Behind Hollie Smith in her home studio sits her electric piano and her sewing machine. One she used to write and record her fourth solo album, Coming in from the Dark. The other possibly might have proved useful, metaphorically at least, when it came to stitching it all together.

Because, as Smith explains via Zoom, although it was recorded in and around the lockdown era, it’s a grand tapestry of a record. One involving multiple studios, orchestras, string quartets, guest rappers, crooners and opera singers. One that took some unpicking of its lavish embroidery along the way. But one that’s stirring, dramatic and – while delivering plenty of Smith’s trademark vocal fireworks – gets its punch from its melodies and words.

Among the grander arrangements, there are songs that could be Bond themes (the title track) and at least one time-travel soul-opera – the closing You, which starts with a baroque harpsichord and ends with the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra’s horn section sounding the charge after a rousing choral cameo by Sol3 Mio.

“It’s pretty nuts, that song,” Smith says, laughing, “but I love it and the video is like a medieval orgy. As you do.”

It may be big, but it’s still personal. The song Billy joins Helena from her previous albumas laments to departed friends. It’s occasionally political, too, with songs such as Damage Done reflecting on the era of #MeToo and Black Lives Matter. The album arrives five years after 2016’s Water or Gold. In recent times, Smith has also released te reo versions of her early Don McGlashan-penned hit Bathe in the River, and the single version of Coming in from the Dark was released in both English and te reo.

Her duet the hymn of Whakaaria Mai (How Great Thou Art) with Teeks, who’s also on the album, featured in the National Remembrance Service after the Christchurch massacre. Smith also sings gospel back-up on John Bryce, a song on McGlashan’s new solo album that funkily excoriates the 19th-century politician who ordered the invasion of Parihaka.

So, how did this album of yours get so big?

Good question. It was actually supposed to be really, really stripped back. But in true Hollie Smith fashion, somehow it got really big. But the involvement of the NZSO kind of dictated that to an extent. Obviously, you can’t go small with 70 people. So I wanted strings throughout for continuity and we got the string quartet involved. It was just sort of a jigsaw puzzle … when I finally stuck it all back together, it was f---ing terrible. It was really bad. So I had to kind of dissect it and pull it all back and pull stuff out just to have that breathing space. It was a bit of a cacophony of noise at one point, but we recovered. I think it’s come out really well. I’m really proud of this body of work. I think it’s got some of my best writing.

After Long Player, Humour and the Misfortune of Others and Water or Gold, this is your fourth solo album. Do they act as diaries of those parts of your life?

I don’t think you can simplify that easily. Sometimes you can. When I look back, in hindsight, Long Player not so much but with Humour and the Misfortune of Others, that was a very cathartic album getting through the breakdown [with her short-lived deal with Blue Note records in the US]. So that was definitely a very focused album on those particular emotions and the things that happened around that time. I was pretty mentally unwell after the collapse of that. But with this record, I’ve probably noticed a theme – the relationship aspect of it. It’s hard to objectively look at this one yet.

What’s the relationship aspect you’re talking about?

I don’t want it to be a major feature, but I established a relationship with my late best friend’s husband. So, there were a lot of things to overcome in a lot of different ways and a lot of things were very difficult … just going through a relationship like that when you’re trying to navigate grief and love at the same time. That’s where a couple of those songs stem from. Just finding myself working through the emotions of that situation.

Who’s the “Billy” in the song Billy?

Billy is, was, my first love. We were together for a couple of years when I was about 14 or 15 and I’m really close with this family. We always stayed in contact and Billy and I were always friends after that. I’m good friends with his siblings and I’m really close with his parents. He lost his son in a really horrible accident, then the following year, he was diagnosed with a rare form of lymphoma and not too long after that passed away. His mum rang me the day before he passed. “Okay, well, I’ll be around first thing.” I went straight round and he’d passed away earlier … that song just completely fell out. It was one of those ones where it felt as if I was getting a little bit of help because it all just came really naturally. I wanted to offer something for the funeral. So I recorded it, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to sing it, and it was played at the funeral.

Sorry for asking …

I don’t really like talking about his son so much because, obviously, it’s affected a lot of people. But I think it’s important to mention that because I feel like he just needed to be with his boy and it wasn’t his decision. His body decided for him … as I said in the song “you found home”. So I hope that’s what it felt like to be able to release and go there.

There are angry songs on the album, too – a lyric about “white privilege” leaps out of Damage Done.

When people were pushing Black Lives Matter and #MeToo, there was this defensive response that “all lives matter” and “not all men”. I thought it really distracted from the conversation, which had been long overdue, for both of those issues. I was just really frustrated at people’s reactions … just accepting that you might have been a part of the damage done, which was kind of the premise of that.

The local music industry has certainly been wrangling with #MeToo issues in recent times. Have those issues affected you or your career?

No, but being a female, I think everyone has issues at times. I’ve felt really lucky and looked after, actually. In Wellington, in those early days I had with Trinity Roots and Fat Freddy’s Drop, it was sort of a whānau environment and everyone looked after each other. It wasn’t so industry driven. Once Long Player came out, I had solid management and people around me that I trusted, and I didn’t come across anything like that. But I’m also kind of oblivious to things like that, and I think I probably scare people …

You performed at the National Remembrance Day service in Christchurch with Teeks. What was that experience like?

Pretty surreal, to be honest. It was just a really, really heavy day and just the security measures that were in place – there were full SAS people hiding in trees. Obviously, it was a heavy mood and just so much emotion that I had to switch off as much as possible before I went on because I’m quite terrible with crying in singing. I can’t do it … but I was honoured to be a part of it and, obviously, just wanted to try to offer something of condolence and comfort at such a horrific time.

Well, playing events such as those suggest you’ve acquired the status of national treasure, like a Dave Dobbyn. You’ve been a household name in New Zealand for 15 or so years. How is that from your side? How are you feeling about your career at this stage?

I’m kind of having a midlife crisis. I’m just going, “Well, I didn’t achieve most of the stuff I was going to.” I wanted to be the first Grammy winner from New Zealand, but got pipped by Kimbra and then Lorde, but there were unfortunate circumstances around Long Player time, which changed the trajectory of what I thought I was going to do. I feel incredibly lucky to still be doing music and I guess the anxiety behind releasing this record is just hoping that it gets a good response, and it’s still relevant, and people still enjoy what I do. It’s like “I hope this isn’t it”. By the same token, I’ve had three solo albums and three No 1s and my main goal for this record is, I would love to get another No 1, which I think would be a female record. So, I’m interested to see how this is responded to. I’m hoping it cuts through a lot of the noise. l

Russell Baillie

Smith's dream: Hollie's soul symphony