Laura Fell, a Psychotherapist by Day, Moonlights as a Songwriter

Laura Fell
INTERVIEW — On her latest EP, At Least I Tried, Fell swoops into new depths of introspection
Words by Eva Stone-Barney | Photography by Erin Veness
ISSUE 14 | ST LEONARDS-ON-SEA | ALT.ITUDE
Is there separation, for Laura Fell, between her work as a psychotherapist and as a songwriter? Based in the cozy coastal town of St Leonards-on-Sea, Fell readily admits that it is hard to say. On her most recent release, At Least I Tried, she acts as both counsellor and patient, interrogating her emotional responses to personal, lived experiences. Informed by her psychotherapy practice, Fell’s musical explorations of what are often universal narratives – break-ups, family dynamics – are imbued with the things she has learned in sessions with her clients, as she invites their perspectives and ideas into conversation with her own. This isn’t deliberate, for Fell, it is just the product of an artist whose work is marked by the multiplicity of her daily life. Fell will release “Outlines”, the first single off of her second album, on March 5 2025.
CANNOPY x Laura Fell

Music & Therapy
CAN | How does your work as a psychotherapist interact with your songcraft?
LF — I think I unavoidably approach songwriting in a way that’s heavily influenced by my identity as a therapist. I want to ask myself the difficult questions, but a lot of the time my songs aren’t about necessarily finding an answer, but instead are about finding a way to be more comfortable in not knowing; being able to stay in that space.
Most of my songs are largely autobiographical and, in that sense, serve as my own therapy in a way. I have also, however, been inspired by themes that I’ve recurrently encountered in my practice alongside my own experiences, and much of my second album will concentrate on the themes of identity and shame.
Part of the privilege of being a therapist is being let into the inner worlds of one’s clients, and that inevitably challenges one’s perspectives and leads you to see things from various angles you might not otherwise. I don’t know how conscious it always is, but I’m sure that’s an influence in the way I approach the topics that my songwriting explores.
The Virtue of Trying
CAN | The title song of your EP—wherein you repeatedly declare “I fucking tried”—is both a personal confessional and something of a brief treatise on the virtue of trying. Where did this song come from and what do you appreciate most about the fact of trying?
LF ─ I wrote the EP’s titular song in the immediate aftermath of a break-up. It was a short lived but very intense and occupying relationship that was ended by the other person in a way that, at the time, felt entirely unexpected. I was left reeling, and the song is largely about that sense of helplessness─trying to respect the boundary of the other person asking for space, and yet overcome by this desperate compulsion to get in touch, and trying everything not to.
In terms of what I appreciate most about trying, what comes to mind is the word “control.” I think the need to feel in control—to feel we can have influence and agency—is universal and lives in all of us, but I think often what’s really happening is the illusion of control. Something I’ve gradually learnt is that we can also find control in accepting our lack of it. This song explores exactly that feeling—being out of control and unable to change the other person’s mind. And ultimately, after all the trying, that’s what I wanted this song to say: at least I tried, but … enough now. It’s not an admission of defeat, but a breathing out and a letting go; a goodbye, knowing I had done all I could.