Courtney Barnett talks 'crazy year,' surprise Grammy nod

Years before she was a best new artist Grammy nominee, Aussie rocker Courtney Barnett cut her teeth as a musician in Melbourne: playing open mics on weekends and finding odd work.

"There were some pretty character-building jobs," Barnett, 28, says. "I delivered pizzas. That was fun, but it could be punishing: turning up to scary houses in the middle of the night where you could possibly be killed. Then handing out surveys on trains and annoying jobs where people don't want to talk to you."

Fast forward to 2015, and plenty of folks want to chat with the breakout singer/guitarist, who in March, released her critically adored debut, Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit. Earlier this month, she surprised with a new artist nod for the 2016 Grammy Awards, which will be held Feb. 15 in Los Angeles.

Barnett is joined by Meghan Trainor, Sam Hunt, Tori Kelly, and James Bay in the category, and learned of the nomination through her bandmate's Facebook feed after landing in Australia.

"It's been a crazy year, so it's just another huge thing that I have to process," Barnett says. With any luck, "more people will see my name and some of those people might listen to my music and some of them might like it. It's great. That's the aim: to get people to listen to my stories."

Sometimes I Sit is Barnett's first full-length album and follows three EPs released since 2011. It's named for a quote by Winnie-the-Pooh author A.A. Milne, which she spotted on a poster in her grandma's bathroom.

"It seemed like a good reflection. A lot of the songs come from sitting around, pondering the world," says Barnett, who describes herself as introverted and shy. "I spend a lot of time sitting with my (journal) open, tapping my pen on it and not writing anything; just letting everything wash over you and figuring it out as it comes."

Drawing comparisons to Courtney Love, PJ Harvey and Fleetwood Mac, Barnett is characterized by her slacker sound and dry delivery — often rambling about minute details and relatable feelings in her lyrics. On Nobody Really Cares If You Don't Go to the Party, she indecisively laments, "I wanna go out, but I wanna stay home." In Depreston, she feels suffocated by house-hunting in Melbourne's suburbs; and in Kim's Caravan, she rails against damage being done to the Great Barrier Reef and environment.

One of Sometimes I Sit's angriest songs, Small Poppies, finds Barnett at the height of a personal crisis, wailing, "I don't know quite who I am, oh, but man, I am trying." It's an angst-ridden sentiment that has translated to all sorts of lofty designations by the media: the New York Post dubbed her the "next Bob Dylan," and Billboard, "music's Lena Dunham."

Being called the voice of a generation, "I take it with a grain of salt," Barnett says. "You can't take it too seriously. People just need to write about something, so whatever makes a good headline makes a good headline. But it's always interesting to have songs connect with people in different ways."

Traversing the globe for the past two years on tour, Barnett has relished hearing stories from fans about how her songs have affected them. She recently left an indelible impression on one New Zealand woman in particular, who had Barnett's signature tattooed after meeting her.

"She was like, 'Can you sign my arm? I'm gonna get it tattooed this afternoon,' " Barnett laughs. "I was like, 'No, you're not,' and then she sent me the photo. It was kind of funny."