It is tempting, when speaking to Regina Spektor, to just get out of the way, because she is such a joyful talker. I ask a simple question about, say, songwriting and I’m redundant for the next several minutes while she spirals off into a great conversational aria of anecdotes, aphorisms, metaphors, theories and jokes, at the end of which she apologises for not answering the question when in fact she’s answered not only that one but half a dozen that I haven’t asked yet. She has a talent for wonder.
“I have the kind of mind, I’m realising, where I almost get hypnotised by the world,” she says. “There’s a part of me that’s the immigrant chick: let’s get things done. And then there’s some other part of me that just floats off.”
