"I've always had something to prove in America," says Pink (33), curled up barefoot on a couch. "The Grammys ... that was my moment. I waited my whole life for that. That was my 'A-ha'."
Despite a career fuelled by rebellion, pink hair and unconventional pop anthems - her latest jam, Blow Me (One Last Kiss), is currently topping charts - the gal born Alecia Moore still feels like she's cutting her teeth. And in a way, she is.
It's been more than a decade since Moore scored her first US No 1 single, 2001's Lady Marmalade, and since she's been reinventing the tough-gal formula that first got the party started with her debut, Can't Take Me Home, in 2000. That reinvention has seen her try her hand at rhythm and blues and punk sounds, hang upside down over a vat of water while singing Glitter in the Air at the 2010 Grammys, and become a mother.
But with her sixth album, The Truth About Love, Pink is offering more of her classic self: thrashing pop-rock anthems brimming with brash lyrics and confessional ballads. It's a return to her bawdy roots after her last album, 2008's Funhouse, showcased her heartache after separating from husband, motocross racer Carey Hart. The pair reconciled and had their first child, Willow Sage, in 2011.
Pink teamed with producer Greg Kurstin (Foster the People, Kelly Clarkson, the Shins) for the first time. He contributed a handful of tracks including Blow Me (One Last Kiss) - and called on previous collaborators Max Martin, Shellback, Billy Mann and Butch Walker. There are also guest spots, something she rarely does, from Lily Rose Cooper (formerly Allen), Eminem and, on the sweeping duet Just Give Me a Reason, fun.'s Nate Ruess.
Irreverent numbers full of punchy quips such as Slut Like You and Walk of Shame coexist with the intense vulnerability of second single Try, stunning closer The Great Escape and Cooper-assisted True Love.
"At the same time I wanna hug you, I wanna wrap my hands around your neck, you're an ...," she sings in True Love.
"But I love you, and you make me so mad I ask myself why I'm still here or where could I go, you're the only love I've ever known, but I hate you, I really hate you, so much I think it must be true love."
"For me, it's medicine," says Pink. "I keep journals every day. People ask me what makes me feel better, and I'm like [writing]. I just do it on a public forum ... poor Carey. I think he got used to it after a while."
The Truth About Love is her first disc on RCA, after a restructuring led to previous label LaFace, Arista, J and Jive being consolidated. RCA Music Group chief executive Peter Edge believes it's her best.
"She hasn't lost any of her fire or her daring lyrical elements. [Some of the album] makes you go, 'Ooh, this is an eyebrow-raiser'," he said.
"She's the real deal and she's proven that she can deliver a great pop song, but on the other hand she can sing anything she chooses to sing. And she does that."
Pink jokes that she's made a sport out of hurting the people around her, and while some of her tunes carry a sting, her uber-direct approach has turned her into one of pop's more down-to-earth role models. Her last singles, Raise Your Glass and F**king Perfect, an inspiring tune of self-acceptance, are durable numbers that tackle dark matter like depression, self-mutilation and suicide - definitely not typical top 40 fodder (though they conquered the charts nonetheless).
The tracks came from her first career retrospective, Greatest Hits ... So Far - a disc she was initially against.
"Those two songs were a blessing because I was supposed to be out of sight, out of mind," she says. "They kind of took off and that was the first time something good happened for me without a bunch of promo."
Pink has also blazed a trail for a generation of anti-pop stars including Rihanna, Katy Perry, Ke$ha, Lady Gaga and Kelly Clarkson. It isn't something she puts much worth into, though she thinks it's "great to see how many females are dominating right now." It's one of many talking points that make Moore laugh.
