Tim Hughes speaks to model and singer Chrysta Bell about a decade-long process

Sexy, exciting yet strangely mysterious, Chrysta Bell seems to have everything going for her. This American singer, performer and model has captivated audiences with shows which combine feminine strength, theatricality and something more dark and haunting.

“I love hearing other people’s ideas about what my performance is,” she says in a soft Texas drawl, talking to me from the rain-lashed Portuguese capital, Lisbon, earlier this week.

“I just do what feels exciting to me, my body and my voice with the opportunities I’ve been given.

“I hope it is pleasurable, joyful and inspirational. But I’m not gentle. I use all the power within me, and I don’t want people to forget what I do.”

It is Bell’s edgy, enigmatic quality which attracted the attentions of filmmaker David Lynch, with whom she has recorded an album of electronic torch songs.

Lynch described her as “a sexy alien”, adding: “Chrysta Bell looks like a dream and sings like a dream... and this dream is becoming a reality.”

For Chrysta, the joy was reciprocal. “Not only did David Lynch give me the gift of reassurance as a solo artist, but he gave me a voice, a personality and an album,” she says. “It was the most important experience of my life and the work I have the most pride in by far. He made me realise that I am a singer.”

In a world dominated by stage-managed industry creations and TV talent show non-entities, Bell can’t help but stand out. “I just am myself,” she says. “It couldn’t be any other way. Also, when I model, I give away a part of me; there is no photo in which I did not open up as a persona, at least to an extent. When I work I need this authenticity, otherwise it feels false.”

When I caught up with her, she had just woken up “I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” she admits. “We are in the midst of a tropical storm here but I have a beautiful room and the rain sounds like applause. I’m having the strangest dreams about performing — but they are all being received quite well.”

After Europe, she heads to Britain for five dates, with support from Oxford art-pop band Candy Says. Bell returns the favour next Thursday, supporting the band for a hometown show at Oxford’s Holywell Music Room.

“I’ve never been to Oxford,” she sighs dramatically. “And I’m curious to hear about it. How’s the weather?

“I’m travelling to 11 countries and it’s good to have that excitement. I’ve got all sorts of romantic ideas. ‘Oxford, England’ sounds quite proper — I feel it’s going to be a good show.”

The show sees Candy Says, featuring the talents of former Little Fish star Julia ‘Juju’ Sophie Heslop, launching their debut album, Not Kings. Bell’s own album This Train, is released on Monday. The 11-track album is the result of a decade-long process of collaboration with Lynch, in whose Hollywood sound studio the record was created. “Yes, it was a long time,” she admits, “but it felt right. The kind of music we chose, the meaning of the lyrics, discovering my personality as a singer. It needed time, which we took.”

She says the pair hit it off from their first meeting, when they wrote a song. “We were introduced and he seemed affected by me in a special way. So he invited me into his studio.”

The tune, entitled Right Down To You, is among the high points of her debut album; a body of work which sees her at her most affectionate, provocative and disturbing.

“It was truly magical,” she says of recording. “David and I have an almost transcendental understanding when it comes to music. We hardly talk about what is emerging — it just happens. Something clicks when we are in a studio together. David comes up with a sound collage, adds a few lines, and right afterwards I think of the melodies to fit.”

It is those melodies which transform Lynch’s cinematic soundscapes into proper songs.

Born in San Antonio, Texas, Bell grew up with her mum, a singer, and her stepdad, who owned a sound studio. It was the perfect start for a budding singer. “Even as a child I was able to accustom myself to the oppressive silence of a vocal booth,” she recalls. “I find such places very scary. it is so quiet within you can hear your inner organs work. Initially, this would scare me but my stepfather stilled my fears.”

Her first break came when she landed a job singing TV jingles while still a child. By the time she was 13 she had branched out into musical theatre, and then became a member of the RCA swing band 8½ Souvenirs.

She has since performed alongside Willie Nelson, Brian Setzer, Donovan and Adrian Utley of West Country trip-hop band Portishead.

“All of it was exciting,” she says. “But none had convinced me to see myself as a real singer. It was a hobby; an interesting opportunity.”

It was the distance between her Texas home and Lynch’s Los Angeles studio which dragged out the sessions for the album.

“I was excited and happy each time he said ‘Come on over’,” she recalls. “His studio, with all these vintage instruments and blinking apparatus, was like a protective cover for me, a refuge in all the rush of LA, where I could rid myself of everything and truly be myself.

“There was never any question this would be an album,” she goes on. “That’s not what it was about. It was about the process and about the experience of these special moments when our creative genes hard-wired.”

It was only recently, just months before the album was released in the US, that Lynch raised the possibility of publishing her music.

She says: “First, I was scared but then I thought it would be a shame not to — given all this work. I owed it to David to turn it into an album.”

The album ranges from soft to rough, engaging to enigmatic — just like her stage shows. There is an overriding sense we, the audience, are being manipulated.

“My performances do stand out,” she says confidently.

Yet, despite the impression of control, she admits to a girlish insecurity.

“I am finding my feet,” she admits. “I am beginning to like being on stage even though there are nights when this is still a challenge.

“Artistically, I am just now growing up. But it is a beautiful process. I can’t believe I’m doing this and that people come to watch. It’s blowing my mind, and every cell in my body is committed to it.

“Should I record another album, though, it should not take another 10 years. Because I’ll be an old wrinkly woman by then and certainly nowhere near as exciting as people find me now!”

Chrysta Bell and Candy Says
Holywell Music Room, Oxford
Thursday, April 10
Tickets £10 from candysays.bandcamp.com