Hen Hoose Collective on their new album The Twelve

While many of us were wrangling the ironing board into a makeshift work-from-home desk during lockdown, Tamara Schlesinger had a bigger brief on her mind. The musician – who has written and performed mononymously as MALKA for the last decade – was reflecting on representation. From these musings, Hen Hoose was born: a Creative Scotland-funded songwriting collective based in Glasgow with a mission to create bold new music and champion fairer opportunities within the music industry. While the rest of the world came to a standstill, 2020 was the year that things started moving again for Schlesinger.

The group’s debut album, Equaliser, showcased songs from Scotland-based artists including founding member of The Delgados Emma Pollock and euphoric art-pop performer Elizabeth Elektra. An inspiring string of contributions propelled the first full-length into the shortlist for the 2022 SAY Award. It was during this period that SHEARS – the moniker of Ayr-born Rebecca Shearing – entered the fold. “I remember going to the event when we were nominated and being like, 'I'm now in Hen Hoose!'” she recalls from her Leith flat, acutely aware of how the inclusion affected her as an artist. “It was such a transformational process for me, being trusted with all the technical things, mixing and producing.”

Multi-instrumentalist Cariss Crosbie was another new voice to enter the collective, initially to bring the group’s recorded work to life on stage. “I joined as part of the core band, but then quickly, that evolved into so many other things.” Schlesinger wanted more for the collective’s members, whose work had already appeared in Hollywood films, Netflix series, and global advertising campaigns. Hen Hoose was never just about platforming or profiling. The collective is about evolving artistry and pushing the boundaries of what’s possible for women and non-binary musicians. “Within a year,” Crosbie says, “I'm writing and producing. Things I didn't really have the confidence to do. Watching another woman just go for it makes you think, 'Okay, if they're not scared, then I'm not scared.’”

There was no fear then when the collective set out to create The Twelve, a powerful celebration of collaboration. The project was born at Black Bay Studios, a residential recording space perched on the shoreline of the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. During an intensive week-long writing and recording retreat, Schlesinger, Crosbie and SHEARS were joined by fellow Hen Hoose members Susan Bear, Inge Thomson, Carla J Easton, Frances McKee, AMUNDA, Djana Gabrielle, Emma Pollock, Ray Aggs, and Jill Lorean – the first time members have come together in one place. The power of that union is palpable across the album's nine tracks, even if it was a little unconventional, as Schlesinger explains: “If you look on paper, the idea of this album was quite ridiculous, but the way it was achieved was unbelievable. It was one of the best musical experiences of my life.”

Photo: Siggy Stansfield.

Across the seven days, the musicians were put into rotating groups of four, each with a delegated person in charge of 'pace-making.' If the method sounds quite rigid, the output is anything but. Ego Death channels gnarly 90s, PJ Harvey rumblings while Out My Mind is Studio 54, disco dynamite with octave-leaping harmonies to match. Surely, the fluidity was hard to contain in a traditional tracklisting? Not so, admits Schlesinger. “The groups rotated each day, so there was always something that sounded familiar or a bit like another song. Ray Aggs and Jill Lorean played strings across several songs. Susan Bear played drums and bass across songs, so you have this sonic bed.”

While there’s power in The Twelve, another force undeniably shaped the record. “Emma Pollock described the island as the 13th member,” shares Crosbie. “There were no distractions. It wasn't like you finish in the studio, you go home, do loads of emails, look after your children. We're removed, so you were completely creative.” In the evenings, as the sun set over Loch Roag, the 12 shirked conventional responsibilities like selkies shedding their skins, transforming into their true forms. Stripped back to the basics, they huddled over crosswords, clutching a nightcap nip of wine. “The entire experience was magical because they looked after us so well. We didn't have to cook a meal. No one had to do anything but be together. Every studio had a view of the sea and the water, and so even if you didn't mean for the sound of the island to come in, it did.”

Leaving their duties at the door also created space for the members to switch up roles within the studio. SHEARS is credited as producer on tracks like Out My Mind and Ego Death, while Schlesinger leads on songs like Sirens Call My Name and In Control. Keeping the task in-house was another way to demonstrate the collective’s women-led mission. “It’s important for us to do these things to show that we can, and also that other female and non-binary musicians know they can. You can do these things. You can produce. You can use a desk,” insists SHEARS.

Collectives like Hen Hoose feel even more vital against the current musical landscape. The 2023 Musicians’ Census from Help Musicians and the Musicians’ Union shows that a huge 79% of women in music are performing musicians. But only 15% of live sound engineers and 12% of studio/mastering engineers are women. For Schlesinger, the problem is as much about safe, supportive spaces as it is about reclaiming roles that haven’t traditionally been associated with women or non-binary creatives. “When we started Hen Hoose, there were 13 writers; only two people said they were record producers in the entire collective. When we finished, nine had produced the music. These artists have sat in that role, doing all the technical things, but never called themselves producers.”

SHEARS admits she too felt intimidated entering production environments. “It took me a while because of the spaces Tamara was talking about being predominantly male. I would go in and I would be like, 'Oh, I am too scared to make a mistake in this room.' So I stayed as top lining.” (The process of writing the vocal melody and lyrics (the "topline") over a pre-existing instrumental track or beat). Fast forward over a decade since the producer’s Paper Lung EP, and she’s now at the helm of Black Bay’s modular analogue mixing console. Ever the collective’s cheerleader, Schlesinger is quick to point out that, whether the artists recognised it or not, “We had beyond the right amount of producers in that room.”

In the continued spirit of coming together, the Hen Hoose collective will bring The Twelve to life at a special album launch party as part of this month’s Celtic Connections Festival at Tramway. Crosbie and original Hen Hoose member and fellow multi-instrumentalist Sarah Hayes have been putting their heads together about how to bring some of the island magic into the space. “I want it to feel like Fleetwood Mac, really organic, but I want us to come across super powerful and confident in what we've made.” The logistics alone are a triumph, she says. “It'll be so lovely to actually have all 12 of us there, which is an unbelievable feat to be able to have that many people organised!”

Schlesinger is equally heartened. “It's just going to feel incredible for us all to be back together, like a little mini reunion.” The bandleader is typically aspirational about how much of the Black Bay experience they can channel on stage. “I'm looking forward to an extra drum to hit. I haven't told Cariss that I'm looking at a bunch of toms… In the studio, me, Becca, Jill and Emma went in and grabbed sticks. It was quite cathartic.” But ever the empowering sisterhood, Crosbie only leaps at the innovation. “If you get the drums, you don't even have to mic them up. You can just go into the audience…” Because Hen Hoose, after all, has always been about marching to the beat of your own drum.

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The Twelve is out 23 Jan via Hen Hoose; Hen Hoose Collective play Celtic Connections, Tramway, Glasgow, 30 Jan