INTERVIEW: Country/folk beauty on Jenny Mitchell’s new album Forest House: “I’ve got my little piece of the industry, and I can make sure it’s a safe space for everybody”
Words: Emma Driver
Interview: Jett Tattersall
Published: 2 June 2025
Four albums into her career and New Zealand-born country/folk singer Jenny Mitchell is producing songs that are more heartfelt and beautifully crafted than ever. Forest House, released this May, was almost two years in the making, recorded with the help of her family, her touring band, and ARIA-winning producer Matt Fell (Fanny Lumsden, Shane Nicholson, Troy Cassar-Daley). Released in the midst of Mitchell’s tour supporting Kasey Chambers on 30+ dates across Australia, playing theatres grand and intimate, Forest House has arrived just as Mitchell hits a fresh creative peak.
She’s also relocated to Melbourne from across the ditch in New Zealand, so Melbournites can keep their fingers crossed for local shows – at least when Mitchell finally gets off the road later this year and catches her breath. With her own headline tour coming in July, that’s not likely any time soon.
On Forest House, Mitchell’s songwriting is strong and distinctive from start to finish. Opener ‘Little Less Lonely’ sets the tone. As a simply picked guitar frames her voice, Mitchell reaches out into character portraits of everyday people keeping loneliness at bay through simple things. Melodically it’s not fussy or distractingly experimental, but Mitchell finds the heart of the song and gently leads the way: “Ooh, it blows / Lonely’s in the wind / Everywhere you go.”
Country music is in the album’s DNA, but Mitchell happily takes off along its folky fence-lines, or down the country-rock and blues side roads, when it suits the song. ‘Where the Water’s Cold’, the album’s first single, which Mitchell describes as “tongue in cheek”, takes a rolling, bluesy swing at small minds in small towns: “Keep your mouth shut, girl / Wouldn’t want to be too honest,” she sings. It might be tongue in cheek but there’s a menace to lines like “Way down south, they all know your name / Slow to forget and quick to blame” – an feeling that will ring true to many a rural-bred kid.
‘Daffodils’ is a sweet duet with Mitchell’s father Ron, brimming with nostalgia, which Mitchell says is a nod to her close family and happy New Zealand childhood. Family surges up in ‘Sister’ too, released as the album’s third single and featuring Mitchell’s siblings Nicola and Maegen, aka The Mitchell Twins, folk/country artists in their own right. This tribute to fierce sisterly bonds ranges over all the roles a good sister can play: a teacher, a sailor, a farmer – and a soldier, “marching to keep / You safe from the liars, whispers and cheats”. Accordion and a march-like snare drum keep time and add texture, bringing the song a faint Mumford & Sons echo from a distinctly female perspective.
The most fun to be had on Forest House may be ‘No Cash, No Meal (Big Fish)’, co-written with New Zealand singer Tami Neilsen, Mitchell’s friend and regular collaborator. Right from the opening lyric, after a country fiddle has prepared the ground, Mitchell stamps her feistiness all over it: “Complimenting Mum on her blown-out hair / Eating roast lamb in my daddy’s chair / He don’t give it up for a soul / Should’ve known right there you’re arsehole material.” This no-good try-hard is trying to manipulate his way into a girl’s heart, and she’s having none of it: “You’re shakin’ hands, makin’ deals / But I’m off the table, no cash, no meal.” With witty lines and thwacking rhymes stacked on top of each other like the dinner table’s empty plates, Mitchell takes aim at dishonest charmers, and gives us an honest laugh at their expense.
‘Wives Who Wait’ pulls the mood back, with an alt-country colour and a sense of time “tickin’ on”, of something about to happen. With a setting inspired by one of Mitchell’s friends who was struggling through a tough relationship, the song leaves its ending open: we don’t know if she’ll wait it out, or if she’ll leave. But Mitchell doesn’t use the song to judge – as on ‘Where the Water’s Cold’, she seems less interested in prescribing a solution than in prodding the gaps between what we are told to do and what we choose to do.
‘Heart Like a House’, the closing track and latest single, ties up the album and its themes. It’s delicate in tone, unhurried, and bringing together all the imagery of home. An expansive heart is something many of the songs seem to endorse – a wider outlook, a giving of love – to sisters, family, friends, lovers, strangers. Again the track is unfussy, with space for slide guitar, organ, muted horns and subtle backing vocals to breathe. “Welcome arms at the door, a rest from the wars for you” – Forest House might just be the musical equivalent of that homecoming wish.
Not content to simply write and perform in an artist’s bubble, recently Mitchell donated ticket sales from an NZ in-store show to a local women’s refuge organisation. Currently on tour with Kasey Chambers, Mitchell talked with Women In Pop all about her inspirations for the album, and the joy of building a musical community in her very own “corner” of country music.
Jenny, congratulations on Forest House. It’s such a beautiful album, and it’s such a beast – there’s such drive behind it.
I love that you’ve described it as a beast! I’m really into that. But yeah, I recorded it over almost two years and I’ve been working so hard to work out how to give it the best launch into the world. It feels so good to finally have it out! It’s a good week.
So what drew you on the album to focus on experiences that unfold behind closed doors? Because it seems to come from your own stories and from a much wider net of stories as well.
I think I was writing for nothing in particular. ‘Little Less Lonely’ – track one – was actually written in 2019, so there’s some in there that have been rattling around for a while. But when I started bringing a few songs together, probably four or five songs, I had this realisation that these were all somehow connected to a house or being at home. A song like ‘Daffodils’, which is a duet with my dad, is a nod to my childhood. I feel really lucky to have grown up in a super safe and happy house. I love my family – we’ve got a great relationship, and always have. So there’s that side of it.
But then there’s also songs like ‘Wives Who Wait’, which is my observation of a particular friend, but also just friends in general who have been stuck in really hard relationships. I feel like it happens more as I get older – I realise, “Oh, you’re such an awesome person. How has this happened? And how do we get you out of that?”
So the idea of the house is that sometimes it’s nostalgic and lovely, and then there’s other people’s lives, and in their homes it’s not like that. Once I got that idea, I really enjoyed digging into it and thinking a lot about what home means to different people.
There’s a real mix here, sonically. You mention ‘Little Less Lonely’ – it has that gorgeous, very country feel to it. In the lyric, one of the characters you’re singing about is a queer woman and her experience, which, let’s face it, country music hasn’t always been the best place to do. Do you feel that maybe country music now is finally making a space for more diverse identities and experiences?
I hope so. I think so … and then something will happen, and I’m so disappointed. So I don’t know. It depends, unfortunately, which comment section you’re in on the internet, which is always the way – there’s always extremes. I’ve struggled with this a lot, the idea that especially in an American context, the amount of queer people that are played on radio is basically non-existent, and the amount of people of colour that are played on country radio is also basically non-existent. I’ve wrestled a lot with how I feel about associating with that. I feel so connected to that industry.
I guess what I’ve settled on is that I’ve got my little piece of the industry, my little piece of the world, and I can do everything possible to make sure that it’s a safe space for everybody in my little corner. And I actually can’t do anything about the comment section of something [on the internet]. I love country music, but I also am really influenced by folk music and different kinds of things. So I’d like to think of it as just music. And I think in Australian country music, I have seen spaces for queer people, and that’s really awesome. So I just hope that it gets better. It’s going in the right direction, I hope.
That’s a good way of looking at it – it’s really about what you can do in your own sphere. By making that song, it actually does a lot. It feels like a small sphere, but it’s actually a really big one with an amazing ripple. Also, it’s a killer track …
[There are] people from small towns who don’t have a lot of interaction with the concept of what the queer community is, and that’s where I came from – that’s where I grew up. So I think that’s why it’s also really important to me, because I grew up in a space that wasn’t so familiar with it, with those kinds of ideas. I’ve had people say to me, “I love ‘Little Less Lonely’,” and I don’t think that they have quite listened to the lyric, and I think they maybe wouldn’t align with it. But I kind of love that there’s a few songs that can be taken in different ways – like ‘Wives Who Wait’. I hope that people know that I’m not actually saying that wives should wait.
‘Where the Water’s Cold’ is all tongue-in-cheek: “You and your alibi better be straight” in this town that I’m talking about – of course, I don’t actually mean that, but you can’t control what people take from it. But I’ve enjoyed playing with that a little bit. I know what it means, and I think a lot of my audience understands what it means. Hopefully it will make people think, in some kind of way.
What albums or songs have possibly done the same for you growing up – that have made you think? Do you feel music has a particular power to create not just awareness, but a tangible change in society?
Yeah, I obviously believe in the power of music, and I think it does change [people]. An example of someone that 100 per cent did change my thinking is my friend and collaborator on this album, Tami Neilsen. I wrote a couple of songs with her, she’s New Zealand–based. She released an album when I was at university called Sassafras, and it was all about equality, wrapped in this really fun soul-country music. And it actually changed my brain – it changed how I thought about things. I wrote papers on it at university, because I was so obsessed with it. And you know, she’s been singing those songs in New Zealand forever, and that’s had a huge impact on me. She’s an inspiration.
You’re donating 100 per cent of your ticket sales from your New Zealand in-store shows to Women’s Refuge in New Zealand, which is just next level. What inspired you to connect this album so very directly with social impact?
I’ve always wanted to find ways to make my music give back. And I think I’ve sometimes been a bit intimidated by big artists giving $5 million or whatever, and obviously I can’t do that, but I can do something small. As I was referencing before, I was thinking about how I’m really lucky to have grown up in the house I did, but not everyone does. I was particularly inspired by ‘Wives Who Wait’ and the person behind that song. I think people just have no idea how huge the need for women’s refuges is – in their own towns.
One of my mum’s best friends, she passed away about ten years ago now, worked for Women’s Refuge. Her name was Cathy, and she was one of the people who in the middle of the night was on call. So we would be hanging out, having dinner together, and she would have to leave and pick up these women and children and take them to a safe house. And so I grew up knowing that Cathy did that, and that other amazing people in the community did that as well, so I was a little bit more aware of it. Women’s Refuge in New Zealand have a Safe Night program, and it only costs $20 to get one night for a woman and her children to be safe, to have food and to have proper security as well if they are in danger. That’s just the most important thing in the world. I feel so passionate about giving back directly to where you live … it just makes me cry.
You’re making me cry. Sometimes numbers get so big you can’t see them, but $20 for one family, one night, and times that by the people who buy tickets to your in-store – that’s immediate.
That’s right, and all those tickets are going to go to the Safe Night program.
So, as we mentioned earlier, there are different sonic choices on Forest House. There’s some soul, there’s some jazz, folk and some country obviously. Was that intentional, or was it more the environment and collaborators that just led you there as the songs progressed?
Yeah, that’s a good question. Artists like Brandi Carlile have really inspired me a lot. She is country, or Americana, but has dabbled in lots of different [genres]. Norah Jones has been a really big inspiration to me, and she does everything amazingly. So I’ve always been keen to try different things. One thing I really wanted to do with this album was introduce some horns, which are scattered throughout.
But I do think there was a special feeling with my collaborators – they trusted what I was up to, and I trusted what they were doing, and no one was scared to throw ideas out there. We recorded in a house in New Zealand, and I took my New Zealand band that I’ve been touring with for a few years there. My producer, Matt, flew from Tasmania – this is my third album with him. I’ve been in situations where you are a bit nervous, or there’s ego stuff going on, and I feel like we just didn’t have any of that. So I’m lucky that I’ve got awesome people around me that are keen to say, “Yeah, sure, we’ll put a horn in this little country song,” or whatever!
I know you’ve often blended personal storytelling with broader themes, and this album is no exception. Where do you draw that line, I guess, between what’s one of your memories, or something you hold close, and what’s too private to share? And is that when the storyteller takes over?
Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. I think I probably lean just on the honesty, on the “tell the story” side. ‘Square & Plain’, for example, is a heartbreak song, and it was definitely a real-life thing that happened, written right in the guts of that happening to me. And now I couldn’t be further from that scenario. What you said about letting the storyteller take over – a few years ago, when I would sing something like that, I would afterwards feel really sad, and it would impact me in a negative way. Whereas now I think it’s just life – you can’t always be singing happy songs, and you can’t always be having happy things happen. So I love leaning into that and thinking about it in a different way. I don’t have to be really heartbroken again because I’ve remembered that person or that thing.
Honestly, my heart and my thoughts and everything are usually on my sleeve, as they say. Often I will finish a show and think, “Oh, probably shouldn’t tell them that story!” But I’m not much of a small-talker. I just go straight to what’s going on and how I’m feeling. So I think that’s what my music is.
You gotta have that as your new tagline: “Jenny Mitchell, Oversharer”.
Big time, yeah!
So Forest House is a collection of stories of safe spaces, of vulnerability and even leaning in and listening, taking a moment for other people. I’m curious: what does the term “safe house” mean to you, and has that definition possibly changed over time?
To me, a safe house is a house full of people – people that you can trust and that you can be yourself around. I’m about to go home to my hometown tomorrow. I’m playing a hometown show this weekend, and I’ve always had a house just filled with not only my family, but with random [people], and Mum’s friends popping in all the time. I think that’s probably Jenny’s safe house: it’s just people.
And lastly, Jenny, apart from having beautiful shows and releasing a new album and doing all these wonderful things within your sphere, what else is coming up for you?
I actually just have a year of shows. I don’t think I’ve got a weekend off until Christmas, and I love it! A couple of days ago I did the 20th show with Kasey Chambers of 32 dates around Australia. And I’m going to do the Australian tour, and I am then going to do some New Zealand dates as well. So this feels like a year I’ve been waiting for for a long time. I just moved to Melbourne and I’m loving it. So I’m really looking forward to getting to know Melbourne a little bit more. I’ve done some pretty serious op shopping so far. Looking forward to finding some moments to just slow down a little bit and explore the city. I’m just being a tourist around Australia – we were just in Western Australia and there were camels. It was crazy. I’m loving exploring, and excited to get into this chapter here in Melbourne.
It is always, honestly, so lovely to speak to you, Jenny. Congratulations, and I really hope you enjoy all of the camels and all of the touring and everything you do.
Thank you so much, and thanks for your great questions!
Jenny Mitchell’s album Forest House is out now. You can buy and stream here.
Follow Jenny Mitchell on her website, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and TikTok
The Forest House Tour
12 July The Street Theatre, Canberra, ACT
13 July Little Alberts, Bathurst, NSW
17 July Memo Music Hall, Melbourne, VIC
19 July The Candle & Quill Bookshop, Montville, QLD
20 July The Brightside, Brisbane, QLD
24 July The Vanguard, Sydney, NSW
26 July The Savoy Bar and Music, Long Jetty, NSW
27 July The Stag & Hunter, Newcastle, NSW
28 – 31 August Gympie Music Muster, QLD
