Serial Thriller

Author Unknown- HQ Magazine Nov/Dec 1997

Deborah Conway likes to make moves that hijack her sense of belonging. She enjoys the way a new place impinges on her music. “I’m not very comfortable with being completely stable with my living,” she admits.

In 1995, she packed her bags, her baby, her partner and her artistic intent and headed for the UK. She wasn’t coming home until she’d made the record she wanted to make. Which is My Third Husband, a sensuous, velvety, pop-imbued thing.

Back in the comfort zone to showcase it with partner Willy Zygier, she piles on the jabberwocky. “It’s a slithering record, don’t you think? A circumference record … not a diameter record.” And the title? Conway has been waiting for this. “I’m married to my work, but I like to fuck around,” she intones, Mae West-style. “I’m afraid of commitment.” This would probably be news to Zygier? She relents: “I’m speaking nonsense. We’ve been living together six or seven years. We have a child. Hey, we hired an architect once.”

Still, she has always wanted to trot out that phrase, “my third husband”. Such an Elizabeth Taylor thing. “To actually make that commitment three times! You’re either a serial romanticist, a serial optimist or a seriously bad judge of character.”