Burnout, Ballsacks, and Better Futures
- Tashi Donnelly

- 3 hours ago
- 11 min read
INTERVIEW | ISSUE FIVE | PUORO O AOTEAROA / LOCAL MUSIC An Interview with Maebh McCurdy (she/her) | @leighapparently | Contributor
Interviewed by Finn Johansson (he/him) | @finnjohansson2006 | Contributor
Transcribed and edited by Tashi Donnelly (she/her) | @tashi_rd | Editor-in-Chief
In this interview, Finn Johansson sits down with Maebh McCurdy to talk chaotic songwriting, buried punchlines, and the strange alchemy of turning dreams into music. Find yourself a nice tree to sit in as Maebh candidly discusses the realities of transition, burnout, and building community around Aotearoa’s trans music scene.

Finn: Your album runs the gamut of emotion, I would say. I don't think there’s an emotion un-run gamut-wise. But, what would you say? You’ve got funny songs, you’ve got funny parts, but what is the funniest line in your album that you don’t think anyone else finds funny?
Maebh: The one that a lot of people would say is, “Welcome to the motherfucking primordial soup,” from “Coleoidea”. People jive with that one, but for me, the funniest line is a section of “The Stare of a Newborn” where I’m singing, “Driving ‘round town with the face of my mother, walking ‘round town swinging low like my father, living my life modelled after my brother”, and the “swinging low like my father” part is a reference to transness, and a reference to my low-hanging testicles.
Finn: Your sweet chariots?
Maebh: Yeah, my sweet chariots! So that is a reference to both mine and my father’s ballsacks. No one seems to pick up on that one. I haven’t told my dad that, either.
Finn: If he saw the lyrics in front of him, how could he miss it?
Maebh: He’s had the lyrics in front of him, that’s the thing!
Finn: He’s like, “Well, yeah, because of my penchant for jungle gyms”. Maebh: (laughs) Yeah!
Finn: It’s a good line. And “Driving ‘round town with the face of my mother” is on the press release; it’s pretty iconic.
Maebh: As the HRT kicks in, I keep looking at pictures of myself and seeing not only my mother, but many of the women in my family. I see my aunties, Claire-Louise and Jocelyn, and I see Judie as well, my aunt on my mum's side. But mostly my mum's face. I see photos of her young, and I’m like “Oh! Wow, we look so similar!” It’s wild.
Finn: That’s beautiful.
Maebh: It’s lovely.
Finn: Which one of your songs has the most amount of audio tracks on it?
Maebh: Probably FAE, because every second that a saxophone is playing, I've probably cut six different saxophone takes together. I had Finn Grieve [saxophonist] come in, and just kind of go ham, go crazy, and I was left with maybe five minutes' worth of saxophone material that I had to condense into about 30 seconds. I picked all my favourite bits and put them all together, on multiple tracks, doing weird effects and things.
Finn: Could you estimate?
Maebh: Hm, I’m not sure. If you’re talking about mixing tracks, I regularly go up to 50. Because sometimes I’ll recreate a sound that I forgot I already had, or I’ll move something somewhere random, so it's different from something else. Sending my stuff off to be remixed, which I’ve been trying to do at the moment, is just an absolute clusterfuck of renaming tracks or giving tracks a name at all! Because I’ve only been working with myself, in my room, so when I’m punished for my bad organisation, it’s only me being punished. I know ‘Empathy for My Future Self’ is the name of the album, but I really didn't embody that in the creation of those working project files.
Finn: “Empathy for my future self”, except with admin work?
Maebh: Yeah!
Finn: For people walking the ADHD tightrope, who want to do as much as you do (and you can be humble and say, “Ah, I have so many uncompleted projects”), what actionable steps could you suggest?
Maebh: Do not burn the candle at both ends! Yes, you gotta get shit done, but once you’ve burnt out, you can’t do anything, and you’ll be no use to yourself or to anyone.
Finn: How do you figure out when you’re about to burn out, and what do you do to prioritise?
Maebh: Honestly, I’m not very good at it. I don’t really know how to relax. I rely on the people around me to realise. When I get really dissociated, my people will tell me to take a break, essentially. There was a Christmas event recently where I zoned out at the table, and Keegan Tunks, who plays in my live band, went, “Oop, there she goes!”
Finn: So, find the warning signs and loved ones who can figure it out?
Maebh: This might not work for everyone, but it works for me. Because I make visual art and music, I always have at least two albums that I’m working on at one time, and at least two comics I’m working on at one time. And then a bunch of other ancillary things, like the Trans Collective, or Neglect Music, where I make CDs for people, or my NZ comics and music wiki. I have as many projects as possible, so that my autism is satisfied by the fact that there is a structure, there is a set number of things I’m doing, and steps to follow. My ADHD is satisfied because I can jump from project to project. Whichever one is the highest priority at any given moment, I can procrastinate by working on another project, which will eventually become so close to being done that it feels like the highest priority, so I jump back to the other project. By having a bunch of ideas and projects that you're working on all at once, you’ll inevitably complete one by procrastinating on another one.
Finn: That is the goldmine there. So, you’ve transitioned, you’ve changed your name, and the admin that comes with it, as a musician? Well fuck! Any tips for someone wanting to go about it without the headache, because there have been some headaches for you?
Maebh: Unfortunately, it’s going to be a headache regardless. You have to, you know, pay the government money to change your name and gender, and even then, government organisations and public health systems aren't automatically notified. You still have to take all your stuff into the IRD, the bank, and everywhere. It’s a long process to change your name legally.
Finn: Boo!
Maebh: Boo! Precisely. But also as a musician, I used to be known as “[my deadname] McCurdy”. Then I changed my artist name to my middle name, LEIGH, because I didn't want my legal name to be my artist name. LEIGH also felt like a persona that I could sort of go into, and then eventually I changed my legal name to Maebh, and have been Maebh ever since. I started to resent it when people called me Leigh. I remembered when Jami Kerrigan from Courtney Hate would get called “Courtney”, and Jade Lewis from Club Ruby would get called “Ruby”. It’s a thing that just happens. So when I started to resent people for calling me LEIGH, I realised it was my own fault. That I called the band that. So I changed it back to, well, essentially the same artist name that I had before, but with my new name instead of my deadname.
Yes, the name thing will be a headache, and it’ll be annoying to send a bunch of emails, and you might have to email publications to ask them to change your name on something published a year ago, and you’ll feel like you’re being really annoying. But the more we normalise people doing this sort of thing, the better.
My advice? Either pick an artist name that you like, and has nothing to do with your real name, or do it under your real name, and recognise that maybe at some point you might transition and need to change it. It might feel like you’re losing momentum by changing your ‘name’ or your ‘brand’, or whatever, but ultimately, you’ve got to do what’s going to make you feel happy and make you keep doing this thing that you’re doing.
Finn: As we delved into the answer to that question, I realised that perhaps the headliner of that answer is, “it's a lot of work, and it’s hard”. But I think a really good piece of advice was to not feel like you’re imposing. That resonated with me.
Maebh: There is something about being publicly trans and making music, like yeah, I’m angry and political, but I’m not being trans publicly for the sake of politics. I’m just being myself. And the more people doing that, the better.
Finn: Yeah, absolutely! How do you usually interpret your dreams?
Maebh: Depends on the dream. I interpret my dreams by asking my best friend/flatmate, Tashi. She’s a great interpreter of dreams. But I don't really have a methodology. I think most creativity stems from the collective unconscious. Dreams come from an unconscious state, where you can tap into your deep, inner thoughts and feelings. It’s quite confronting. Turning them into art is a way to make those findings less intense.
I made a song recently, based on two dreams that I had. In one, Jessie Booth, the guitarist in my band, had died. It was awful! It was very realistic, and we were looking after Kieren (her partner), organising things, and trying to be there for everybody. It wasn’t until I went to the wake, and all of Jessie’s family had the same dyed blue hair, that I realised, “Oh, I’m dreaming! This is ridiculous.” Then, later in that dream, Jessie had been revived, and we were freedom fighters in some kind of revolution. Then we had to play this gig at an old abandoned, haunted house. We started performing a song, and I woke up and immediately started playing it. It’s a really good song, too. A lot of my songs come from dreams. March of the Cucks was something I heard in a dream.
Finn: Would you tell me about your new burgeoning trans network?
Maebh: Yes! Just recently, I made an Instagram account called Trans Music Aotearoa. I’m trying to make a platform to champion, support, provide opportunities, and become a sort of news hub for new releases by trans musicians. It’s for any trans, nonbinary, Takatāpui musicians in Aotearoa. I’m working with Skye Pooley to make a website that will be a database of profiles, linking to their Instagram and Bandcamp, etc. I want to, hopefully, set up a physical space to collaborate and make music. I want to do gigs, raise money, and try to create an inclusive platform and space. Especially with this stupid fucking government we have at the moment, and how much they’re sucking the dick of America and their trans-scapegoat-isms. I really want to make shit feel fine, and create a community. Community has been so immensely important for me throughout my transition, and with music in general. I came up during the all-ages scene, back in the days when the council hadn’t shut down all the venues. And we were drinking and doing drugs in alleyways, and a bunch of those people I knew have turned out to be abusers. So I want to take the good parts of that, where it was a community, and a space for people to express themselves, and find themselves through music, without the bullshit of all the, well, you know, cis dudes.
Finn: Do you have thoughts on how to separate the internet from all of this?
Maebh: I was talking with Wren (my girlfriend) about this place off K-Road, that we could potentially use as a physical space for this. But as we were thinking about it, we realised that if we label this building as “Trans Music Aotearoa”, we open ourselves up to those people who’ve been sucked into hateful rabbit-holes to come and find it. I want to take this community off the internet in the sense that I want to do gigs, workshops, and things in reality, where people can come and be amongst people like themselves, and find kindred spirits. But I also think the internet is really useful for connecting people, especially when we're scattered across the whole country.
Finn: As you say, some people want to exist publicly for their music and stuff, and not necessarily for being trans.
Maebh: Yeah, and it can also be a dangerous thing to put out there. I try to ignore that fact, and I’ve not had any problems so far. I think that internet spaces are very insular bubbles, and the hateful bubbles are very loud on the internet. But in the real world, yes, there are people who will do horrible things. I’d say for the most part, people are kind and respectful. If all else fails, there are enough of us that we could kill all the fascists in power. Or, you know, just make sure that you vote!
Finn: Would you like to tell me about your next project, was it with your uncle?
Maebh: Yeah! So, I’m making an album called Sometimes Your Irises Turn Black. It’s about the collective unconscious, where art and creativity comes from. My own kind of weird fae-spirituality. It’s also about people who have inspired me who are still living, and people who have inspired me who have died. Family members, and also Adison Whitley from Heroes for Sale. It’s a pretty dark album, returning to my dark, folky roots, but with the same electronic art rock punchiness of Empathy for My Future Self. It’s been hard to make, which is why I’ve been making Transition Collateral as well, which is a much more transfem stereotypical, electronic, hyper-poppy kind of thing. So in Sometimes Your Irises Turn Black, every song has a painting by my uncle that, if it’s not based around, then it aesthetically takes inspiration from. My uncle, Stephen McCurdy, has been painting since I was a kid, and I love his paintings.
I’m also starting a column in Debate Magazine called Queer Artists’ Tree, like “queer artistry”. The gimmick is that we’re sitting in a tree, and I’m interviewing queer artists and music creatives in Auckland. I ask them what their favourite tree is, and I draw us in that tree.
Finn: What’s your favourite tree?
Maebh: Ah fuck. Probably kauri.
Finn: The mighty kauri.
Maebh: The kauri cathedral at Arataki is one of my favourite places in the entire world. It starts at the Arataki Visitors Centre, on Scenic Drive, and after a 20-minute walk, there are around eight kauri, all about 500 years old, in a circle. There's a raised platform, so there’s no contamination of kauri die-back on the roots. Sadly, those trees do have kauri die-back. Because of the nature of kauri, they function like mycelium, like how mushrooms share their nutrients, so if one kauri gets die-back, and it’s near another one, because of the shared nutrient system, they will help out the sick tree, and become sick as well. There are some injections that can stall the progression of the disease. Though I don’t want to advertise that people should go there, because the more people who go, the more likely it is that these trees will continue to get sick. But it’s a place where I feel very spiritually at peace. I’m definitely a tree-hugger.
Finn: So what else is going on for you, music-wise?
Maebh: Velveteen Shakes (Keegan Tunks), who I play drums for, is putting out an album at the end of May called The Book of Velveteen. I play drums on one song, trumpet on another, and also play and sing on another song. I’ll be making physical CDs for that as Neglect Music.
I just put out a live album, Maebh and the Morrígan (Live at Isdale Studios), which reimagines songs from Empathy for My Future Self, with my wonderful live band. On that album, we have Jessie Booth on guitar, Kieren Norman on bass, and Josh Parker on drums.
If you want to come see me at a gig, there is one on May 9th, we’re opening for The Sour. Then, on May 30th, we’ll be playing a fundraiser gig at the Charlotte Museum for Music Month. It’s a septuple-“M” gig: Music Month, Masc/Femme, Moon Goose, Maebh McCurdy and the Morrígan.
Finn: Mmmmmmm.
Maebh: Yeah, so my band is Jessie Booth, Kieren Norman, Keegan Tunks, Farrell Tunks, Joshua Parker, Finn Grieve, and Finn Johansson now! That’s the collective amorphous members of the Morrígan, you might see all of them, you might see some of them, you might see none of them, who knows?
Finn: And to finish, what is a Morrígan?
Maebh: So the Morrígan is a Celtic deity, God of many things; death, hearth and home, loss, grief, vengeance, transformation, and journeys. She’s a shapeshifter, and the common faces she wears are Badb: the battle crow, as well as the banshee, and Macha: the Queen. I have a tattoo on my right arm of the Morrígan in crow form, drawn by Louis le Brocquy, in the book The Táin by Thomas Kinsella. Badb is the aspect of the Morrígan I feel the most kinship with.



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