In Atlanta, Georgia, where she still happily resides, Becca Harvey - better known as girlpuppy - has long been refining a sound that's equal parts confessional and brimming with cathartic energy. On her new album 'Sweetness', the 25-year-old singer-songwriter pulls the curtain back on a more intense side of her artistry. She's had a steady rise since emerging during the lockdown, but in many ways, 'Sweetness' feels like a fresh start, one shaped by heartbreak, self-discovery, and a desire to make music that can finally speak in her own unfiltered voice.

When we chat, Becca has just finished babysitting, a nap and taking her partner to the airport. Relaxed and content with her day-to-day activities, it's a disarming glimpse of someone whose life has quietly changed in profound ways over the last few years. Having first got the music bug in early childhood, she didn't know if she'd become a bona fide musician or if these early daydreams would ever lead to a career. Everything shifted in 2020.

"I first realised I wanted to be a musician when I was pretty young, maybe around 6 or 7," she explains. "In 2020, I had a lot of free time because of lockdown. Luckily, I was in lockdown with someone who could produce music, so I started making it then, and the rest is history!" That period of forced stillness compelled her to examine songs she'd quietly harboured for years, turning them into the delicate, folk-infused pop that defined her earlier releases. The seeds planted in that first wave of creativity would sprout into 'When I'm Alone', her debut album, released in 2022, but back then, she could only experience success through screens. She'd feel the real weight of it later, on stage.

"I think when I played my first show is when it suddenly felt real for me," she says. "Because I started releasing music during the pandemic all I could see is streaming numbers, but seeing people actually come to shows and sing along was a surreal feeling." Live gigs gave her the rare chance to connect with fans on an emotional level, something she'd been missing in an era defined by social distancing. From there, the opportunities gathered pace. She ended up opening for artists she deeply admired and, in a somewhat mind-boggling moment, discovered that Father John Misty was already aware of her. She even had an opportunity to speak with The National's Matt Berninger.

"The amount of heroes of mine I've met!" she says, marvelling at the singular highlights that have peppered her journey so far. "I got the opportunity to interview Matt Berninger for the Creative Independent. I met Father John Misty at a music festival, and he was familiar with my work. I've opened for so many of my favourite bands. I feel very blessed." While the string of fortunate encounters and festival appearances marked an exciting first chapter, it also set a dauntingly high bar for whatever would come next.

That "next" is 'Sweetness', a record that demands attention from the moment it starts. Harvey describes it, with typical matter-of-factness, as a chronicle of heartbreak and growth in the wake of a split from her partner of four years. "'Sweetness' is about the feelings before, during, and after a breakup." It's an intriguing contrast that sums up the album's approach - sugar-dusted in places but brimming with emotional heft just under the surface.

This new collection took time to come together - years, in fact - and she wrote it while grappling with anxieties about whether such a prolonged gap might cause people to move on to something else. "It took about three years in total to make and start releasing," she recalls. "I loved the process. It felt very cathartic to me because I use songwriting as journaling, and losing a 4-year relationship comes with a lot of expected and unexpected grief."

That introspective method underpins each moment of the record, capturing her unfiltered emotions in real-time. With production by Alex Farrar - who she sings the praises of - the album's sessions in Asheville, North Carolina, provided a kind of creative retreat. She roped in close friends, letting them wander in and out of the studio, each leaving their own small imprint. "I feel very grateful that my dream producer, Alex Farrar, produced and mixed this record, and I had the best time working with him at his studio in Asheville, NC. We had a lot of friends in and out of the studio to help, so it feels full of love."

Still, that lengthier-than-expected hiatus between albums weighed heavily on her mind. The fear that fans might lose interest became its own kind of fuel, pushing her to create something bolder, louder - and far more emotionally raw. "I think I put a lot of pressure on myself by feeling so bad about the amount of time between the first and second record being released. I convinced myself that people would forget about me, which honestly helped me make a record I'm extremely proud to share."

So how does 'Sweetness' differ from her earlier material? The shift is instantly evident when you compare the spare, folky elegance of 2022's 'When I'm Alone' with the heavier, fuzzed-out guitars and sharper lyrical angles that define her new work. "It's definitely more of a rock album," she says. "I think 'When I'm Alone' was very folky, which I love, but I definitely came into this album with a lot more anger, which resulted in heavy, gritty guitar tones and cunning lyrics." There is a tension at the heart of 'Sweetness' that sets it apart from her debut - an undercurrent of frustration and heartbreak that demands a more dynamic sonic palette.

She channels that tension powerfully in the singles that have been unveiled so far. "'I Just Do!' was one of the last songs I wrote for the album, and 'Since April' was one of the first, so they're total opposites," she explains. "I wrote 'Since April' pretty immediately after my breakup, and you can tell how sad I was when I wrote it. 'I Just Do!' is more hopeful because it's a love song about someone new." That neat encapsulation of heartbreak and renewal mirrors the larger arc of 'Sweetness', which moves between vividly detailed post-breakup laments and pockets of tentative optimism about the future.

Where once she was primarily recognised for gentle, folk-leaning pop songs, she's now exploring deeper, heavier textures that reflect her evolving headspace. It's telling, too, that 'Sweetness' was conceived more on her own terms. She's been open about sometimes feeling overshadowed in her early days, but now there's no second-guessing. It's her voice, her direction, and her own brand of heartbreak.

Sonically, the record also takes a step into expansive territory that references a wide array of influences. Longtime fans may spot nods to her love of introspective singer-songwriters (Elliott Smith, Leonard Cohen) but also a new rockier edge reminiscent of alt-pop and dream-pop luminaries. Underneath it all, there's her knack for weaving wry humour into heartbreak, stitching in inside jokes and wincing recollections of past relationships that simultaneously amuse and devastate.

Of course, this is still the same girlpuppy who lights up at the thought of playing to real, live audiences, seeing new fans sing her words back to her. Post-album, she'll be bringing 'Sweetness' to various stages, and the momentum from her previous touring spells - where she opened for beloved indie and rock acts - suggests these new tunes will find an eager audience. There's a sense that, at 25, she's fully stepping into herself, equally at home with reverb-soaked guitar solos as she is with the confessional lyricism that got her started.

When asked to reflect on what she hopes listeners will experience when pressing play on her new songs, she circles back to the emotional honesty at the heart of the project. Writing these songs was a way of working through pain and self-doubt, so perhaps hearing them might give someone else a mirror for their own heartbreak. She's unguarded in her response, and, in a sense, that openness defines her: part indie-rock rebel, part introspective dreamer, fully committed to letting her music speak the truth of who she is.

Time will tell what fresh heights 'Sweetness' can reach. For Harvey, the real miracle is that she's here at all, thriving in the wake of heartbreak, forging new creative paths, and continuing to surprise herself with how far she's come from those lockdown days in 2020. As she puts it with a laugh, "the rest is history" - and now that history includes a bracing, guitar-driven second album that bares her soul and never shies away from life's bitter edges. If 'Sweetness' sounds more forceful than anything she's done before, it's because, finally, she's ready to make all that heartbreak her own. As she says herself, "It's called 'Sweetness' because it's my most bitter record" - and that's exactly what makes it so compelling.