Her first EP, a support slot with Gracie Abrams that saw the California-native venture to the UK and Europe, and a smattering of headline shows all conduced to a year filled with realisations, maturity and acceptance. 'Goose' arrives as a result of that, a five-track exploration of Alix's world in full, technicolour detail.

The fresh-faced Alix we meet on the cover of 'Old News' no doubt had a tendency to linger in what could have beens and what still might be – envisioning what things might turn out like when she's 25, lamenting that things "haven't changed all that much / but I'm dying to". It seems her wishes came true – having gone through the classic early twenties rites of passage (read: getting bangs), she emerges with a new perspective that affords her sound a newfound richness, too. More assured, more willing to see her own faults, more final; the Alix we're re-introduced to on 'Goose' is set to slide out of her comfort zone and address everything head-on.

Still, that haze of the past lingers as thick as ever. Now, though, Alix has the lessons she's learnt to help her to navigate that heavy mist. On 'Goose', the narrative has changed.

"A lot of the times, I get confused when I'm missing home or missing high school," Alix recognises. "Do I actually miss them, or do I literally just miss high school and pre-COVID times and my hometown? '4Runner' is the thesis of that battle. 'Automatic' acknowledges that no, we're not going to do this again, we can't. 'How Could I' in the same way is very realistic and lays everything out super truthfully. It's acknowledging: why would I do that to myself again? There's definitely a battle there of what feels comfortable and what just feels familiar."

There's a fine line between the two, and at times the EP reaches for the uncomfortable amidst that familiarity. '4Runner' revels in specificity, remembering someone with vivid detail and likening them to the kind of old faithful car that eventually runs its course – so much specificity, in fact, that the release was somewhat nerve-wracking. "Namedropping the neighbourhood in LA and the model of car, I might as well have said the person's name," Alix laughs. "But once it's out and done, it's not your secret anymore. It feels good."

Another facet of Alix's musical world that has quickly become both familiar and, at times, unnerving is her own authenticity and honesty. Currently in the throes of balancing finals and college classes with tours and EP releases, a journalism elective sparked a conclusion about the reasoning for even doing all this in the first place.

"We've been thinking a lot about the truth and what that means. One of my professors was an investigative journalist, who has a Nobel Prize for his work in Ghana. He's insane. Someone asked him: are you ever afraid of what you're going to publish for fear of people's feelings or exposing too much? He said he thinks honesty is the highest form of loyalty and telling the truth is that. I realised I have a job to do, and it's a loyalty to my fans and to myself to tell the truth and always try to speak from the heart. I think that will sit with me for the rest of my life, truly."

The truth she tells always seems to resonate with her fans, luckily. A legion of thoughtful and sweet listeners, who even brought party hats to a show on Alix's birthday last year, they're living these moments in tandem with Alix a lot of the time. "I wouldn't want to have any other fanbase than young girls who have gone through the same things and appreciate the same things."

Thankfully, Alix is here to put those very same things into words – the title track is an immediate transportation into this sentimental, but sensible world. 'How Could I' worries over visiting that same neighbourhood she namedrops on '4Runner', running back into old habits. Though that urge to revisit recurs, the sonic world of 'Goose' is expansive – 'Goose' leans into a surprising cocktail of "Bruce drums, Sheryl Crow beats and Alex G twinkly guitars", whilst 'How Could I' is a resolutely lulling combination of lightly plucked chords and barely there piano. 'Toothache', however, is a shattering conclusion likening cavities to a gut-punching heartache – the mostly stripped-back, forlorn track descends into a drum-heavy expulsion of the emotional remnants the EP has left behind.

It's a combination of tracks that on paper seems an odd mix, but the careful honesty of Alix's lyricism and of course, her distinctive vocals, bring the EP together. Making the EP, she brought a host of new faces onboard – from Mary Weitz and Cameron Hale to Andy Seltzer and Brett Kramer, there was a lot more experimentation for Alix. "It's been really fun to explore and figure it out. I've stepped into more of a co-producer role and I've been really specific about what I want and my vision. It's been really fun to see that finally come to fruition.

That vision she wished to be brought to life is, at its core, a piece of Alix – a statement of her growth so far, and her growth to come. There's no shyness or regret, just a commitment to being true and honest despite what may come of it. This is a snapshot in time for who Alix is right now, and to bare witness to that is a pleasure. "I feel like with me what you see is what you get," Alix concludes. "I'm never going to be the popstar to put on a costume or anything. It's always going to be me at the forefront of it. For that reason, I feel like it always has to come from me and from the truth. Even though it is scary, I think it's worth it and I wouldn't have it any other way." ■