By Poppy Reid
Eliza Doolittle, at just 22, is so well press-prepped that her guard is down just enough to reveal her as the sweet newcomer with bucketfuls of passion that she is, yet up enough to retain that necessary air of mystery amidst her gruelling schedule.
Doolittle is part British doe-eyed darling, part cheeky provocateur, whose silver-tongued metaphors have ignited some diverse opinions. “Loads of people interpret my songs in a way that it’s not actually about…I’ve written about friends and people I know without them even knowing,” says the rising star while promoting her debut album around Sydney and Melbourne. Influenced by Stevie Wonder but sounding more like a whimsical throwback to ‘60s pop, Doolittle is weaving her own seminal niche that would send Kate Nash back to the drawing board.
Daughter of director John Caird and actress/singer Frances Rufelle, Doolittle was destined for a life in the spotlight. “I think it’s in my blood and I’d always end up doing it because I loved it so much, even as a kid,” she says, her accent laced with a hint of dulcet trill.
She was named by one of her schoolteachers after My Fair Lady herself, the sobriquet stuck and now only adds to her cheery-pop innocence. In 2004, Doolittle signed a publishing deal with Parlophone; the inking at just 16 years of age cemented a high awareness of the industry and the media underbelly that comes along with it.
With our interview scheduled as her last for the day, Doolittle is well equipped for anything I have to throw at her. When asked how she’ll feel in future years about singing tracks like Rollerblades and So High (which she wrote at ages 17 and 18) Doolittle says her songs will always be relevant.
“I understand why Supergrass don’t sing We Are Young We Are Free anymore because they’re like ‘we’re not young, we’re not free, we’ve got kids and stuff,’ I get that…I think the lyrical content in my songs is something I’ll feel forever and will probably be in my mind forever.”
Unlike the slew of other early to mid-twenties pop mavens currently doing the rounds, Doolittle doesn’t sing about love, infatuations or bad romances. “Loads of people think I write love songs and I don’t write love songs at all,” she says firmly.
In fact, the only track on her self-titled album that is about a boy, is completely fictional. The debut single, Skinny Genes peaked at number 5 in the UK Singles Chart, and with lyrics like ‘the yolk is in the middle and I’m chewing through the white,” Doolittle is smart not to give too much away on this one.
“You can take it whatever way you want,” she laughs. “It’s about a boy who’s really annoying in every way except for one, it’s a bit naughty…It’s made up but I wish it were true ‘cos it would be nice to have a guy like that around.”
Considering Doolittle’s breakout record takes the road less travelled and the fact she can be as enigmatic as Amy Winehouse’s hair tower; it comes as no surprise that while she’s making waves in the UK and Australia and destined for a bright career, at home she’s ‘Loobeeloo’ to mum.
“When I was growing up there was a song that goes [sings] ‘here we go looby loo, here we go looby light, here we go looby loo, all on a Saturday night.
“My mum has always called me Loobeeloo because I’ve got long arms and long legs and I’m always a bit all over the place, I’m a bit uncoordinated and bash into things,” it’s anecdotes like that stop any worry about what she’ll be like coming out the other side of the industry cog.
Doolittle may not have the structured career path of the Ga-Ga’s and Britney’s of the world; “I think I know where I’m going to take the next one but I just can’t really be sure until I do it... I might go in a completely opposite direction,” she reveals hesitantly. This equivocation may come across as a lack of confidence, however, therein lies her charm. There’s no denying she’s a fresh breath of air on a pop industry pregnant with sexed-up capitalist brand makers.
