Dress, £1,895, and jacket, £1,495, both Burberry Prorsum (burberry.com); purple ring, £64, Ottoman Hands (ottomanhands.com); remaining rings, Florence’s own

The True Artist

After the shoot Florence changes into a Jason Wu top, Camilla and Marc tuxedo pants, and Rupert Sanderson shoes – assembled into a sort of oriental look; part of the Wallis Simpson phase she’s slowly coming out of. We sink into a small, battered sofa in the studio, still surrounded by people. It’s far from ideal and it’s clear neither of us are comfortable about opening up in front of an audience.

“We do get on each other’s nerves,” she says, when I ask how it is working with her sister, who has just handed her a bottle of water. “It’s hard working with family because you don’t hold back. But I really will miss her. She’s like my best friend. But I’d rather keep that relationship than [ruin it with] a working one.”

How will Florence cope? “I don’t know,” she says. “It can be isolating.” I sense that this is not a conversation she wants to have in front of a group of people and we move on to the tour. She lights up. “With this record, with the set-up, with the band I’ve always wanted; it’s what I’ve always dreamed of,” she says. She’s prepared herself by keeping healthy, not getting run down. Is she disciplined? “I can be,” she says. “I can be really disciplined up to a breaking point and then I’m complete chaos. I’ll be really straight for three weeks and then I’ll be gone for three days, which drives my mum mad. I’m trying to find a balance but I guess it’s one way or another with me.”

How do musicians recover from hedonism? The same way we mere mortals do, with bed, food or movies? “All three,” she considers. “Or perhaps a movie in the bath; that’s my favourite thing.” After a brief discussion among the group about the health and safety aspects of this – “What about electric shocks? Where do you balance the TV? Or is it your laptop?” – we get back on track and discuss the fact that she’s known as a musician rather than a ‘celebrity who sings’… and she seems pleased.

“That’s nice to hear,” she nods. “When I first started, especially because I got the Critics Choice before I’d released an album, there was a lot scrutiny on what my character was, what my background was, what colour my hair was. I fought quite hard for the music to overtake the personality aspect. I didn’t want to become a personality, I wanted to be a musician, but because I didn’t have an album to stand by yet it was hard for people to see that. But now, two albums in, I’m happy with things.”

Her ethereal look and the storytelling side to her music has even been likened to Kate Bush, something she recognises herself. “I definitely have a strong sense of aesthetic,” she muses. “I’m a sensory control freak; what I see, what I hear. I’m restless and always want things to be perfect, magical or exciting. Things can’t be that way all the time so I’m constantly disappointed as well.”

With that, she distractedly gets up and puts her coat on and it’s clear our conversation is over. She’s off to rehearse for her performance of No Light, No Light at the Brits and prepare herself for a string of other commitments; the NMEs, the tour…

Florence Welch: Lost in music