Grace Potter greets me with the same fiery energy you’d expect from someone who just burned down the house at a festival. “Where’s the ferns? Where’s the boobs?” she jokes, referencing our last chat at Forecastle, where mermaids and chaos abounded. But this time, Potter’s focus is on new terrain—her solo record Midnight, a journey that’s as personal as it is sonically adventurous.
“This wasn’t supposed to be a solo record,” she says, leaning in with her trademark candor. “At first, I thought this was another Nocturnals project. I wrote these songs, built them from the beat up, which was something I’d never done before. But as the demos took shape, it became clear this wasn’t the Nocturnals’ sound. This was my sound.”
And it’s a sound that’s unafraid to embrace pop sensibilities, even if it’s ruffled a few feathers. “When people heard ‘Alive Tonight,’ they thought, ‘Oh no, Grace has gone EDM!’” she laughs. “But these are live drums, live instruments. I’m just experimenting—letting go of the rules and expectations people have had for me.”
Potter’s evolution isn’t just musical—it’s deeply tied to her sense of self. For years, she wrote and performed with the Nocturnals, crafting what she calls a “legacy I want to protect.” But Midnight was about stepping off the edge and embracing the unknown. “I’ve always admired artists like Neil Young, who know when to shift gears. Not every Neil Young record is a Crazy Horse record, and that’s okay. That’s what this is for me—it’s me figuring out what’s next.”
The process wasn’t without controversy. “Some fans are pissed,” she admits. “I knew that was coming. But I miss the era of mystery in music, the days when a band could drop a record that sounded nothing like their last and people would argue about it. Now, everything is so calculated. I want to push buttons. I want people to feel something, even if it’s discomfort.”
Speaking of pushing buttons, Potter’s activism is never far from the conversation. Her humanitarian efforts recently earned her the Harry Chapin Vanguard Award for her work addressing world hunger. “This isn’t just about food banks,” she says. “It’s about education—teaching kids where their food comes from and how to grow it. I grew up in a farming community, so this has always been part of my life. Fame didn’t start this for me; it just amplified what I was already doing.”
Potter’s disdain for “soapbox singers” is clear, but she walks the line carefully. “There’s a difference between doing good and marketing yourself as a do-gooder,” she says. “I want my actions to matter more than my words.”
It’s this balance—between the artist and the activist, the rock star and the realist—that defines Grace Potter. Her ability to shift gears without losing her authenticity is rare in an industry obsessed with formulas. “I don’t believe in formulas,” she says. “I’m not here to create the perfect pop song. I’m here to make something that feels honest, even if it’s messy.”
With Midnight, Potter has crafted a record that’s both bold and intimate, a reflection of an artist unafraid to evolve. Whether she’s diving into disco-inspired grooves or channeling the raw energy of her early days, there’s an undeniable freedom in her work. “This is the Grace Potter of 1983, 1995, 2005,” she says with a grin. “Every version of me is in this record.”
For now, Potter is focused on the road ahead—both literally and figuratively. With her Magical Midnight Roadshow, she’s bringing a rotating cast of musicians to the stage, blending the familiar with the unexpected. “It’s Nocturnals, it’s new faces, it’s everything I’ve always loved about playing music,” she says.
And if some fans need time to catch up, that’s fine too. “They’ll be back,” she says confidently. “This record might be a four-course dessert, but it’s damn good dessert. And I’m just getting started.”
Watch the interview above and then check out an earlier conversation below.
