I’m making my second album right now, so I’m going to do that, read a lot and see what happens. When I got the role in Dunkirk, it happened right at the start of my first album, so I had to stop everything for five months. But stuff like that always happens when it happens, so I dunno, man. I’m enjoying not knowing to be honest.

I didn’t grow up in a man’s man world. I grew up with my mum and my sister. But I definitely think in the last two years, I’ve become a lot more content with who I am. I think there’s so much masculinity in being vulnerable and allowing yourself to be feminine, and I’m very comfortable with that. Growing up you don’t even know what those things mean. You have this idea of what being masculine is and as you grow up and experience more of the world, you become more comfortable with who you are. Today it’s easier to embrace masculinity in so many different things. I definitely find – through music, writing, talking with friends and being open – that some of the times when I feel most confident is when I’m allowing myself to be vulnerable. It’s something that I definitely try and do.

A lot of the time, when you do something that goes well, your thoughts immediately turn to ‘what’s next?’ Everything moves so fast that you often don’t get a chance to stop and think ‘holy shit, that was really amazing’. I just finished my tour and it’s great to step back and think this isn’t real life, this is just a really incredible job that I do. [Are those moments of objectivity incremental? Or do you try to set aside a chunk of time to do that?] I find they just happen when they happen. I get them a lot when I’m driving. I’ll be listening to something, and I’ll go back to when I was 12 or something and I’ll think ‘shit if my 12-year-old self could see me now’. I think it’s really important to have those moments because if you don’t then there’s an expectation that life is supposed to be this great and I think that’s super dangerous.