Berlin-based singer-songwriter Kathi Deakin creates music that feels like a conversation held in the quiet hours of the night. With British-German roots and a childhood steeped in the percussive influence of her father, Deakin’s artistry is defined by a striking duality between the precision of rhythm and the raw, unvarnished vulnerability of folk-inflected indie-pop. This is the throughline of her debut album, Perennial, which explores those fated, inevitable and yet surprising cycles of the human experience. From the weight of loss to the anxiety of love’s uncertainties, there are so many relatable touch stones held within this remarkable record. Reminiscent of deep-thinking songwriters like Daughter and Phoebe Bridgers, these tangible snatches of lived experiences bravely lean into emotional discomfort. With all of this in mind, we wanted to discuss all things love, loss, identity, songwriting and more in this On The Record interview with one-to-watch Kathi Deakin.
Welcome to Unrecorded! For those who aren’t already familiar with Kathi Deakin, can you introduce yourself?
Hi! I’m Kathi Deakin, a Berlin-based independent artist with German and British roots. I make music to explore a wide range of emotions, drawing inspiration from folk and indie pop, with layered harmonies at the core of my sound. I’ve played several shows across Germany and released my debut album, Perennial, in October.
Congratulations on the recent release of your album Perennial! The title suggests something that returns year after year, so how does that connect to you as an individual and as a songwriter?
When I started writing songs for this album, I was finally able to write about the loss of a young family member that I experienced on my seventh birthday. As the album came close to being finished, and I had also written about love and fear, I began to notice a recurring pattern: a sense of panic rooted in the fear of losing someone, and a constant awareness of time passing and everything being finite. Realising this pattern changed my perception of the project. It helped me see more clearly what the album is essentially about — recurring patterns within yourself that shape how you perceive the world, making it feel a certain way because you experience it through that lens. As an artist, you move through these emotions again and again, allowing them to flow through you and transforming them into something tangible and audible.
When you were writing these eleven tracks, what inspired you to opt for discomfort over resolution?
It became clear that sitting with a feeling for a while allowed me to be honest and ask myself questions I wouldn’t have dared to ask outside of these songs. It gave me both a reason and a channel for unconscious processes. And this is what came out.
Music is clearly a family trait as your father, a drummer, taught you the drums and guitar. What’s your favourite memory of this special connection with him?
Playing and singing Sufjan Stevens songs in his room made me understand that there was someone close to me who was able to understand and share my sadness and loneliness to some degree without either of us having to put it into words.
Who or what else has influenced your personal sonic style?
Good movies, people around me and artists like Florence Welch, Bon Iver, Phoebe Bridgers, and Daughter.
Since percussion has been embedded in you from your childhood, do you start songs from rhythms, melodies or does it change on a case by case basis?
I usually write songs by singing and humming over different guitar chords, and sometimes, when I’m lucky, something unlocks and I write a new song altogether — melody, lyrics, and chords at once.
Would you say that your dual identity as a British-German has also influenced your approach to songwriting? And how does that show up in the album?
It might have given me two worlds to draw from. Writing in English may also make it easier for me to be honest and vulnerable, because it’s not the language I overthink in, clutter my mind with, or use when talking with my friends. I love vulnerability — I love when people are authentic and I don’t feel like they’re selling themselves or a constructed version of who they are. I feel like Europe has a strong sense of direct, real connection.
‘Fairy’ is a standout memento of lesbian love and femininity, so how does that celebratory energy sit alongside the darker themes of anxiety and loss found elsewhere on the record?
Experiencing love and admiration is what gives me the strength to want to work through issues, and what makes the struggle and the work worth all the pain. I’ve always felt that there were two souls inside me, trying to build a unit while having completely opposite opinions and attitudes. I might be very lucky to have them both.
The final track ‘Hannah’ rejects the traditional choice of closure or a happy ending, so how does this single function in your opinion?
“Hannah,” to me, is neither a happy nor an unhappy song. It’s a love song that underlines the open ending of the relationship. I felt it was a fitting way to close the album for several reasons.First of all, the album begins with love — something that unlocked all the other feelings and fears that had been buried under numbness before I met Hannah. Secondly, the song once again points to a fixation on doom and darkness, but it’s also meant to show how I find beauty and meaning in something so dangerous and sometimes hurtful — the mermaid, the music.Lastly, the entire album has felt like swimming in deep, beautiful, moving, unpredictable waters. The song reflects how I’m still, in a way, lost at sea — not yet moving on from any of the tides, the pushes and pulls inside me.
Following the release of the album, what will be next on the horizon for you?
I hope to play shows all over Europe next summer. And I am writingnew songs, both on my own and with others. Somethings is coming:)
You can also listen to title-track ‘Perennial’ in our Folk This Way playlist.
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