Joy Crookes says she let go of perfectionism, and her music is better for it. The British-Irish-Bangladeshi singer describes a shift in approach on her forthcoming second album, Juniper, a record that captures a more unguarded sound and a new willingness to let the moment breathe.
Raised in London to a family that exposed her to Nick Cave, King Tubby, The Pogues, and music from Pakistan, Crookes credits her father for teaching her to absorb a wide range of influences. Her debut album, Skin (2021), earned a Mercury Prize nomination, and the following summer she performed at Glastonbury’s Pyramid Stage, tears welling as she realized the scale of the moment. Yet she says she avoided the dreaded second-album slump by not letting fear dictate the process. “For me, I’ve always got something to [expletive] say, so it wasn’t that difficult to write,” she says. The music nerd in Crookes also notes that the real challenge lay in crafting performances that matched the writing.
Work on Juniper began years ago. Crookes posted demos and early sketches on her Instagram feed in 2022, many of which have made the final track listing. So what took so long? “Making sure that the songs sounded the way they should, to match the songwriting,” she says. “That was the hard part.” Her recent single Perfect Crime is a sultry, dancefloor-ready track in which she gives herself a pep talk as she re-enters the dating pool. It was a case of chasing the vibe through “20 or 30” takes before she felt satisfied. “It’s incredibly janky but, for me, the jank is the important thing,” she says. If it were polished, she argues, the fun would vanish. “If you go through the individual elements, there are crazy moments that make no sense – but that’s what makes the song come together.”
Several other songs on Juniper, from the emotionally exposed Mother to the brutal break-up ballad Mathematics, were cut in single sessions. On the album’s philosophical closer, Paris, she even lets herself sing off key, preferring honesty to a perfectly tuned, auto-tuned vocal. “Growing up, my dad used to talk about how Van Morrison would ‘let go’ in his songs—there are moments in Listen to the Lion and Astral Weeks where he’s just free. And I think for the first time ever in my career, and just as a person, I let myself go on this record.”
Anxiety and the strain of early fame have shaped Juniper as much as the music. Crookes says a “very hedonistic phase” in 2022 coincided with a drop in self-worth and an abusive relationship that worsened her mental health. The anxiety grew so intense that it manifested physically: vomiting attacks and an inability to keep food down. With the help of “very intrusive” therapy and the support of friends, Crookes began to rebuild. “The anxiety had become so familiar that it was like a part of my family, a part of my friendship group,” she says.
First Last Dance, a track about letting go of the grip anxiety has on life, marked a turning point. The song blends a feathered, Kylie-like dance beat with lyrics about not letting anxiety overwhelm her. “It’s not necessarily, ‘Goodbye anxiety, I can’t have you any more,’ even though I’d love for it to be that simple. It’s more like, ‘I can’t have you be so prominent that I physically cannot function.’” With renewed clarity, Crookes began prioritizing what mattered most, both personally and artistically.
The video for I Know You’d Kill is a stark, cinematic moment in which the singer faces down assassins with a Japanese katana. It is a tribute to her manager, Charlie, whose protective instincts helped keep Crookes and her team safe when a troubling figure emerged at the edge of her circle. “Charlie said, ‘Well, you know I’d kill for you,’” she recalls. That moment underscored the importance of friendship and loyalty as she moved through a difficult period. With support from her inner circle, she found the strength to reassert her identity beyond the music industry’s gaze.
Somebody To You, another Juniper track, is a declaration of independence from a suffocating relationship and from public expectations. Crookes asks a guiding question that resonates beyond romance: who is she when she’s out of someone else’s sight? It’s a reminder that her life is a tapestry of facets—music, film, and personal growth—that defy a single label.
In addition to music, Crookes broadened her artistic reach with acting. She made her screen debut in Ish, a film about two best friends confronting a harsh police stop and search. The Venice premiere earned the film the audience award, a moment that confirmed Crookes’s capacity to inhabit roles beyond the microphone. She has since explored other acting offers and has her eye on Gurinder Chadha’s Bend It Like Beckham sequel, hopeful to contribute to the soundtrack or the screen, or both. The original film left an impression on her for its exploration of brownness and Irishness—and the sense that there might be a more expansive story to tell next time.
As Juniper nears release, Crookes reflects on the long road that led there. The album is described as rich and profound, unafraid to confront complexity while still peppered with warmth and humor. The second-album slump has been banished, but the emotional arc remains. “When you overcome stuff like that, one minute you feel so proud and the next you feel so sad for yourself that you went through such a hard time,” she says. The achievement is tempered by gratitude and nostalgia for the hard‑won process. “It’s what makes releasing this album so euphoric and so sad at the same time.”
Crookes is already looking ahead: a new album is underway, and she says Juniper will be followed by something different again. “I feel very alive at the moment, and I am so grateful,” she says. The European leg of her tour is scheduled to begin in November and will showcase a performer who has learned to balance precision with spontaneity, vulnerability with resilience. In Crookes’s telling, letting go isn’t a rejection of craft but a deeper commitment to truth in performance.