LEIGH is the art pop solo project of Cameron McCurdy (she/her), a trans musician, multi-instrumentalist, comic maker and animator from Tāmaki Makaurau. Her self-produced album titled ‘Empathy for My Future Self’ traverses electropop and alternative rock, unsettled elegance to deliberate abrasion, in chronicling a very personal story of change. Michaela Tempany talked with LEIGH in the hectic run up to the album’s June release.

Marking one year (to the day) after starting Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT), Cam McCurdy is celebrating with the release of an album titled ‘Empathy for My Future Self’, an unapologetic account of her transition.

The third album from the musician/producer now known as LEIGH, it is the first as herself, and much like the artist refuses to sit quietly in any one sound; it’s electronic, fun, introspective, rude, direct and entirely hers. “I used to make sad-boy music,” Cam laughs. “Now I want to make raucous-girl music.”

Our conversation is over Zoom, energetic and fast-paced. She is charming, cheerful, and willing to share her experience. She wants to talk about it so other people don’t have to.

“So much of media, like queer media in general, but also trans media, is all incredibly depressing,” she says. “It focuses on how hard everything is, and I wanted to make something that was just kind of having fun, and being abrasive in a fun kind of way. Transitioning and coming out publicly was scary, but they were big steps in creating a life for myself that would make my future self happy.”

The Tāmaki Makaurau-based artist is not new to the music scene, however this is her first solo project under new moniker LEIGH.

“The all-caps is a reference to SOPHIE, the hyperpop music producer, who passed away a couple of years ago,” Cam explains.

SOPHIE, who came out as transgender in 2017, was instrumental in pioneering that decade’s hyperpop microgenre, and her experimental music is an obvious reference point for LEIGH. “A lot of transgender music tends to be very, I don’t know, electronic and abrasive. And I am definitely influenced by a lot of that sound.”

Cam’s relationship with music started early. At two years old, she managed to get a note out of her uncle’s trumpet. “From there I was set! My grandmother even called me her ‘music boy.’”

Trained in jazz and trumpet, Cam taught herself how to play the drums, later featuring in Makeshift Parachutes, KMTP, Velveteen Shakes, Deryk and west Auckland indie rock trio Blu Fish.

“Whenever people ask me about learning instruments or learning how to make music, I don’t really know how to answer! I lied and told people I could play the drums. (I couldn’t, until eventually I could.) I told people I was making an album – and then eventually I wasn’t lying because I learned how to do it.”

This has evidently been the approach to all of her solo projects. First album ‘Sapathy’ was recorded in her bedroom with acoustic instruments, and independently released in 2019. She describes it as “lyrically dense”. The second, ‘Transience’, came a year later during the Covid lockdown days.

 “It was very much an egg album. I’d write the guitar part first, play it on loop, and then sing different things. I love improvising and then finding something that I like and then reproducing it over and over again. I was also trying to hide the fact that there were electronic elements. It was recorded on a boom mic that was plugged into my phone, which I then emailed to myself!”

I ask whether the move into the electronic soundscape has coincided with her gender transition.

“I don’t go into my albums with any kind of intention,” she says. “Normally it’s just whatever instruments I have around, or whatever programme I’m using at the time, or however I’m feeling that ends up reflecting how it sounds. And while this album is definitely more electronic, I think that’s because I’m comfortable and happy.”

The first songs written for ‘Empathy for My Future Self’ were Pink Pill and Purple Pals – these two finished a month into Cam’s HRT journey. Soon after, she went to stay at her brother’s house.

“I had a dream about a hearing a song playing in a gay club, and it was so good that I woke myself up and recorded a voice memo. The next day I was talking to my brother about how I was doing, and how I really wanted to have ‘empathy for my future self’, that was the main thing I was focusing on. And holding his coffee, he leaned against the wall and said, ‘That’s an album title’. And I was like, ‘Well… now I need an album!’”

That dreamed song was March of the Cucks. Returning home she got to work writing, recording and self-producing the rest of what has ended up being a 13-track album, teaching herself recording in the process. The added goal of releasing it on the anniversary of starting HRT set a demanding schedule.

Cam recorded herself playing electric, acoustic and bass guitars, the trumpet and banjo, as well as vocals. She was at times joined by a variety of talented musicians, including a “gender-queer choir” on the trans anthem He’s Giving. 

“From the beginning of this album to the end of it, I learnt FL Studio, which is a completely new DAW for making music. I was constantly discovering keyboard shortcuts and realising I’d be taking 10 minutes to do something that I could have pressed a single button and done.”

She admits to struggling with deadlines and consistency.

“I think wanting to release this album on the one-year anniversary of starting HRT was a bit of a fool’s errand. I definitely burnt the candle at both ends and did a bit of a number on my sleep schedule! It’s also an album that doesn’t sound as polished as it could be if I got someone who actually knew what they were doing to do it, but I’m really proud of it anyway. And I think it has character. I think it does things wrong in ways that are fun. And as far as challenges go, the major challenge, honestly, was just that I’m actively going through puberty for the second time.”

Released in February, Comfortable? was the first single from the upcoming album, LEIGH debuting live with a full band in the same month. Following singles I Still Love the Moon (a remarkable distressed soul number) and the grandly theatric March of the Cucks made it onto student radio Top 10 lists, the latter fittingly heralding the album’s release. Cam contributes a lot of her success to her underground community of artists.

“It’s just so wonderful that there are spaces for people to be themselves and exist without prejudice.”

The list includes Finn Grieve, Evelyn Jones, Baby Zionov, Ruben Mita, Joshua Parker, Kieren Norman and Jessie Booth, Keegan Tunks, Madeline Bradley and Finn Johansson, all contributors to the album. Mastering was done by Tyler Trench (Shamplooh), and the incredibly moving album art was created by comic artist and animator, Tashi Donnelly.

Though rushed together and wildly diverse, ‘Empathy for My Future Self’ is a confident album. It is chaotic yet assured, loud yet unwaveringly tender. “I call it art pop,” she says, smiling. “Or genre non-confirming.”

The 13 tracks chronicle Cam’s year spent unlearning, reshaping, and finally making space for joy. “It’s throwing your hat in the ring, giving it a go, and being compassionate with yourself about it.”

I ask if there is a message that Cam would like for album listeners to take away?

“If the album is anything,” she says, “it’s a testament to how good gender affirming care is for creative output.” She pauses. “My message is to be true to yourself.”