As a young girl in Norfolk, England, Beth Orton led a double life. While her older brothers were out at punk rock shows, she busied herself by writing poetry and playing their guitars. It wasn't long before songs, rather bewitching songs in fact, began to blossom. By the time she started socializing with electronica pioneers William Orbit (who brought Madonna into the future on Ray of Light) and the Chemical Brothers, her art had fully matured. Collaborating with the progressives, Orton's unique voice began appearing on very cool dance records. In 1997 she decided to unite her own melancholy folk tunes with Orbit's techno atmospherics, and with the release of the gorgeous Trailer Park, the secret was out: Beth Orton was a very special artist.

On her third album Daybreaker, the 31-year-old singer extends the mildly mysterious, somewhat ethereal sound of her previous discs. And she invites a few ringers to help her navigate another minefield of broken hearts and poisoned affairs. There are new pals mixing with Orbit and the Chemicals: Ryan Adams, Emmylou Harris and ex-Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr all make their way into her twilight world. VH1 recently had a chance to speak with the singer, and here she is discussing her loathe-at-first-sight reaction to Adams, why the sky is so inspirational, and how Pop Stars is the best thing to happen to underground music in ages.

VH1: You grew up listening to punk records that your brothers had, so what was it that enticed you about England's early '90s dance scene?

Beth Orton: It wasn't really that exciting to me... I was interested in Saint Etienne and Primal Scream. Primal Scream unnerved me, almost scared me. One of the records my parents had when I was growing up was the Beatles' Revolver. That scared me, too, because it was the sort of music that makes you want to hide behind the sofa. You're completely intrigued and want to know more about it, but not sure you should. At the same time, I met [dance producer and Madonna associate] William Orbit and we became friends. I wasn't really into his music ... it was too pop for me. But I really liked hanging out with him. He got me to do some spoken word, and then I had a few drinks and started singing.

VH1: Was that the first time you'd sung in a studio?

Orton: Yeah. He made a demo of it. I stumbled into dance music. The Chemical Brothers heard my early stuff with [London acid jazz trio] Red Snapper, and asked me to sing with them. As this was going on, I was becoming passionate about writing my own songs. It was funny: as I worked with dance producers, I was writing acoustic songs.

VH1: Which makes your whole "folktronica" thing seem so natural.

Orton: I wasn't one thing or the other while growing up, either. My brothers put me down as a whimsical girl imagining fairies, writing poetry, and not living in the real world. But I knew stuff they didn't know. I was living this other life. People always have secret lives. I finally became known for [being] the person that was told to shut up all the time.

VH1: So you showed them.

Orton: I never even meant to, I swear. I don't think it was my intention ... maybe subconsciously.

VH1: What drew you to Ryan Adam's music?

Orton: There is a beauty and wisdom in his voice that I heard on [his 2000 solo debut] Heartbreaker. I thought he must be about 40 years old. I was really attracted to the crack of his voice. His words and melodies seem very original. Rather than hearing it with my mind, I heard it with my heart.

VH1: Did the two of you click when you first met?

Orton: I thought he was an ass when I first met him. No offense, but I thought he was a cocky American. I don't think he would be offended by that. Then we got in the studio and he was wonderful.

VH1: Any truth to rumors of a romantic liaison as well?

Orton: All anyone needs to worry about is what they hear when they listen to the music. It was definitely a very strong musical connection, which is obvious when you hear the songs. I immediately connected to his song "This One's Gonna Bruise."

VH1: It sounds like something you might have written yourself.

Orton: That's why he said he wanted me to sing it.

VH1: Did he write it with you in mind?

Orton: Um ... I think he wrote it about another girl, but with me in mind to sing it.

VH1: Growing up in England during the late '80s, you must have been a fan of the Smiths. How did it feel to work with Johnny Marr?

Orton: They were everywhere; you couldn't get away from them growing up in England, especially in a small town. So, I had this kind of love/hate relationship with them.

VH1: Had you ever met Johnny before?

Orton: No. When I first met him, I really liked him as a person - we got on really well and we were talking, talking. Then I asked him, 'So, what do you do anyway?' I didn't know who he was! I was chatting with a friend, then we started chatting with him and it turns out it's f*cking Johnny Marr! I thought, 'Oh, f*cking hell!' We were staying in the same hotel and we ended up sitting on the balcony one night, a couple bottles of wine, a couple guitars, singing and playing our hearts out.

VH1: What goes through your mind when you're suddenly playing with one of the most revered guitarists of your time?

Orton: It's almost disrespectful to be with a person and start thinking thoughts like that, because they're a person. I have to deal with them as a person and how the music is touching me at that moment. But that night, that particular moment was blowing my mind.

VH1: You met Emmylou Harris on a Lilith Fair tour. What was the initial connection?

Orton: Her spirit, the way she came up to me and introduced herself and didn't make a big fuss, just sweet and lovely. The way she carried herself was so dignified. She's a really good example of a woman.

VH1: Have you ever felt that what you do with folk is sort of like what her partner Gram Parsons did with country rock?

Orton: Maybe. I don't know. If I said that, it would sound horribly arrogant.

VH1: England's 'Pop Idol' show has infected these shores. What do you think of the idea of stardom as conferred by a TV audience versus how you've honed your craft and garnered recognition?

Orton: I think it's pretty disgusting. Celebrity for celebrity's sake is nauseating. I want my stars to be like Elvis Presley, to be up there for a reason - because they're achieved something artistically, some otherness that I couldn't achieve. But, everyone has the right to be a star and experience their 15 minutes of fame. I think the sad thing is that these days, everybody wants what they want for the wrong reasons. On another level, the rise of this pop idol thing is good in that it will pay for underground artists to rise up.

VH1: The album's tone makes it seem like you spend a lot of time creeping around in the woods.

Orton: One of my main inspirations is tying together emotion and landscape. I see them as the same.

VH1: At least four or five songs on the album also have lines about ominous skies. What is it you're seeing out there?

Orton: I look at the sky a lot. I often sing looking at the sky. I like to sing high up, on rooftops. Sometimes, I just wonder what the hell's out there? When you're young, they always tell you God is up there, and there was a time when I didn't like him very much. Maybe that's the vicious sky. Some of the album is ecologically minded ... we do have a vicious sky right now.

VH1: Your music makes it sound like the kind of person who gets their heart broken a lot and breaks quite a few hearts in return.

Orton: Yeah [laughs].

VH1: Are you just that unlucky in love?

Orton: I don't know that I've had bad luck in love. I think I've experienced some brilliant love, I just think that I have high expectations.

VH1: When you write so much and so passionately, does everything become fodder for your songs?

Orton: I have been aware of that, but I'm not into experimenting with people I meet. I think that's a dangerous road. True songs come from true-life experience, not from orchestrating situations that will breed inspiration. I have to be honest.

VH1: Which is why it's not hard to imagine you situated in the events of Daybreaker's "Paris Train."

Orton: I have lived my songs and my songs live me. There are some things that are sacred. Relationships with other people are private, and if aspects of them are revealed in songs, that's only for me to know. I don't even know if the other person would necessarily know.

VH1: Do you purposely obscure them?

Orton: I do.

VH1: So, there aren't a bunch of your boyfriends out there sitting in a pub gritting their teeth when your songs come on?

Orton: No. But there was one boyfriend who used to go on about how they were all about him and how he should have a writing credit. I told him to f*ck off.