Song Deconstructed: ‘Wild Geese’ by Tessa Rose Jackson

Tessa Rose Jackson: “I like moving between abstract imagery and specific detail in my lyrics.” Photo: Bibian Bingen

The loss of a mother combines with thoughts of birds soaring high in the sky in this poignantly personal reflection

Tessa Rose Jackson is a Dutch-British singer, songwriter, and composer whose work moves between folk, chamber pop and cinematic electronics. She first emerged with Songs From The Sandbox in 2013, then spent a decade releasing boundary-pushing records under the name Someone, including Shapeshifter and Owls.

In January 2026, she returned under her own name with The Lighthouse, her third studio album, written during a period of isolation in rural France. The record examines ancestry, grief and belonging with restraint and formal clarity. Here, Jackson steps inside Wild Geese, a Gallic-tinged alt-folk piece that addresses parental loss, situating the song within the wider ambitions of The Lighthouse.

INSPIRATION

My new record is an album about death. But don’t panic! When I think about death, mostly I find myself thinking about the beautiful chaos that we call living and how fleeting, confusing and precious it is. I was raised in Amsterdam by two mothers, and one of them died when I was a young teenager, so death has always been an unavoidable part of my inner world. I dedicated the new record to her, and a number of songs are about her, directly. This is one of them.

She was from Minnesota, a free spirit. Maddeningly stubborn and principled, side-splittingly witty, playful, bighearted – and deeply troubled. She struggled with the boundaries and conventions of society. At her funeral, we played Don’t Fence Me In by Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters.

“Let me ride through the wide-open country that I love / Don’t fence me in.”

These words will always linger in my mind when I think of her. She spoke of her Minnesota with such loving homesickness. I wanted to write a song in which I brought her back to it. In which I gave her all the independence in the world: the unbridled freedom of a big bird to swoop and dive and go anywhere she pleased without anyone telling her what to do and how to do it.

Tessa Rose Jackson: “Your true, unpolished you is by far the most interesting and exciting one.” Photo: Bibian Bingen

LYRICS

At the time, I had been reading a lot of poetry, and one poem in particular really moved me: Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. It contains the beautiful words:

“Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”

This immediately made me think of my mother. I don’t think she ever felt like she did have a place in the family of things, especially not towards the end of her life. But I wanted, in the song, to affirm beyond any shadow of a doubt: yes, you did. And still do. And so the image of wild geese, high in the sky, led me along the path to these lyrics.

Sometimes I direct my words to her, and sometimes I imagine they are her words, spoken to me. Soothing me, or teasing me. “When did we get so damn serious?”

I like moving between abstract imagery and specific detail in my lyrics. My mothers met in Amsterdam in 1973. I greatly enjoy the fact that this is woven into the song so explicitly. Even if nobody else will understand the significance of that year, I will.

In the bridge, I lean into the imagery of the wild geese fully. Allowing her to fly over Lake Superior, which she spoke of often, imagining the geese sheering so low above the water that it creates ripples.

The last verse always makes me smile when I sing it live. The idea of shaking off your own rules and restrictions like a big, bulky coat. And sewing yourself a better one, a lighter one. Your own personal Technicolour Dreamcoat, onto which you can stitch anything you’d like to carry with you. Like I have found a place for my mum to live in myself, carrying her with me in my daily life. “Stitch on what you find out, when you do / There’s threads of the old in the new.”

MUSIC

The song needed to feel very light, very airy. Totally weightless. It needed to be able to take flight, just like the geese. The songwriting process started with this little bass and guitar pattern and it felt so good to just play over and over. My partner, Darius Timmer, joined me while I wrote, sat down behind the piano and came up with that opening keys melody – which electrified me. I remember almost jumping out of my seat, I loved it so much. The vocal melody flowed out quite naturally, and I enjoyed feeling a certain conversational meandering to it. Just like the geese – unbound. Free flowing.

It was fun to use this imagery as a guideline for every little element of the song. One of my favourite moments is when it breaks from the verse, which has the same four chords on a loop, into the instrumental cello section where we move to an A major chord – a soft modulation that really feels like an opening up, a spreading of wings. That cello melody was my little Andrew Bird homage, the way he writes these simple, joyful little hooks on violin is so pleasing, and was a big inspiration for this melody. And again, the little tremolo in the cello part, to me, is a musical ruffling of feathers.

Tessa Rose Jackson: “I didn’t want to over focus on details and perfectionism.”

IN THE STUDIO

Bringing this to my band was so joyful. To record this album, I knew we needed to all disappear into a bubble together. So instead of recording in my own studio in Amsterdam, I had chosen a studio in France, near Biarritz, away from our daily lives. In the sunshine. Near the ocean. It was a magical experience that I will never forget.

Drums and bass were tracked together; they needed to feel so tight and so effortless at the same time, and Dave and Dan just nailed it. The vocals were tracked very quickly. I didn’t want to over-focus on details and perfectionism, but allow for it to be a flowing, human take without too much comping or processing.

The most exciting part of the production on this one was the guitar solo. Kevin van Moorsel, my brilliant guitar player, likes to joke that he doesn’t really play guitar – he plays noise. I think he is a true artist, a sound wizard, and the way he uses his guitar is totally unique. After reading the lyrics, he said, “How would you feel about the solo being a cacophony of different takes, all weaving in and out of each other, like a flock of geese passing over?” Obviously, I said I felt pretty great about that. 

We spent almost an entire day on the floor with Kev’s pedals as he created all the different chattering, screeching, squawking and lamenting voices that would make up this flock. We automated the different parts to appear and disappear into the thrum of noise. But one beautiful melody soars over the top of it all, a voice that is just a little louder and clearer than the other. Guess who that is.

FINAL THOUGHTS

This whole record has been a real coming of age for me. I went into the process wanting to create something very human and unpolished. Challenging myself to be vulnerable musically, sonically, lyrically… visually even. Many times along the way, I panicked and was very close to backing out, to covering up, to throwing the whole thing in the bin. Imposter syndrome loomed large. The skewed lens we point at ourself started throwing up self-doubt. And I’m so glad that I stuck to my guns. There is so much power in being vulnerable and it’s something I wish I had truly understood earlier in my life. It would have saved me a lot of useless anxiety and time. So, if there are any songwriters out there struggling with similar issues – feel bolstered. Your true, unpolished you is by far the most interesting and exciting one.

Tessa Rose Jackson’s new album The Lighthouse is out now, listen at https://hypeddit.com/h0rdd5

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