British rising singer-songwriter Saskia always backs the underdog. But her second EP, “Wearing All White Like An Angel”, is anything but.
“My motivation for everything I do musically has always come from the way I consume music,” says Saskia. The 25-year-old singer-songwriter sits opposite me in a cosy meeting room in Black Butter Records, shoes kicked off (having politely asked first), explaining the gratitude she feels to artists like Norah Jones. She tells me how music has been a real “lifesaver” for her in difficult times – though not literally, she is quick to add, eyes widening beneath her camo cap – and dreams of making music that will bring others equal comfort.
Her approach to making music feels instinctual. Saskia rarely makes eye contact with the audience when performing online or on stage, creating this inner-world-like atmosphere that is both impenetrable yet fascinating to audiences.
While musicians like Jones and James Blake have been of great creative influence, the Devon-born artist’s parents are key characters in Saskia’s performance story. She would play alongside them at pubs and local festivals growing up and credits these experiences with giving her the “confidence to go on stage.”
With a growing catalogue of music to her name, including 2025’s debut EP “The Noise” 2025 and the freshly released collaboration with Bicep on the new single “Viper”, the singer-songwriter is returning with her second EP, “Wearing All White Like An Angel”, out 9th October, via Black Butter Records. The EP offers up 20 minutes of goosebump-inducing listening that blends ethereal soundscapes with breathy harmonies and leaves you both introspective and confused. It reflects a period of change in which the artist experienced a newfound indecisiveness and a shift in creative process, where songs no longer emerged in this flow-like state, and the essence of what she wanted to say was something she couldn’t quite place. “I was just writing words, and I couldn’t make sense of them.”
What emerged from her subconscious were articulate and fantastical ramblings that pushed the artist to focus not on the ‘what’ but the ‘why’. In the title track, we hear of the unwavering love attached to being truly seen, and in “saysomething (bite)”, we are warned of the looping tricks the mind can play. The EP is a lesson in waiting, not searching for quick fixes deep in emotional throes.
Throughout our conversation, Saskia pulls me into her sentimental orbit as we talk about premonitions of angels that became the title track, her longing to be in a different generation and nostalgia for the 2010s version of TikTok: Apple’s own dance app, Video Star – the real origin story for any Gen Z star today.
Listen to the EP…
Read the interview…
How are you feeling about the release of “Wearing All White Like An Angel”?
It’s a project that shows a slightly different side of my writing, so I’m excited to have that out in the world. As someone who studied songwriting, I’ve learned all the ways you’re meant to do things. This record is a bit all over the place. There’s no tuning really on any of the songs, and the structures are a bit weird. Making it in a slightly more unconventional way was kinda tricky for me to get my head around. But now I’m like, it makes so much sense because that’s the most natural way. All the imperfections are there. As a listener, I tend to enjoy the underdog song and the hidden parts of a project, and I find that in my own music as well.
The line: “I can see your halo after all the mess in my mind” from the title track is such a standout lyric from the EP. Can you talk about the process of writing that?
Weirdly, that was actually a lyric I wrote on my own, separately from the rest of the song. Then, when we started building out the rest of “Wearing White Like An Angel”, I slotted it in because I felt that it reflected what I was trying to say in the main song. At one point it was about my partner, and then I ended up somewhat writing it about a family member. I was sort of picturing this person standing by the window and flickering in the light. I almost can’t make out whether they’re real, or whether they’re an angel, or whether they’re a figment of my imagination. And the more I thought about that, I realised it was a reflection of how your perception of people can ebb and flow and change. It was also a reflection of the stages of life, and death, and everything in between.
You grew up watching your parents perform in pubs and at festivals. How did that influence you as an artist?
When I was a teenager, I was so embarrassed about it. But the older I’ve got, the more I’ve started to admire the complete willingness to get up on stage and be nothing but yourself. I sometimes find it quite hard not to care what people think. Most of my confidence comes from when I’m performing, when there’s silence in the room, when I can feel that everyone is engaged or still for a moment. I don’t want to say I want people’s attention; it’s more like, ‘Okay, these people are here listening, accepting me for who I am.’ I’ve always seen performing as a shared experience. My dream is to be in the round with my piano and have everyone just standing next to me, sharing the moment.
In the “saysomething (bite)” video and your TikToks in general, you always seem to avoid making eye contact with the camera. Is that a conscious decision?
That’s something I’ve thought about ever since I started putting videos online. Similarly to the live format, I’ve always wanted people to feel like they’ve walked into a room where I’m just playing my piano. There is a certain directness that comes with looking at the camera that can be super affected. I’m not trying to clickbait anyone into listening to my music. I don’t want it to be about the way I look; I just want it to be about the music.
You grew up in the era where the internet cover reigned supreme, with huge artists like Justin Bieber and Troye Sivan kickstarting their careers from posting covers of songs online. How do you think this shaped your identity as an artist?
I often find myself wishing that I were in a different generation. At heart, I’m just a musician, someone who enjoys making and listening to music. I have struggled with the whole posting online, and, you know, all the other hats you sometimes have to wear. I kinda just wish I was Janice Joplin, screaming at people with my guitar, or that I could have been friends with Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe. I loved reading Just Kids and hearing about all the art from that time. Life was not always easy back then, but it also sounds so free.
What was the first cover you ever made?
I used to love Video Star, so my best friend and I definitely would have made some form of video, with me holding the camera, to “Tik Tok” by Kesha or “Baby You’re So Classic”, wearing those nerd T-shirts and fluorescent glasses.
Your music seems to consistently blend emotional intimacy with a kind of distance and restraint. How would you explain that?
I am a person of contradictions. I feel quite extreme emotions. I’m always at one end of the scale or the other. At the moment, it’s manifesting as indecision, which is slightly unusual for me. Some of the songs on the EP are a representation of this too. In my first project, I generally wrote about situations with other people – relationship dynamics, heartbreak, love – and this one is more about my perception of things and my relationship with myself. My instinct is to be like, ‘If something’s tricky, I’m obviously not good at that.’ But both therapy and music have taught me that not everything is meant to be easy, and sometimes it’s the things you find the hardest that are the most worthwhile in the end.
What can we expect from you next?
Definitely another project, which I’ve actually already started working on. I’ll also be doing a headline show in November and some live performance videos of songs from the EP. I think they’re really going to reflect the message of the EP. When I was writing it, this is how I visualised it.
So we’re going to see that angel?
Yes!
Words – Hattie Birchinall
