"It's all about hope," Margaret Cho says, explaining the genesis of her new album of music, Lucky Gift. "Hope brings you to a new space of understanding." 

Released in February, Lucky Gift deftly explores the nexus of hope and vulnerability. Through her endlessly charming vocals and indie-inspired guitar chops, the GRAMMY-nominated comedian and singer meditates on everything from the fragility of life, to challenges like addiction and abuse that destroy mental health.

And while Lucky Gift's subject matter might seem heavy for the bold comic, Cho has always delighted in the unexpected. Whether in her soul-scouring standup that first gained Cho recognition in the '90s or her outspoken political views, the San Francisco native has never shied away from speaking the truth. Eight years after releasing her Best Comedy Album-nominated American Myth, Lucky Gift highlights Cho's compassionate sincerity and musical core.

Read more: What's So Funny About Music's Biggest Night?

At the record’s center are a set of songs dedicated to those tragically taken from us too soon. "Funny Man" honors the legendary Robin Williams, a comedian Cho performed with and befriended; "Baked Bread" is a tribute to voice actor, bandmate and friend Gerri Lawlor; and "You Can Be You" was inspired by Nex Benedict, a nonbinary teenager who took their own life after being bullied. 

However, Lucky Gift is filled with as many soaring moments, where Cho taps into ‘90s guitar heroism and full-throated joy. The record features charming hits like the burnished "Wheels of Gold", the chugging "90s Sisyphus," and a cover of art pop auteurs Freur's "Doot Doot " — a glistening and twitching track that perfectly suits her lithe voice. 

By fully enmeshing her impassioned perspective with vintage power pop and Lilith Fair intensity, Cho has produced a deeply touching record that far outstrips her musical exploration to date. "I’ve finally figured out my own kind of musical voice," she says, a beatific smile evident in the tone of her voice. 

On the eve of a 24-hour national "economic blackout," Cho spoke with GRAMMY.com about finding her musical voice again, honoring lost loved ones on Lucky Gift, and how intertwined her comedic and musical skills have become.

It’s so good to speak with you, even as the world feels as if it’s on fire! It does feel good to have people organized together on the economic blackout, though.

I think that's really great. I think that's helpful. I've had an economic blackout since the election. I have had to break it every now and again to buy essentials. I have a lot of animals, so there's stuff I have to do, but still, to not spend is actually a really cathartic thing. I mindlessly spend all the time.

I know! It feels invisible. I'm like, "I didn't spend $13 earlier?"

Those transactions, it's so seamless that you don't even notice.

What are we doing to this world when we are just so convenience-focused? We're convenience hounds.

I know! It's great to question it. Questioning it is the beginning of figuring out how we can have both. We can have convenience and we can also have sustainability. We can have equal rights and humane conditions for workers, and a way to still have what we want and need.

But anyway, let me ask you about your amazing album. I know you as a musician as well as a standup, but I’m sure that there are plenty of people who get surprised each time you release music. Does it still feel strange that people have that reaction?

I think it's fun to come at art in a different way. I was making things that were like comedy music, and now it's very changed. I finally sort of figured out my own kind of musical voice. I love that people are excited about it and listening to the music, which is so, so gratifying.

I think people are more open to artists exploring different creative lanes. And it’s not like these songs were ideas that could’ve been standup and you just so happened to make into music. There’s clear intentionality and specificity.

Thank you! You can communicate so many different ideas with music. You can actually just enter people's consciousness with different kinds of instruments, different tones, different expressions, and different ways of singing. I'm glad that it got there.

What you were listening to in your formative years? There’s a lot of sentimentality to the album, and the music from our youth always will hold that same feeling.

A lot of Everything But the Girl. Tracey Thorn’s voice and how they shifted; they were almost bulky and then they became electronic, which I think was a very stunning change. Their work is incredible, and it’s a love story that they’ve been together as a couple making music and making a family for all this time. And then Björk I love as well; Tori Amos, all the women of the ‘90s, anyone that would have been on Lilith Fair wearing a slip dress and holding a guitar. I love that aesthetic.

That era is such a comfort as well. You did an incredible job of capturing some of those great ‘90s guitar sounds without the writing feeling derivative. It felt like an introduction to you in this moment. As you were writing, were you considering things like influence or inspiration, or were you able to just feel out the songs?

I never write with an impetus to put it out. I write music and I play music every day and it's not for anybody except for myself. Then there's certain songs that I think, Oh, you know, I would like to share this. Or if it's a collaboration, it's something that I'll bring to [guitarist] Roger Rocha or  [singer/songwriter] Garrison Starr — two people I worked with on this record — and then they'll complete my sentence for me. They'll fill in the gaps. Or they'll write a bridge, which I will always hesitate writing a bridge.

Well yeah, because that’s the hardest part of writing the song.

They’re very good at that. I'm so lazy. I just want the song to be only verses, no chorus, no bridges. [Laughs.] I'm so really weirdly rigid about my songwriting. It's hard to think about adding elements.

But that's why I love working with other people. I never thought of putting out songs. For me it’s like, Oh, this is to scratch my itch. And then if it actually becomes something I really love, I'll think about putting it out.

That feels gentler to your brain as a creative as well. Unless you've got a team of writers that you are working with, I suppose comedy is more of a solo endeavor than how a musician usually works.

With comedy, it's just me; me and the audience. Their opinion matters more than mine. The audience is kind of the other collaborator. In music it’s me and then some other songwriters that I sometimes collaborate with, which helps me tremendously.

And then I'm trying to figure out what that looks like for touring, but I'm doing shows in L.A. now. I just did a show for Largo, and then I have a show at the GRAMMY Museum coming on April 1. So, yeah, there will be shows in the future. For me, it's really special and exciting. I love to tell the stories of the songs, too, because that's the comedy.

There are some people like yourself who somehow have the magic to excel at both comedy and music. I'm also thinking about Steve Martin, Bo Burnham, Matt Berry.

[Matt Berry] is a genius. I love him. 

And in my mind, there's something to that pacing and that element of surprise that you have in comedy, the way that you have to control that audience, that connection. Do you see your music skills benefiting your comedy and vice versa?

They drive each other. They're both rhythmic. You use syncopation. You use percussive speech and thought. It's very similar.

Are you able to work on the two art forms in the same general time frame?

If I'm on a comedy tour, I'll write demos for myself, and then I'll listen to them, just the music, and try to write melodies on top of that. I don't tour with guitars anymore. I just have my voice notes and my memory. But ideally, I would love to travel with instruments and do it all.

There are multiple songs on Lucky Gift  honoring lost friends. It’s so beautiful that you were able to broach that challenging topic. How was it for you to share that love and appreciation with the world? 

I think it's wonderful to work with that strong emotion of grief. It's a really inspiring place to write from, because sometimes words aren't enough. 

You have to bring in music and bring in the feeling of that person. "Funny Man" is like my "Candle in the Wind" for Robin Williams. The idea of this sad person that was just so loved and so funny and just never quite could express the sadness, there's just so much beauty in that. I was really grateful to be able to write that song. It’s also to all the funny people that I've known, myself included, who just had issues with their own mental health. Being funny often is a trauma response.

And then "Baked Bread" for Gerri [Lawlor], she was just the most hilarious person. I was in a band with her and we stayed together since we were kids. She always informed my singing and was a big part of my musical life. Just an incredible person.

Then there’s also the song "You Can Be You," which honors the life and passing of Nex Benedict. I’ve always seen you as someone wise and dedicated to positive change. We even just started this conversation about the blackout. How important was it for you to put that track out knowing the current political landscape, which is attacking people who don't adhere to the gender binary?

That's one of the newer ones that was written really recently to talk about all of the terrible things happening to the trans community, the non-binary and gender nonconforming community. It's a very horrifying thing. We have to stand by the trans community and make sure that we stick together. I wanted to write that for young people who are just starting their journey.