Interview: Kate Miller-Heidke on ego, antidepressants and her secret weapon
Brisbane-based singer, songwriter and composer Kate Miller-Heidke, 41, on managing ego, getting fired as a teenager, the benefits of antidepressants and her surprising secret weapon.
Brisbane-based singer, songwriter and composer Kate Miller-Heidke, 41, opens up to Andrew McMillen about managing ego, getting fired as a teenager, the benefits of antidepressants and her surprising secret weapon.
Working with my husband Keir Nuttall on Bananaland, our new comedy musical, has been … really beautiful, because in the past, we’ve always had to navigate the fact that my name’s on the poster, and he’s behind the scenes. There’s a power dynamic there that is occasionally tricky; ego gets involved, as it always does with making art. In this case, this show is really Keir’s baby. As the writer, he sits above me in the hierarchy, and the entire thing sprung from his brain. It’s lovely for me to be in a supporting role to him for a change — so now he can feel the pressure. [laughs]
Managing ego in the creative process is … an ongoing learning process. I do think it’s something men struggle with more than women, as a generalisation; women are more accustomed to compromise, and listen to other people. This is not a reference to Keir, this is just something I’ve noticed: I think I’ve been condescended to quite a lot by men through my career. I’ve learned to float above it, and then bitch about it later, I suppose. [laughs]
The first money I ever made was … beyond charging my parents 10c for performances in the lounge room, I worked at a Best & Less in Brisbane, standing under the fluoros in high heels. I was in Grade 10, and I think I got paid $6 an hour. I stood up the back folding manchester all day; they would never let me touch the register. Even back then I had musical commitments that eventually got me fired from every job. I was fired from Best & Less, and from Bakers Delight and that was the end of my traditional working career. I still suck at folding manchester.
The dirty little secret of being a professional musician is … the notion of authenticity is bullshit. The artists I’ve met that market themselves as being “real”, they’re the ones who are the most concerned about their image. The older I get, the more I’m convinced there’s no such thing as “authenticity”. Everybody inhabits a persona, and not just when they make music; even when they go about day-to-day life. What does it mean to be an “authentic” person; an “authentic” artist? I think everything is a construction.
My routine for warming up before a concert is … something I’ve done for over 20 years. I use a straw sort of like a kazoo, and do what’s called Semi Occluded Vocal Tract (SOVT) exercises. They’re soothing and rejuvenating for the voice. My band and I always do a secular prayer before we go on stage: “Dear universe. We are grateful to live our lives through music. Please fill us with the spirit of spontaneity and fun, and help us to connect with each other, and with the audience, and to stay in the moment. Help us and them together to become one body; one big eye; one big ear.”
My relationship with my voice today is … a lot calmer. My kryptonite is stress and anxiety. During Eurovision (in 2019), I was experiencing a phase of paranoia, because the pressure was so great and I put that ridiculous high note in that song (Zero Gravity). The schedule was so gruelling, just having to sing that note over and over, and going, “Oh my god, if I f..k this up, I’ll never recover”. When I came back, I realised I was going to have to sing that song a lot more, and I couldn’t live that way. That’s the thing about singing: outside of the Eurovision bloody Song Contest, it doesn’t matter if it’s not perfect. If the emotion’s there, everything else takes care of itself.
The best deal I ever made was … signing with my management company (One Louder). I talked them into it in 2009. I think it’s made all the difference in my career. I’ve got such brilliant, ethical, visionary management who have always supported me in anything I wanted to do. It’s my secret weapon, for sure.
On my calendar … I’m seeing Death of a Salesman with Anthony LaPaglia soon; I can’t wait to see that. There’s heaps of cool stuff on for Brisbane Festival; I’m hoping I get a chance to see this amazing show called Salamander (from September 1 to 24). I saw the theatre and the set for it, and it looks absolutely stunning. And I’ve got tickets to (US country music band) The Chicks in October; they’ll always be the Dixie Chicks to me.
Not in my life anymore … I spent a long time worrying about how insecure a career in the arts was. I spent way too much emotional energy thinking about “five or 10 years from now”, and money and stability, especially having had a kid (Ernie, now 7). Possibly, antidepressants have helped me stop ruminating over all that shit, and now I just feel this sense of gratitude each day. I know that whatever I can wholeheartedly throw myself into, that will naturally lead to the next thing.
Bananaland runs at Brisbane Festival on September 16 to October 1. Kate Miller-Heidke’s regional tour will begin in Canberra (January 19) and end in Logan, QLD (March 9).
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