Notably, this seventh record marks the first time Henson has handed the reins of the artwork to another person. He stops, picks up a copy of the record from his desk, and proudly holds it up. “I think it took someone else to bring that version of me to life,” he muses. “Tristan [Pigott]The work on seems super glossy, but it’s also what I wanted and felt it was a record. Pausing again, he grinned and reached for his palm-sized dog-shaped salt shaker. Eyes with faded paint stared blankly into the distance. “I feel the last record. monument, I know it’s silly, but I was so happy with that album cover that I don’t know where to go from here. We have reached our peak! ” he stops monument‘s cover star sits cautiously on the arm of a chair and smiles.
As the conversation continues, the songwriter finds himself frequently returning to parallels between his life and the life he has now. “I’ve always felt writing about the complexity and pain of being an artist or a professional musician and what this job does. [is] It can be a bit selfish and an irrelevant subject,” he says.
In pursuing the story of a pop star in this body of work, Henson has plenty of time to ponder the foundations of celebrity. For him, it all comes down to the ability to empathize, which he has been actively trying to avoid. “As a species, we feel like we’ve always needed substance above us,” he explains. We want to feel that we have someone above us and that we are in a relationship with them.