It's been 17 years since Linda Thompson released her last album. In 1985, the woman who Time Magazine said, "may be Rock's best woman singer" stopped singing for the public. That year, she released her first solo album, "One Clear Moment." As a matter of fact, one of its songs even earned a Grammy nomination when performed by The Trio. In 1988, Linda Thompson began her second album, but she never finished it. Now, in 2002, Linda Thompson is once again sharing her formidable vocal gift. The appropriately entitled "Fashionably Late" stands with her best work.

Q Linda, "Fashionably Late" starts with this family reunion. Dear Mary has two of your three children -- your son, Teddy; your daughter, Kamila; and your ex-husband, Richard Thompson. How did this reunion come about?
A I don't know. I just found -- I just sort of fancied a reunion. It's like, you know, they're the coming together of the Borges (laughs). No, it was lovely. I just asked Richard if he would play on it and he said yes. And he liked the song. And then when he came to play the guitar, he said, "Oh, I think I'll sing on it, too." So it was just -- it was great. And Teddy and Kami, two of my kids feature quite heavily on it. And it was lovely all to be working together.

Q So everybody was in the studio at once?
A Actually, well, no. We were in the studio together, but at various different times. Do you know what I mean? We did the odd overdub. But you know, we were face-to-face for most of the time.

Q You've been married to Steve Kenis, who is a motion picture agent, for about 20 years. How did he feel about this reunion and the fact that you use your surname (as) your stage name still?
A Oh, well, he's in the movie business so he completely understands that. He's from Hollywood. He's a Los Angeles person. I think if he thought I was going to sell records, he'd let me remarry Richard.

Q There's this sense of community on the new album "Fashionably Late". You have musicians who are past and current members of Solas, Pentangle, Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span. John Wood is working with you. Nick Drake's string arranger is working with you. Had you kept in touch with this community over the last 17 years?
A Not very much, no. No, I hadn't, actually. I mean, I'd occasionally go to gigs and see these people. But I hadn't kept in touch very much. But they're the sort of friends, you know, that you can just pick up where you left off. You know, people like Dave Mattacks and things like that. You know, even if I didn't see him for ten years, it's just like we've just been together. Actually, I particularly love Dave Mattacks. He's a great guy.

Q And these musicians lend "Fashionably Late" this timeless feel. The producer is a gentleman named Edward Haber. I've seen his name -- I saw his name on your retrospective "Dreams Fly Away." So where does Edward Haber fit into this record?
A I've known Ed for ages. I mean, I met him when I was with Richard. I mean, he's -- I think the best word to describe Ed is, he's a musicologist. You know, he's like insanely knowledgeable about British music, particularly Irish music. But, you know, he loves the genre. I don't know how we got in touch again, but we somehow did and decided we'd, you know, do some demos together.

Teddy Thompson with Rufus Wainwright

Q Another song on the album is called All I See. A bit bluesy. Rufus and Martha Wainwright on backing vocals. And this song was written solely by your son, Teddy, who also sings on it. When Teddy writes for you, would you tell him if there were certain lines that you didn't feel comfortable singing?
A Oh, no. He'd already actually written and recorded this song, but I was mad about it. No. Hey, Teddy's like Harold Pinter: "Don't change a comma." He doesn't like people to change his lyrics.

Q "Fashionably Late". What a great title. How did you come up with the title of the album?
A My son, you know, just comes up with these great, great titles. And I was thinking -- I can't even remember the ones I was thinking of using. You know, all deeply pretentious rubbish. And he said," "Fashionably Late". You've got to call it "Fashionably Late"." And it's -- it was one of the best things about the record, actually, you guys.

Q The title?
A Yes, the title.

Q A lot of this album was recorded in America. Do you live in the States and is that why you recorded a lot of it here?
A No, Ed lives in the States. And when we started this project, we were doing it for ourselves. You know, paying for it and stuff. And I really didn't envisage anybody buying it. Ed did, you know. You know, good old Ed, he was optimistic about it and believed in it. But I just thought, well, we'll just make it. We're going to be out of pocket, but I'll have a record. So he lives here and he has access to a studio here. So I'd just come over here and stay for a few weeks, do a couple of tracks or whatever and then go home for six months. Although it didn't actually take a lot of time in studio time to make the record, it took years, you know, three years or something because we did it so sporadically.

Q Where is home?
A London.

Q Linda, your voice is such a natural force. And the way people talk about it is very, well -- Time Magazine simply said, "Linda Thompson may be rock's best singer." Rolling Stone's new review of the album got very flowery. And I was wondering what your musical upbringing was like. When did you realize you had a gift to sing?
A Oh, I think it was in the Girl Scouts, the Brownies we called it. You know, I sang a song… Tammy. But none of you will remember it. You're all too flipping young. And I sang and everybody was quiet. And I thought, whoa, that's good. So I guess about then, 11 or something?

Q And I know you did a couple of 45s, what we called 45 RPM records.
A You had to bring up the 45s, right? Insisting on putting the nail in my coffin.

Q I'll skip past them quickly. But shortly afterwards, you lived with Tim Buckley, you had a crush on Nick Drake. What was it like in those years before you teamed up with Richard, running with that crowd and playing clubs like the Troubadour? What do you remember about that?
A Very little. I was in a permanent haze. But no, it was great. I mean, running around with Tim Buckley and Nick Drake and Bob Marley and -- you know, we were all on Island Records, you know, so I was always playing pool with Bob Marley, him and his huge spliff and you know, (he) was playing pool. It was incredible times. But I didn't think any of them -- you know, who knew? I didn't know they were going to be legends, you know.

Q Well, like Tim Buckley and Nick Drake, you have sung some of the saddest songs on the planet.
A That's true.

Q And then -- inside the cover of One Clear Moment, you're smiling in the photo with a rose in your teeth. And in the booklet of "Fashionably Late", you're showing off your "Mum" tattoo and you're posing with painted toenails. I mean, you're fun! So how do you reconcile this darkness in your songs with the playfulness of your personality?
A I think it's the same with a lot of people who write songs or singers or -- you know, comedians are famous for being very funny people and being incredibly miserable. And I'm kind of the opposite of a comedian. You know, my work is incredibly miserable and I'm actually a barrel of laughs.

Q Someone once told me the cure for the blues is listening to the blues and then you get happy. So maybe it's a similar --
A It works for me. You know, I mean, very sad songs make me very happy. I went to see the "Road to Perdition," Sam Mendes' movie the other night. It's a very sad, dark movie. And I was absolutely elated when I came out, because it was so good. So…

Q And your new album, "Fashionably Late", some very happy topics -- death, whoring, heartbreak…
A Oh, yeah.

Q One of the songs is the murder ballad Nine Stone Rig. Can you tell me just a little bit about it?
A Yeah, it's what's known as a sham ballad. People used to give ballads to Sir Walter Scott, a great Scottish writer, and say, "This was handed down to me from my great, great, great grandmother." In fact, they'd just written it. But Walter Scott fell for it every time. "Oh, yeah, an old song." So this is a sham ballad with a little bit added by me and a tune by Teddy. You know, full of the things that those ballads are about, murder, touch of incest. All the things that you should never do.

Teddy Thompson

Q Linda, on that co-write, Teddy's name gets listed first. And on others, yours does. What's the difference?
A This is all Ed Haber, who's pedantic to the point of lunacy. Like, if I wrote a little bit more of the song, he puts my name first. And if Teddy wrote a little bit more of the song, he puts Teddy's name first. So now you know.

Q In the '70s and '80s you did six records with your former husband, Richard Thompson. And there was only one or two songwriting credits for you along the way. Then on "One Clear Moment," you had a hand in writing seven songs. On the new album, you're involved in writing eight. Did you really only start writing a lot after you split with Richard?
A I did. I did. I mean, you wouldn't write songs either if Richard Thompson was writing songs for you. It's just he writes such good songs. So it's fantastic in one way, because you're singing this incredible material. And it's a bit hampering in another way because you think, well, you know, "bah-bah black sheep" -- you think you can't kind of live up to it. But you know, now I like to write songs for myself.

Q After "One Clear Moment" back in '85, you started a record in '88. And then you decided not to finish it. And now, here (in) 2002 you've made this record "Fashionably Late". What motivated you to want to sing again and be in public and play live and all that stuff?
A A lot of things. My youngest child started college and my mother died. My mother had been living with us and she died. And I hadn't -- I've mentioned my mother dying before in interviews and I've never gone doolally. Anyway, so I thought I'd get out of the house and do something. I miss my Mum.

Q Doolally?
A Doolally, which I found out yesterday is an incredible -- it's an English expression for going mad. And one of the technicians yesterday was Indian - on the radio show I did yesterday - and he lives in Doolally. And he told me the origin of the word is that when British Army officers went mad, they sent them to a lunatic asylum which was in Doolally. So my whole trip to America has been worthwhile. I mean, fancy finding that out.

Q What a revelation.
A So cool. What a revelation.

Q You were doing other things, though, in between, like theater and -- what, working with antique jewelry?
A Yeah, I was working with antique (jewelry) -- that didn't pan out at all because I kept buying the stuff and not selling it, you know, so I went broke. I'd buy it and think, I don't want to sell that. I like it too much.
But I did a lot of theater stuff, yeah, for the National Theater.

Q The song Ivona Darling, you and Teddy duet on. And this is a Lal Waterson song, but it evolved in a strange way, right?
A It did, because we were going to do a tribute album, a lot of people, for Lal, who sadly died. A great artist, Lal Waterson. And I was going to do a song and Teddy listened to the tape and said, "No, we're going to do this song. This is the song to do." And it wasn't finished. He said, "Oh, never mind about that, I'll finish it." So he did, and did a fantastic job of it. It just

Q Linda, I once saw Sean Lennon play with his mother and it was odd, as if he was taking his dad's place. So is it strange singing and writing with your son, Teddy, after so many years of working with his father, Richard?
A No, it's not strange at all. There's the same tradition in America, but in England, there's a tradition for thousands and thousands of years, families have sung together in the folk world. You know, maybe not so much in the pop world. But I notice it happening more and more. It just makes sense, you know, people who are related sing well together. There's a blood connection. The sound is better, somehow. You know, you have a timbre in your voice that works with -- you know, the only thing that's difficult is that he's -- you know, he's young and moody. I'm going on the road with a whole load of -- I think everybody in my band, if you add up their ages, that still doesn't come to my age. I swear to God. So I'm just going to have all these hormonal, spotty people around.

Q And you'll be enjoying it.
A I'm telling you.

Q We're going to hear a song that you and Teddy co-wrote called Weary Life. In the lyrics you talk about, well, your wild days before marrying and how wedded bliss can become weary. So let's talk a little bit about the wild days…right after you and Richard broke up. I've heard stories about you stealing a car and someone said you caused more havoc than the Sex Pistols. So what's the inside scoop on that little period?
A It's absolutely true. We were doing a club somewhere in upstate New York. And I trashed the dressing room. And the guy said, "We had the Sex Pistols in last week and they didn't make any kind of mess like this. They were complete gentlemen." And I mean, I ask you, dear listeners, how cool is that? You know, to be more destructive than the Sex Pistols?

Q And was that when you were out with Richard touring behind "Shoot Out the Lights," even though the two of you were estranged?
A Yeah. It was -- that was hysterical. Every time he walked by me on stage, I stuck out my foot so he fell over. I hit him on the head with a mic stand. In retrospect, it is insanely funny. And I'd love to have been in the audience, because, you know, it must have been really fun to watch. And I was always like three sheets to the wind. But at the time, I suppose it was awful, I guess.

Q I guess it made for a great record.
A Yeah, definitely.

Q In 1975, you and Richard joined a Sufi commune to explore Islamic beliefs. So after you guys broke up and you got a little wild, was that almost a reaction to all that discipline?
A Definitely. Definitely. For me, I have to state categorically, especially with the way the world is now, that it wasn't the Islam that attracted me, it was the Sufi aspect of it. You know, the Sufi saints and all that…the whirling dervishes. I just thought that was a great thing. But, hey, you know, uptight, over-educated, middle-class white people trying to do that, it doesn't work.

Q Well, where was the commune? I mean, what were some of the tenets of that lifestyle?
A Well, it was in Norfolk. A very remote part of England that you never want to go to. It's very flat and people marry their sisters and stuff. It's like -- it's weird. It's a very, very strange place. And it's sort of a magnet for all the weirdos. And so we all ended up there.
The tenets were if you're a woman, keep yourself covered up. And you've got to pray five times a day. You fast a lot. I could do with some of that now, actually. The fasting, not the other stuff. It's very disciplined. And in one way, having experienced that, believe you me, like being in a nunnery or being in a commune like that is, in some ways, the easy way out. Because if you have rules and regulations, your life's very easy. You don't have to think. So it's not a thing for a thinking person to do. So I sort of shut my intellect down, which was a mistake, I think.

Q That can be helpful at some points, though.
A It can. I mean, I'm always being accused by my nearest and dearest of over-thinking. In fact, my ex-husband came in to the house a little while ago and I had -- I don't know, the "Tao of Physics" or something on the table. And he said, "I can't believe you. You'll just screw up your head with all that bloody stuff you read." And I said, "Well, thankfully, you know, I don't listen to you anymore."

Q There's some photos of you in a robe and headdress. They made an impression on a lot of us. What did your parents make of it all? You were talking about your mum.
A Well, I think they were very sad. I mean, they sort of saw me turn from a very effervescent person into a very closed-off person. Because if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it 100 percent. So you know, I was very puritanical and I was an utter pain in the ass.

Q Weary Life is from Linda Thompson's new album "Fashionably Late". Eliza Carthy on fiddle and harmonies and Fairport veteran, David Pegg, on bass and mandolin.
We were talking about the mid-'70s a few moments ago. In 1974, when you and Richard were recording "Hokey Pokey," you began to have some vocal problems. Was that the first hint of the illness that kept you from singing for a while?
A No, actually, it started actually with "Bright Lights," because I was very pregnant and trying to sing. And now I've found out in the last few days, this incredible revelation -- Terry Gross gave me all this stuff -- that it's -- it turns out now they've discovered it's a neurological disorder.

Q What's the name of the --
A It's called now -- it was called hysterical dysphonia, which is an awful name. But now it's called spasmodic dysphonia. And it turns out I may have a little fold on my vocal cord. And if I do, they can take it off. So after 30 years…which will be incredible. You know, I won't have that to hide behind anymore. I'll have to get out there.

Q So that kept you from singing for a long time?
A Well, I mean, yes and no. I just found singing difficult. When I -- when I sing live, I think I get too into the song. I get too -- I get really sad when I'm singing. I wish I could be a bit more detached.

Q I don't think you should be -- not to the detriment of your health -- but that's why we all respond to your voice and what you do. So if you were more detached, we wouldn't get that. So you're just going to have to be a little uncomfortable so the rest of us can enjoy your voice.
A Well, you know, that is good to hear. That's good to hear because, you know, I sometimes get cross with myself for -- you know, I'm over-emotional.

Q Were there moments when you thought you'd never sing out again?
A Years when I thought I'd never sing out again. I mean, I used to go -- occasionally, you know, I'd go and see friends like Emmylou or somebody when she was in town. And I thought, I couldn't get up on stage again if you gave me millions and millions of dollars. I would not have done it.

Q There's a song on "Fashionably Late", No Telling, (that) sings of the healing power of music. Is that what helped you overcome this problem?
A No, no, no, it's not. I just wanted to do it. I spent a lot of time traveling and a lot of time being with my family and my mum, and I just wanted to enter a different arena. That's not to say that music isn't redemptive and healing and everything. It is. But it wasn't my main motivation.

Q We talked earlier about how your parents reacted to your experiences in the '70s. The next song we're going to hear from "Fashionably Late" is The Banks of the Clyde. It's titled after a river you grew up by in Scotland. Was it hard for you to go back there in song, since your mother only passed on a few years back?
A Yeah, it was quite hard. That song, I was at the National and we were between shows, a matinee and an evening show, and I just went into my dressing room and wrote the whole song down, which is unusual for me. So it was just kind of, you know, my life story sort of thing.

Q But it's not your life story. It's a song about whoring, isn't it?
A Well, you know, everybody is a whore to some extent.

Q Well, that's a happy-go-lucky relief from the songs about death.
A Yeah, that's right.

Q How do you invest your vocals with the same passion whether you're singing about a character or whether you're singing about your own life?
A It's just the only way I know how to do it. I know a lot of people that can sing very well standing on stage thinking about the Chinese meal they're going to have afterwards. I think that's nice work if you can get it. But I cannot do that.

Q There's six albums that you recorded with Richard Thompson. Many of them are considered classics by the critics, but I know you didn't enjoy a lot of commercial success back then. Did that help your art or was that a hindrance?
A I don't think it was either. I think it was kind of -- it was more upsetting for Richard than me. I think he would have, like most musicians, liked to have sold loads of records and made money. Speaking for myself, I'm a terrible old snob. You know, I like critical acclaim, which is a euphemism for "it doesn't sell records." But I like that. And I like the fact that almost any musician I like I can go up to and a lot of them will know my stuff. I love that. So whilst I have nothing against being rich...actually, I am quite rich, but -- you know…

Linda and Teddy with Jody Denberg in NY

Q The thing that's different now is that then, okay, it wasn't successful immediately, but the record sewed a lot of seeds, as you're finding out by meeting people and their reactions to all these songs. And not only did it plant seeds with people in their hearts, but it influenced younger musicians. There's a lineage going on -- younger musicians like Teddy, Rufus Wainwright -- that harkens back to what you did. It's just part of a chain, isn't it?
A Yeah, I hope none of them come after me with machine guns, that's all I could say. But that's very nice.

Q Well, at one point, you said that you didn't want to play small folk clubs as your career progressed. And I think you're going out on tour soon. What sort of venues will you play and what kind of band are you going to have?
A Be careful what you say because now I want to do small clubs. Now I'd rather play small clubs where you had to turn a few people away than do big venues where nobody'll come. So I'm very torn about that. I don't know. I don't know what kind of -- you know, ask Frank Riley. He's the guy that's booking the tour.

Q But there will be a band beyond you and Teddy?
A Oh, there will. There's going to be a young guitar player called Jason, my daughter -- my youngest daughter is going to come and sing. And Teddy and a guy called Martin Green, who's in Eliza Carthy's band. And she's very kindly released him for a little while. She said to him, "You go with Linda and do the tour in America." He plays keyboards and a fantastic melodeon and accordion player. He's a very traditional musician. And I like him a lot.

Q Are you going to play songs from your earlier days as well as the material from "Fashionably Late?"
A Sure.

Q Can you think of a couple off the top of your head that you might like to play?
A I think I might do Bright Lights. I think I might do Dimming of the Day. I might not, though. I'm basically -- I'm a crowd-pleaser. Answers on the postcard, please, and I'll -- .

Q Well, here's a vote for Dimming of the Day.
A Okay.

Q The song that ends "Fashionably Late" is called Dear Old Man of Mine. It appears to be written about your ex-husband, Richard. And co-written with your son, who sings along, along with Kamila. Both Richard's children as well. Recorded at Betrayal Studios.
A No, was it really? You're kidding me?

Q According to the liner notes.
A That's unbelievable.

Q It's such a naked, honest song. Were you hesitant to share it? Did you think about how Richard would react?
A No, he doesn't care. He's -- no, he really doesn't. I mean, Teddy's written songs about him. He doesn't get -- you know, other artists understand that you're just going to write what you feel like at that moment. And Richard wrote a lot of songs about me that I could have, you know, jumped off a bridge if I take…but it's a moment in time. And no, I didn't have a minute's hesitation.

Q I just want to thank you for all the music over the years and for sharing today and for the great new album, "Fashionably Late." It's wonderful.
A Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Thank you very much for having me.

(End of interview)