SINÉAD HARNETT

In a strange paradox, setting firmer boundaries actually leads to more carefree moments.

Sinéad Harnett possesses this carefree, effortless charm. To date, she’s the only person I've met who’s ever popped on to a remote interview eating her lunch, and she did it with humor and style. 

“I’m just going to finish this egg, if you don’t mind,” she laughed. Sinéad was outside in the sunshine, sunglasses on, a light breeze blowing. In a manner that can only be described as Old-Skool Cool, she showed off the contents of her lunch sack. “I just came here with my laptop to take the call. I'm just doing a million things all the time. I'm just, you know, being the general ADHD nutter that I am.”

Her casual charm threw me off. I was ready to come into the interview guns blazing, ready to take a deep dive into the intense music theory behind the songs on her masterful album Boundaries. Given the cerebral nature of some of those compositions, I was expecting a more intense artist. I was delighted when instead we talked too long about which Harry Potter character we’d be.

One thing I love about Sinéad is that behind every relaxed, easygoing aside is a followup remark that contains philosophical depth. “The escapism of film and books is stunning,” she continued. “You know when you've gone on holiday – which I do not remember the last time I did – and you just read every day lying down? It's just amazing. As a teen I just would stay up till like 3 AM reading Harry Potter because it was that good.” 

Now, as an adult, Sinéad has successfully created art that has a similar effect on others. Her record, Boundaries, absolutely consumed me. It was the first album in a long time that was so daring in its song structure that I actually had to pull out an instrument and learn them to make sense of what was going on. Unfortunately, the only instrument I had nearby was a melodica, so I spent an ungodly amount of time whipping up a melodica cover of her song “Shoulder” so I could figure out the harmonic progression.

When I mentioned this to Sinéad she, of course, made me play it for her. Never have I ever been so embarrassed in my life. But when Sinéad Harnett asks you to play her song “Shoulder” for her on the melodica, by golly you gotta do it.

To put me at ease, Sinéad responded by explaining that her piano skills were on par with those of Ross Gellar, which made me laugh. Apparently Friends was always on at her house growing up. “It seems to be a bit Marmite-y for a lot of people,” she remarked. “You either love it or hate it. Friends seems to be that way, but it was always, like, having company in the background. It was just always on.” 

The piano was also a source of comfort and joy for Sinéad. “The piano kind of became the first part of a cathartic release for me – that being gifted by a family friend,” she remembered. “We were poor as fuck. So when we got gifted that, it was like, ‘Oh my God, whoa. What's this gadget?’ I didn't grow up with MTV on the TV, because you had to have Sky, and obviously we couldn't afford that. So this piano was like, I don't know. It was probably like what it would be for a kid with money when they got their first car. I was like, what the hell is this? It was sick.”  

That kind of innocent, joyful enthusiasm Sinéad had early on for that piano still permeates the music she makes today. Most of her music is generated seemingly at random, with inspiration driving the entire process.

“Sometimes I'll get a lyric in my head, or chords, or a melody, and then I take it into the studio. Sometimes, obviously, if I'm working with a producer, I will hear a drum loop, or get inspired. Nine times out of ten, it's the chords that inspire me when I'm working with someone. And then nine times out of ten, when it's me on my own, it's the lyrics that come to my head, or the subject matter. For this project, this was the most times that I wrote alone.”

Given the intense subject matter about setting boundaries and embracing love of self, that solitude was therapeutic for Sinéad. “I think what was nice about this project is getting to just sit in the studio alone, hearing things, and waiting for them to hit me,” Sinéad confessed. "I felt less pressured than working with a producer from the start. That's a little bit more scary, because then I start overanalyzing whether they think it's good enough. But then for some songs, it was all of us in a room, collaborating and forming something from nothing. So I think it's nice to mix it up as much as you can, so that you don't ever tire of the process.”

It’s wild to me that most of this record was inspiration-based rather than studied or planned out. Her song, “Thinking Less,” made me think more than I have in a long time. 

“It was tricky to write, because I just was really thinking too much, which is ironic as fuck,” she laughed. “I was like, ‘No, that's not really a chorus’ and ‘Is this enough?’ And Marcus Semaj was just like ‘You need to chill out. This is enough.’”

Sinéad explained that it was hard for her to write to the tricky rhythms of “Thinking Less.” It makes sense: I don't know if she considers it 4/4 or 3/4 time, but it's got this duple over triple feel, and so you can literally feel the math continually go wrong and then fix itself over time over and over again as the chord progression loops. It's genius. 

“I guess there's that conflict, isn't there, between theory and feeling?” she mused. “And just figuring out if this is correct or does it feel good? And I guess with that song, it felt good even though maybe it wasn't theoretically correct, if that makes sense. It's hard, isn't it, with music? Because what’s loved is all in the eye of the beholder. Simplicity and middle-of-the road is understood broadly but I don't know, I'm just obsessed with people like James Blake. I'm like, how did he come up with that?”

As carefree as Sinéad presents, further discussion about the album reveals that her exuberant disposition is not innate, but earned. “To the people on my team I said, ‘Are most artists like this? This over-analytical perfectionism? Not feeling enough? All of these kind of impostory syndrome-y things?’ And a lot of the feedback was not everyone is like that. Not everyone thinks this or that isn't good enough all the time.”

She recalled seeing one of Drake’s acceptance speeches at Billboard Music Awards once, where he mentioned that he gets so self-conscious about his music that he leaves the club to go to the studio. She also recalled a Billie Eilish interview where she mentioned that everyone was miserable.

The writing experience and a subsequent series of personal realizations triggered Sinéad to begin therapy and to start developing clear and healthy boundaries, hence the name of the album.

“What a life changing thing it was to actually just talk to someone about all of the pain,” she said. “Healing the pain and addressing it for once and deciding to become the person I needed – without doing that I don't know how I would have had an album or still be doing music. I just didn't have anything to say anymore. I have a knee jerk reaction to hide and to make myself small. I think my negative core belief is that I’m undeserving. What I learned was that my inner voice was so horrific that if I could just find a way to become my friend instead of doing the knee jerk thing then maybe I could find some peace and calm in life.”

Our generation grew up with the complete and utter dissolution of boundaries. The internet was a new frontier – a grand experiment – and it required the creation of new social norms and habits to protect our wellbeing from new, unfamiliar experiences. Setting firm boundaries to protect your own well-being is more important now than ever.

“The main thing that's tricky for our times now is this incessant amount of choice,” Sinéad said when we discussed the societal breakdown of boundaries. “There's so much everywhere. This is happening now, that is happening now. I should do this and this and this."

For Sinéad, one way she switches off is meditation. “I use an app because I prefer listening to something and learning something first and then being guided through it,” she explained. “Giving myself time to do that is important. Slowing down is when you are aware of how you really feel.”

I joked that meditation is probably more healthy than my switch-off ritual: going to the movies alone and eating a ton of pretzels and cheese at 10 PM. She laughed, but stuck to her guns. “No matter what it is, you need time to yourself,” she said. “I think that guilt really encourages us to say yes to everything and keeps us in the people-pleasing cycle.”

In a strange paradox, setting firmer boundaries actually leads to more carefree moments. “I still find it challenging now, but I’m really figuring out when I need to say no. I will probably be more ruthless with my own time and energy because there's only so much you can give and there's only so many hours in the day."

"I think I spent a life people-pleasing and now I'm trying to not do that, because of the burnout and the exhaustion. There isn't the time for self-care and self-healing and reflection.”

Sinéad may be done with people-pleasing, but there’s no doubt that she’s pleasing to people. Her deep thoughts, her kind demeanor, her sense of humor, and her vulnerable and well-crafted music are all deeply admirable. Boundaries is a great album made by a great person. If you need a breezy, optimistic soundtrack for major life changes, you have a friend in Sinéad Harnett. 

Make sure to follow Sinéad Harnett on Instagram. Her album, Boundaries, is streaming everywhere.