very spontaneous.
It was inspiring to be in that, but also to discover the vulnerability of being in love. Realizing you’re in love with someone means realizing you can be hurt. That is what’s woven into this album: the intensity and the brutality that love can have, and yet the need to throw yourself back at it again.
Aren’t you a little afraid of putting a budding relationship on an album forever?
It’s a funny moment to be living this because with anything you don’t know what will last and what won’t. Being able to commemorate it… I’ve listened to this record a lot. I finished it last December and I still love it. I’m not tired of it. That means a lot to me.
«Madonna has had such a storied career and she’s still so on top of everything»
I wanted to ask you about Madonna and Björk before we wrap up, because we probably have a few minutes left. You’re involved in “Confessions 2.” What is your strongest memory of working with Madonna?
I feel incredibly grateful to have been able to see people I admire in their working habitat. I’m lucky to have also spent time with Madonna outside of work, and seeing how grateful she is for that space is truly inspiring.
I’m amazed to have a career so illustrious and to still be so extraordinary at what she does. Especially as a woman in the industry, I’m grateful to be able to see someone working and to witness that she remains as involved and enthusiastic with the people coming up as she was with the big figures when she began. She stays as aware as anyone.
If Madonna asked you to choose one of her songs to represent who you are as an artist, which would you choose and why?
She wouldn’t bother asking me that. (Laughs.)
Okay, but I’m asking you.
For me it changes constantly. Perhaps this album sits more in the territory of “American Life.” It’s hard to pick just one song, but I think that album is fascinating because, technically, it’s one of her albums that didn’t work, or whatever you want to call it…
It’s an incredible album.
It is. I think some people simply found it difficult to hear what she was saying. That’s the context and the way people relate to a work. But in the end, the music becomes timeless, and now that album can travel beyond the context in which it appeared. That’s something I aspire to with my album. It doesn’t need my presence to be great. It’s simply very good music.
«Björk shows that women don’t stop being interesting as we age»
I also wanted to ask you about Björk, since you’ve collaborated several times. I’m especially interested in the remix she did of “Woe.” Was it an unreleased Björk track that she incorporated into the piece?
She sent us the vocals and then Sega and I worked a lot more on the production.
It’s a remix of your song, but her vocals are entirely new, right?
Yes, they’re new. She’s singing a response to the words I was saying in the song.
You’re friends, you’ve had dinner together and everything. What have you learned from her as an artist or as a person that’s stayed with you?
I think it ties to the idea that exists about women and all the constraints we’re imposed as we age and keep occupying space. People get bored of us and it seems we’re only valuable during our youth. It’s a mistake, because we remain the same people inside.
I don’t understand why there’s this notion that we’ll stop being useful to the industry or to people. The industry has changed a lot. The last time we were together I realized she was up on all the music I’d been listening to. We were going through her playlists and listening to exactly the same people. Of course, more, but we were listening to the same artists. She was listening to Sega and all that.
For me it’s exciting to meet women who aren’t burned out by the industry, but also women who have carved out a space for themselves and have set boundaries about what the industry can take from them and what they can get from it.
«People get bored with women and it seems we’re only valuable during our youth»
Recently I read an article about the gap between men and women: that men reach their peak in their 40s (George Clooney as an example), while women supposedly peak much earlier, at 25. It gives the sense that women haven’t had the same chance to age and keep doing unbelievable things, even though they do and always have.
That’s the problem, really. It’s difficult to study that because there’s a huge inequality in the opportunities we’re allowed and given. Perhaps, specifically in music, men don’t have the same opportunities as soon as women because women are considered more interesting when they’re younger. And perhaps the men who do get in have more time there. There might be a balance on both sides, I don’t know. But the only thing I know is that I’m not going to wait for someone else to tell me when it’s my turn.
One last question about the album. We wanted to know more about “Eternal,” the track that closes it, because it seems to be a clear example of what this new record is doing and what it represents for you. What is it about?
It returns to the idea of love as action. In the lyrics I say: “Why would I lie? It’s a lie until it’s true.” I can say “I love you, I love you, I love you,” but it’s our existence, what we do, and the family we build each day that makes it real. When it stops being that, then it’s a lie.
It’s very beautiful that you have to believe the lie in order to make it real. There’s something romantic in that: neither member of a couple truly knows the other’s mind beyond what they say and do. I can’t live inside your head, you can’t live inside mine. You just have to trust me.
And that’s very beautiful. There’s the eternity of that process. All over the world, someone longs to be loved or to love another person and to throw themselves into that process again and again.
