Clare Carter and Jospeh Osborne began making music one winter in Greenland back in 2008. The couple, who were travelling across the globe at the time, decided to try their hand at making their own songs. What started out as an experiment soon formed their debut album.

Under the name The Horn The Hunt, the Leeds-based duo have made four albums, with their newest, Wovo, released in March of this year. Over their four albums, they have wielded their favourite genres - alternative rock, electronica and pop - in a way which has become distinctly their own. Their new album moves away from the theme of the struggle and loneliness in a barren landscape of its predecessor to a realm about escape and transcending the things which trap us. Its texture is reflective and soothing with the combination of gentle synth arrangements and Carter's yearning vocals throughout.

Andrew Darley chatted with Clare in which she described how Wovo is about "the acceptance of being an outsider and moving forward to a new chapter." With this sense of clarity, she explained how art is an essential "lifejacket" for her, their intrinsic connection to the environment and the frustration between creating stronger records in spite of the increasing difficulty to be heard in the music world today.

Your last album Terrafidella was released in 2014 so there's been a pretty quick turnaround between it and this new record. Were you feeling really energized to jump straight back into recording?

The way we make music means there's always a constant creative flow. I write most of the music first, in the form of rough demos, then we set to work on crafting them into records. We'll spend time with our drummer in the studio, then Joe will do the bass and guitar and I finish stuff off with the synths and vocals. Then Joe will take over producing, mixing and mastering. So I just keep writing during this time, and more demos emerge which become the next album. But Terrafidella was 18 tracks long and our first record using all live instruments, so it took us much longer anyway. By the time it was released last summer, most of Wovo had already been written. We've always had day jobs, so it's not a simple process of spending a few weeks or months working on an album in the studio.

Terrafidella explored a woman's connection to the physical land, while Wovo appears to concern the idea of water and escape. Have you always seen how the emotional can be connected to the physical world?

Absolutely, I don't understand the world any other way. I'm quite primitive like that, everything is emotional, or has a personality - mountains, buildings, chairs, plants. I just can't see how 'feeling' only belongs to the human being.

Were the themes and sound of this album a reaction to Terrafidella?

Kind of, because I get bored easily and hanging around in Terrafidella was not really an option. Being lost and trapped in a desert is a romantic idea, of being a rolling stone - or tumbleweed through a canyon - and so there was a knowledge whilst I was making Terrafidella, that it was unsustainable. I think the sea offered a different kind of escape route, still lost but at least moving somewhere else. Also, aesthetically, Terrafidella was a bit of a bag of bones sounding album - dry and jangley - whereas we wanted Wovo to feel more fluid and saturated.

Although it doesn't come across as a concept album, the idea of water and the abyss does run through it. Can it sometimes be difficult to write around a theme when you begin to identify it?

No, it actually liberates me to know that a song belongs to a family. I'm a creative homebird in that way, I like the songs to have a house to shelter in together - like a bowerbird builds the theatre for his potential mate. The theatrical is always present in my ideas, but I'm never aware of the concepts until much later in the writing process.

Does location and surroundings bear a big impact on your writing style then?

Sometimes I think so, other times not. Often I ask, how can your environment not affect how you experience life? I grew up in the countryside, and every weekend come rain or shine we'd walk in the Pennine hills and the moorlands. But I've lived in the city for over 10 years now and it feels like I still carry the hills around in my chest, like they want to burst out all over the pavement. I'm sure my voice carries that rough, melancholy landscape into the music. Yet, our first album was made on a laptop whilst living out of a suitcase in lots of different countries - from the middle east to the arctic - so it has a very domestic sound, as I was trying to contain and display all these experiences in songs like ornaments in a living room. Then the second album, Depressor Jolie, was fashioned like a run-down theme park, because I was reacting to living in a city again; I felt trapped by the urban, the day-job and wanted drama, fireworks, success. It was like a status anxiety album. Terrafidella was the aftermath of all that thrill and attention-seeking, it was emotional wilderness and depression, being sucked dry by an inhospitable environment. Now, Wovo is about acceptance, of being an outsider and moving forward to a new chapter. All of this has been felt and imagined from inside a semi-detached house in Leeds over the last 6 years. Art is just a lifejacket for me.

One noticeable difference between this record and its predecessor is that it has a much slower, meditative pace. Would you agree this album is more reflective in sound?

Yes, I really did want to make something more relaxing or soothing for once - to soothe myself if anything! I wish I was better at it though, it's still up and down emotionally and aesthetically! A dark part of me would love to write an entire album that is one-dimensional or easy listening, but sadly my mind is too tortured for that!

How did you reach the album's title Wovo? What does it symbolize?

About halfway through writing, I could see that the nautical theme had emerged; all the songs had some connection to being in the water, or crossing oceans. I felt this need to leave the land and move underwater, to get lost and carried off somewhere. I needed a word that represented the feeling of just going under, before you get too deep, the transition feeling that occurs when you are right under the surface. Like with all my gibberish, I Googled it to check it didn't mean anything, but it's also an acronym for the world organisation of volcano observatories, which pleased me greatly as I'm a massive volcano worshipper!

Going back to the beginning for a minute, how did you two originally met and set up The Horn The Hunt?

The Horn The Hunt was formed during 3 years of travelling and living out of a suitcase, we just started writing together. But we've known each other since high school. Both Yorkshire village folk.

How have you managed building a creative and romantic relationship together? Are there compromises or boundaries you have to make in order for it to work?

We don't recommend it! But we're like fire and water, we have everything the other hasn't, so it's a perfect working relationship. Many people think that being in a band together must be a wonderful life, and I guess if you're successful and get lots of positive experiences from outside the studio then it is. But art is a fundamentally emotional pursuit, so when you throw your own relationship into that mix it can be dangerous. It's pretty much impossible for artists to separate their feelings from their work, and by it's very communicative nature, most artists want to share their music with lots of other people. From experience, it's getting more and more difficult to be heard. You would think that the more you perform and the better your records get, the more exposure you would organically grow and harvest, right? Nope.

Has the way you write music together changed over the years?

Yes, I think we've defined our strengths more, discovered what we're best at and sacked off meddling in each other's roles. I've definitely taken over the creative side of things, so it really is all my emotions and ideas nowadays. But without Joe there would be just acres of shit-sounding demos and no musical grace. There's no way this band is anything other than a 50/50 project. We need each other's skills and vision.

Back to this album, can you tell me about the cover image for the album? There's both an energy and a peace in it and reminded me a little of PJ Harvey's Rid Of Me album cover.

Yes, I can see the similarity to Rid Of Me, but I guess unlike PJ Harvey it's not a confrontational image. She's looking you in the eye, presenting herself as an object you shouldn't get too close to. Whereas I'm closing my eyes to the world and communicating through the water, becoming untouchable, getting lost. To me, it was supposed to represent a sense of birthing - to be in the process of creating - and not being an object, but in transition, changing, leaving.

Over the four albums your vocals have grown significantly stronger, especially in terms of how you project it. Can you yourself hear how it has changed?

Hell yes! I can't even bear to listen to the early albums because of how awful I think my voice sounds. I started singing relatively late in my life and didn't view myself as a singer until maybe a few years ago. Now I'm certain, but I'm only really at square one with it. I'm looking forward to hearing myself get stronger and flourish the more I do it and enjoy it. For some people it takes a while to find their true voice, especially if they haven't been acknowledged or encouraged to pursue it.

There is a desire to escape in Wovo's lyrics. There's references to an albatross and that there's "nowhere left for me to go". While making this album was there something you wanted to write out of your system or is it more of an overall need to transcend the things in life that make us feel trapped?

Yes, to all of that. Albatross sums up my life's pursuit for experiences, for not sitting round rotting on the sofa, watching or reading how other people live. My upbringing was always about moving, trying to find a better existence, mainly due to being trapped by financial constraints. Being an artist usually means you never have any financial security, what you have instead are your experiences - that's your gold. For me, life has been a very up and down journey, great highs and crushing disappointments. I work hard and thank the cosmos that I have love and a family. The world is terrifying to me, day-to-day existence is intolerable without creative outlets. It's always about expressing these feelings and constructing new worlds to escape deathly stillness, wherever that may be. Each album is very much a document of my life at that time. Wovo is definitely about letting go, moving on and into the unknown. Writing music, singing and creating albums is the only time I am truly content in myself. I have to do it frequently or I lose my grip very quickly.

There's a feeling of resolve in the second last song 'Life Is Movement'. Is this song about a clarity around the joys and struggles people experience?

Yes again! It's pure wishful thinking to imagine that by untying your boat from a harbour and cruising to somewhere unknown you might be happier than the comfort of your living room. But if you're fundamentally unhappy there, you have to move on, you have to find hope somehow. Even if it backfires, at least you've been somewhere in the process. My 85-year-old grandma refuses to give in to banality, the voyeuristic couch existence; she says the only difference between a groove and a grave is the depth. 'Life is Movement' is definitely about that - the beat is pushing you aggressively - don't resist the tide, you should jump when you're at your most afraid.

Have you got a favourite lyric from the album?

No, but it's the first album I've written where I'm actually quite happy with the lyrics. Happy as I could be anyway, as I find words don't do experiences enough justice most of the time. However, my favourite song from the album is 'Snake Charmer'. We touched upon something important making it; Joe just had this simple guitar line, I had a simple vocal melody of 2 parts, and we arrived in the studio with our drummer, Conor, and just told him to go for it, respond however. That recording is the second time we ever played it together. For someone who spends months labouring over a song, that's just magic to me.

Where does Wovo take listeners in light of your body of work to date?

Hopefully somewhere unpretentious and beautiful. Our first three albums document us trying to figure stuff out, find our feet in the music. I think Wovo is a more certain and honest album.

Do you feel that you're on the path of creating work that you want to achieve?

Always. It's a long journey. In a way it felt like Terrafidella was the birth of our identity as a duo and Wovo was like the second easier child. It was an absolute pleasure to write it. Of course there were hardships, pain, challenges but never any doubt; every song was sure and happy to be made. Right now, I'm writing a proper graveyard album, it's like funeral music or something - it makes me sick how depressing it is! But that's what's happening, you have to be for real. Hopefully we'll craft it into something exciting or maybe even comforting. After that album, there'll be something different, maybe a live album - we'd love to do that. There's just too much to explore out there, we're always thinking about making music.

Wovo is out now.