Interview: Chloe Gill on Becoming Herself Through ‘Pushing Punishment’

“Pushing Punishment” feels like a turning point. When you say this is you “becoming you,” what does that actually look like day-to-day?

I think it’s about rebuilding myself over the past two or three years and rediscovering the parts of me that maybe got lost along the way. Music has always been how I process everything — whether that’s writing or just listening — but writing “Pushing Punishment” felt different. It felt like a release. Like I was reconnecting with something essential in myself.

For most of the past two years, this album has shaped my day-to-day life. The songs have been my soundtrack while I’ve been navigating change — learning to accept what I can control and what I can’t. I’ve tried to embrace growth instead of resisting it.

In many ways, I’ve always wanted to create a song like “Pushing Punishment” — in its sound, its energy, its intensity. It feels like a version of me I’ve been working toward for a long time. And I’m just really proud and happy about what it became.

There’s a real tension-and-release dynamic in the track. Did that come from the production first, or was it already sitting in the way you were feeling at the time?

What you hear is pretty much how it was written. The tension and release were already there — it all came together really quickly, in about a day. I wrote and self-produced a demo before taking it into the studio with Gareth Hudson, and when he heard it, he loved it straight away. From there, we just built on what was already there.

We rerecorded certain parts and really elevated the structure with some solid instrumentation. My favourite elements are probably the live strings and the acoustic drums — they add so much depth and movement to the track.

I’m super proud of the arrangement and the musicianship on this one. In a lot of ways, I felt more like a composer than just a songwriter, which was really exciting for me. And I feel incredibly lucky to have so many amazing musicians playing on this track and across the album — it sounds the way it does because of them.

You talk about learning to fill your own cup first. Was that a hard lesson for you, or something that came after hitting a wall?

It’s definitely been a mix of experiences and just learning to trust the process of life. I’ve hit burnout before. I’ve had setbacks with both my mental and physical health, and I’ve had to navigate two pretty debilitating diseases — Endometriosis and an autoimmune disease. Those experiences alone teach you very quickly that you only have so much capacity. I’ve explored these experiences through previous releases like my single ‘Firework Night’.

I’ve had to learn how to be resourceful for myself in difficult moments — to pause, to practise mindfulness, diaphragmatic breathing, and nervous system regulation. To actually stop and reframe with what I do have, instead of pushing through.

I’ve always believed in timing. I really do think everything happens for a reason, and that there’s something to learn from every experience — whether you see it in the moment or only in hindsight. I’ve tried to really own the changes that have come my way, and to recognise that the people who come into your life are often there to teach you something about yourself.

But I also know I don’t get very far when I give my power away or focus on other people more than I focus on myself. That’s when I end up exhausted, emotional, and stressed — and that’s just not a sustainable way to be. Filling my own cup first wasn’t a single lesson; it was something I had to learn the hard way, over time, but I am proud to have learnt so much about my life at 22, with so much more to learn.

The song sounds big — almost anthemic — but it’s rooted in something very internal. How do you balance that scale when you’re writing?

When I’m writing, I’m not really thinking about the final outcome or the expectation of how it should sound. I don’t go in with expectations about what it’s “supposed” to be. I just trust the process of entering ‘flow state’ and following whatever feels honest in the moment.

Creativity is so special to me — I genuinely love it. Writing is one of the few times I completely lose track of everything else. I am just planting this garden of flowers and vines of songs, with every word of every song being part of who I am. Each song carries pieces of who I am, whether they’re loud and expansive or quiet and internal.

The scale kind of takes care of itself. If the emotion feels big, the song grows big. If it feels intimate, it stays close. I don’t force that balance — I just let the feeling lead. And then suddenly… poof. There’s a finished song. It still feels like magic to me.

You’ve mentioned accepting your neurodivergence and personality more fully. Did that acceptance change the way you approach songwriting or performance?

Not really — I’m just me. If anything, it’s just made me prouder to be who I am. I feel really lucky that I get to share that with people, and that it resonates and lands how I hope it lands. What you see is what you get, on stage and off. I have never felt like I have had to mask or ‘perform’ a certain version of myself.

In terms of songwriting, it’s probably made me more honest. Accepting my neurodivergence has helped me understand how my mind works and how I process emotions. I think I’m better at articulating what I’m actually feeling now, instead of filtering it, being confused by it, or second-guessing it.

So the core of how I write hasn’t changed — but my relationship with myself has. And that’s made everything around my artistry feel way clearer and more grounded.

Working with Gareth Hudson, was there a moment in the studio where you felt the track really clicked into place?

He’s marvellous, so incredibly talented — we’ve worked together on so many amazing projects over the years. When I brought him the demo, I also came in with this long, excitement-filled list of goals for what the song could become. He just got it straight away.

We really do share a wavelength when it comes to communication. Sometimes it’s barely even verbal — it’s just a look or a noise made, a melody hummed, a rush to an instrument, or a small comment and we both know where it needs to go next. That’s such a special thing in a studio environment.

I think the moment it really clicked was when we started layering in the live elements — especially the drums, vocals and strings. Then everything began to breathe. You could feel the energy shift from a “great demo” to something alive. From that point on, it felt like we were just bringing the vision into focus rather than searching for it.

You reference Go Farther In Lightness and that sweeping, emotional build. Were you chasing that same kind of lift in the final chorus?

Dave’s work is unmatched. Gang of Youths — David Le’aupepe — create music that feels architectural. There’s such endurance in it. He writes with this sweeping emotional scale, exploring the human condition, faith, inner battles, mental health, love and loss, and that latent strength we all carry. It’s like a roaring call to action wrapped in vulnerability, and I am so inspired by it. Hearing their music is peak enjoyment for me.

I definitely draw inspiration from their sound and writing style. They’ve carved out something that feels like its own genre, and that’s so inspiring to me — the idea that you can build a world sonically and emotionally and fully inhabit it. So yes, I think there’s always a part of me that’s chasing that kind of lift — that feeling where the final chorus doesn’t just arrive, it erupts.

With the drums and strings toward the end, that cyclical feeling was intentional. I was also inspired by Bon Iver and the way Justin’s instrumentation moves. I wanted it to feel almost relentless — like running in circles inside your own mind — before that sense of breaking through. The arrangement tells the story just as much as the lyrics do. It’s tension, momentum, and release. The song is big, but the core of it is personal.

And with my debut album, I Have A Habit of Dreaming, just around the corner… it feels like both exposure and empowerment. There’s vulnerability in letting people hear the full body of work — these songs have been my world for the past two years. But there’s also so much pride in it. This album shaped my days, carried me through change, and helped me understand myself better.

Releasing it feels like saying, “This is me.” And that’s terrifying — but it’s also incredibly freeing, and I am excited to open doors with my music.