Karise Eden didn't arrive on the Australian music scene, she exploded. She raced across it like a shooting star, gobsmacking audiences with the power and range of her voice, which is the instrument of a big, black, mature, soul diva; it's a weapon that leaves jaws dropped to the floor, eyes teared up and minds blown.
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But Eden wasn't a big soul diva. She was a nervously giggling 19-year-old from the Central Coast, who had long struggled for confidence, and had taken the hard route - what she called "the ugly stick" - to fame.
As with most musicians of any substance, her overnight success came only after years of slog. But when her moment came - in her blind audition on the Nine Network's talent show The Voice in 2012 - it was a revelation.
"You're possessed. You made some deal with the devil to have that ... thing come out of you ... that's just incredible," was all The Voice judge Seal could say. Eden had just banged out a version of the classic It's a Man's Man's Man's World that had all four judges spinning in their seats to choose her - after she had sung just the first line.
Seal went on: "If you look behind you [this show] is called The Voice but I don't think there's been a bigger testament to that."
The judges were stunned by Eden's voice, but when they saw her their surprise grew. There was something unlikely about her, and what came out of her mouth. It was unlikely coming from a teenager from the Central Coast, and unlikely to be found on a reality TV talent quest.
But it was something more, too. We think about the other big names that have sung that song - Christina Aguilera, Seal, James Brown - and while their singing is fantastic, and makes you feel something, or at least marvel at their talent. It's not a surprise.
Eden's voice was so unexpected, and unlike anyone else. The only comparison is Janis Joplin, but Eden's singing is not derivative. It's all natural. And perhaps this authenticity was why it felt like witnessing a force of nature.
You got the sense she hadn't had much training, but was able unleash a voice so raw and powerful, it's like something wild had been let loose. You wouldn't say "Karise Eden impressed with her good performance", or Karise Eden "sung well". The words you reach for to capture it are those wild terms - unleashed, raw power, force of nature.
"This has never happened," says Delta Goodrem, about how all four judges chose her immediately and in unison after a single line.
Goodrem was right of course - because it happened in the first ever episode of The Voice Australia. So it couldn't really have happened before. But you could understand why Our Delta was reaching, clutching for some kind of perspective. She was lost for words.
If the whole show The Voice had been created just for the purpose of getting Eden out of obscurity and into a career as a recording artist, then that would be enough. Grizzled critics of reality TV talent shows pushed aside their cynicism and were hooked. Yes, yours truly.
Eden won that first series, as she deserved to, with performances that grew stronger as she went. The peak was her version of Stay With Me, a soul classic first recorded by Lorraine Ellison in 1966. It's since been recorded by Bette Midler, Sam Brown, Whitesnake, Duffy, Sam Smith, and Janis Joplin, whose voice Eden's most resembled, and who has clearly been Eden's idol at some stage. The young Australian's version left these luminaries in the shade.
But it was never going to be easy for Eden. And it never had been. She left home at 13 after a turbulent relationship with her mother, and lived for years in a series of women's refuges before being taken in by foster parents. While the strength of her singing spoke of an internal fortitude and resilience, she has known plenty of years with no self-esteem, habits of self-harm that she had struggled with since age 11, and being frozen by agoraphobia, screaming with no one being there to listen.
She wasn't a size 2 glamourpuss who got about in hotpants. Nor did she seem to be ruled by the ambition - or blind lust for fame - that would allow producers to mould her into the perfect celebrity. It was just about the music. So despite her enormous talent, there was always the fear, a sneaking feeling, that there still might not be a career for her in a music industry where sexed-up twerking videos and Autotune choruses often substitute for authenticity. Even though her singing was more extraordinary than anyone spotted on any talent show, we wondered how she would manage. Which seemed unjust given who succeeds and who doesn't in entertainment today. Redfoo. Robin Thicke. The Kardashians.
How would she cope with the obligations as The Voice winner, with an album pre-written for her, and non-stop tours of Westfield malls? Not well, as it turned out. Four shows into her tour, just months after winning The Voice, Eden suffered a total mental and physical breakdown, cancelled the tour, and disappeared from view. Meanwhile, her album My Journey shot to No. 1.
Now recovered, and back on the road with her partner and six-month-old baby Blayden in tow, she explains to Weekender how it all unravelled.
"I found that experience of The Voice, and winning, and all that, a bit stressful, and kind of collapsed for a bit there," Eden says. "But I think everyone understands me a bit more, and I understand the industry a bit more. Being able to take that back seat for a while, and build those friendships, and do that study, do that work to feel more comfortable with what I do - that eases it as well."
After she broke down, her record company Universal sent her overseas to get away and spend some time just writing music. It was just what she needed, Eden says.
"They were really supportive. They sent me over to London and Los Angeles. I wrote with some amazing people. I think in general, if you travel the world, you learn more. You become more well versed, your perspective grows.
"Especially at the age I was - 20, 21 - that's a crucial age for people around that age to be discovering things, and settling in and discovering who, what, when and how they want to be."
The result of these writing sessions was her album, Things I've Done, released late last year. Now healthier, Eden jokes things would be easier if only every breakdown was so productive.
"I've got an album to show for it," she says.
Writing the songs was vital. Part of the reason she broke down was that she felt like a fraud, suddenly famous and singing other people's songs in malls.
"In hindsight, that was really hard. Just feeling like I was a joke, in a sense, and a bit of failure, because it was fame made not of myself.
"You weigh it up and you think, what would you rather? Fifteen minutes catapulted to fame, or 10 hard years of doing things properly but making it as your own artist, which is hard, but you get more self-respect.
"I had been writing songs for a long time. Not necessarily good writing, but I got it out, you know? Might not have been a 3.5-minute pop song, but I was writing."
The other part of sudden fame is that everyone wants a piece of you. And because Eden's tough youth had become public, fans thought she could function as their counsellor, as well as their idol. People needed help, but they demanded it from her - how to deal with abuse, and revealing their self-harm. She was a singer, not a psychologist.
"It was pretty hard," Eden says. "You've got 13-year-old girls coming to you and saying 'my dad does this to me, and my mum does that, and I do this to myself because it all hurts'. It was pretty heavy. I'd get home from a gig and as part of my wind-down check my own personal Facebook, which is linked up to the music page, so you still get the notifications, and they'd be coming in from there too. I want to be the loving, honest person that I am, but you still need to put that wall up to protect yourself."
She has a good support network now, friends who know she "likes a yarn" and is taking care of herself.
She's proud of the new songs, which she says are "like a new baby you get to take home every day". And as for the real baby, he seems quite happy going along on tour, and even sleeps all through the night in strange hotels. Which means Eden is not living the rock'n'roll lifestyle she might have enjoyed years ago.
"It's a lot different these days. I think it's only for the betterment of yourself, really. We had some fun times . . . but I'm actually treating the work as work. Treating it a lot more seriously then going home to rest. Why? To look after your voice, to look after your work, and care for your son. I think there's a lot more value when you treat it like that, than as just a big, drunken, sloshed party."
So when you see Karise Eden play, be grateful she's there. People are complicated. And try and resist the temptation to call out for famous covers from the TV show - she's earned the right to sing her own song.
■ Karise Eden plays Anita's Theatre, Thirroul, at 7.30pm on Thursday, July 16. Tickets $49.83 from Ticketmaster.