As Natalie McCool prepares to release her third album, Good For The Soul, she is embracing every contradiction that comes with growing up. Joy and uncertainty. Freedom and responsibility. Light and shadow. Across an album that moves effortlessly between euphoric alt-pop and darker, more experimental terrain, McCool explores what it truly means to come to know yourself, discovering that even life’s most difficult moments can become the experiences that shape us into stronger, more complete versions of ourselves.
That emotional duality reaches a striking new peak on her latest single, “So Lonely, Lonely,” featuring Manchester rapper Renee Stormz. Driven by distorted electronics, pounding rhythms and an urgent sense of unease, the track confronts one of modern life’s greatest paradoxes: never before have we been so connected, yet so profoundly alone. While technology offers constant communication, McCool questions what has been lost in the process, longing for the kind of real-world communities where neighbours know one another, conversations happen naturally and music is experienced through shared moments rather than phone screens.
The song perfectly reflects the wider themes running throughout Good For The Soul. Rather than offering easy optimism, McCool invites listeners to embrace every chapter of their lives, recognising that growth often comes through discomfort. Having written, produced and recorded much of the album herself, she has transformed years of personal reflection into her most ambitious and uncompromising work to date, balancing infectious pop hooks with fearless emotional honesty.
In conversation with House of Solo, Natalie McCool reflects on the journey behind Good For The Soul, learning to trust her instincts as a producer, the transformative impact of Liverpool’s creative community, and why genuine human connection has become more important than ever in an increasingly digital world. It is a conversation about finding peace with every version of yourself and discovering that the deepest growth often comes from embracing both the light and the darkness within.
Good for the Soul feels like a record about adulthood in all its contradictions. What made you want to write an album that holds joy, despair, exhilaration and darkness in the same space?
I think the record is ultimately about coming to know yourself, and the journey from youth into adulthood is a big part of that, and also coming face to face with all the darker parts of yourself. So that’s where the record’s duality comes into play – and also why the album is called Good for the Soul – this idea of knowing oneself and feeling more at peace because of that.
You have described the album as being about how every experience shapes you, even the difficult ones. Was there a particular moment in your life that made that idea feel especially urgent?
Yes, I have definitely had some really trying times, more internally speaking than externally, and I think that’s the real catalyst for some of these songs. There’s a track on the album called Into A Diamond written from the POV of the harsh critic’s voice that lives inside my head (everyone has one) and how you are always your own worst critic – but this in fact makes you stronger because it means whatever anyone else says to you is never going to be as bad as what you say to yourself – so looking at this critic as something which shaped you into something strong and striking, in an almost caring, loving sense. A lot of the album is coming to terms with these shadows within ourselves that shape us, along with the brighter parts.
We’re the Ones captures that beautiful point between youthful freedom and the realities of growing older. What were you trying to preserve emotionally in that song?
To me, Coming of Age (my previous single) and We’re the Ones are almost like two sides of the same coin – Coming of Age looks back at the chapters of life and makes peace with the journey, while We’re the Ones looks forward from youth into the future responsibilities. So I think We’re the Ones is definitely rooted in the exhilaration, joy of the moment, and holding onto this sense of freedom and wanderlust even well into adulthood, which is something very important to me.
The lyric about “taxes and menopause” brings humour and honesty into a euphoric pop moment. How important is it for you to write about adulthood without romanticising it?
Some of my favourite songwriters, like Amy Winehouse and Alex Turner, use humour to drive a point; I think that can even amplify the romanticism sometimes – and I think humour also really speaks to the listener and can alleviate the heaviness in a song. Adulthood in itself can be really unromantic! But I guess that’s the point of the song – holding onto those moments of magic that come so easily in youth, and still being curious – even when life is life-ing.
You wrote, produced, recorded and mixed much of this album yourself. What did taking that level of creative control allow you to express that you might not have reached otherwise?
I think I’ve always had the good ideas it takes to produce but not the technical know-how, so I took a year out to learn production and shadow producers in the studio, asking loads of questions and basically just watching them work. One of the producers I shadowed was actually Andy Hall, who added mix and additional production to the record!
When you write a song and someone else produces it, the stakes are not so high in a way, but when you’ve done it all yourself – it’s very scary and exhilarating to put that out into the world. But yes – it’s amazing to have the level of creative control it gives you.
It was so beneficial for me; it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop working with other producers, as sometimes I think you need the additional ear and elevation – but producing most of the album was an incredible journey, and it really pushed me outside of my limits.
You’ve said that you can imagine exactly how a track should sound while you’re writing it. When did you realise production had to become part of your language as an artist?
It always has been to be honest – like I mentioned, the ideas have always been there – just not the technical knowledge, which I’ve now learned. When I write a song, it’s more that I know exactly the feeling or mood that needs to be there in the production. I still write songs on guitar and sometimes piano, sometimes I’ll write to a beat or bass line; it really depends. The production is always somewhere in my mind when I’m actually writing, for sure. I tend to be quite chronological about it – the writing is always the first part, with an idea for the production, then I’ll start producing it. Sometimes the production will inform a section or I’ll rewrite a section depending on where the production is going. It’s a really fun process!
Good for the Soul moves from a brighter, pop-driven first half into a darker, moodier second half. Did you always know the album would have that emotional arc?
Yes, in a sense because of the songs I was writing – it was pretty evenly split between really high-energy, positive, euphoric leaning songs, and then the flip side – darker more atmospheric songs, more experimental production. The second half goes deep! It explores the deeper side, not necessarily darker – but definitely deeper. I think that’s how I wanted to represent this record – starting off lighter, brighter, and diving deeper down to where all the good stuff is! I compare it to relationships you have with other people (and yourself) – first you get to know them, there is a certain high and a chemistry there – then you dive down into the deeper parts and that’s where you really get into it.
Coming of Age features Trans Voices and speaks to the joy of finding yourself. What did their voices bring to the track that changed or deepened its meaning for you?
When Dan Haggis and I wrote the track, we came up with such strong harmonies on the chorus that I immediately knew I had to involve more vocal layers! My friend ilā set up London Contemporary Voices who I actually also sing in – and she set up Trans Voices too. So I spoke to her about involving singers from both choirs and she loved the idea – so we made it happen.
For me, Coming of Age ultimately is about seeing life as a journey where you get to know yourself and feel more at peace with yourself, and there is no age at which you arrive at this – you are constantly evolving as you go – and I think everyone can take a slightly different meaning from that based on their own lived experience.
You’ve spoken about the excitement of recording those harmonies on a hot August day in Hackney. Do you think the energy of a recording session can stay inside a song?
Absolutely! When I listen to the record, I can hear the joy and how much fun we had in the studio recording – it was such a brilliant day and one I won’t forget. It was my friend Paul’s studio and I just felt so surrounded by friends and lovely people; it was such a warm feeling. You can hear this energy and warmth inside the song, 100%.
Welcome to Eurotopia sounds like a huge turning point for you creatively. How did performing and co-curating something on that scale change the way you viewed your own ambition?
The show was definitely the biggest project I’ve done and definitely pushed me to see things differently – to dream bigger and imagine exactly what I could do if I just stepped outside my box a little bit. It also opened me up to different ways of arranging and looking at a live show that I’d never thought about before – e.g., arranging my songs for strings and brass, looking at how other artists could fit into the frame, even choreography and visuals. It was such an exciting show.
After that experience, you felt drawn to invite more artists into your world. What did collaboration give you on this album that solitude could not?
I’d never really thought about inviting other artists into my world so much before – but the collaborative aspect of the show really inspired me to have the confidence to do this. For me, it is about confidence and self-assurance, and not ego – I suppose I never felt fully confident about sending my work to other artists – and even with this album, I was worried that people might just say no to collaboration – but to my surprise almost everyone I wanted to feature on the record said yes and loved the tracks! Just goes to show you should always be your own biggest champion.
So Lonely, Lonely questions the difference between online connection and real community. As an artist, how do you navigate that tension between needing digital platforms and wanting something more human?
I’ve been thinking about this so much recently. One of the biggest ways to get discovered and build an audience now is through shareable content on social media – and not necessarily using your music – which I find really strange. It’s almost like artists have to use their lifestyle and humour to be discovered online.
I do this to some extent but lately I’ve been thinking much more about real-world connections, living in the real world and not trying to exist so much online. For me that means personally inviting people to shows, reaching out about things that are going on, booking lots more shows, going to more events – meeting more people in a social context but also musically. We have to have community in real life, otherwise – what else do we have?
You speak beautifully about Liverpool as a city with creativity “in its bones”. How has Liverpool shaped not just your career, but the emotional texture of your music?
It’s shaped so much for me. I went to a performing arts school in Liverpool (LIPA) where I met so many great musicians and songwriters, who I still call friends and work with, even today. I lived in the city for many years after graduating and there is a very strong sense of community and support, it’s quite a small city but so creative, so many amazing artists and bands doing interesting projects – while working together, playing in each other’s bands, recording each other, sharing the stage and studio. It’s an amazing place.
Your father’s guitar playing and early memories of songs like Fairground seem to have had a deep effect on you. Do you still chase that almost physical feeling music gave you as a child?
Definitely! We’re the Ones was actually written with the feeling in mind that Fairground gave me when I first heard it – the sense of life, wanderlust, travel and adventure. New experiences. I do think that music can give us very physical feelings. I always look for those when I’m writing a song – if I have it then I know it’s good.
You’ve said one of the joys of being an artist is “breaking the cage”. At this stage in your career, what cage are you most interested in breaking next?
There are a few things. Choreography is one of them. I have some plans for a future music video for one of the songs from the album. You’ll have to watch this space!
