Julia Jacklinā€™s 2016 debut, Donā€™t Let the Kids Win, is a remarkably clear-eyed chronicle of the unease and uncertainty of being in your 20s.

ā€œI had a life in my head/Iā€™d be pushing up that hill until those toes bled,ā€ the Australian singer/songwriter laments in ā€œComing of Age,ā€ one of the recordā€™s fuzzed-out rockers. ā€œNow I gotta learn this new stage.ā€

Jacklin was 23 when she started writing the songs on Kids. Sheā€™s 27 now, with a slew of glowing reviews under her belt and a tour schedule full of venues that hold three- and four-figure audiences. What a difference a few years makes.

ā€œThere was a really scary period [in there],ā€ she says from a tour stop in England. ā€œI was playing in Sydney for five years before I made the album, and I made the album without a label or a manager or any contact with the industry at all. I came home and I had zero idea what to do with it. I had no clue. I was just kind of hoping someone would email me.ā€

Someone did, and that someone knew someone else, and so on, until eventually Jacklin signed on to release Kids through the London-based Transgressive Records. It became a surprise hit of 2016ā€”the Guardian called it ā€œone of those albums that will slowly creep into the affections of a large number of people.ā€

Jacklinā€™s music moves at an unhurried pace, meandering between traditional folk, indie pop, alt-country, roots-rock, and reverberant soul. Sometimes backed by an acoustic guitar and other times by a full band, her voice is a wonder: strong but supple, distinctive but cozy, teeming with tangible emotion. For a self-funded album made by someone suffering a quarter-life crisis, Kids is incredibly self-assured.

ā€œA lot of the songs were written from the perspective of knowing I was doing something I didnā€™t want to do, which was being at university and working,ā€ Jacklin says. ā€œI remember writing [the song ā€˜Motherlandā€™] and thinking, like, I donā€™t want my family to tell me ā€˜I told you soā€™ in five years.ā€

These days, Jacklin is winding down touring in support of Kids. Sheā€™s written new songs and will record her sophomore effort early next year. And as her career trajectory has turned upward, performing those old songs has felt, at times, like a ā€œcabaret actā€ featuring a younger version of herself, Jacklin says. That doesnā€™t mean the uncertainty has disappeared. It just takes different forms now.

ā€œAt the beginning, youā€™re worried that no one is listening to your music. But now Iā€™m worried that too many people are listening to my music, therefore the pressure on the next release is great,ā€ she says.

ā€œI think when I first started getting attention, I was like, ā€˜Aww, sweet. Sign this deal. Sign that deal. Get onto that festival.ā€™ And then Iā€™m gonna plateau into the comfortable happiness of being a musician,ā€ Jacklin says. ā€œNow Iā€™m like... thatā€™s definitely not a thing.ā€

Jacklin has learned not only to deal with the uncertainties of a career in music, but to appreciate them as a necessary tension that fuels her art.

ā€œI think the moment Iā€™m comfortable with this job, and the moment Iā€™m like, ā€˜Oh, okay, cool. This is what Iā€™m doing,ā€™ā€ Jacklin says, ā€œthatā€™s probably the moment Iā€™ll start writing shitty songs.ā€