August Gone: rebuilding yourself through Broken People

https://youtu.be/YhMgeLeJoWM?si=kT59It8QrwK6ESbO

For Jersey singer-songwriter Alexandra Le Monnier, music has always been a way of making sense of the things that are difficult to put into words. As August Gone, she channels alternative rock, grunge and blues into songs that refuse to shy away from the messier parts of life.

Her debut album, Broken People, arrives this November, and its ten tracks were shaped during a period of profound personal change. Written while Alexandra was working through difficult experiences and questioning who she was outside of a long-term relationship, the record became part of the process of rebuilding her life and finding herself again.

But Broken People isn't an album about staying broken. Its central idea — “damaged ≠ destroyed” — runs through both the music and its visual world, where stitching, loose thread, flowers and pins become symbols of repair, transformation and starting again.

Musically, the album refuses to sit still. Heavier grunge and hard-rock moments sit alongside more vulnerable songwriting, reflecting the different emotions that come with moving through change. That rawness has already connected with audiences across Jersey and the Channel Islands, with August Gone earning two BBC Introducing Channel Islands Tracks of the Week and headlining the local stage at Weekender Festival 2025.

Ahead of Broken People, we caught up with Alexandra. Here is how it went down:

Your debut album Broken People explores change, relationships, identity and rebuilding yourself. Was there a particular moment or experience that shaped the album’s overall direction?

I wrote these songs as I was gradually coming to understand my life and working through different struggles. Halfway through making the album, I made the decision to leave my marriage and rebuild my life. It wasn't planned; it came as a desperate measure because the emotional stress I was experiencing was having a real impact on my mental and physical wellbeing.

Broken People was born in the thick of that transition. It explores questioning who I am outside of a long-term relationship, finding myself again, and trying to understand what happens when you finally start choosing yourself.

I want to make music for people who have risen from difficult experiences without becoming bitter, people who understand the loneliness that can come with setting healthy boundaries and walking away from things that aren't good for you. Turning difficult experiences into something creative is the alchemist part of me.

The album has also shown me where I want to go creatively. I want to concentrate more on a contemporary sound while still holding onto the rock roots that shaped me. It's about evolving without losing the part of me that made the music in the first place.

And importantly, Broken People isn't about being permanently broken. Like kintsugi, it's about damaged, complicated people, relationships and flaws, and ultimately rebuilding yourself into someone more valuable, wiser and stronger because of what you've been through.

The record moves between heavier grunge and hard-rock moments and more vulnerable songwriting. How did you decide when a song needed raw aggression versus something more exposed?

I tend to let the emotion of the song dictate what it needs. Some experiences come with anger, frustration and a real need to release something, and that's where the heavier grunge and hard-rock elements naturally come through. There’s something very cathartic about being able to scream through a guitar riff.

There are still songs on the ten-track album that people haven't heard yet — Lost, Spit Me Out, Puppet on Ice and Not Addicted to You definitely veer towards the heavier side.

I think that contrast is important to Broken People. Life isn't one moment of rage, its moments of strength, moments where you completely fall apart, and moments where you quietly realise you're going to be okay. I wanted the music to reflect all of those sides rather than force the whole record into one sound.

The Broken People visual world uses stitching, loose thread, flowers, pins and scissors as symbols of damage and repair. How important was that idea of being “damaged ≠ destroyed” to the way you wrote the album?

My previous work, Obey Not, touched on this theme, and with Broken People I wanted to explore it further. My songs help me process the experiences and information I encounter and turn them into something positive — encouraging growth and doing the shadow work rather than hiding from difficult things.

The idea of “damaged ≠ destroyed” is central to that. This will also come through in the Broken People music video. Rather than a Frankenstein-esque idea of putting someone back together, the fabric person is rebuilding herself with new parts. She isn't becoming who she was before; she's creating something new, using prettier thread, rediscovering a lust for life and being willing to try something different.

You’ve already had two BBC Introducing Channel Islands Tracks of the Week and headlined the local stage at Weekender Festival. How has building your audience in Jersey and the Channel Islands influenced the artist you’ve become.

Building an audience here in Jersey and the Channel Islands has really pushed me to grow as an artist. Doing solo events recently has taken me out of my comfort zone, helped me progress as a performer and introduced my music to new ears, while building excitement around the album.

I’d really like to keep growing that audience and see more local venues supporting and promoting original music. There’s a lot of great talent here, and I’d love to be part of building that scene further. I really value the support I’ve received from BBC Introducing Channel Islands. Having that recognition has made me less afraid to go for what I genuinely love doing.

With Broken People arriving in November, what do you hope people take away from the album — particularly those who might see parts of their own story in it?

Pain, growth and healing are part of life. I think therapy, self-nourishment as well as self-awareness are incredibly important.

This album is a way of processing experiences and giving meaning to them. I’m not trying to tell people how to heal. I’m sharing my own experience. I hope it makes people feel less alone, helps them find a bit of strength, or gives them that sense of catharsis. If it does that for someone, then that’s why I think the album is worth listening to.