Indie Rock's Bewitching New Siren

At first blush, this neo-Nicksian's conjuring could feel fabricated, but Khan is far more spiritually aligned with Devendra Banhart and Joanna Newsom than Rachel Zoe. And while there is no shortage of new female artists trying to capitalize on an outrageous fashion sense— Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Alison Goldfrapp—or an aura of innate witchy mysticism, something about Khan feels authentic. Perhaps it’s her quiet, sweet demeanor, or the way she talks about her own style. “I bought these gloves at the Sunday high market for 50p,” she giggles, looking down at her black-lace pair with the fingers snipped off so she can play guitar. “I never really thought about dressing up, but I get excited by wearing strange and wonderful things.” She attributes much of her look to her Pakistani father (who left her family when she was 11), and trips to that country. “When I was a little girl, I was painted with Mendhi and liquid eyeliner,” she says. “And then I discovered ‘60s drag queens, special men like the Coquettes, and they were so beautiful and fancy, and I loved it. There is an innate playfulness in me; it's not premeditated.”

In a time of high alert and anxiety, she is preaching something quite simple: a return to nature and to the self, and to indulging our prelapsarian childhood fascinations, whatever they may be.

It is this sense of playfulness that made Khan’s debut record, Fur and Gold, such a hit when it debuted in 2006. Having spent her early adult years as a nursery-school teacher, Khan decided to turn her love of stories and childlike mischief to songs; she ended up creating interesting and magical soundscapes. She recorded one single, “Horse and I,” in a forest while it rained, with a friend holding a microphone in front of her in the dark. On another song, she and another friend sang the chorus snuggling together underneath a duvet, like a children’s fort. “I keep going back to the ‘80s,” Khan says. “To a place of innocence and dreaming and love.”

Khan looks youthful—even at 29, she seems like a teen—peeking out from underneath chunky bangs and wrinkling her button nose. Still, on Two Suns, she sounds more grown-up, having dealt with love and loss since recording Fur and Gold. The album debuted at No. 5 on the U.K. charts, and her singles have been flying off iTunes since she performed on Late Show With David Letterman on May 1, and with this new record, Khan stands to attract a new fanbase outside of the glittery girls that view her as a fashion icon and the young men who are in love with her from a distance (“Natasha marry me!” was a common refrain at her show). On Two Suns, she sings about sadness and dark thoughts, having broken up with her boyfriend, fellow musician Will Lemon, while writing it.

She also does something that marks a true rock star—she invents an alter ego. On Two Suns, Khan often sings as “Pearl,” a blond party girl that she considers to be a representation of her self-destructive time spent living in New York. “If Pearl were a real person,” she explains, “she’d be a subconscious dreamlike witchy character that lies in her hotel room going, 'Sigh!'” She notes that Two Suns is a “very American record. I dreamt of weird animal heads and strange karaoke bars and leather jackets. That’s my American romance, but also being here can put anyone on edge. And a lot of the record is about me not feeling connected anymore to myself or to nature or to England. It feels for the first half like I’m desperately howling at the moon, asking, where do I belong, where’s my home, what’s good love, and what do I do?”