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WORDS MAISIE JANE DANIELS - PHOTOGRAPHY AMY LAUFFER NEFF - STYLING THE DECK
Marie Naffah's deep love for poetry ignited her journey as a singer-songwriter. At just twenty-one, she was already making waves, earning recognition as MTV's Unsigned Artist of the Year. This pivotal moment drove her to fully embrace the music industry, donning a pantsuit and diving in headfirst. With her distinctive voice and remarkable gift for words, Marie has the ability to transport listeners into her world, weaving poignant poetry with heartfelt music. Even reading this interview feels like embarking on a poetic journey. If I were a blank book, I’d want Marie to fill me with ink.
F Word had the pleasure of catching up with Marie just before she embarks on her UK tour. In this conversation, we discuss the creation of her deeply honest and powerful new album Mother of Pearl, which explores themes ranging from romantic, platonic, and parental love to self-love. Marie also shares her thoughts on why music is a gift and what her devoted fans mean to her—and much more.
Maisie Daniels: Hey Marie, welcome to F Word Magazine! How are you feeling today?
Marie Naffah: Thank you for having me! I’m doing well thanks - currently prepping for my UK tour, which I’m very excited about.
MD: Your singing voice is so beautifully distinct! When did you first realise you had this gift, and at what point did you decide to pursue a career in music?
MN: Thank you! Singing was something I dabbled in at school, but I really fell in love with songwriting around fourteen, after a friend casually told me to give it a try. The early songs? Oh, they were pretty terrible, but something about it grabbed me—this raw, unpolished way to pour yourself out onto a page. Then, when I hit eighteen, I fell head over heels for the London music scene, playing gigs anywhere that would have me, chasing that feeling and that horrible wine. At twenty-one, I won MTV’s Unsigned Artist of the Year, and I suppose that’s when I considered it in a more professional context. That moment taught me a lot about finding out who I really was as an artist. It was a long road, but I learned that if you want to stay true to yourself, you’ve got to roll up your sleeves, put in the time, and surround yourself with the right people. It’s a lot of sweat and hard work, but that’s where the real satisfaction comes from.
MD: Your lyricism is incredibly poetic- you’re such a wonderful storyteller, and I can really picture the scenes in your songs. Have you always had this poetic streak, or is it something you’ve developed over time?
MN: Oh, that’s such a compliment! I’ve always wanted my songs to be more than just melodies—I hope they can be seen, heard, and felt all at once. I probably came to songwriting through my love of poetry. When I was about seven, I confidently declared to my teacher that I wanted to be a poet. Don’t get me wrong; like any kid, I was fickle enough to go through several strange occupational dreams, including being a bus driver, hairdresser, and ventriloquist. But I think when the seven-year-old me chose "poet," I was already enchanted by the idea of words and what they could do. I had an aspirational image of a sort of Beatrix Potter-esque scene of sitting at a wooden desk with a lit candle, pen in hand, wishing to just look at things and scribble them down. I still hold onto that image— and not just because I would have been a terrible ventriloquist. I still read a lot of poetry—I love that you can save a page for a friend, scribbling in the margin or underlining a description. A quick poem before bed or in the morning…poetry holds such magic in its duality—its privacy and share ability. A bit like a song, really.
MD: Your new album, Mother of Pearl, feels deeply personal and introspective. How did you approach writing something so honest and vulnerable?
MN: Honesty was the backbone of this album. It’s easy to hide in songs—slip into a metaphor, get a little cool, a little vague. There’s comfort in keeping things at arm’s length, in dressing them up with cleverness. But I kept asking myself: What’s the real thing you want to say? And when I didn’t ask, producer Robin (Breeze) —my friend, co-writer, and co-pilot—would. Before I even picked up an instrument, I’d spent a year writing streams of consciousness, gathering moments, scribbling down details, letting the small things sink in, as they do when you’re really paying attention. A year of living, noticing how life settles into your bones, and how you respond to it. Creative success is hard to measure, but for me, it comes down to one question: Did you say what you wanted to say? If the answer is yes, then you’ve already won.
MD: You’ve said that “love pours out of this album,” covering romantic, platonic, parental, and self-love. How do you navigate love’s complexities- especially when dealing with tougher themes like grief or self-doubt in your songwriting?
MN: I try not to think too much in the beginning—sometimes the best songs are the ones where the words tumble out of you before you even know what you're saying. And when you’ve lived through something as vast and relentless as grief, it’s nearly impossible to dance around it when you’re making something. It seeps into everything, doesn’t it? You have to let it come, because it will anyway in some shape or form. One of my hopes for this album was to be brave, knowing that every feeling on this record has been and will be felt by someone else.
MD: The title track is a tribute to your mother and the concept of unconditional love. How has your relationship with her influenced not just this song, but your approach to the entire album?
MN: I decided to make this record after a phone call with my mother on my 30th birthday. I told her, ‘I’m so very happy,’ and even as I said it, I was struck by how rare, how strange it is to declare happiness out loud, like it’s naïve to do so. The moment I hung up, the past year flashed before me—a blur of fierce love, sharp-edged grief, gnawing angst, and all the messy, quiet, beautiful bits in between. It wasn’t a straight line, more like a tangled reel of emotions that somehow made sense. ‘Mother of Pearl’ was the first song I wrote for the album. I’d read that to combat writer’s block, you should make gifts for people. I spotted a Paul Simon CD that reminded me of her, of that call—and the song just flowed. My mum is a true champion of words—one of the best writers I know. I'll never ever forget the day I gave her this song.
MD: You’ve drawn inspiration from some of the greats like Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and Bruce Springsteen, all known for their lyricism and storytelling. How have their influences shaped Mother of Pearl and your overall songwriting approach?
MN: Ah, yes, the heroes! I find myself perpetually leaning on Dylan and Joni, like a lot of modern songwriters do. Their songs are like doorways, inviting you to step into a scene that feels almost tangible, where you can breathe in the atmosphere and experience their characters. We (Producers Robin, Adam (Bowers) & I) listened to a lot of Springsteen making the record too, trying to capture that raw, band energy in our own work. It mattered deeply to me that we honour that live, organic and classic spirit, with a bit of a modern twist.
MD: Gloria is such a beautiful love song, dedicated to the epic romance of female friendships. (I’m not crying, you are!) Female friendships are so special. How have these relationships impacted your music?
MN: I’m so glad you think so! Being a songwriter feels like an invitation to an endless exercise in awe. In a world that spins like a top, where we rush from task to task, there’s something sacred about taking a moment to put pen to paper and really ponder what inspires you—whether it’s the grand or the minuscule.
'Gloria' is a song that holds a special place in my heart as it's dedicated to my best friend. We've known each other since our school days; she stood by my side as Maid of Honour at my wedding and together we've weathered life's ups and downs. I wanted to create a song that was elegant, powerful, and soaring, capturing the overflowing love one can have for a best friend.
The title is inspired by Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.” I wrote it about those days when you feel like crap, but then your best friend shows up, pours you a drink, wraps a feather boa around your waist and tells you you’re great before reassuringly reminding you that tomorrow is another day. I’ve loved watching best friends across the globe connect with it. And yes, these relationships inspire me endlessly. I’m very lucky.
MD: In Family Man, you reflect on how people evolve over time. Do you find that songwriting allows you to explore your own personal growth?
MN: I loved writing “Family Man”. I loved the challenge of using small images to hint at someone’s transformation. Lines like “saw you drink sparkling water now” and “you were such a family man” evoke that bittersweet tug of nostalgia, a whisper of a past version of someone you used to know. Many songs draw from personal experiences, but there’s something wonderfully liberating about weaving fiction into songwriting too. Anything can happen in a song. Either way, each track becomes a little bottle of memory, a glug of emotion that I can revisit, drinking in a feeling that I might otherwise have forgotten.
MD: Recording at The Boathouse Studio sounds like an amazing, immersive experience. How did spending a whole month in one place influence the sound and feel of the album?
MN: I’m not alone in saying that The Boathouse Studio is one of the most magical places in the world. Recording an album there with producers Robin (Breeze) and Adam (Bowers) for an uninterrupted month, was the greatest privilege. I’ll never quite get over the fact that we had that chance.
For four weeks, it was just me and those two. We lost ourselves in the world of this album, breathing it in like the freshest air. Everything else faded into the background; the outside world felt distant and hazy. It was all about the music, the in-between moments, and the connection—like we were suspended in time, crafting something that felt alive, electric, and utterly real. Days weren’t book-ended by mornings or nights meaning we were so free with our time. There was so much room for experimentation, for critique and for boundless creativity. It was one of the greatest months of my life and still talking about it today makes my heart explode.
MD: You turned 30 while working on this album, a milestone that often brings reflection. How did entering this new decade impact the themes and emotions in Mother of Pearl?
MN: I think I felt more of an urge to tackle ‘grown-up’ themes in this album. To try and engage with the more nuanced emotions that come up for people in their thirties. Whether that’s different facets of love, grief, or self discovery.
MD: You’ve spoken about pearls as being naturally imperfect yet beautiful. How has embracing imperfection shaped not just this album, but your overall journey as an artist?
MN: “Stay in your lane” is the best advice I’ve ever received. A creative career is a wild, imperfect ride—full of twists and turns that don’t always make sense. So, whilst focussing on staying curious, nurturing my creativity and finding community, I’m trying to make career goals that feel satisfying to me. I’ve learned to surround myself with people who lift me up, who teach me new things, and who accept my strengths while gently guiding me through my weaknesses. I am lucky to feel incredibly understood by the people I work with.
MD: You’re about to head out on a UK tour, with your biggest show yet at Earth Theatre in Hackney on October 19th - such a great venue! How are you feeling about performing this new material live, and what do you hope your audience will take away from the experience?
MN: I’m really excited! I want the audience to feel like they’re part of something bigger than just an indie show where everyone’s sipping craft beer and pretending not to notice each other. I really look at my London crowd from the stage and am beginning to know nearly every individual now. It’s wonderful. My hope is that this concert becomes a celebration of everything that makes us pay attention, love deeply, and feel gloriously alive, and that we’ll all be bundled together on that Autumn night, swaying, laughing and crying for the love of something that is greater than the sum of our parts. Get involved!
MD: You’ve said that creating meaningful connections with your fans is really important to you. How do you go about forming those connections, especially in a live setting?
MN: My fans are the most constant presence in all my years of making music. Opportunities ebb and flow, trends rise and fall, but my fans? They’ve stuck by me like roots in the ground, steady and unwavering no matter the storm. Each show, I feel a little closer to the good souls who keep showing up, and I’m forever grateful for this small but mighty community we’ve built together. It’s been an absolute joy this year to welcome new faces into our fold of kindred spirits. We indie artists need our audiences, and I want my fans to feel the love because, let’s be honest, they truly are
the best and they are the people who make the shows feel like we’re on some kind of Cloud 9.
MD: What does performing live mean to you?
MN: Agh, what a question! Let me try to put this into words. Imagine the person you love most, how fiercely you’d cling to them to protect them. Picture the place you love most, the sigh of relief washing over you when you finally arrive after a long journey. Remember the crushing pain you’ve endured to reach where you want to be. Think about the greatest sense of purpose you’ve ever felt. Picture the most satisfying moment, the rush of accomplishment, or the best outfit you’ve ever worn. Think about elation. Think about sensation. Recall the most exhausted you’ve ever been, every bone in your body aching, aching, aching. Remember a time you grinned until your mouth hurt or cried until your lids burned. Now, think about that force inside you, the relentless drive that insists you keep going, that insatiable hunger for more.
That’s what live music means to me. It’s that blistering, bold, beautiful beast of a thing that I will never be able to shake off.
MD: Which track from Mother of Pearl are you most excited to play live, and why?
MN: Oh, I really love playing “Minnesota Ground.” There’s something magical about stripping everything back to just acoustic guitar and vocals in a quiet room, taking me back to exactly how the song was born.
MD: In our F Word shoot, you’re wearing suits by The Deck. What does the brand mean to you?
MN: I think their motto of there’s no ‘one-size-fits-all’ approach to getting dressed appeals to me. I love that idea of embracing being totally, and uniquely yourself.
MD: You’ve become known for your love of suits—and we love it! How does wearing a suit reflect your brand as an artist?
MN: It’s funny—about four years ago, I decided to embrace the pantsuit at shows. Before that, I would sigh dramatically into my wardrobe, thinking, What the hell am I going to wear? Decision fatigue is real, and there are lots of decisions to make before a show. Comfort is non-negotiable for me on stage, but I also want to channel an elevated version of myself on stage. I want to feel powerful. So now, I’m all in on this pantsuit life—the timelessness, the nostalgia, the glorious collars, and colours. There’s power, but there’s also room for manoeuvres. It’s a great challenge, to walk the dangerous tightrope between looking like David Bowie or Hillary Clinton, wondering if today is the day I lose my edge. And what a dream it would be, to open a wardrobe and see moments, interviews, shows, studio sessions—memories all hanging there, in the form of matching blazers and trousers.
MD: If there’s one emotion or message you’d like listeners to take away from Mother of Pearl, what would it be?
MN: Feel every feeling as deeply as possible.
MD: And finally, this is F Word Magazine, so we have to ask - what’s your favourite “F” word?
MN: F-L-O-W.
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