Hailing from Stockholm, Clutter is an alternative rock band that has already made a mark with their debut EP "Loves You," released earlier this year on PNKSLM. The quartet, featuring Emma, Hilda, Ove, and Ville, crafts music that blends youthful angst with a self-aware perspective on ambition. In this conversation, they reveal the inspiration behind their anthem "Superstar," born during a UK tour and shaped by their experiences on the road. As they navigate the challenges of balancing music with everyday life, Clutter’s authenticity shines through, making their journey relatable and their sound all the more compelling.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We’re Clutter, an alternative rock band from Stockholm, Sweden. We’re made up of four people, Emma (vocals, guitar, bass), Hilda (vocals, guitar, bass), Ove (guitar) and Ville (drums). We released our debut EP “Loves You” in April this year via the label PNKSLM.

‘Superstar’ feels like a perfect tour anthem, loud, messy, and a bit self-aware. How did it come together, and were you actually on the road when you wrote it?

The idea came for it while we were on the UK-tour with Hinds earlier this year. Me and Hilda sat in the back of the van listening to Pavement's “Range Life”, and then got the idea to write a song about our own experience. We finished it at home in Stockholm and wrote music for it together.

You’ve said it’s “a song for everyone who dreams about being a star.” Do you think chasing that dream still means the same thing it did in the 90s?

Maybe not…but to have a dream is important, it kind of keeps you alive. “Superstar” is our dream to write and perform our music, together as a band. But of course that looks different now than it did in the 90s, with social media and different expectations on artists.

Can you describe your songwriting process?

We usually start songs in the rehearsals with some guitar riff. Then me or Hilda comes up with a lyric for it, lately we’ve also written lyrics together such as “Superstar”. Then we write the music together and we often write a whole song before finishing it in the studio, where Ove produces everything and we record all instruments together while each adding input and ideas for the recordings.

Do you collaborate closely, or does each member bring individual ideas to the table?

We write all the songs together, often sitting in the same room. And of course we all come with different ideas, but all four have a part for the final result.

The visuals for 'Superstar' are quite striking. How did you collaborate with Henrik Luhr to create it?

We knew about Henrik's work before and really liked it. We had an idea to do something with a green screen and just like the video for “Jesus” wanted to include playing instruments. In the end we trusted his vision and the video turned out great!

How do you feel your sound has evolved since your debut EP, Loves You, and what has influenced that change?

“Loves you” feels in many ways as a compilation of everything we are as a band, at least up until the release of the EP. Some songs were written when we first started out as a band, such as “Kraut”. We’re now trying out new things, experimenting with more dual vocals and a playfulness in the songwriting. For the “Loves You” EP everything is written in the rehearsal space before recording, which we still like because it adds a “live-performance” feeling to it. But it’s been fun to try out other ways of writing - trying out ideas and sounds in the studio. 8. Can you tell us about any memorable moments from your recent UK tour with Hinds

that stand out to you?

Well…I guess you have to listen to our single “Superstar” to really get the feeling!! It was a memorable time overall, all the days seems blurred together looking back. One of the most fun nights was when we slept at Chemtrails (also on PNKSLM recordings) place in Manchester. We were all shy at first but ended up staying up a long time just talking in their kitchen and had a very nice time. The day after they had bought everything you can imagine for breakfast (Crumpets are my personal favourite, always used to look forward to those when I went to England as a child). Clutter loves Chemtrails!

How do you think your Swedish background influences your music and the themes you explore in your songwriting?

Stockholm is a very grey and cold city most of the year…with that said I love to live here - but the weather certainly makes it a bit depressing at times. I think you can see that in some of our lyrics, such as “Kraut” and “Jesus”. Stockholm actually has a quite vivid indie-scene right now, which makes it really fun to be in a band. It doesn’t feel competitive, everyone is so supportive towards each other!

What’s the atmosphere like during your live performances?

We always do our own thing on stage regardless of how the audience feels, I think that makes some people a bit uncomfortable haha. It’s really fun to play in Stockholm, as it’s our hometown and a lot of friends show up!

What has been the most challenging aspect of being a band?

Right now it’s not playing in a band in itself that’s hard, but more combining that with everything else in life…that would be different if we could do music full time of course - but as for now it’s getting everything together. We all have to work and study to make money and sometimes the scheduling is a bit challenging.

What do you love right now?

I was going to say I hate the cold frosty weather, but then Ville actually apparently loves it... Hilda loves blackberry marmalade and warm home cooked meals. Taking hot showers. We love hanging out with each other!

What do you hate right now?

That it’s freeeeeeezing here…and that it’s dark before 4pm. Classic Stockholm answers. 14. Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

We all have really different music-backgrounds, which makes it more interesting to write music together. I’ve always listened a lot to Pulp and I don’t think that will ever change, “This is Hardcore” is one of my favourite albums ever. Hilda, Ove and Ville are still really into Nevermind by Nirvana. And Hilda’s also recently listened a lot to Robyn's Body Talk, a classic!

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Maybe that the music actually means something for us as a band…? We’ve got something to say with each song and playing music is what we really wanna do. The songs got some sort of “teenage-angst” to them, even though we’re not teenagers anymore.

Emerging out of London’s ever-shifting underground, Black Fondu and his music seem to exist at a constant intersection of noise and melody. Near genreless in its free-float between scenes and sounds, the worlds captured on his debut EP BLACKFONDUSIM are  beautiful in their chaos. Beginning with a near hypnagogic slice of pop pastiche on ‘HOLLA BACK GIRL’, BLACKFONDUSIM is a slow descent into noise and emotion, finding new forms of beauty deep in the depths of distortion.

It’s a contrast to the raw emotive energy of Fondu’s live shows. Loud, brash, and brilliantly physical, he is a sight to behold on stage, evoking that rare sensation. The feeling that you're watching the next great star emerge from a cold, blinding night. While BLACKFONDUSIM may not carry that same immediacy, it's all the more brilliant for it. The EP stands among the year's best for how it revels in deconstruction beyond deconstruction's sake. Finding new worlds and horizons amongst the crackles and cries.

Sitting down with Black Fondu, it's apparent that the passion that exudes from his music exudes from him as well. The radical sincerity and raw vision that he possesses seem to crackle out of each answer. More than anything else, there's excitement. While Black Fondu might be early in his career, he's not letting that blind his ambition, but neither is he letting his massive leaps as an artist get to his head. Instead, it's crystal clear that to him vision and passion are what reign supreme.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you're from, and about the music you make?

Black Fondu: I’m Black Fondu, I'm based in South London, and I guess with my music I'd call it, like, post-music. My music is what's after music, if that makes sense. We're in that generation where we have every reference point, every type of music available. So, I think everything made within this generation is kind of post-everything, y’know

Is there any particular music you'd say Black Fondu is coming immediately after?

Black Fondu: I can't really answer that.

That's fair. So, you've got your debut EP coming out, how are you feeling about that?

Black Fondu: I'm feeling good. I'm feeling very excited for what's next. I like to say like Thanos (laughs), I'm collecting these stones for my own self. Releasing music has been difficult, and I'm finally getting a consistent idea of what I want to be doing and how I want to be doing it. This EP marks that transition. You know, in the sound and the direction.

Because you've been performing these songs for a while, have they, changed as you’ve performed them, from workshopping them live?

Black Fondu: I actually haven't been playing. a lot of the EP stuff. I played, maybe… three songs, actually, yeah, three of the 7 or 6, I forget. 3 of those songs I’ve been consistently performing.

It's been kind of the other way around, I think. All the stuff that I've got coming like, my first album, all those songs I would perform all the time. And in the recording process that changed. drastically because of how I performed it. But this EP, sits in a digital world, you know, It's a different feel. So performing it live. I find the recording even better compared to my other recordings. The recordings are so and insane, but the live show is hard to compete with.

I managed to see us at End of the Road, which was really, really phenomenal. You bring loads of physicality and movement into your performance. Is that, like, something that you think about beforehand, or does it just come naturally when you’re performing?

Black Fondu: It’s in the moment, traversing, expectations. I dislike how a lot of musicians will react to an audience, and then they'll change. But I like it to be you are the thing, and they're reacting to you, instead of you accommodating or thinking too hard about what you're doing.

It should just be the music, the music, the music. I find with my shows, I'm just reacting to my songs and people are there to just watch me and listen to the music, and hopefully dance.

Rather than you having to meet them, they've got to meet you in a way.

Black Fondu: Yeah, exactly, exactly.

I really noticed on the EP, that you have this balance between noise and pop, is that something that's difficult for you to navigate, or is it just quite intuitive?

Black Fondu: So, actually I used to really struggle with this. Even the idea of making a song I found so hard, because my brain isn't wired like that.  I just like chaos, and I like just everything to be kind of fucked. If I had it my way, you know, like I used to it was just straight noise and kind of intense. Maybe not so melodic, but I've kind of found my melody again. It was through making ‘Holla Back Girl’. I saw that transition in my sound. Where I could actually do that. It's kind of to do with ego. Not thinking you can do something because of your own idea of who you are. That's what I got rid of after I made ‘Holla Back Girl’, I kind of just realized I can be anything I want to be. I can make any music that I want to make so, yeah, it just comes naturally. Because I've let go of me, essentially. 

Speaking about noise is that something you consider doing  further down the line, making full-on noise music?

Black Fondu: So do you know Merzbow?

Yeah I love Merzbow.

Black Fondu:  So, when I was, like. 18, I was going through some heavy stuff and my friend Gabe who's in that band called Paper Hats. They showed me Merzbow, and I lost my absolute mind because it cured me of the noise within my head. So, I have this balance in my sound where the noise scratches an itch, but then there’s a whole other world I'm building as well, so the combination comes together quite well. So I don't think I'll be making only noise music.

I noticed in the press release you referred to the EP as an introduction to your worlds rather than world singular. Do you feel like each of the songs exists in their own world?

Black Fondu: I think each of those songs, as much as they're part of that idea, which is Black Fonduism, it’s just an idea. They are of their own world. How would I describe it? Maybe a song for every kind of person. You know what I mean? Like, there's not a particular sound running through it, like a singular voice, as in a singular emotion. Because they're all different emotions. I think there is gonna be, like. a feeling for every person to fall into.

How do you feel that London as a cityscape or the scene in London has shaped you as an artist and the music?

Black Fondu: I'm a third year now, but first year, when I first moved to South London I had a view in my accommodation of the shard, like, Canary Wharf, and all of that. And it influenced my music, believe it or not. Humans are sponges, we absorb everything and being in this kind of concrete jungle, this brutalist environment my music lined up pretty well with it. My natural influences from the environment affected my sound so much.  Very metallic tastes, y’know, I just view London as glass and steel and light. I've definitely brought that to my music.

You’ve been gigging a lot in London. Are there any venues in particular that mean a lot to you?

Black Fondu: Yes, actually, the windmill, obviously, because. Tim gave me a shot and here I am now, y’know what I'm saying. But I'd say one of my favourite venues is actually my friend's studio called Excelsior Works. I played his release show for the band Jawharp who've had a great impact on me, like, sound-wise. I've been very attracted to hardcore bands. It’s the noise that I've always been attracted to. And yeah it's their art studio, but they bring out a massive sound system, and we just get lit there.

Talking about local bands like Jawharp are there any other local bands or people you know of in the scene who’ve influenced your approach as a musician?

Black Fondu: I wouldn't say there has been a direct influence on my sound, apart from just bands in general being so fucking loud. That's the main influence on my sound from the scene. Just the loudness of these fucking bands, where I'm likenI'm making electronic and it's so digital. How do I get that loud? So, obviously, I went back to the basement after hearing a few bands and I made mine loud. Just so I can compete in the live circuit, because otherwise, imagine, a band comes before me, and I go on, and it's just a hundred times quieter. So I have to match that.

Do you feel like your goal at the moment live wise, is to get perpetually louder? To become the loudest acts in London?

Black Fondu: Yeah (laughs). The loudest act. I don't know if the sound systems can take that because I've already broken a few speakers in my time. I don't think that's the approach, because I think every sound engineer will probably put a cap on the loudness. I had an incident actually, where this sound guy, I won't say what venue, because I’m already blacklisted the venue anyway. But the sound guy had cranked the sound so loud that when I clicked play, it was just straight distortion. In the sound check, it was fine, and then for the live I clicked play, and I'm like, Fuck! And he told me to get on with the show and then I kicked down the monitor in rage, but that’s the most I've lost my shit on stage. So maybe not too loud. Just got into this, like, full fucking Merzbow.

What do you prefer, working in the studio and developing tracks in the studio, or performing live?

Oh, okay. Well, let me think, because, like, eve the recording, there's so many phases I go through before a song is done. Like, even I say I prefer the voice memo. I prefer the original freestyle, where it just came out of me, and whenever I listened to the OG Freestyle. There's a certain energy that it has. Obviously, it won't sound as good as the recorded version, but the original thought is always so hard. I prefer performing than the recorded because… I can translate that performance and the emotion of the song. A recording won't necessarily fully convey, because you can't see me and in the live show, you can see me. So you can feel that, how much I care, or how much it means to me as well.

It's kind of like the difference between when you listen to a hardcore punk record. No matter how angry they are, you don't really feel the anger until you see them live, and you're like, these guys are fucking angry.

Black Fondu: (laughs) Yeah, yeah, it's so true.

I read that some of your initial musical experience was pm piano learning classical composers. Do you feel like that's influenced your approach to songwriting?

Black Fondu: Oh, heavily. Heavily, even now. Even now, literally, the beat I made yesterday, I listened to it today, and I was thinking the arrangement is so classical, I was like, this is some real classical shit. When I was younger, I absorbed a lot of what my dad would call it high art, or what did we call it? God-touched music, y’know what I mean? Where almost the universe has intervened. Even Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson, I say God touched, y’know, like some high art music. Naturally I know a few things about the piano. I know a few things about theory, but I never used theory. Because I rejected it when I was learning it. I had to learn it to get through the grades, but I rejected it because it made me think of maths, and I was like, maths, I hate maths. So, I hated structure, but believe it or not, that arranging style has stayed with me, because clearly I liked it, y’know. So, naturally, when I arrange. I do everything that I want to do, and at the end, I listen, and I'm thinking. Wow kinda classical. Kinda classical.

Is there anything else you feel like you kind of soaked up when you were younger, musically, that's wormed its way into your sound?

Black Fondu: My mum is a good example of that. She'd be singing around the house all the time. But she wouldn't be singing songs like we know songs, you know, it's like some old stuff that obviously came through generations. It’s just these beautiful, timeless, childlike melodies. They kind of stayed with me, and I'm so attracted to that state, y’know, the child state. Because a lot of the melodies I'm drawn to are quite. child-friendly. Not too complex, melodically, y’know? I like melody to be easy to fall into. My brother also is one. He makes music, um, under the name OF CANAAN now.  But he'd be playing guitar and singing and I'd be there to hear it, to feel it, and it was always emotional, always deep, there's some real deepness to it. I think with my kind of music it has to be honest. It just has to be honest. That's what I've learned from listening to God knows how many hours of music. If the work isn't honest, you can tell, and that isn't timeless. There's gonna be some human energy to it, some really honest work. That doesn't mean that it has to be sad, or it has to be happy it doesn't have to be anything. But it just has to, like, have some intention. I'm getting all philosophical, but whether with thought or without thought it's honest, in my opinion, because that comes from within me. That's why I do it. I don't need to really question it. I just have a feeling, and then I'm like, I gotta do that.

I really get that just going with your gut directly with the art.

Black Fondu: Exactly, exactly.

I was watching over your music videos, and they're all, like, so distinct. They each have, their own distinct visual world to them. What inspires those visuals?

Black Fondu:  Basically I'll write a song and when I'm listening to it, whether I'm high or sober or whatever. I'll be thinking in my head about the feelings that I'm feeling, and suddenly, out of nowhere, I'll get images and I'll be transported into a new space, where the music exists. Foreach of these songs, I will close my eyes, and I imagine the video. Then I would obviously create that. i'm not sleeping’ with a different one, though because that came to me in a dream. I was having quite an overwhelming fucking dream where these Roman, sculptures were just flying into my face. In this void, like, black space, and they just kept coming in all these different poses, and it just kept increasing the speed. It got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore, and I just woke  up and then I asked myself, I said, why did I have that dream? And then I said it was pretty cool, though, like the textures and the idea that these things were coming towards me. So for ‘im not sleeping’, I did exactly that. I got all these different poses to come towards the screen in a deep void. So yeah, I get inspired by the subconscious that kind of drives the the ship.

We’re any tracks inspired by dreams that you've had?

Black Fondu:  Ooh, okay. You know what? There was this dream I had ages ago, which kind of inspired everything after that, to be honest. I used to have, like, so much self-doubt and as a solo artist, obviously it's just you, it's just me and my beats. I was about 18 or 19 a dream came to me where one of my favourite artists had invited my brother and I to his house. We went upstairs and he basically had his laptop out, and he clicked play, and there was, like, ten of us just surrounding him in a circle, and he went insane, like, the music was so good, and I was like, this is the craziest thing I've ever heard. And when I woke up, I was like, that new song is gonna be crazy, whatever he made and then I realised that I dreamt that, so it came from me. Maybe it didn't inspire a song, like an idea for a song but it did inspire my self-belief. I was like if that was in my mind, then I can really make that one day if I keep going.

What do you love right now?

Black Fondu: What do I love right now? I love going to sleep. Fuck yeah.

What do you hate right now? 

Black Fondu: What do I hate right now? I hate not being able to sleep.

Name an album you're still listening to from when you were younger, and why it's still important to you?

Black Fondu: There is one I actually have on repeat all the fucking time. Takeko Minikawa Roomic Cube. One of the songs I've just been, oh my god, it's called Destron. It's so beautiful. I guess that's my biggest inspiration, Takeko Minikawa or maybe just Japanese noise outright. It's like this abrasiveness, but there's some beauty, like, there's some real beauty and the way she sings and all of that, it reminds me of the Beatles, but really, really hard, like, it's so cool. Just her.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Black Fondu: That they're allowed to be y’know, the alien, like, completely authentically you. You don't have to be afraid to be yourself. Even though the world makes it so difficult for you to be yourself. I want people to take from it that we’re all aliens deep, deep, deep at the core, you know, very alone and very far away from everything. But that's okay, y’know. S maybe I want my music to be that kind key to that door. Just not to wake people up, but to make them feel more okay. It's okay to be fucked up, and it's okay to be crazy. That's literally the nature of nature.

Photography By: Jago Stock

drainfly make the kind of music that feels half-whispered from another room, half dredged up from the places you try not to look. Formed by Gwen and Ben after leaving the countryside for London, their world is one of folklore, discarded memories, soft hauntings and the strange comfort found in imperfection. Their upcoming EP, bracken of her bones, digs into that imagery even deeper, drawing on synaesthesia, old rituals, and the bracken that grows over us in life and after it.

In this conversation, the band talk about uprooting themselves from their rural beginnings, recording “plumber hours” in Lorenzo De Feo’s garden studio, the fairy painting that shaped their visual world, and why they’re committed to keeping everything handmade, messy and unmistakably human. They discuss community, London’s relentless creative energy, and the emotional weight their audience holds for them. And ahead of their EP release show at Windmill Brixton, they reflect on what home means, what they’re rebelling against, and what they hope listeners feel when they step into their universe for the first time.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Me (Gwen) and Ben met in Bath College and started this band ‘Afraid of the Dark’ which was an early version of ‘drainfly’. After we moved to London we changed the name when our flat was infested with the creatures. We like to say we hear the music from our drains, the songs become parts of us that we wash away, the dead skin, hair and dirt. Things that are forgotten and left behind, that return to us at our most vulnerable. Sam Black (bassist) and drummers Ashleigh Seager (and new drummer Jasper Gatfield) help us achieve this sound with an attentive back line, understanding the tone and range needed to tell these stories.

Can you share the inspiration behind the title 'bracken of her bones' and how it reflects the themes explored in your EP

The title comes from one of our favourite lyrics in our ending track “Yew”. There’s bracken that grows over us through our lives, prickling at our bodies until we disappear, growing over our bones when we die. That’s what the EP is about, the bracken.

How did your move from the countryside to London influence your songwriting and the overall sound of your latest release?

In 2022 when we moved to London, the first song written here was “Teething”. It feels like an ending to the kind of music we were playing before London, nostalgic tunes written in an empty house left by my grandparents who had passed away. The London scene shaped how we wanted our live shows to look, with more intensity and energy. The general atmosphere of London probably gave us all a bit more of an edge. People mean a lot to us; there are so many in the city but we’re endlessly disconnected from them.

What was the creative process like when collaborating with Lorenzo De Feo on the production of your EP?

The EP took around ten days to record and we worked “plumber hours”, in at 9 and out at 5, because the studio is in Lorenzo’s garden and his family would come home in the afternoon. He has a lovely space and great coffee. His production approach was to squeeze ideas out of us, adding spoken word and weird sound effects we made with a metal ruler in “bean-sídhe”.

Can you describe the visual aesthetic of your music and how Gaïa Havord’s artwork complements the themes of your songs?

Me and Ben have synaesthesia so how the tracks look visually drives us a lot. We want our music to have a strong unknown aesthetic, shrouded in mystery. Gaïa’s artwork has inspired us for years and we knew her fairy painting would be the EP cover. The artwork holds such intrigue and delicacy that we knew whatever tracks sat with it would be held with the same pathos.

How do you incorporate elements of folklore into your music, and why do you feel it resonates with your audience?

Being raised pagan and constantly in spaces of folkloric musical practice from a young age means it’s not something I think about too much. I take inspiration from folktales and rituals. I think people resonate with folklore because those stories express deep human emotions that are hard to put into direct words. London doesn’t feel especially ancient anymore, but its music scene still holds an important space for storytelling.

What role does the London music scene play in shaping your sound and connecting you with other artists?

The creative pool of musicians in London is like no other. So much talent and so many new ideas come out every month, it’s hard not to be swept up in it. You want to chat to other creatives and see how they’ve ended up making the music they make. It’s not just musicians; photographers and artists are making incredible work that feeds the scene too. We all bounce off each other.

How do you approach the balance between personal storytelling and broader themes in your lyrics?

It just comes naturally. I or someone I know will be experiencing some kind of extreme emotion and I’ll hear or read something that relates to it. It spirals from there into a song or poem.

Can you tell us about the handmade artwork created for your merch days and how it connects to your music?

The handmade artwork was a big aesthetic decision when we changed our name to “drainfly”. We didn’t want lazily made, retention-seeking reels or plain logo stickers. I think this generation is heading toward a rebellious art movement thanks to AI, and creatives will start making more art with human error to draw a line between human work and AI-assisted work. Cooking food and making drinks for friends while they help us make merch leans into that same idea. We use recycled lighters, bottle caps, safety pins, all with imperfections.

What are you most looking forward to about your upcoming EP release gig at Windmill Brixton?

The Windmill really reminds me of my bedroom back home, with its creaky floorboards, damp walls and brightly painted murals. It’s a space I don’t have anymore but can find in venues like this. We feel safe there. The gig is about celebrating and seeing all the wonderful people who’ve helped us get here. We’ve spent three years on this and we want to honour that time.

What does community mean to you as a band, and how do you engage with your fans and fellow artists?

Community is the backbone of most musical followings. Without it you get a disconnect between artist and audience. Our friendship group has played a big role in growing our gigs in London; they watch every act on the lineup and give them the same energy as us. It’s grown even bigger since our merch days, bringing in more creatives and supporters.

What do you love right now?

I love people. Music can be raw and painful, especially to the person writing it, and audiences hold space for that. It’s beautiful.

What do you hate right now?

I hate how disconnected we’re becoming. I wish music existed physically again. Instagram and TikTok shouldn’t need our time for success; their content means very little.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Me and Ben started the band because we loved Daughter. It has to be ‘Not to Disappear’ for that reason.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

I’ve never listened to our music for the first time so I don’t know what people should feel. Probably a bit sad, a bit happy, and a bit more connected to something.

Gladboy have always felt a little out of step with the present in the best possible way. Born in Norwich and now scattered across Leeds, London and Berlin, they make guitar music that slips between eras and attitudes, pulling from 60s swing, 90s scruff and whatever strange spark arrives in the moment. Their new single ‘Doin’ Art Badly’ lands as a rallying cry for anyone who’s ever overthought their own creativity, shaped as much by gallery shifts and scribbled posters as it is by late-night band practices.

In our conversation, the band talk about bad drawings, good mistakes, writers’ block, medical museums, and why sometimes the quickest idea is the truest one. They’re funny, self-deprecating and disarmingly sincere.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make? 

We are Gladboy and boy, are we glad to be here. We formed in Norwich and are now split between Leeds, London and Berlin. I’m not sure what we sound like, so I asked my partner: ‘it’s like someone got the 60s, put it in their mouth and washed it all around with 90s. They then spat it out onto some toast and left the toast underneath a disco ball’.

What were the most significant influences or moments that shaped the creation of your new single ‘Doin’ Art Badly’?

The track paraphrases a guy I met at my old job who really inspired me. I worked at an art gallery in Leeds and we had an artist from Detroit called Michael E Smith do an exhibition. One day, we came into work and all the lights were off, and all our stuff had been moved. We all thought it was weird. But it turned out it was Michael getting in the zone. We asked him why and his response was what kickstarted this song. ‘Art is trouble’.

How was the single produced?  

We’ve been a band for quite a while but haven’t released very much music. We always get very precious about mixes and faffing around with overdubs. If I could go back in time, I would tell myself to think less and act fast. We decided to record and release this before doubt could creep in. Maybe we were doing art badly all along!

Can you describe the creative process behind the song? 

In the last couple years, I’ve gotten really into doing graphic design - posters and stuff - but I found that the more I learnt about design, the more I started to hate my work. This song is about forgetting what you’re told and forging your own chains; whether that’s music, art, sport, or your day job.

Did it evolve differently than your previous work or follow a familiar path? 

I’ve had pretty bad writer’s block for Gladboy, especially as other projects I play in get more demanding creatively. I had the phrase ‘Doin’ Art Badly’ for a while, so this song wrote itself very quickly. We work very collaboratively, but it felt very reassuring bringing something to the band that I had control of. Since then, I’ve really enjoyed writing again.

How did your experiences at the art gallery in Leeds impact your songwriting and the themes you explore in your music? 

I’ve worked in galleries and museums for the last 3 years. I guess I hoped I’d find a subconscious link between that world and music. I currently work at a medical museum, so I do find references to surgery and anatomy creeping into my lyrics.

Can you share any memorable stories or anecdotes from the recording sessions for this single that stand out to you? 

I can’t remember the recording process at all, sorry.

Visually, what concepts or ideas are you hoping to convey through the artwork and visuals associated with this release? 

I wanted it to feel very amateurish and messy. I was trying - and failing - to draw the pattern from a painting by George Widener. I’m bad at drawing, so it felt apt for the artwork to be very doodly. There are also a couple nods to some albums I like: Organic Music Society by Don Cherry and Beauty and the Beat by Edan.

What role does community play in your music-making process, and how do you engage with your local scene in Leeds? 

We all play in about 5 million bands which is very much a reflection of the scene we’re in, and why we've been a little quiet the last couple years. Off the top of my head, we’re currently split between Fuzz Lightyear, Bug Teeth, Volk Soup, Cyclist and Sloyd Flenching.

Looking ahead, what themes or ideas are you excited to explore in your upcoming debut album following this single release? 

It’s a mishmash of our collective hive mind. Title TBA, but the one I’m drawn to is Village Piffle. It’s inspired by the Village People. Each member was a reference to a different segment of American identity: policeman, construction worker, Native American etc. It’s ridiculous and it mirrors the identity crisis our band has had. 

If we call it something else then you can forget that.

What do you love right now? 

Full fat coke. 

What do you hate right now? 

Coke Zero. Ipswich.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you? 

There’ll always be place in my heart for Arctic Monkeys. I used to tweet obsessively about Miles Kane and Alex Turner, as well as singing in a faux Sheffield accent (I’m from Essex).

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

It's okay to enjoy music made with guitars. And to hate yourself, as long as it's with love.

Brighton’s Goodbye are one of those bands that seem to appear fully formed but still buzzing with the energy of the rooms that made them. The five-piece grew out of the city’s DIY scene, passing through the Green Door Store as engineers, gig-goers, friends and, eventually, collaborators. Their debut single ‘Meat’ arrived this year with a strange, brilliant charm: raw and slightly feral, but carried by harmonies that feel warm and deliberate. It’s a song that manages to be tender and grotesque at once, and it immediately marked Goodbye as a band doing something a bit different.

In conversation, they’re thoughtful and chaotic in equal measure. Megan and Sarah spoke to us about building songs from half-formed riffs, finding confidence in the mess of early jams, and how much their community has shaped who they are. Before their upcoming Bella Union show and a busy 2026 ahead, we caught up with Goodbye to talk beginnings, Brighton, and the world behind ‘Meat’.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Megan: We are goodbye, we formed in Brighton, we all met through the grass roots venue Green door store and I’m not really sure what kind of music we make.

Sarah: We're goodbye (2/5 of us), based in Brighton UK. If I could summarise our music/vibe it'd be bittersweet grooves - 'throwing it back in a melancholy way', like that animation of Yoshi from Mario party 10. 

We love your debut single ‘Meat’. Can you share the story behind it? 

Sarah: Thank you! It's the first track the 5 of us wrote collaboratively as a 'jam in the room' approach. I love how janky and raw it feels as a first song.

The lyrics seemed to flow out of Wheeler in improv. I love the subversion of a dreamy song to be quite disgusting, taking a narrative of being offered up and objectified, like a cut of meat.

At first I thought this was super gory and weird, but singing these smooth harmonies and icky words alongside Meg makes it one of my favourites to perform. Opening a set with it always feels quite powerful.

Megan: It was one of our first songs we ever wrote. Probably the second oldest in the setlist. Elik (our drummer) wasn’t in the band yet. We were just jamming, playing with effects and things and then built this idea over a guitar part of Alfie’s, where he was panting around with one of his pedals. It was meant to just be a jam but it developed into a full song. 

How did recording at Unwound Studios with Morgan Fraser-Jones influence the sound and feel of ‘Meat’ compared to your earlier demos?

Megan: Morgan is brilliant with helping us keep our songs concise and make the structure make sense. Morgan is brilliant at understanding the sound we want and knowing how to make that possible and bringing the songs to life. 

Sarah: Morgan is our pre prod queen - they can hear our song demo'd in the room or just tracked through a couple sm58's and imagine it produced almost to the final degree. They help us hit the highest and lowest dynamics that bring the song on a whole emotional arc.

I remember in early iterations it was still a 'jam' and we had a whole verse with no lyrics and Alfie and I made wacky noises through our pedalboards. I'm glad we took it out, that was lame.

Unwound has lovely high ceilings and it felt like it gave the cymbals and instruments room to soar. The massive corrugated metal doors were not very effective at keeping out the heatwave though, which I think made us slightly more feral in the process of recording.

What emotions or experiences do you hope listeners will connect with when they hear the lyrics of ‘Meat’?

Megan: It’s honestly deliberately kept vague. I really love hearing what people take from it as I’ve heard so many different versions. I have my own idea of what I was writing about which is how it feels when men (strangers) look at you in an entirely lustful way. 

But I’ve sometimes sung it with different meanings depending on my mood. It’s definitely open to interpretation and I enjoy hearing what other people have taken from it. 

How did your time in the Brighton DIY scene shape your artistic identity and the music you’re creating as Goodbye?

Sarah: The 5 of us will always be a part of this scene - as individuals and a group we're absolutely a product of it. Goodbye met through working in venues, despite our somewhat unhinged musical differences.

For real - I'm personally thankful to this scene for everything. For letting me book my first headliner at GDS as a lil 17 year old and nurturing my first band into the project it was, for the engineers, venues and studios that taught me the ropes and let me take my first few shifts as a live and studio engineer, and for giving me the platform to cross paths with the rest of Goodbye. So many people have played a part in my personal growth.

I think Brighton has a strong sense of subculture in its music scene, but also great open-mindedness. We have an abundance of dedicated, versatile musicians and such a strong community spirit. Show up, be respectful and you'll find support everywhere.

Can you describe your songwriting process? Do you typically start with lyrics, melodies, or a specific concept in mind?

Megan: Usually Alfie or Sarah will come up with a guitar idea and develop it in a bedroom session (as we like to call them) with 1 or 2 of us and then we’ll take it to a full band practice and it will be a completely different song by the end of the session. We like to play around with structure a lot and the vibe of the song often shifts a lot once it’s with a full band.

Lyrics always come last. I’ll sing the melody with a concept in mind and explore what syllables sit nicely where and then I’ll actually write the lyrics once that’s decided. Then the lyrics are never going to get in the way of the phrasing or how I’m singing a note etc. 

Sarah: Usually melodies. Alfie's written a new riff every couple of days. We literally can't stop him. We meet up to figure out guitars about once a month and have the bones for a new track within a couple of hours - an idea can snowball into a whole band song in a couple of days.

What role does collaboration play in your music, and how do each of you contribute to the creative process as a band?

Megan: Collaboration is huge to us. We always start with somebody bringing an idea (usually Alfie or Sarah) but not a full song and we all work on it together and make suggestions to each other about everybody’s parts. We communicate a lot during the writing process and yeh songs go through a lot of different versions. 

Sarah: It's massive. As mentioned above, our sound is a product of our completely mismatched influences. If Alfie wrote everything he probably wouldn't mind me saying we'd be a Jangle pop project, if I write everything it'd be sad overcomplicated folk or totally left field noise. We all meet each other somewhere.

Are there specific visual elements or themes you envision accompanying your music videos or live performances?

Megan: I personally like the ideas of playing with light and physical media. Like how the stars we had for our last Brighton headline reflected the light and how it shone through the plastic in our most recent press shots. 

Sarah: We draped some plastic dust sheets at our first gig to transform Rossi basement and make the space feel cobwebby and dreamy - that kind of stuck. With Meat being our single the plastic wrapping felt thematically correct.

How do you feel about the growing interest from tastemakers and the buzz surrounding ‘Goodbye’?

Megan: It’s exciting, it’s nice that people are enjoying something that we’ve all put so much work and passion into creating together.

Sarah: Amazed. And suspicious. I think we're a little surprised that people care so much. We knew that we started to make an interesting sound together, but of course you think your own music's great. The fact that other people, let alone some of our favourite bands and magazines in this last year alone are giving a shit about what we do is just kind of sus.

What’s the significance of your upcoming performance at Bella Union, and what can fans expect from that intimate show?

Megan: It’s more of a celebration than a show. We’re doing it in Brighton so that we can celebrate with the people who have always been there and supported us from the beginning, who we really appreciate. 

Sarah: Just a bit of a knees up. We work ourselves really hard, and the last headline shows were fun but super exhausting for us. It'll be nice to play a low-key show to local homie fans. Got some super hot new t-shirts to flog too. I designed them - they're really nice.

Looking ahead, what are your plans for live performances in 2026, and how do you hope to evolve as a band?

Megan: We’d love to do a support tour and play some towns we haven’t played before. I would love to go back to Manchester. I’m excited to see how our live performance evolves. We’re trying to get Elik’s SPD fixed as it broke as soon as we wrote a song on it but I’m excited to see how that influences our set in future shows. 

Sarah: More festivals. Taking on Europe. Greatest hits album. I want us to evolve to grow gills. 

What do you love right now?

Megan: Music, food, friends, cats - always what I love 

Sarah: Early nights, telling your friends you love them, Modelo on tap, Dan and Phil's resurrection.

What do you hate right now?

Megan: Water bottles that leak by design. My right ankle - I sprained it when we played Wilderness and it’s still not the same but 100% worth it because we had so much fun together!!

Sarah: Christmas music in November, wearing all your thermal layers then getting on a tube, our van going missing, YouTube shorts

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Megan: Debut - björk. Idk just fucking slaps.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Megan: Hopefully they can hear the work that has gone into it,  not just the track itself but in creating a sound we feel is pretty unique.

Sarah: Friendship.

Few bands capture the quiet beauty of their surroundings quite like Minneapolis quartet she’s green. Their new EP Chrysalis captures a period of change and self-discovery, shaped by long tours, shifting relationships and time spent in the Midwest’s calm landscapes. We spoke with the band about recording with Slow Pulp’s Henry Stoehr, finding inspiration in nature, and what comes next.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We’re she’s green from Minneapolis, Minnesota. We make textural music revolving around introspection and nature. We started making music with no expectation to be anything but as an emotional outlet for us and to have fun.

What was the inspiration behind the title of your latest EP, Chrysalis, and how does it reflect the music within?

A Chrysalis is a caterpillar before coming out of its cocoon as a butterfly and it seemed to be a perfect theme for the songs since we’ve been going through such a period of transformation as a band. We’ve gone through a lot these past few years from finishing up school, to relationships changing, and developing our sound as a band, playing a ton of shows on the road. Each song is reflecting on the journey in its own way.

Do you typically start with lyrics, melodies, or a particular concept in mind?

We have always started with a guitar part and worked from there. The melodies normally come next, singing gibberish and then the lyrics come from the images in my head, sometimes coming to fruition right away or over some time meditating on it. Our process has always been very natural. There hasn’t been a lot of thinking about concepts first in order to achieve this thing specifically, it’s just spewed out.

Can you share a memorable moment from the studio while recording Chrysalis?

We recorded Graze and Figurines with Henry Stoehr from Slow Pulp at his studio space in Chicago back in the summer of 2024. It was such a fun and rewarding experience, but had its share of silliness too. A lot of takes had to be abandoned because a hardcore band was practicing really loud just a couple rooms down the hall. While it may have been difficult to get clean takes, I can’t lie, that band sounded awesome. I wish I figured out what their name was.

Did anything unexpected happen that shaped the final product?

There’s always a lot of things that come up when you’re recording. Zofia was sick and had to record vocals for hours on end, Raines fractured his thumb a few days before tracking guitars, and we had to finish in a short time period between tours. All those things make recording hectic but also a unique experience.

Your music often incorporates themes of nature. How does your environment in Minneapolis shape your artistic vision and sound?

The Midwest has an almost feminine nature to it with bushy, soft hills and small trees. You drive about an hour away to farmlands with glowing cornfields at twilight and prancing deer. We have gorgeous blooming flowers on trees in the spring and summer, and bright colored leaves in fall. Winter is filled with days of fluffy snow covering everything you see, reminding you how pretty streetlights can be. The softness of our nature has impacted our love for lush textures in music and our love for cinematography as well.

What’s the significance of the visuals you choose to accompany your music?

When writing music, we take a lot of inspiration from nature, so these natural spring-fed creeks and forests seem a natural place for us to set the songs. Most of the album and single art is made at places that are pretty important and meaningful to us, natural places we’ve spent time reflecting.

What do you love right now?

I’ve been loving time home with my cat. Also looking forward to touring, enjoying the color of the fall leaves, and pupusas.

What do you hate right now?

The U. S. government and the price of Mexican food in Minneapolis.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Demon Days by Gorillaz and Out of the Blue by Electric Light Orchestra. These albums are so much fun. There are so many elements to these songs that constantly amaze.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

The goal is always to make emotional music, so we hope people can find something that resonates with them, whatever that is. It’s really interesting hearing the different meanings and interpretations people get from our songs.

You’ve recently been in the studio working with Sonny DiPerri (DIIV, Julie). What’s coming next for she’s green?

More music very soon!

Cherry i began as the project of two best friends, Nikol and Nastya, and has since grown into a London band carving out their own corner of grunge-leaning indie rock. Their new single Mistake is one of their most personal yet, written during a period of uncertainty and built around the idea of feeling defeated before you’ve even begun. In this Q&A, they dig into the themes behind the track, what they’ve learned from working with Ali Chant, how London’s DIY spaces push them out of their comfort zone, and the strange moments that stick with you when you play shows in pubs with secret doors.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We are an indie rock/grunge band based in London started by two best friends, Nikol and Nastya.

‘Mistake’ explores what you called “a relationship with defeat.” What first drew you to that theme, and how did it begin to take shape as a song?

My intense fear of failure and fear of being a burden to others is what inspired the track. I first wrote the lyrics for it 4 years ago when I was going through a really intense moment of transition in my life and felt absolutely defeated and lost.

You’ve now worked twice with Ali Chant. What did he bring to these sessions that surprised you most?

I knew the experience of recording with someone who’s work I admire was going to be great and it was. Ali always knew when something needed to be added in or taken away to give it the right balance in terms of emotion. The thing that surprised me I guess was how long the high of recording can last, I still think about it when I’m sad.

How do you feel your live performances differ from the recorded versions of your songs?

They’re more intense and theatrical at times. I also try to tell jokes sometimes which.. can go down well or horribly - so there’s the added bonus of going to see a rookie comedian.

London’s underground scene, particularly places like The Windmill and The George Tavern, has a real sense of community. How has that shaped your approach as a band?

Those places not only provide me with inspiration but also bravery. Seeing other bands perform in a way that would make me terrified to do allows me to really step out of my comfort zone and try and go there too. Wherever “there” is. Also it’s just an unlimited resource of free music and cool people and beer isn’t it?

Cherry i feels both intimate and cinematic at once. Are there visual or filmic references that influence how you write or imagine your songs?

I would say that mostly books I’ve read or am reading influence the songwriting because I manage to find parallels to my real life within them. In terms of visuals, the 80s movie “Possession” inspired the editing for Mistake a little bit. As well as my nightmares.

What’s the weirdest or most memorable thing that’s ever happened at one of your gigs?

Well, we got yelled at by a man who appeared out of thin air from behind the bar. Turns out he was the ex manager of the pub who still lived upstairs. He descended from his chambers and appeared from this secret little door to tell us to shut the hell up. Was a mystical and memorable experience.

Who’s the most chaotic member of the band?

Nikol. Me. The lead singer answering these questions.

What do you love right now?

Bram Stoker’s Dracula! Visually stunning. Just re-watched it recently. Though I must admit the acting is questionable and there’s the plot holes… “I have crossed oceans of time to have sex with you… and your best friend just while I’m at it.”

What do you hate right now?

The 4pm darkness that feels like it will swallow you whole.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

The emotion and the storytelling aspect of it.

Village are one of those bands shaped first and foremost by the community around them. They’ve spent the last few years bouncing between Leeds’ DIY stages, tightening their songs in real time and figuring out their sound by simply playing it a lot. That approach sits at the heart of their debut EP Pile On, a record built from tangled ideas, shared graft, and the people who’ve supported them along the way. In this Q&A, the band talk about how the EP came together, why no one could agree on how to spell “Pylon,” and how their live shows have grown from nervous early sets into something far more confident and unrestrained.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We’ve been a band now for about 3 years. We’ve never really had a specific aim regarding our sound, it’s just naturally formed based off what everyone likes at the time of writing the tracks. Everyone in Village is influenced by different sounds, and it comes together in quite a surprisingly coordinated way.

What inspired the title of your debut EP, Pile On, and how does it reflect the themes present throughout the tracks?

When we first wrote the track “Pylon” it wasn’t decided yet whether it was “Pylon” or “Pile-on”. When it came time to actually naming the track for the EP we realised that everyone thought it was spelt differently, including Evan who produced the EP. In honour of this we decided to use both names because we thought they were both cool and couldn’t decide. Regarding the themes of the EP, theres not much connection, however we do owe a lot to our friends and so we decided the cover should feature as many of them as we could fit on a big mound in hyde park.

Can you describe your songwriting process?

The way we write music has changed over the course of us being a band, it’s a lot harder to get us all in a room now we have sad jobs like Paddy who works in an office. Our tracks normally start with short but complex sections, followed by a session of desperately trying to link them together as a team. We aspire to write as a group more often but we’re just such busy bees.

How did your experiences within Leeds' DIY-gig scene shape the music on this EP?

The Leeds DIY scene is a massive part of how the tracks sound. Playing so many gigs helped refine the 4 tracks on the EP, especially regarding the energy we put into them. “Pylon” (being an instrumental) might not have made the cut if it weren’t for the love people give it.

Which track from Pile On was the most challenging to create, and what obstacles did you encounter during its development?

The hardest track to create was probably “Bereft”. There's just so many stupid parts in that song where we all go in and out of time and getting it right took so long. Fakie kept playing everything different, and Spike likes his part to be perfect. Lots of moving parts. Fakie: Lucy believes “Pylon” was the hardest to create, more in terms of writing, and to be honest if my parts were as good as hers I think I’d agree.

What visual elements do you envision accompanying your music, whether in music videos, album art, or live performances?

We come up with all sorts of ideas for visual accompaniment, Lucy wants us to sit on the shoulders of wrestlers, and paddy wants POV five a side football footage. If anyone knows any wrestlers who would be game give me a shout.

How has your live performance evolved since you first started playing together, and what can fans expect from your upcoming shows?

Our live performance has changed a lot since we first started, especially regarding the quality of musicianship. We’re faster and sometimes we play things a little different. A large part of that can be attributed to Spike joining the band. Top Shredder. We’ve started getting crazier on stage too and we like moving around a bit now.

Can you share a memorable moment from your recent tour with Bathing Suits?

The most memorable moment from our recent tour was the look on Paddy’s face when he pulled out the top half of his guitar from his case, followed by its mangled body. All of our gear in Village is broken to some degree, and Pad’s guitar was the only fully working part of the set, so to see it in two pieces felt quite poetic. We also had a karaoke night which was quite fun, coming together as a big group to sing ‘all my friends’.

What role does community play in your music-making process, and how do you engage with your local scene?

The local scene means a lot to us, and it has helped us become a much better band. I’m sure there's a lot of shit local scenes in the world, but the Leeds scene actually consists of some of our favourite bands and there's really good music to be heard. James (Private Reg) Vardy puts on so many shows of all different kinds, and all of them are such great nights. That guy knows how to party!

What do you love right now?

We love Yangs Noodles in Hyde Park, Napoleons Casino, Football, Book Club, Our lovely friends involved with Private Regcords.

What do you hate right now?

We hate Eczema, Alex Mulholland, That rat singer with the fruit phobia.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

AM by the arctic monkeys.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

We hope they enjoy it for starters, and that they want to come hear it live. We enjoy gigging the most out of all band activities, and we really want to put on a great show.

Butch Kassidy have always felt like a group on the brink of combustion. The London five piece deal in sharp edges and explosive peaks, the kind of music that grows out of long rehearsals, loose jams and a shared instinct to push each idea until it cracks open. After four years of writing, touring across Europe and quietly shaping the next phase of their sound, they return with Like Fire, a single that captures everything volatile and hypnotic about them. We caught up with the band to talk about their creative process, the sister tracks that anchor their new release, the thinking behind their new label Polished Stone Records and why the live show still feels like their truest form.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We’re Butch Kassidy from London and our music is a rollercoaster of tension and release

It’s been four years since your last release. What’s been happening in that time, and what made now feel like the right moment to return?

Lev: We spent a lot of time writing new music, refining old music, playing and travelling in Europe and also recording music. There was also a lot of time spent thinking about the concepts of future release either in form of tracklisting or visually/aesthetically. This just felt like the right time for us.

The new single ‘Like Fire’ is ferocious and hypnotic in equal measure. How did it first take shape, and did it always sound this volatile?

Tom: The song began with a driving kick drum and bass section. We wanted to give it a techno-like pulse that keeps pushing the listener forward until the end. From there, we built the rest of the track around that core groove, layering in guitars and other textures. When we write, we usually try to keep a sense that the song could fall apart at any moment. That’s where I believe the volatility comes from. At any point, it might erupt or shift direction completely, and that’s really the role the guitars play in Like Fire.

You’ve said ‘Like Fire’ and ‘Ascend’ are two halves of one idea. How did that concept develop, and what connects them for you?

Anders: We write things very naturally all together through jams and throwing ideas around. I think it started with the bass line (of Ascend) and then through hours of playing it we kept extending it to 2 songs. Everyone adds their own elements and ideas on top until it eventually resembles a “Butch Kassidy song”. We split it up after finishing as we thought they were nice contrasts of each other and we want to show the two sides of our music.

You’ve launched your own label, Polished Stone Records, with a “creator-first” ethos. What does that mean to you in practice?

Fionn: It’s something we’ve always wanted to do. We don’t exactly agree with the way the music industry has been set up and the norms that have just been accepted by everyone. We want to give the artists we work with the lion's share of splits unlike any label we’ve heard of in the hope that it gives bands and acts a better chance of being able to sustain their career and focus on creating. We hope more people realise this is the right thing to do and follow suit as without the music in the first place there would be nothing to work with.

The live experience seems crucial to your identity. What do you find most rewarding about performing your music in front of an audience?

Aron: We’ve done shows in places I never thought we’d get to visit and met people who have been brought to tears from the music being performed live. Seeing this has been really rewarding.

What was the inspiration behind the unique remixes featured in the CD-only edition of your EP, and how do they differ from the originals?

Fionn: We wanted some of the great bands we’ve become friends with to completely reimagine our songs. The remixes are very different from the original songs and we gave everyone free reign to do whatever they want with it, they could even add new parts if they wanted. It also goes hand in hand with trying to build a community and see how people create under different environments.

How do you approach songwriting as a group, and what’s the dynamic like when you’re crafting new material together?

Aron: Songs for us usually mould themselves throughout time.

Some songs are written in a day and are never touched again, whereas other songs are written over much longer periods of time and are constantly changing. A song usually isn’t finished unless we’re all happy.

With your recent festival appearances, what have been some standout moments or interactions with fans that have left a lasting impression on you?

Lev: Our first festival appearance in Poland has been the biggest standout moment for me. It was amazing to see the crowd's reaction to every song and also sharing the stage with some of our favourite artists.

Can you share a bit about the symbolism of the broken cymbal key-rings, and what they represent for you?

Aron: there’s not much symbolism involved really, I just thought it was a good way to give back. I’ve got massive chunks of sharp metal laying around my practice space from cymbals, probably about 30 broken cymbals laying around like one big cymbal grave yard. It’s quite tragic.

What do you love right now?

My bed - Lev

The Prodigy - Fionn

Thingvellir National Park - Aron

AI face swapping - Tom

Southwest railway - Anders

What do you hate right now?

Prices at airports - Lev

Predictability - Fionn

Broken cymbal grave yard - Aron

Long throw-ins - Tom

Peanut dust - Anders

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Tom: AC/DC - If You Want Blood You’ve Got It (Live)

It’s the greatest live album of all time. My dad had a battered CD copy and we would listen to it in his van most days. The energy in that performance on every song is off the scale, Bon’s vocals are insane and it feels like you’re really there. I often return to it as it’s a great motivator for both everyday life and also for the band. If you can just capture an ounce of that raw power in a live performance then you’re off to a good start.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Anders: We always aim for things to be as minimal as possible in the quiet sections and as maximal as possible once it reaches its crescendo. There’s always about 5 different melodies going on at once in order to create the wall of sound and we all love music that you can keep discovering things in, so I hope people will be discovering all these different parts hidden in the wall.

Ollie Cook, frontman of The Hogwash, is carving out his own lane somewhere between alt-country warmth and scrappy Midlands grit. With his new single Home Video, released via Hand In Hive, Cook captures a feeling of fleeting nostalgia and present-tense reflection, reminding listeners not to get too lost in the past. Speaking from years spent bouncing between Birmingham, Bristol and Wolverhampton, he discusses the band’s self-made approach, their growing place in the UK’s alt-country scene, and why collaboration has become central to their sound.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

My name is Ollie Cook and I play with my band, and best friends, The Hogwash. We’re all from Birmingham and it’s surrounding areas in the West Midlands, and we like to make music that’s a little Americana-ish, a little bit garage. For fans of: Dad’s in New Balance.

How did your experiences at university influence the creation of 'Home Video' and the sound you’re pursuing as an artist?

When I first started out in College, I was making music entirely by myself, playing in different bands and being quite isolated in my own songwriting. Then when I met the band, moving from College into University, we slowly started to open up and work on these songs together, with ‘Home Video’ being one of the first tracks I took to the guys, that we re-worked from a demo I had made on my own.

Can you describe the process of recording 'Home Video' in self-made studios and how it shaped the final outcome of the track?

Recording the song took a while. I knew that I wanted to record this one ourselves, so early this year we booked out free recording time in our university in Birmingham. Jamie, our drummer came into the session and smashed his takes out in a room that sounded terrible and was the size of the back of a sprinter van. During that session, we all finished up and when my co-producer and guitarist Elliot was saving the takes, I turned off a switch thinking it was the lights. It wasn’t, I’d turned off the pre-amps and power to the computer. We lost everything.

Though, it was a blessing in disguise as I had just moved to Bristol and had access to bigger and better studios. So I then gathered up Elliot and my mate Ruben to engineer Jamie’s takes in Bristol. You can see some of this in the music video. After that, we tracked everything else at my childhood home in Wolverhampton. Doing it all DIY, I really learnt a lot about making music and producing, and not being too perfectionist over what we’re doing as a band.

What themes or messages do you hope listeners take away from 'Home Video', especially with its focus on memories and absence?

The song in its entirety is about living in this very moment. We can look back on things later, so please don’t get stuck in one particular time, there is so much more you can get up to.

Can you share any stories or moments from your recent live performances that particularly resonated with you?

Very recently, we’ve just gotten back from a tour with Deep Sea Diver in Europe. Those shows in general really resonated with me. The crowds are amazing and we noticed they always wish for your success at the merch table, which is cool. In Cologne, we had met this couple after the show who asked us where we’re from, we explained how we’re from the West Midlands/Birmingham expecting maybe, a blank stare. It turns out that one of their parents was born in Hong-Kong, and then moved to Solihull, where our drummer Jamie is from. Birmingham is everywhere.

How do you feel your music fits into the broader alt-country and indie scenes, and what influences have shaped this direction?

I mean, we all really love the Alt-Country scene coming out of Asheville and Burlington over in the states. I don’t think we’re entirely reminiscent of that, but whenever any of those bands come over to the West Midlands/UK we almost always end up opening for them in Birmingham, which we love of course. Brown Horse are a band that we’ve opened up for a couple times; with them being from the UK too, it’s cool to see them doing well in their own genre and is really inspiring. All of this comes from my Dad though, who used to play Wilco and Lucinda Williams in the house when I was a kid, and also played in his own bands.

What do you consider to be your biggest personal growth since starting your musical journey, both as a songwriter and performer?

Collaboration never used to be on the cards when I first started writing music, it was and still is a very personal thing to me. But I’ve opened up to other people’s ideas and I think that’s what really tightened the bond in the bands songwriting. It makes us more confident in the rehearsal room and on stage.

How does the concept of 'Brumicana Dad Rock' reflect your identity as an artist and the music you create?

‘Brumicana Dad Rock’ was a joke at first but it very clearly rings true with the shows that we’re playing and who’s coming to them, who’s digging the music. We wanted a word that captured the rising scene in Birmingham for artists that lean into our type of influences. I feel this city really gets overlooked when it comes to the current scene of musicians that are playing around currently.

What are your plans for future releases or projects, and how do you see your sound evolving in the coming years?

We’ve got tons of new songs, we’ve been playing them in our live sets. It’ll be nice to have an album recorded for next year. Honestly, I don’t think me or the band know where the sound will go after future projects, I guess we’re just taking everything on the nose right now.

What’s it like working with the label Hand In Hive?

I met Hand In Hive at a Wetherspoons before an MJ Lenderman gig around about a year ago. We were introduced by a friend and after that kept in touch, with them then booking us for their Great Escape showcase this year. Hand In Hive are really doing this for the cause and because they’re into what we make and that’s all that we can ask for.

What do you love right now?

Pretending to be a DJ in the tour van, Elvis Costello, eggs on toast, Fallout: New Vegas.

What do you hate right now?

Fast food, Birmingham road works, my dissertation, the constant headache I’ve had for the past week.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco was one of those albums that I started to get into when I was around 13 to 14 and figuring out what music I liked and didn’t. There are so many memories that come with that album from when I was growing up, and it was so much fun making my friends listen to it for the first time, and how much they loved it too.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

I hope they can find the fun in the new music we make, we hope it resonates. It’s such a great feeling looking into the crowd and seeing people really enjoy themselves. We like to have fun on stage and we hope it can be infectious.

There’s something deeply human about L’orne’s music. Across their new EP Mirror, the Rotterdam five-piece channel emotional intensity through expansive, shape-shifting soundscapes that feel as intimate as they are unrestrained. Recorded in a converted gas station whose eerie acoustics became an instrument in itself, the project captures the band’s fascination with imperfection, community and catharsis. In conversation, founding members Quincey and Luka open up about the isolation and creativity that shaped the record, the vulnerability behind their single ‘Talk To Me Too,’ and why they’ll never stop chasing reinvention, no matter where it takes them.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Quincey: We are L’orne, a five-piece from Rotterdam, The Netherlands. The music we make could be categorized as post-rock, but it could be anything really! The common thread of it all is the focus on experimentation and honesty.

Can you describe your songwriting process?

Q: Our songwriting process is practically divided into two parts. First, Luka or I write the bare song (consisting of the voice and one instrument), after which we take this idea to the rest of the band. From there, it could pretty much go anywhere. In the end it’s rarely the same song!

What was the most challenging aspect of recording your new EP, Mirror, in that converted gas station environment?

Luka : Before we started recording, I was sure the most challenging would be to get the sound right. This dome is 13 m high and with that the biggest gas dome in Europe. You can imagine the echo doing all sorts of weird things. This was definitely very challenging, but together with our recording engineer, Niek van den Driesschen, it worked out quite well. In the end, the weird sound and atmosphere was what lured us to that place.

What I’m getting at, though, is that the more challenging part was the loneliness of this cold, old place. There was only one spot where you could rest I.n our makeshift little control room with no fresh air, breathing down our engineer’s neck. Anywhere else would be too cold, lonely and messy. This meant we were cooped up in a very small place with usually seven people. All sorts of weird stuff happens when a group is together for so long, ‘the monkey brains’ come out and you become a sort of hivemind. Everything gets weird and childish. Reminiscing about it, it was very interesting to let go of the individual experience and be a part of something you have no control over.

Can you share a bit about the themes and emotions you explore in the single, ‘Talk To Me Too’?

L: To get it out of the way, I’m autistic :) I love people, but it can be quite a challenge to function in big groups. I try to make conversation but get distracted, I make a remark that I think is hilarious, but it doesn’t come across or i speak too soft and then, when I'm dead serious, people laugh their asses off. It’s all good, I found my people and I have peace with who I am now, but in the past I felt very out of place and lonely most of the time. That’s what Talk To Me Too is about:)

How did your collaborative dynamic change during the recording sessions, especially given the unique setting and long hours?

Q: Well, every song had been pretty much rehearsed to death before we entered the recording space. We were 100% convinced of our material and just collectively focussed on nailing every recording, because we really didn’t have a lot of time. This somewhat shared tunnel-vision really made those long hours pass by a lot quicker!

What role does visual art and video play in your overall artistic expression and how does it complement your music?

Q: The great thing about making music, is that you can combine it with filmmaking, writing, performing and dressing up. I love making art in so many ways, so this was what made me choose the music thing.

Well, we LOVE making videoclips! For our debut-album, we made four videoclips that are on our Youtube page, and guess what! Talk To Me Too also has one! We make them ourselves with no budget or education on filmmaking and it’s my favourite thing ever. We think about aesthetics a lot and I do believe this makes all the difference in how you experience music. People want something to look at (that being the amazing visuals Rasmi Bolk makes for us at every show) , I do for sure!

As a band, how do you keep your creative process fresh and engaging, especially after your debut album?

L: Our idea with L’orne was, that it can be whatever it wants to be:) The music grows with us, this way it can never get boring. Each song is a puzzle waiting to be solved and we’re usually very determined to solve it.

What inspired the trilogy concept behind How are you, old ragged Bunny?

L: The concept of the trilogy was set in motion for me, when someone very dear to me was recovering from a suicide attempt and hospitalized for a couple of nights. I visited her every day and there were just so many bunnies! I would lay in the grass waiting for her, looking at a massive chestnut tree with about eight bunnies hopping around. It made me think about innocence and its lack of space for it in this modern day society. If not in this peaceful bit of green unaware of rent, bureaucracy and war, where could they live? If the bunnies in the big city were once soft and sweet, they would surely be ragged and old now.

How do you think your music connects with the community in Rotterdam, and do you feel a sense of local identity in your sound?

Q: I actually feel no shared identity with the ‘Rotterdam-Sound’. When L’orne started out, we noticed straight away that we didn’t fit into the popular scene here, which mainly consists of post-punk re-revival stuff. To be fair, we have changed musically since then, but our interest in re-inventing ourselves hasn’t. Something I don’t necessarily see reflected in a lot of the music in Rotterdam. Don’t get me wrong, there is a cosy micro scene of likeminded musicians here that we love to death. But I do have some bones to pick here and there. On the EP after Mirror, I actually sing about this. So that’s a little sneak-peak, if you will!

Can you tell us about a moment during your recent European shows that particularly resonated with you?

Q: A moment that really stuck with me was our first gig in Paris. The city holds a special place in my mind, because my grandfather (on my mother’s side) was from there. He unfortunately passed away and was never able to take me there. The day of the gig was my first day in Paris and, walking along the Seine, I saw an expo on Cesaria Evora, a great Cape Verdean artist. My other grandfather (on my father’s side) is from there. Being far from home, reminiscing about my deceased grandfather and realizing I felt alien in both cultures, was just a lot to take in. The show itself was wonderful, with some of our British friends showing up in the audience! But during the ambient part of our song Old Hag, all the emotions before and during the performance took their toll and I just started screaming and howling like a madman. I poured it all out, then and there, on a dimly lit French stage with my closest friends and partner right next to me. And it was fucking wonderful! I will never hold my emotions back on stage, ‘cause why would I?

What do you love right now?

Q: I love the movie All About Lily Chou-Chou, directed by Shunji Iwai. It’s the perfect coming of age story, in my humble opinion. But without all the cheesyness of Hollywood-blockbuster feelgood crap! Its soundtrack is also phenomenal!

L: I love Jim White - Searching for the wrong-eyed Jesus (the album AND documentary!) Also vegan carrot cake.

What do you hate right now?

Q:I hate (and am terrified of) the rise of right-wing extremism. Facism is becoming fashionable again and people are more prone to envy and ego-centrism.

L: I hate billionaires

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Q: One record that stands out is Secrets Of The Beehive by David Sylvian, a hero of mine! It’s concise, with no filler songs to be found on it (a rare sight in albums, in my opinion). It’s moody, David’s voice is so soothing and the instrumentation has a deep atmosphere to it. From the first listen, it just stuck. My friends can attest to my missionary-like devotion to indoctrinating people with his music!

L: Afraid of Heights - Wavves is an album I love to revisit from time to time, to get that sweet nostalgic puberty and mental illness fueled rebellious but lonely and with big dreams feeling back. Why? Because I’m sentimental :)

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Q: I really hope that they find what they’re looking for in the songs, that their itch gets scratched if you will. Which of course differs per person (and per listen). Whether that would be emotional resonance, musical inspiration or just a breath of fresh air, I’d just feel honored to be a part of that! Every day I’m grateful to share the music that matters so much to me :)

Photography By: Jules Van Eijs

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We're Adèle and Nico from Montreal, Canada. With our music, we explore the liminal spectrum between the here and the beyond, pointing to love, nature and community as the unifying purpose. 

What themes or emotions do you explore in your upcoming album Amaro?

With Amaro, we are exploring grief as a main theme, fatality, in contrast to the desire to love and to live.

Can you share any specific artistic influences that shaped Amaro's sound or lyrical content during its creation process?

With Amaro  we wanted to push our limit, we wanted to be radical with our aesthetic choices. We always say that the sound on the album tastes like dirt, you can feel the music in your body. We imagine people listening to the album while dancing their emotions to the extreme in ancient ruins. We were influenced by les Tapisseries de l'Apocalypse in the Angers castle in France, the medieval imagery influenced the sounds and the lyrical content.

How did your collaborations with Helena Deland and Dimitri Milbrun impact the overall vibe and direction of your new album?

Helena is reciting a text on a song called A different light. The song is an homage to a friend we lost last year. Helena makes the song larger than us. She is reciting a text that Adèle sings later on the album in french. The text is inspired by les Tapisseries de l'Apocalypse, it seems coherent with the times we are living in. As for Dimitri, he plays a sax solo on our song George Sand, he represents the desire to love and live, the sparks of life that gets us inspired and alive. 

What does the title track 'Amaro' represent for you both, and how does it set the tone for the rest of the album?

Amaro to us is a character, a feeling, a place between life and death. It's like a character that passes across the album, an immortal figure, a place where we live our grief. It sets the tone in the sounds we use for the album: the guitar that has a grit, like dirt, the pulse of the drum machine, the feeling of emergency with a calming voice, almost like a spell. It exposes the lyrical themes of the album: life, death, nature.

Can you describe the visual aesthetic for the Amaro album artwork and how it complements the music?

The artwork for Amaro is a collection of ink illustrations made by the visual artist Mégane Voghell and assembled by graphic designer Hugo Jeanson. The illustrations are based on the songs' themes and characters, the mother and the child, the angry beast, Amaro, etc. It presents itself like a window on the world of Amaro, giving the album a feeling of a fable, a myth.

How has your approach to live performances evolved since your earlier shows, particularly in light of your recent experiences?

The live experience is crucial to our project. It's a way to communicate with our audience, to create a human connection, to transcend everyday life. We have been working lately with a lighting designer/video artist (Flavie Lemée), to create mood and textures that pushes the music in a spiritual experience, a meaningful experience. We also work closely with our sound engineer (Charles-David Dubé) to make sure the music and vocals have a physical impact on the crowd. We want to make the crowd feel something, bring an experience that makes you go back home after the show and feel more human, more empathic to the others.

What do you hope audiences take away from your performances on the upcoming UK tour, especially after hearing the new material?

We hope they feel a human connection and they come back home with more empathy and a feeling of community. The new material is raw and has a sense of urgency, a tension, but it also points to something luminous and hopeful.

What is one aspect of your songwriting process that you find particularly challenging, and how do you navigate that?

Our songwriting process is really instinctive, we tend to move fast and not overwork what feels right. So we don't often feel challenged by it. But once in a while something feels good musically but a little off, we have a feeling that it's worth pursing but it's not as instinctive then usual, so the challenge is to find the balance between not overworking but also not letting go a good idea.

What role does your community play in your creative process, and how has it influenced your music in recent years?

We are lucky to have a nice musical community around us and supportive friends. Their projects influence us to go further, to push our limits, to keep exploring new creative territories. We work with two managers, and they have amazing musical taste, they are helpful in our creative process to help us validate our ideas but also to defend them.

What do you love right now?

Adèle: I love spending time with friends, it nourishes me. I also love the fall and the complex feeling it brings. It is darker.The sun is low in the sky but yet so very bright.

Nico: I love gardening and I love the bands Moin and Milkweed that I both discovered recently.

What do you hate right now?

Adèle : I hate dirty opportunism. When people crush others to go higher.

Nico: I hate how the canadian medias have been covering the genocide in Palestine, and I hate the constant violence.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Adèle: The Fugees The Score

Nico: I'm still listening once in a while to Metallica And justice for all, that album made me want to play guitar and it is part of my "guitar DNA".

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

A connection with themselves and their own community, a connection with what makes us human, the tension between all of us. We hope they have the feeling that they could dance to our music in ancient ruins and feel their emotions.

For Italian-born, London-based artist Nantas, music is both a mirror and a stage, a place where vulnerability meets theatricality. Drawing on nostalgia for the early 2000s and the sweeping drama of classical mythology, his songs transform personal pain into something cinematic. His latest single, ‘Bring Out Your Clouds,’ emerges from solitude and struggle, yet carries a quiet defiance, a belief that art still matters in a world increasingly too fast and too cynical to notice.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Sure! I’m Nantas, an indie singer-songwriter from the Sorrento coast, Italy, now based in London. I grew up eating bread and Madonna for breakfast and my music (at the moment) carries a lot of nostalgia from the time I fell in love with music, so whatever was playing on the radio around 2004 / 2005. I make music for people that like to enjoy sound as a theatrical experience.

How did the solitude of the pandemic influence your songwriting process for ‘Bring Out Your Clouds’?

As someone who has struggled with intrusive thoughts for much of my life, isolation only amplified that pain and made everything feel ten times heavier. This song, to me, is deeply tied to loneliness and isolation, a feeling that often accompanies obsessive thoughts and compulsions. I was at war with myself and I was longing for a sense of purpose, which definitely influenced the writing.

Can you share more about the inspiration behind the mandolin demo that sparked this track?

That whole idea was my friend Hamish’s, which is the most ironic thing about it. He’s always experimenting with new sounds and instruments (He’s the only person I know that knows how to play an accordion) and one day, I woke up to an email in my inbox titled “Meditation on Mandolin”; a rough recording he’d made of himself improvising. I was immediately hypnotised and the fact that he chose that instrument is wild cause that’s the official instrument of Naples.

We hadn’t worked together for a while, but his melodies have always had such a pull on me. As soon as I heard it, the first thing that came to mind was, “Babe, it’s been a while.” I had to press pause to making music so that I could protect my mental health, everything was just too much. But that recording; that specific, trembling sound, spoke to the depths of my soul. I still find it so ironic that a guy from Reading managed to reawaken my sense of purpose by randomly learning how to play a traditional Neapolitan instrument.

What aspects of your Neapolitan roots do you feel are most present in your music?

I am not sure if aspects of my Neapolitan heritage show in this specific project. Maybe I do write music differently from native english speakers because I grew up listening to songs without being able to understand the words, so that probably thought me the importance of interpretation and melody. Not sure tho, I do talk a lot of trash.

Could you describe the visual elements in the music video and how they reflect your artistic vision?

In this video, we wanted to explore the sense of alienation that comes with being an artist in London, the feeling of standing still while the city rushes past you. We wanted to capture the contrast between the relentless pace of urban life and the presence of an artist who seems to belong to another time. It’s an attempt to portray the struggle of feeling unseen and oppressed in a place that moves too fast to notice.

At its core, this piece is also a celebration. It is a statement that to be an artist is, in itself, an act of heroism. It takes courage to create in a world that increasingly turns its back on art, even more so as an immigrant artist in a country where recently only certain kinds of “skills” are considered worthy of belonging. I have often felt suffocated by that mindset, by a system so consumed by power and profit that it forgets what truly matters. Yet, art remains our closest connection to life itself. Without it, we lose something essential, something deeply human. This work is about perseverance. It is about holding on to a forgotten sense of romanticism, about refusing to surrender to cynicism, and continuing to believe in beauty.

How does the concept of Ovid’s Metamorphoses shape the broader themes in your upcoming project?

I’ve always felt a strong connection to mythology, ever since I was a child. After moving to London, I kept writing song after song, we they were lacking originality. As an Aquarius, if there’s one true thing about me (other than always opting for questionable haircuts) is that I never run out of ideas. I just hadn’t yet found a way to translate them into sound. So I asked myself: what truly sets me apart? What am I most passionate about?

That’s when I went back to the very first song I ever wrote, “Jupiter”. From there, I began writing about Callisto, one of its moons, and I knew I had found something special. But I wasn’t done yet. Once that song was finished, I started delving into the myths connected to the other moons of Jupiter. That led me to study Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and what amazed me most was discovering how much art has been inspired by it over the centuries.

What I find so fascinating about reinterpreting those stories is realising that human emotions haven’t really changed. People felt the same things over two thousand years ago as we do today. It’s an incredible feeling to connect with an artist who lived so long ago. It goes to show that good art never truly dies and it never ceases to speak. It’s also intriguing to see how the gods were depicted before Christianity reshaped so much of our cultural imagination.

In what ways do you see your music connecting with the urban landscape of London?

In the song, I talk about transforming the burning city into sound. That line takes me back to nights when I would ride the bus home, drunk and alone, passing through central London in the heart of the night, feeling scared and lost, yet in a way, alive. As I write this now, I’m looking out from my room at the buildings in Shoreditch. This urban landscape, with its sense of both freedom and lostness, has shaped who I am and, in many ways, my songwriting itself.

What role does collaboration play in your creative process, particularly with someone like Patrick Fitzroy?

Collaborating is probably my favourite part of the creative process. It creates a dialogue, which I believe is the essence of art. When working with someone as musically talented and culturally aware as Patrick, I always leave the studio feeling inspired. Before approaching a song, we have deep conversations about the meaning we’re trying to uncover. He’s pushed me to question my beliefs and challenged my ideas and that’s the number one quality I look for when deciding to work with someone. He also has such a sensitivity when it comes to sound and his way of perceiving music is almost poetic. The track wouldn’t have been half as good without the combination of both our experiences.

How do you balance the theatrical elements of your music with the more personal storytelling aspect?

I think being theatrical is part of who I am. Wearing a costume allows me to access a part of my personality, and it is through fictional characters that I let the viewer connect with the part of me that is actually the most truthful. I guess wearing a costume helps me set my personal fears aside and focus entirely on the purpose of art, which is to communicate.

Can you tell us about a specific moment in your early London days that significantly influenced your musical journey?

In the first couple of months after I moved, I used my first paycheck from working at H&M to buy myself a guitar. As poetic as it sounds, I never actually learned how to play it. But that decision led me to meeting my guitar teacher who, after hearing that my house was infested with rats, suggested I look for a room on Gumtree. Instead of taking his advice, I did what any other delusional twink would do and started looking for a band to join while making friends with the rats. That’s how I met Hamish (a guitarist, not a rodent) . Around that same time, I broke up with my ex. The combination of those three things definitely shaped the life I have now.

How do you hope your music will resonate with listeners who might feel alienated by urban life?

I quite simply hope they feel a little less alone. Quoting one of the most outstanding and profound masterpieces of modern cinematography: “We’re all in this together”.

How do you see the evolution of your sound compared to your earlier work, especially in terms of genre?

This is the first time I’m releasing something that truly feels like me. Each song I wrote that I was unsatisfied with was a step I needed to take to reach this point. In terms of genres, while there are many I’m looking forward to exploring, this time it wasn’t a conscious decision to make what seems to be considered electro-pop. I went to my first session with Tom in 2023, and we had a massive brainstorm focused purely on sounds and songs I liked. Anything from a synth I heard on a niche Italian TV channel to the most unexpected songs, pointing out, “I like this particular bass and this particular beat.” Then we blend those sounds with my way of writing, which usually involves describing rather theatrical stories, and suddenly we find musical journalists saying, “Oh, I love the nostalgic emo electro pop-rock vibe with elements of this and that.” I guess if there’s an evolution it lies in the fact that I have a better idea of what I like, I am better at describing what I want and I am more confident when it comes to song-writing.

What do you love right now?

Feeling like I’m serving my purpose.

What do you hate right now?

Violence.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

There are so many, but one album I’ve been listening to again recently and was completely obsessed with as a teenager is Blackout by Britney. I genuinely think everyone should stop for a moment, take a deep breath, and thank the universe for being alive at the same time as Britney Spears.

The production and lyrics on that album still drive me absolutely NUTS. It is pure brilliance, a true “no skips” record. I also think Blackout is the one body of work where we get to see the real Britney, raw and unfiltered. I have always felt deeply for what she went through, and on that note, I’ll just say this: joking about 2007 Britney or ridiculing anyone’s mental health struggles was never funny, not then and not now. It’s actually quite lame.

The fact that she managed to turn so much pain and chaos into such powerful and iconic art makes me respect her even more.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Well I really gave it my all so that I could put out something of quality that felt authentic. When I write and perform I try my best so that I can not just create a good song but encapsulate an emotion, frame a moment of my life that shaped me and I want to immortalise. But I guess I just hope that whoever listens to my music feels heard. Isn’t connection all we’re all looking for at the end of the day?

Photography By: Rebecca Thomas

Hailing from the eclectic backdrop of Manchester, MLEKO is a seven-member band that has coined the term "Gub Rock" to describe their unique sound-a blend of slightly weird rock infused with brass that’s sure to please even your mum. Their latest single captures fleeting emotions with a raw immediacy, a testament to their commitment to spontaneity in songwriting. As they navigate the vibrant local scene, they embrace the chaos of collaboration while keeping the energy high both on and off stage. In this conversation, they delve into their creative process, the challenges of sharing their music, and what fans can expect from their upcoming shows.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

I could list our names but there’s seven of them and you won’t remember them. Together we go by MLEKO, which is one word, and far easier to remember. We’re from all over (far more south than we let on), but we formed in Manchester so we’re holding onto this northern gimmick for as long as we’re allowed. We’ve been answering this question with ‘we make Gub Rock’ in order to weasel our way out of a question we don’t really know the answer to, but it turns out Gub Rock is already a term used to describe old man rock in Sweden. We don’t make old man rock, but we do make slightly weird rock music with a horn section so that our mums like it.

How did the idea of 'Gub Rock' come about, and what does it represent for you and the band in your creative journey?

The song came as a collection of parts that were haphazardly stitched together like most of our tracks, just this one happened to flow and build quite nicely. What makes this song different from the rest of our EP is that it was recorded a week or so after writing it which meant our usual process of getting bored and re-writing was cut short and replaced with a feeling of capturing the moment and the excitement you get from a new song.

Can you describe your songwriting process?

For Gub Rock, Rory kindly delivered the rest of us several guitar lines which made up the bones of the track, and left everyone to figure out what we wanted to do with it. This is usually how it works, except for a couple of cases like Tom’s Tune, for obvious reasons.

Do you collaborate closely or does each member contribute their own ideas separately?

Generally speaking it's down to each member to synthesise their own part, but we’ve got a lot better at being open with feedback, as we kinda live off that feeling when everyone's super into what we're making. It’s a very social process that can be really influenced by energy in the room.

What themes or messages are you exploring in your latest single?

Lyrically it’s trying to capture that moment in time where all that’s been bubbling away under the surface ‘hits you’ and requires confronting. As with lots of our songs the lyrics decorate an emotion already presented in the instrumentation and I guess that is quite dark and brooding. We will release a happy go lucky banger next though, no one needs their January to be sound tracked by such things.

Your live shows seem quite immersive. How do you approach the visual elements of your performances to enhance the audience experience?

We struggle to stay still while playing and I think seeing the seven of us jumping up and down on a stage too small for us makes for an interesting watch as it is. Although recently we’ve been getting in the audience because it looks equally fun off the stage. Once we've blown up we will sack that off and forget about the audience in favour of self indulgent performance art.

How do your Manchester roots influence your music, and do you feel a connection to other local artists?

I think we all came from areas where the local music scene was pretty bare, we all came to Manchester looking for what we’ve found I guess. Through playing the venues in south Manchester, like withington public hall and fuel, and playing community run events we’ve played with some of the nicest and most exciting bands. We feel incredibly lucky to be part of this scene. Especially at the moment where Manchester music feels more exciting than ever.

What role do the Gubs play in your performances, and how did you come up with the idea to incorporate them?

It’s a gimmick we’re holding on to and that's as about as deep as it gets. Although having said that I do think they add a bit of familiarity and help to make the stage feel like ours, which is no easy feat when you're first up on a wet Wednesday night in London. Assuming we remember to bring them and don't lose them.

What has been the most challenging aspect of getting your music out there, and how have you navigated those challenges?

It’s been surprisingly difficult, we almost released a recording none of us really liked about a year ago and have spent countless long days recording unreleased songs. That track in particular is still a highlight of our set but we’ve never translated that outside of the live space and I think something quite nice about that. Although it does seem there’ll be a lot of unhappy people if it does never get re-recorded and released. I think that kind of sums it up really, it took us a while to get our tracks to where we want them to be, then it took a while to find a recording space and producer that could capture what we were after. Thankfully we found a super supportive team along the way that helped it materialise.

Can you tell us about any upcoming shows or festivals you’re particularly looking forward to and what fans can expect from those performances?

I think supporting man/women/chainsaw is definitely up there, lots of us have been listening to them for a while and think they’re awesome. Aside from that, it’s just playing new cities and trying to replicate what we have going in Manchester elsewhere. Expect crotchet Gubs and sweaty boys and girls losing their shit on stage.

What do you love right now?

The orchestra (for now)’s new EP Plan 76. Just as I had rinsed plan 75 for all it was worth, they went and hit us with this. We also recently heard a great band from London, Skiving, who are about to put out their first album, so we're pretty gassed for that.

What do you hate right now?

Fines. Parking and wrong train related specifically. Ed really doesn’t like Che’s new album ‘Rest In Bass’ but the rest of us haven't listened so couldn’t possibly comment on anything but that unreal name.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Marina and the Diamonds ‘Electric Heart’ because music kind of peaked at that point and has gone down hill since.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

The basslines. Only the basslines and nothing else. That’s what the whole band wants and it is not the opinion of just one member.

Photography By: Gabriel Forrest

Hailing from Somerset but now firmly planted in Manchester, SLAP RASH is a sibling duo crafting a sound that is anything but subtle. Their frantic noise rock is a vibrant reflection of both their roots and the electric energy of their adopted city. With their latest single 'Chokeheld', they delve into the tension between longing and stagnation, showcasing their evolution as artists unafraid to embrace improvisation. In this conversation, they share insights about their creative process, the role of collaboration, and the unique moments that come with touring. Their candidness reveals a duo deeply engaged with their craft and the world around them, always eager to push boundaries.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We’re SLAP RASH. Siblings from Somerset but residing in Manchester for the best part of a decade now. We make frantic noise rock.

How did the creative process for your latest single 'Chokeheld' differ from your previous releases?

Chokeheld came about from a riff Huw brought to rehearsal. We built this song more ‘in the room’ (whereas in the past we’ve spent alot of time on demos before workshopping live). The whole ending was basically improvised in the studio too which was good fun. We tend to bounce off the studio atmosphere to help develop our songs. Amelia has reams of lyrics so we pick the ones that feel closest to the sonic elements and run with a theme from there.

Can you share some insights into the themes or messages behind 'Chokeheld’?

‘Chokeheld’ is about the tension between internal desires and external realities. The suffocating feeling of being trapped in an environment that doesn’t fulfill you, yet not being able to fully escape it. It’s the weight of boredom that makes you feel like you’re choking on your own thoughts, craving something new, but too hesitant to dive fully in. It’s a flirtation with rebellion, chasing the brief thrill of stepping outside your comfort zone, but always followed by the return to reality the next morning.

What role does collaboration play in your music, especially considering your work with other artists like Samuel William Jones?

Sam’s our producer, he’s awesome. Collaborating with someone who really understands you and your vision, and isn’t afraid to push you to go further / achieve more, is a privilege. The writing tends to be an isolated task done between us two, but we’re very open to collaboration (particularly during the recording process). We just want to make the best version of the song possible.

How do you balance your individual artistic visions while working together as a sibling duo in Slap Rash?

We have very different tastes on paper. I think it’s taken time but we’re both open to genre-bending and just rolling with what one of us feels passionately about. I think we both try to absorb as much music and art as possible. It makes such a difference going into writing sessions when you expand your influences. We’re always learning from each other. It’s all about saying “yes, and?”

Can you describe the visual aesthetic you aim for in your music videos or live performances, and how does it enhance your sound?

Our music videos always come from a little nugget of an idea from Amelia. We’re not afraid to throw some overt imitation in there. The Chokeheld music video is a (big) nod to Chris Morris’ ‘Jam’ for example. We’ve pulled in influences from David Lynch, David Firth, Terry Gilliam. Our videographer Seth Lloyd takes Amelia’s ideas and amplifies it. The live ethos has always been unwavering. Our music is aggressive, and the physicality in the performance follows. Our favourite bands have an energy that bleeds into the audience, we share this goal.

What are some of the most memorable moments from your recent tours, especially when supporting bands like Mandy, Indiana and Ditz?

The Mandy, Indiana tour was excellent. I think we really learned a lot about playing well and steady every night. And beyond supporting bands we’re absolutely massive fans of, there are so many completely unique moments in touring that form stories you’ll remember forever. It’s something that always floors me (Amelia) every night - the kindness, quirkiness, hospitality and love outpouring from complete strangers in towns I might never have visited otherwise. It’s so special. Having a great tour manager also really helps (so underrated but critical for success). Shout out Giorgio Carbone.

How do you see your music evolving in the coming years, and what new directions would you like to explore?

We’re pushing to develop our songwriting and grow with it every day. Amelia’s been dying to get a sludgy metal track on a record so maybe that’ll pop up soon. Or we might run with Huw’s fascination with noise - taking the live show to another level. We just want to get heavier and heavier.

What role does your Manchester background play in shaping your sound, and how does it influence your identity as artists?

Coming to Manchester from Somerset was obviously a big change, and one we both really craved. Manchester nurtured us from day 1 and we’ve pretty much had our foot on the gas ever since our very first gig. I think whatever you want to say about us, it’s undeniable that we’re relentless in our pursuit, and Manchester completely facilitate that for us.

How do you engage with your local community, and what impact do you hope your music has on those around you?

We engage by being present and saying yes. We try our best to have our finger on the button - and whether we’re contributing by playing fundraisers or championing independent venues, I hope we’re able to give back a little bit to what the city has given to us.

What do you love right now?

Right now we’re in the van driving through Belgium and we’re loving Arlequin sweets and their indistinguishable yet pleasant flavour, sleeping in synthesiser bedrooms, Picon aperitif a l’orange, exploring cities we’ve never seen before. Rider dinners.

What do you hate right now?

Hating having to hold in this piss because there’s no fucking services for miles.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Amelia: I’m listening to Facelift by Alice in Chains. That album really opened the door to heavy music for me, and though my taste has definitely reached new screaming depths, that album is so important to me and always will be. 1 min 55 in ‘Sunshine’ blew my fucking brain out my ears.

Huw: Demon Days by Gorillaz is the only answer for me. The atmosphere and mood it establishes throughout is genius. Timeless album.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

The energy. The urgency. The storytelling.

Formed in London but rooted in far-flung hometowns from Pennsylvania to Malaysia, Dog Saints are a band built on friendship, reflection, and a shared love of emotionally raw guitar music. With their latest release ‘Wrestlevania,’ they capture the weight of memory and the warmth of collaboration, pairing heavy textures with heartfelt sincerity. We spoke with vocalist and guitarist Will and guitarist Hafiz about the origins of their sound, recording their debut studio tracks, and why their shows always end with one simple message: tell your friends you love them.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Will: “My name is Will and I sing and play guitar in Dog Saints. I’m from the US but have lived in the UK for most of my life and met all my bandmates at university in London, where we’re still (mostly) based. I like to think of myself as making very American music. Most of what I write about involves my own memories of boyhood and seeing my family back in Pennsylvania. Sonically, too, I’d say we definitely pull a lot from modern American shoegaze and emo bands. When I was younger Midwest Emo was the main point of inspiration for me but now I’d say we take just as much from slowcore and ‘heavy’ shoegaze bands out of the Philly scene.

Hafiz: “I’m Hafiz, and I play guitar in the band. I’m from Malaysia, but grew up in Saudi Arabia with a bunch of American Mormons, which must have had some sort of subliminal influence on me in a way I can’t quite describe. Musically though, I owe a lot to the shoegaze scene in South East Asia, having grown up playing in a pretty twee dream pop band in high school. It’s really strange looking back on that now in the context of Dog Saints, where the kind of music that informs my writing is much more Skramz, Midwest Emo, and Americana influenced, and feels like a far cry from what I grew up listening to and all the albums that have been important in my life. Endserenading by Mineral is pretty much my holy grail now.

Can you share the story behind the title ‘Wrestlevania’ and how it reflects the themes present in your music?

Will: “It’s kind of amazing that we still haven’t changed the name for this song. When I wrote it I had just been watching the Vince McMahon documentary on Netflix and was reflecting a lot on my own memories around sports and fighting in the US and how you take that stuff in when you’re young. I don’t have any brothers but my uncle was a college wrestler and my dad was always trying to teach me how to be at least kinda able to defend myself. I have this memory of him trying to teach me how to put someone in a headlock while we were back in the US visiting all my cousins. I guess he was afraid I'd become soft and European. I’m still a coward anyway.

The actual title was a pun I came up with on my own in a kind of ‘how is this not already a thing’ way. On further research many people have already tried to combine vampires and wrestling in media. I see ourselves as part of a long and proud lineage.”

Hafiz: “To summarise: its called Wrestlevania cause I thought it was a really funny name and never wanted to change it”

Can you tell us more about the lyrics in the track?

Will: “I always write lyrics improvisationally at first and then try to fashion them into something more coherent as I move along. When I wrote this song I was going over a lot of weird half memories of watching people beat the shit out of each other on TV and then being surrounded by these, like, cultural dregs of sports. I remember making my cousin cry cause I told him his WWE ‘Hell in a Cell’ model cage was stupid. I guess I’m sorry Xavier.”

What was the recording process like for your debut studio release, and how did it differ from your previous singles?

Will: “I’m so happy with these songs cause they’re the first tracks that we’ve properly cut in something close to a studio. We could really try to make everything sound huge and it was such a blessing working with Judwyn (from Thistle). I am still really proud of our two previous singles but it feels so rewarding to be getting closer to our live sound on record. I still love making stuff in my bedroom but sometimes I feel like music doesn’t just have to feel intimate…. These are singles you could cut a car crash compilation to.”

Hafiz:. The recording process was just as satisfying. Angus McAlpine was kind enough to let us use his space, and we can’t thank him enough. We were shacked up in his parents’ lovely house in Northampton, with our drummer Harry tracking drums in the front entrance. The actual recording studio was in the back of the house, and had all this incredible vintage gear and was a super cozy space to track guitars and vocals in. Gus tracked all of his bass parts at Judwyn’s house, and I think that blend between having some DIY comfort but also having access to a great recording space kept us really relaxed, as everything still felt really familiar. It was also a huge breath of fresh air to be out of London with the band, and it really kept us all in a headspace that felt super light and open.

Judwyn really understood what we wanted out of the singles - it’s awesome being able to sit in a studio for hours and experiment with feedback, pedal tones, and slide guitar, all guided by our incredibly talented and articulate producer. All of our previous releases are really lo-fi, with us all either recording in our living room or Will recording in his bedroom by himself. There’s a real charm to that though and I think we preserved some of that juice for Wrestlevania and Hornets.”

What role does collaboration play in your songwriting, and how do you balance individual contributions within the band?

Will: “Wrestlevania makes me so happy cause it’s the first song that we’ve properly written together. It still feels like a real Dog Saints song to me but we all love playing it so much more cause we’re not trying to follow a vision that is only mine. The whole band started with trying to play songs where I’d written and recorded every part which was challenging and exciting in its own ways but I find it way easier now to bring songs and ideas that I’ve written into rehearsals and try to work them out together. I feel like it makes for a much more coherent live set. Dog Saints still feels like ‘my’ project in a way because I actually don’t have any other outlet for music (check out our bassist Gus and Hafiz’s band Bridal next time there’s a show; it's so much more hype live) but balance isn’t really that important to me. I feel like we all finally get what Dog Saints is trying to be so we run with what feels right.”

Hafiz: “Will is the brain and backbone of the band’s songwriting, and it’s amazing to get to make music with someone so talented. He makes my job incredibly easy, being able to tune into his playing and thought process when writing my parts. Gus and Harry (both being jazz musicians) are miles ahead of me and Will musically, and bring this technical quality to the music that really shines through live and on record. I love that it feels like a puzzle sometimes, with us all trying to craft Will’s broad ideas into one coherent structure, and trying to figure out how we all fit in.”

As a relatively new band on the scene, how do you feel about the current music community in London?

Will: “I’ve honestly been really surprised how welcome we’ve felt playing shows around London. For all the bullshit I’ve heard about the city being full of dead post punk, we’ve just been playing shows with our buddies and we’ve always had fun. I kinda get a kick out of playing such American music at places like the Windmill, which were such angsty British ‘post Brexit punk’ spaces in my imagination but that’s about it. There is a tendency for some people to take things too seriously but we don’t tend to play shows with them twice. We did a show recently where our friends had their first show with their new band Sweet Fish. They ripped and it was so joyful watching people get a kick out playing live for kind of the first time. That’s always the best shit.”

Hafiz: “London is our home and breathes a lot of life into what we strive towards as a band, but it can feel intimidating and disconnected sometimes with a music scene that’s so massive and rapidly-evolving. That said, there’s such a great wealth of bands all around the UK, especially in the DIY scene, that have built a community that really takes care of its own and celebrates everyone in it. Bands like My Rushmore, Shoplifting, I’m Sorry Emil, and Bearhug are absolutely tearing it up right now and it’s a really nice feeling to call them friends.”

What can fans expect from your upcoming live shows, and how do you prepare for performing in front of an audience?

Hafiz: “I think we’re learning to be a lot more confident on stage than we have been in the past. The less we tweak, the slimmer the chance of shit going wrong on stage! I think we’re all still really nervous people, and playing live hasn’t always been super comfortable for us - there's something about looking the crowd in the eye that still really freaks me out. Now though, I think we all have our little rituals before going on - I for one usually need to sit alone in a corner and doomscroll at least 10 minutes before we play.”

Will: “Hafiz is definitely right that we’ve reached a point where being on stage is just way more enjoyable, at least compared to how it used to be. I work full time in a school now so getting on stage feels like more of a release and a joy now than it’s ever been. In terms of preparation the thing that feels most important to me is actually the first song that we play. We always start with an instrumental intro called ‘Cusser’ and it kills my nerves cause I get to play without singing. Everyone gets their time to lock in.”

Can you talk about any challenges you faced while writing and recording your latest tracks and how you overcame them?

Will: “Honestly the offer from Judwyn and Thistle to come down and record with them for free relieved a lot of the stress we were feeling. They’re just such lovely guys and we are eternally grateful. I guess in some way we felt a pressure not to fuck up in the two days we had in studio but we knocked out two songs in two days and we couldn’t have had things go any better. The moment Judwyn whipped out the slide guitar I knew we were cooking. Compared to the last couple of singles, which involved making bedroom demos I already had presentable enough to release, technically everything was really straightforward. Getting everything mastered and booking shows has been a little tougher with Hafiz going back to Malaysia after college but I know we’re getting him back soon. Our buddy Matt has joined on guitar since Hafiz has been away and he is such an incredible musician it would be wrong to call that a challenge.”

How do you see your music evolving in the next few years, and what new directions are you excited to explore?

Will: ‘I’ve finally got into like actual screamo music recently and I’ll see where that takes me. I could never really scream but I do just want to make some stuff that feels really heavy live. Gabe (from Paper Hats) put me onto the Australian band Doris recently and that kinda changed a lot . At the same time I have a deep and unabating need to acquire a pedal steel.”

Hafiz: “I think we let Gus cook on his DS and see what happens…”

What do you love right now?

Hafiz: “The new TAGABOW and Wednesday albums.”

Will: “Not having a pedalboard and the new A Country Western singles. ‘Clouds’ is such a beautiful song.”

What do you hate right now?

Hafiz: “art-punk”

Will: “the LA Dodgers and the Blockchain are conspiring against me… But seriously, people are too ironic about trying to be good. I don’t think kitsch is real anymore- just be nice!”

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

Hafiz: “I think Deceiver by DIIV is an album that I’ll always come back to. It’s probably their best work, and all the ideas on it and Sonny DiPerri’s production elements are still so powerful. It’s been a really big reference for me sonically for the last 6 years, and it just rips. That or You Will Never Know Why by Sweet Trip - such an incredible album.”

Will: “I still get periods in my life where I can only listen to Alex G. When ‘Collar’ came out and all our similar artists were all scam accounts reposting forgotten Alex G and Skin Cells songs that was weirdly rewarding. DSU is still probably my favourite album.”

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Hafiz: “I really want people to have a lot of fun listening to our stuff! We love shifting around stylistically and I think there’s a lot of different sides of Dog Saints that we’re really excited to express. I believe that there’s a special kind of sincerity present in the things that people create and put out into the world, and I hope people will pick up on the musical lexicon and little details that really define the music we make.

Will: “I just hope it makes them think about their friends. I try to write these really naive songs that are just about trying to be a good person. We have this thing at every show where the last thing I say is always ‘tell your friends you love them.’ It felt kinda dumb at first but I think I’ll do it forever. Tell your friends you love them. Do it now.”

Photography By: Malvina Tessitore

Rory, the creative mind behind Flypaper, is a London-based singer-songwriter with roots scattered across various landscapes. His debut album, Forget The Rush, captures a contemplative spirit, encouraging listeners to slow down and savor life’s chaos. With a DIY ethos honed from his time in the band Beachtape, Rory crafts mid-fi soft rock that feels both intimate and relatable. In this conversation, he opens up about his songwriting process and the quirks of home recording.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

Rory, London based song singer from all over.. Mid fi soft rock singer song writer alternative kinda sad kinda sad happy.

What inspired you to choose the title Forget The Rush for your debut album, and how does it reflect the themes within?

The title is an ode to slowing down, it’s a running theme throughout the album and maybe throughout my life to be honest.

Can you share your songwriting process?

I usually just sit and play guitar and hope to come up with ideas that stick. I keep notebooks full of words and chord ideas, that are usually illegible because my handwriting is so bad so I keep voice notes on my phone too, I have hundreds, maybe thousands of them. I listen to them when I’m on the Tube sometimes and constantly try to figure out what I’m mumbling or what tuning I decided to use that day.

Do you typically start with lyrics, melodies, or a specific emotion that you want to express?

There is no formula, it constantly changes. I like to write quickly and not over think things, often I’ll go back to a song and find a whole new meaning or emotion in something that I wasn’t aware of at the time. My songwriting is like my diary I guess, I look back and seriously regret saying / writing / recording things sometimes but that's life.

How did your experiences growing up across different locations influence your music and the stories you tell through your songs?

Honestly I don’t know, I guess I’ve found solace in music since a kid. I think that's always made me gravitate towards chill music.

In what ways do you feel your previous band, Beachtape, shaped your artistic identity as Flypaper and your current sound?

In Beachtape we always really focused on a DIY approach which helped me learn and build the foundation for my approach as musician. There are similarities in sound but I think flypaper has a more simple approach.

Is there a particular song on Forget The Rush that you feel most connected to, and why does it resonate with you personally?

One of my favourites is the intro song Fold, I put it together between recording songs in January, without the intention of putting in on the album or really writing a song. It really has no structure and feels calm but chaotic and felt like good intro into the other songs for the record.

How did you approach the recording process in your bedroom?

I approached every song differently, sometimes the songs changed drastically as I record them. We recorded drums in a studio in Dalston then everything else in my bedroom with the exception of some pedal steel done in Robbie our guitar player's house. I have 1 mic I used for everything and most electric guitar is DI’d. I'm trying my hardest but honestly mostly winging it.

Did the intimate setting impact the sound and feel of the album?

Yeah absolutely, my space and skills definitely challenge the process in a way which I enjoy too. I live in an old office building with like 17 people too, so often I'm singing super quiet when everyone’s asleep, trying to be quiet. If you listen carefully enough you can hear doors being slammed, washing up and constant chatter in the background too. I think the imperfections of home recording give songs a real character which you cant get in a studio sometimes.

What role do visuals play in your music?

Defo, I was really into this clown called Emmet Kelley, I’ve made nods to him in a few of my videos and artworks, this kind of down-and-out character. I like to keep the visuals similarly scrappy/lofi to the music too, but I also make most of my artwork / videos myself as well, again have no skills so winging it there too.

As you prepare for your UK tour, what are you most excited about in connecting with your audience during live performances?

I'm excited to play songs off the album, we’ve been slowly introducing new songs over the last few shows. The live set is heavier and also softer than before, bringing some chill but enjoying also giving it a bit more welly too is fun.

Are there any particular artists or genres that have influenced your sound while creating Forget The Rush?

I don’t think I’ll live down Elliott Smith comparisons, not that I think I’m anywhere near as good, but I love his songwriting and sounds ofc. A lot of 70s stuff and singer songwriters like Michael Hurley to things like Pavement inspire me. But mostly I just love good songs and try to write good tunes.

What do you love right now?

*This week I'm loving autumn & making risotto also a band called snuggle that put an album out recently, been soundtracking my morning cycle to works - it's good vibes.

What do you hate right now?

All love dudeeee.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

I'd say anything blink 182, its the first music I ever fell in love when I was like 8 years old and made me want to play guitar, Take Off Your Pants and Jacket still takes me back to a time and place whenever I listen, somewhere in an alternative universe I’m rocking 3/4 length Dickies, a sideways cap with my guitar down by my knees.

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

I have no expectations, I hope they can vibe for like like 3 minutes and maybe come back for more.

Beguiling Junior’s Oli and Kaya have carved out a strange, swaggering corner of London’s rock scene. Their debut, AI on Cocaine, turns overstimulation and absurdity into something uncomfortably human. Produced by Spiritualized’s J Spaceman, the record captures a band figuring things out on stage and refusing to sand down the rough edges. In conversation, they’re sharp, self-effacing and just the right amount of unhinged.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We’re Beguiling Junior, a band made up of Oli and Kaya. We met in a dive bar. The music sits somewhere between classic rock and sociable collapse

Where did the name Beguiling Junior come from?

It came out of a conversation about the name of blues singers we like, ie Junior Kimbrough.

“Beguiling” felt like a word that was nice and slippery, and “Junior” makes it sound like a hand-me-down.

What inspired the title “AI on Cocaine,” and how does it reflect the themes or emotions in your music?

“AI on Cocaine” came from spending too much time in rooms where conversation felt generated by the same algorithm. It’s about overstimulation, politeness, and what happens when everyone’s talking but no one’s listening. The song laughs while quietly panicking.

Can you share some details about the creative process behind your debut album?

We wrote the album largely on stage by booking a lot of venues in London last winter and doing “workshops”, we wanted to figure out the songs in front of our audience and friends to see where they giggled, what tempo the songs worked best in etcetera.

How was the album produced?

The record was produced by J Spaceman of Spiritualized and recorded by Laurie Erskine

We spent a week trying to find “the one” take on take on take. Added some tasty bits and got the record mixed by Elliot Heinrich

What was the most challenging aspect for you?

Maintaining the stamina it takes to finish something.

How did your previous experiences in Yak influence the sound and direction of Beguiling Junior?

I don’t believe it did.

Visual storytelling seems important in your work. How did you collaborate with Ben Crook to bring your vision to life in the video?

Ben understood immediately the idea of having two voyeurs never revealing each other. It was a simple concept but a lot of fun!

With your upcoming London shows, what can fans expect in terms of setlist and overall experience?

We will play our record! Old audience members can expect a new song about Goths In The Sun

What themes or concepts do you find yourself gravitating towards when writing lyrics, and how do they evolve during the process?

We gravitate towards domesticity. “Cuckoo” is kind of a meta-commentary on the band itself. It’s written from the perspective of a jaded listener who dismisses the band “Honestly, this kind of guys do nothing for me… it’s not my cup of tea.” We often work the ordinary, writing lyrics that sound like small talk, songs about hardwood floors, or about being someone’s (Pavlovian) dog. A way of testing how far you can push something mundane before it starts to mean something else?

What do you love right now?

The sound of things that aren’t compressed.

What do you hate right now?

The term Post truth

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Imagines of domestic bliss on a remote island …

Formed when they were just fourteen, Red Ivory are Berry, Frida, Eiliyah and Ivy, a four-piece whose sound captures the turbulence of growing up and finding identity in noise. Their new EP Please Leave, I Need To Wake Up Now is both reflection and release, shaped by years of change and recorded through Festival Republic’s ReBalance scheme at Strongroom Studios with producer Adele Phillips. Across its tracks, they explore dependence, self-definition and the cathartic power of volume. Still learning, still pushing, and now ready to tour, Red Ivory are a young band whose honesty cuts straight through the distortion.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

We are Berry, Frida, Eiliyah and Ivy from south east London, and as Red Ivory we write and perform music inspired by grunge, post punk and alternative rock. We started playing together in 2021 when we were 14.

What inspired the title Please Leave, I Need To Wake Up Now and how does it reflect the themes within your EP?

The title came about in conversation while we were discussing how the EP was made — over such a long time and during so many environmental and interpersonal changes. It reflects the ideas of change, dependence and identity within the project.

How was the EP produced?

The EP was produced at Strongroom Studios, Shoreditch in July 2024 with producer Adele Phillips. We were connected with Adele through Festival Republic’s ReBalance scheme, which also helped us out with getting the studio time, mixing by Orla Carey and mastering by Natalie Bibby. We had two days of pre-production with Adele that helped us get way more comfortable in the studio, and then the EP was recorded over three long days.

Can you describe your collaborative songwriting process?

Rather than starting off our songwriting with acoustic guitar, a set of chords and a melody, we more often than not create a song around a short musical idea that one of us comes up with, and then develop the texture, instrumentation or structure from there. We often have an instrumental base that we have written all together before it becomes a complete song with vocals. This may have come from the fact that we never used to rehearse or write with a microphone. It also helps that all of us can play some guitar, meaning each of our ideas bleed into the different parts.

How did recording at Strongroom Studios shape the evolution of these tracks, and what were some memorable moments during those sessions?

One of the most memorable moments from the recording sessions was definitely recording the scream in My Mind, which we saved until last so we didn’t mess up any of our voices for recording vocals or BVs on the other tracks. It was a cathartic and fun way to end the recording process, which was obviously really fun and creative but also got pretty tiring at points. In terms of shaping the tracks, the time in the studio definitely allowed us to be way more experimental sonically, playing around more with overdubs, effects and vocals in particular, which we can’t do as much with in a live set.

What’s been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as a band since forming, and how has it influenced your music?

One of the biggest challenges we faced as a band was definitely our age up until this year or the end of last year. We weren’t able to play in a lot of venues, or had to do so sneakily, which especially at the start meant that we really had to focus on our songwriting over our live set if we wanted to be taken seriously rather than passed off because of how young we were. This was also the reason we initially recorded and released an EP in 2023 in a pretty rushed way, because we felt like we needed to prove ourselves in order to bypass the age thing.

What role does visual art play in your music, whether it’s in music videos, artwork, or your social media presence?

We have definitely started being more specific with our visual output lately, whereas before none of us considered it too much to be honest. Berry has always done all of our artwork though, so it has definitely always been really directly reflective of where we were as a band. Social media presence is obviously insanely important for new bands, and luckily in going about that we have managed to be really creative and have loads of fun, like during a photo shoot with Addy Nzerem (who did our EP promo photos) in Peckham or in creating the single artworks amongst ourselves and with our friends Ethan Holt and Rosalie Salkeld. We have done a couple of music videos with friends, and are definitely wanting to do more of that kind of thing in the campaign for our new EP.

How have your influences changed since you started making music together, and what new sounds or genres are you exploring?

Our influences have definitely diversified since we first started out, as initially we were very directly inspired by genres like 90s indie rock, grunge and shoegaze, whereas now we have more of an idea of what our own sound is, so when we write we are now able to adapt ideas from dissimilar genres and make them our own. For example, personally I (Ivy) have had elements of folk on my mind recently. I also definitely want to get more into specific, experimental guitar sounds.

What does the future look like for Red Ivory, and how do you envision your sound evolving in the coming years?

We definitely want to tour — that’s a huge aspiration for us. Also record new music, hopefully maybe an album. I think the sound will probably just organically evolve as we do; there is no clear sonic plan, but we know we definitely want to keep our momentum up and keep on working at it.

What do you love right now?

“I love cherry tomatoes and heeled boots.” – Ivy

“I love handbags and girls screaming.” – Eiliyah

“Right now I love Jack Off Jill’s album Clear Hearts Grey Flowers.” – Berry

What do you hate right now?

“I hate my broken AirPods.” – Ivy

“I hate the performative male trend and small plates.” – Eiliyah

“I hate flip flops.” – Berry

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?

“I’m still listening to Heaven or Las Vegas by Cocteau Twins because it made me feel really cool when I was 14. And Plastic Beach by Gorillaz because it was one of the only CDs we had in my car when I was growing up.” – Ivy

“Lush’s Lovelife album because it was the first album that made me love rock music when I was like 14.” – Eiliyah

“I still listen to Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars because it was an album that all my older siblings used to sing to me most nights. – Berry

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

We hope that the drive within our music sticks with people, because we feel like that’s a constant presence in our tracks and one that we aim to maintain. We also hope that the ease and smoothness of the writing process comes through the tracks and sticks to them.

Alternating between twee and screams, Most Things paint a vivid and poetic image of London life through a mix of minimalism and complexity. Their rattling bass and drums capture everything from sentimental whimsy to haunted memories, all with sincerity and precision. Like Young Marble Giants and Life Without Buildings before them, they cut through a growing indie landfill with skill and simplicity. Chatting with singer and bassist Tom Grey makes it clear that his process and personality are deeply reflected in Most Things’ debut LP, Bigtime. As he discusses his artistic methods and the importance of the mundane, it rapidly becomes evident: Most Things is a project with a powerful heart, and you can hear it beating on every track.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us? Can you tell us who you are, where you're from and about the music you make?

I'm Tom from Most Things, which is the band that this interview is about, and it's a two piece band and I sing and play bass with a drummer who is usually Malachy O'Neill. He's the main guy. He's from New York. And then I sometimes play with other people at gigs and things. And I'm from London and I have hair and two legs and two arms, so that was who I am. The music that I make in in most things is made of bass and drums, and voice, and nothing else generally. It's a minimal attempt at utilising mundane things and mythologising mundane things to seek a kind of universal, cathartic, surreal enlightenment. That's the sort of y’know Ted talk pitch and music, but yeah, it's been described as industrial folk in a review. That reference to Pere Ubu and that that description of the music is my favourite way to talk about it in genre terms anyway.

Do you think the mundane is a major element of most things and what you're doing with most things?

Yeah, I think so. Especially at the moment it's been a core focus of the subjects. Also, I think the methodology. It's trying to be quite simple and considerate with without much fluff, I suppose. 

From the start were you a two piece or did you ever experiment with having more members or instruments in the band?

It just so happened to be that way and then I’ve never felt the need for it to be any other way. I think at some point it might evolve. I mean, it's not a particularly ideological commitment to the singularity of two people being the only people and these instruments being the only instruments. It just sort of feels like it works, and I do have a tendency to like the simple ideas that work. So, if something is simple and works, then I'd rather not change it.  But it is I think it's a good gimmick as well, so maybe I should make up a sort of excessive, intense and extreme ideological reasoning for it being that way.

Maybe include a manifesto around the reasoning in the next release.

Yeah, yeah, a big manifesto and maybe do some sort of political act of violence. (laughs)

With your debut Bigtime, a lot of it is really centred around London. It's almost psycho-geographical. Do you feel London is kind of a key part of Most Things?

Yeah, sure I do. Especially for now. Again, it's one of those things that I could see changing. It's in one way, very essential in in a in another way, inconsequential to the obsession with London, because it could be anything. It's just London is what I know, and there's certainly the aesthetics of the sound, my accent and the way I use my voice and stuff, it all feels tied to London. I like music that feels of a place. For it to be of place, and about a place, and to have the feeling of the place is again, this seeking out a singularity where it's watertight. A seamless thing that contains itself.

But London also really bores me sometimes and means very little to me. But then it can also mean so much. I don't know. I think it's just the humanity and kind of narrative drama of London that I find very inspiring on a good day. And that’s why the music has it in there.

The term magical realism comes up a lot when people describe your lyrics. How does it play into Most Things music?

It’s certainly there. I don't know if it's intentional. I didn’t intend to do it from the get-go. But yeah, now it’s about trying to open up these mundane, commonplace things and seek something a bit surreal in it. It's what I've said before, this kind of seeking of universality. I think that magic realism is a great tool for finding that. Y’know, everyone can feel wonderment. Everyone has put on a kettle before. So, if you can combine these things. Then I think there's a way to engender feeling or tell a universal story, or yeah.

A lot of the lyrics seem built around personal experiences. What was the lyric writing process for the album like?

To be fair, most of the writing process was having a gig coming up and having to sing something. So then writing a song very quickly and then never getting around to changing it. That's always how it happens, I think. I think that's probably a very common thing with bands and songs, that you do something quickly and it becomes what it is. And then trying to reverse engineer a deeper meaning or more poeticism, or a better metaphor or something that goes beyond your own experience.

Something that doesn't exploit your personal experience and friends and family for artistic content y’know, it's like trying to do that post having done and having done the act. It's a bit impossible. So, a lot of that stuff, I didn't really want to commit to a record when I wrote it. It just came out. You can write about personal things very quickly and it takes me a lot more time to write about stuff that I haven’t directly lived or felt. It spills out quite quickly and once you sing it a few times, it's it kind of becomes a song. They’re never written thinking ‘oh, yeah, that's gonna be a song.’ But then you do it and you're like, I guess it must be.

On the more instrumental side of songwriting, I found your bass playing on the record really interesting especially its focus on melody. Were there any bassists in particular who influenced your style?

I don't think there was really. I mean what I imagine one’s mind jumps to is Peter Hook, Joy Division’s bassist. I do like Joy Division, but I never had a sort of obsessive Joy Division moment and nothing like that ever led me to writing on the bass. The way I wrote everything on the bass was quite uninformed by other music. I mean, I've never learned how to play another song on bass other than Pop Tones by PiL and Harvest Time by Pharoah Sanders.

That's a good two to know though.

(laughs) I mean, I can't really do the Pharoh Sanders track justice, obviously. If you listen closely, to it you can hear the bassist singing along to what he's doing. It's so amazing to listen. Just out of this world stuff. Pop Tones as well, it's just such a great bassline. But I've always felt a bit outside of like music as a practise and like not very good at just picking up songs or, you know, I don't know. I've been hanging out with some friends, Earl Cave, who's an amazing musician and just he's so tapped into songwriting as a practise and the blues and country music and can pull out these songs out of that legacy. I've always really loved that but can't have felt quite awkward in those shoes. So, when playing the bass and writing the songs I kind of purposely tried to not take in inspiration or reference other players just because if I do that, I generally disappoint myself. So, it's often like an outsider approach by virtue of that being the only way I can feel like I'm doing something of merit. I think with the bass you can write a song with it. But yeah, you start to just get more melodic because the longer you go without getting the guitarist on board, the more you your fingers start seeking out a bit more juice from the four strings.

You mentioned feeling like an outsider to music, are there any musicians’ whose methodology or practise or style informed how you make music?

I love that classic outsider artist like Daniel Johnston, of course. My friend James, who I make music with, he has down syndrome and he's fucking, just a genius. He's like Scott Walker, Leonard Cohen and Lou Reed put together. He's just an amazing drummer and sings.  He’ll pick up the guitar and just fucking play it, y’know, and not try and play any sort of chord. He'll just play the guitar and start singing and it'll be a song. So that approach is very inspiring. Someone in particular is Mica Levi. Just one of my all-time most inspiring artists, seeking refuge in the work of their stuff just really keeps me going. It was a real way for me to break down the feeling of inadequacy as a musician, because their approach to songwriting is just so free, and bombastic, and sincere. They’re an incredible musician, obviously, and scored films and stuff like this, but listening to their work makes me feel like I could score films.

If you were to score a film, what sort of film would you score?

When I was in school, I did a project scoring for film and scored a bit of Rat Catcher,  the Lynn Ramsey film so maybe something like that. I love that whole kind of British realist cinema stuff.

Like Ken Loach?

Yeah Ken Loach, Mike Leigh, and Antonia Bird. Not so realistic, but I just love Antonia bird so much. I'd love to do really pulpy TV like an episode of Casualty, just trying to shoehorn kind of experimental sound design stuff into some daytime TV like an episode of the Chase. That'd be fun. 

You also do a lot of promotions work as part of Atomizer within the London scene. How do you feel Most Things fits into the London scene?

I don't think I'm a good person to ask because I've always felt a bit outside of it and still do. But I think it's imposter syndrome and just having a very fragile little ego, or a fragile big ego I suppose. I never really feel like part of the gang, but then that's just being cynical. I mean, there's definitely a scene. I have a bunch of friends. The London scene is just friends really, and in that way, it's great, and a bit cliquey. But it feels like the music scene has a similar sort of politics to social scenes and structures and stuff. So yeah, there’s a brilliant scene of friends making great music like Sydenham High Road, Tony Martin who’s very close, I don't know if he would want me to reveal the identity, I suppose really, but he's involved in Most Things in an undisclosable way. UV Raymond is a friend of mine called Lewis who has just started releasing music, but he's got a heavy, extensive SoundCloud that's incredible. And then Mimi my girlfriend who makes music as Mimiko and in Bell Practice with Earl Cave who I mentioned earlier. Just a lot of friends making great stuff. People in the atomizer world as well. Like we had this tour with Elias Rønnenfelt and then Xmal was playing drums for Double Virgo. Yeah, there's a few little words in London, but at the same time I always felt like a bit of a bit of a pariah, bit of a leper, social leper. I think maybe my head's just too far up my own ass. 

Do you feel like there's any sort of achievement that would make you stop feeling like a social leper?

I don't know. I don't want to say anything cynical, but yeah, there's certain things. I don't know if I want to feel that and I don't think it's necessarily real anyway. Your personal impression of your social standing in, your own world is something I think you can't have an objective sense of y’know. That being said it's probably drugs that’ll be the ticket. Maybe a good line of ketamine will do it (laughs). Maybe not ketamine that can go either way. But yeah, I think there's other measures of success, like having a having a core fan base that’s get something out of the music.

Anyone getting anything out of the music makes me feel like I've made it, so to speak.

What direction do you feel like the music’s going in after the release of big time?

There’s a lot more stuff that's written. The drummer said that the second Most Things album is like the album Green Day released after Dookie. As in, it's a lot weirder. It’s a bit more mathy and there’s a lot more stuff that’s written, it’s a bit showier offy. The future sound of Most Things is very open. I want it to be either, almost extremist minimal, pair it back further and further to doing of only guttural stomach sounds. Or really maximalist and bringing in lots and lots of sounds and more electronics. But I'm also I'm learning a new instrument that might change everything.

What’s the instrument?

It’s a reed based instrument, it's the sound of reeds.  The sound of reeds is a sound I love and have loved since before the bass guitar, so I think it might be where I end up sonically.

But I don't know, it’s quite at the whim of the wind at the moment.

What do you love right now?

The Moors, devons moors, Dartmoor, I’ve been there recently and loved it. Tap water, really loving tap water at the moment. Sleep, I really love sleep. Sweet Thames Run Softly that was the last book I read, and I loved it. That was recommended by Stuart Moxon of Young Michael Giants, big fan.

What do you hate right now?

The experience of time in a digitally interfaced world, I suppose is what I hate. I was talking about this last night with friends about how the phone and scrolling and emailing and all these things. They're sort of not so bad in themselves, but it's the gap between that experience of time and the experience of time in the real world, or the physical world. I think a lot of my discontent comes from shifting gears between cycling downhill on a lime bike and then waiting for my 4G to load so I can lock the thing. And those experiences of reality being like on such different levels that brain my brain just gets spun out by switching between all the time.

What’s an album you're still listening to you from when you were younger and why is it still important to you?

S.K.I.M. It's all caps, with full stops in between. It’s by big Cakes a rapper from north London. I think from not far from where I am. I got this album on Chapel Market when I was like 10 or something and used to listen to it a lot. I'll still come back to it occasionally, and it's just great UK rap stuff. I think it’s the album where I had memorised the most songs. Y’know from the earliest stage, that kind of thing. 

When someone hears your music for the first time, what do you hope sticks with them?

Kind of cathartic optimism, like a righteous melancholia somewhere between sad and good. Nostalgic but true. Somewhere between these things.