FOXES Magazine Issue #8

Page 1





MASTHEAD

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Julian de la Celle

CREATIVE DIRECTOR Tina de la Celle

DIRECTOR OF OPERATIONS Jon Rizzo

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS Theo Gosselin, Imogen Thomas Reuben Lindley, Byron Spencer Hamilton Boyce, Mila F. Gilbert Trejo, Phoebe Fox

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Dan Pare, Natalie Gott Melanie Kaidan, Louis Griffin Willa Rudolph

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SPECIAL THANKS Chris & Nisa @ Good Machine Rick @ Warner Records Natalie @ Muvva PR Matthew @ Super Cat PR Steve @ Carry On Press Brigitte @ The Assembly

If you’re looking to collaborate with us on future content, reach out to us at info@foxesmagazine.com with any inquiries.


MATT MALTESE’S JOYFUL NOSTALGIA IS MUSIC YOU CAN WALLOW IN.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY PHOEBE FOX WORDS BY MELANIE KAIDAN






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here’s one experience every journalist fears and has to go through as a sort of initiation in their career, and that is the panic-inducing realization that an interview wasn’t recorded. It hits you like a ton of bricks but it is something every interviewer has subconsciously prepared for. Some forget to press the record button, while others (including myself) find that they’re unable to open a corrupted file. Luckily, my initiation came after years of experience and with one of the kindest artists I’ve spoken to: Matt Maltese. What was at first intended to be a straightforward phone interview turned into a Zoom call where we both laughed every time we felt the awkwardness of having to repeat what we had already conscientiously spoken about. Regardless of that, the south London singersongwriter’s tranquil demeanor confirmed the first impression I had of him with a genuine, “Don’t be sorry! Honestly, it’s all good”. Maltese says he sees his creations as “nonwallowing music to wallow to.” He adds: “That is a big thing to me. I don’t ever want my music to feel like it pities itself or indulges too much in the sadness. Contrary to what some people might think when they listen [to my music], I try to be as positive as possible about it all, and I think that making music that can make people feel at peace.” But as an artist, he’s aware there are infinite ways to interpret music, and while some like to label his artistic output as sad music, he has adopted a blasé attitude toward what may appear as criticism. “I think there are slightly toxic ways of thinking…” he muses. “But I don’t care what people say about me very much. I love when people say nice things, but if they think I ’m something I’m not, there’s not enough energy to care.” His latest release, “Mystery,” is proof that nostalgic songs can bring listeners some solace to dwell in. Inspired by 50s sounds and visuals, Maltese manages to evoke the decade’s gilded glee.

“I love - I think they’re a 50s band called the Fleetwoods - and their sort of lilting Americana, this kind of sweet/sad thing they do. They express sadness in a sort of happy, at peace way, and I think that is something I connect with. We all want to be at peace if there are sad things that are part of our reality.” The music video for “Mystery” represents these feelings of perfection, with a blissful Maltese riding on the back of a motorcycle and getting lost with his fictional lover in a bucolic dream. “And I think with the video… I didn’t want to make a sad video. I wanted to make a completely shamelessly romantic snapshot of a couple, and I wanted to know what it was like to be on a motorbike, so it was perfect.” I ask him how he feels about thousands of teenagers using “As The World Caves In” as the soundtrack for their TikTok videos amid continuous speculation over who was the real inspiration behind the captivating ballad. Some claim it was conceived as a scornful picture of Theresa May and Donald Trump, while others swear the track was inspired by Maltese’s cat – a theory he fuelled himself with one of his own TikTok videos. “At the time, I imagined this crazy setup with two evil villains blowing up the world and spending their last night on Earth together. I’ve sort of attached it to Theresa May […], and obviously [Donald] Trump was the leader at the time,” Maltese explains. “And I imagined those two, as they were the most powerful people in the West at the time. But, to me, the song is not just this satirical piece. In the moment, it had a bit of that, but I think one of my favorite things about songs is that they can change as time goes on. And I think now it’s got this really strange connection to TikTok, where you have a whole generation of people growing up and hearing how the world will end. It’s sad, but the whole song is a bit silly. It’s a mixture of those two things, I think.”






Speaking of his experience in what to many feels like an apocalyptic world, Maltese says he misses his pre-pandemic social life and the fortuity of not being ruled by lockdown restrictions. “I miss the way in which you could meet people outside of your world more and the openness and possibility of the day, which has disappeared. I think the pandemic has just made things feel a lot more planned and structured and restricted - I’m stating the obvious here - but I do miss the spontaneity of things.” Having just finished up his upcoming album, which is set for release in October, Maltese admits not being able to play live shows has brought along perks of its own. He began songwriting full-time and, through that, met fellow south London artist Joy Crookes. “When the live aspect went, I kind of just started writing for other people. The Joy thing was a session I had at the end of November. We just really got along and became friends and ended up writing songs that will go in her album. I just realized it was something that brought me so much joy; pardon the pun. It was the first time that making music meant being with people because I normally go into my room and write on my own. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy all of that, but I also really like people. I don’t think I’m as much of an introvert as maybe I thought I was.” The “Even If It’s a Lie” singer appreciates the exposure he has enjoyed in the past few years but stresses that he never became dependent on it. “[It just shows] how much I like it when it’s not about me all the time. I’m fine in the spotlight, but I’m not drawn to it. I don’t struggle with it as much as some people do, but I also don’t have an addiction to it. I think the part that I love the most is writing the songs, and being able to do that five days a week has just been great.” Maltese once again exposes his good-tempered nature by concluding our call with a broad grin and a “have a nice day, Melanie!”





Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Suit by Bella Freud


BOBBY GILLESPIE OF PRIMAL SCREAM & JEHNNY BETH OF SAVAGES STAR AS TWO LOVERS AT THE END OF THEIR STORY ON THE NEW RECORD, UTOPIAN ASHES.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY THEO GOSSELIN WORDS BY JULIAN DE LA CELLE


Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Dress by The Vampire’s Wife



“I

‘m sorry, I’m asking you all these personal questions, but it’ll be your turn soon!” laughs Jehnny Beth as we chat, both in English and French, before Bobby Gillespie joins us a few minutes later. She’s very warm and cordial, asking about my family and the origins of the magazine. She seems quite proud of her and Bobby’s new duet’s record “Utopian Ashes,” which was a week away from being released into the sonic stratosphere at the time of this interview. The new record feels inspired by past iconic duos like George Jones and Tammy Wynette, Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris, and Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra. But this isn’t another Primal Scream or Savages record; this is something uniquely their own and a new type of collaboration that neither party had ever done before. It follows the fictional story of two lovers and their struggle to regain the love they once felt. “It was something that Bobby really wanted to talk about, a broken marriage,” says Beth. “That theme wasn’t really something that was being talked about, and so he felt like something needed to be said that hadn’t been said.” I caught up with the two via Zoom to discuss how they met, their new collaboration, and diving into a new form of songwriting. * * *

You guys must be excited; it’s so close to the record being out. When was the last time you guys were together? Bobby Gillespie: A couple of weeks ago in Paris, I believe. Jehnny Beth: Yeah, when Bobby came to Paris to do some promo here. How did the two of you end up meeting one another? Jehnny: Well, we’ve been coming up with different versions, and some of those versions have been printed. I was like, “I can’t believe they believe this!” Do you want the honest truth or the made-up one? Whichever you prefer! Jehnny: Well, the thing is, we can’t really remember. One time at the Saint Laurent fashion show. Then there was another time at the BBC when Bobby was doing promo for the last Primal Scream record, and I was doing promo for Savages. We met in the corridors, and we chatted. And then I think the next time was at that Suicide show when we performed together. And then with Massive Attack, where we sang together again.

Bobby: That was good. We did “Some Velvet Morning,” and there was real chemistry there; it felt really good. It was a big crowd, around 30,000 people in the rain. Then Andrew Innes, Jehnny’s guitarist, came up to me after the show and said, “I think maybe we should ask Jehnny if she wants to try and make some music together.” It was a good idea, I think. It certainly was. I was listening to the album again this morning, and your voices sound so great together. You have such different ways of singing, and when you come together, it sounds beautiful. I’ve always loved these famous duos, like Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood, Johnny Cash and June Carter, etc. How did you guys come up with the concept of fictional lovers whose love is dying? Jehnny: Initially, the first lyrics were my own, and they were quite abstract; the theme wasn’t there yet. Then when Bobby came back to London after working in Paris, he brought the thing t ogether. It was an idea that evolved and became more evident as the record was being written, especially with Bobby’s side of the lyrics. It was something that Bobby really wanted to talk about, a broken marriage, and that there wasn’t really something that was being talked about, and so he felt like something needed to be said that hadn’t been said. Bobby: I wrote my first lyrics around the chorus that Jenny had written for the song that became “Remember We Were Lovers.” She had these great words. “Do you stand like this at the edge of a cliff?” Just the whole thing about this person who stood there, wondering whether they should jump or not, a symbolic image, maybe, but making this life or death decision. It inspired me to go away and write the rest of the verses for that song. I found some freedom in writing those words, and a straightforward, plain-spoken narrative emerged. I wasn’t using metaphor, symbolism, or any literary techniques; it was very clear, very direct, very simple. And that was something that I’d always aspired to as a songwriter. As the record progressed, in terms of writing the lyrics and structuring the songs, and giving them shape and chords and drama, there was a scenario of a marriage of two people living together, but alone and apart. >>


Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Dress by Minimarket



Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Suit by Bella Freud


Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro


>> It seemed to be that I was writing about a story of struggle and dislocation and a great sense of loss. I thought that was a fascinating field to write from in terms of subject matter and emotional pull. I had this feeling that songs that discussed this situation could be songs that many people could relate to. It all came very naturally. There were songs like “Your Heart Will Always Be Broken,” Jenny had a lovely verse and bridge for that, and it took me ages to write verse two. I’ve got reams and reams of pages where it’s only like six lines, but I found it hard to say something that would work to respond in a linear way to what Jenny had written in verse one. I’d never done that before. This sort of collaboration, doing a duet’s record, must bring a very fresh, unique perspective as an artist. Bobby: Yeah, because it’s the unknown. That’s why Andrew (Innes) suggested we work with Jehnny because it was the unknown. We don’t want to make another Primal Scream record with just the two of us, you know, making the music and writing the songs; it was the attraction of the unknown, which is always exciting, I think. Any venture in life, you can win, and you can lose. So you’ve got to take a chance. I think collaborations are the way of the future. I mean, rap music, reggae music, hip-hop music, black music, in general, has always thrived in collaboration between artists. Rock guys and girls are always very precious about their work, and these types of collaborations are not many. I can understand why people want to protect their work, but collaboration can be quite exciting and dangerous. You don’t know where it’s going to end up and what’s going to come out of that source. There aren’t any cover songs on this record. Was that a conscious choice to keep it all originals? Bobby: I didn’t feel that we needed to because we had enough material. One other song that was written that we decided not to include because it was more of a goth rock song - gothic folk. Jehnny: I think it felt more like a Primal Scream meets Savages type of song, and we felt like this record was a different kind of record. We veered off in another direction. So, if that song brings us back to that, it shouldn’t be there, you know?

Bobby: But it had something. The original demo of that song definitely had a vibe. We kept going back to it again and again. Jehnny: It was a good song; it just didn’t fit. It was a little too full-on rock ‘n’ roll. Douglas Hart directed the “Remember We Were Lovers” music video. Bobby, that must be nice to keep a consistent creative collaboration with him over the last few decades. Bobby: Yeah, every time we make an album, Douglas makes a video. He did the video for “When The Light Gets In” with Sky Ferreria, he did “It’s Alright, It’s OK” from the More Light record. He’s always made videos for us. He was the best man at my wedding! Jehnny: He’s a lovely man, really kind, a great listener. I was really happy with the video. I heard this record started off sounding a lot more electronic at the beginning. Is that true? Jehnny: Yeah, I think it was because we were working in our studio in Paris. Johnny (Hostile) and I weren’t sure what kind of record we were making. We thought maybe it was a Primal Scream record. I guess those beats were probably created unconsciously. It was very driven, very Suicide-y. It was a starting point, and I think it was nice. It was more like trying to understand how we worked together, and a lot of melodies were kept from those sessions. It was the chords, the nature of the instruments, that changed. Bobby and Andrew wanted to make it more traditional, more like a live band. It was good to have a vision and follow it through. I think we started recording in the Summer of 2018 in London. Do either of you have a particularly fond memory of those recording sessions? Bobby: I have a nice memory. I’ve got a lot of nice memories of recording the record. Those ten days were a complete joy for me. There was one moment where we stood in the control room, and we listened to the playback of the song “Your Heart Will Always Be Broken.” It came to the middle eight section, where Jehnny and I are singing in unison. The players’ vibe, the sensitivity of musicians, and the way Jehnny and I were singing together. I had shivers. It just sounded so honest and heartfelt. >>



Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Dress by The Vampire’s Wife


>> And I just knew I was like, “Man, this is a real record. It’s got real, real soul.” I love the way her voice is, and I love the interplay and the musicians’ sensitivity on the record. The sound bed they created was perfect for Jehnny and me to lay our voices on top of. I think everybody felt they were involved in making a really lovely piece of art. I’ve been in many sessions before, and there have been situations where a session is not going like a dream. That session in 2018 remains a great memory for me; everybody was in such a good mood every day. It was just a joy to hear these songs that had been in my head for so long. It sounds like it was a wonderful experience. Do you think this is a one-off project, or would you do it again? Jehnny: I love when journalists ask that right after you’ve just given a great record [laughs]! Bobby: Whenever anybody asks me a question like that, I think about something that I once did. We played a gig in Melbourne in 1995, I think. And Rowland S. Howard got up and played guitar with us for a few songs. And after the gig, everyone is saying how great the gig is, and we’re all chatting. Well, I had a few drinks, and I said, “So when are you going to make a new album?” And he goes, “Oh! Uh! I just made one!” Ha! Speaking of Rowland, one of the last gigs I went to pre-Covid was the Pop Crimes Rowland S. Howard tribute night in London February 2020. You performed “Some Velvet Morning” with Lydia Lunch. Bobby: Oh yes, I remember that very well. I was focused on what I had to sing. I had to sing three songs, and it was a lot of people coming and going and coming and going; it was a two-hour show. I spent a lot of time in the dressing room with Nick Cave and my friend Sean O’Hagen having quite serious discussions [laughs]. I was like, “Oh God, I have to sing a song in two minutes; I gotta look at the lyrics!” It was a great night. I think Rowland’s brother Harry and Genevieve, his longtime girlfriend, and Mick Harvey were all very pleased with how the night went.

I was curious about where the name Utopian Ashes came from and that painting on the cover. Bobby: It’s a title that I thought of. I just felt that the record would be better serviced if we had a poetic title. At one point, we were toying with naming the album, Remember We Were Lovers. Very much in the style of a country record, a photograph of me and Jehnny on the cover, looking forlorn and sad. Jehnny: That cover still exists in my mind. [laughs] Bobby: Yeah, it’s still there. But I had that title, and it just came to me, and I felt it was a strong title for an album. It isn’t very meaningful, but it can be meaningful simultaneously as a poetic image, I felt. I think it gives the record some mystery. Then I saw the painting; it’s pretty abstract. There’s a fire there. It’s nighttime. When I saw it, I went, “Yeah, that’s the title, and that’s the cover.” Jehnny: It sums up our two styles of writing as well. Like some concrete reality with a poetic, more abstract level, that contradiction there. Ice and fire. Love and hate. Bobby: The record feels like a great piece of art, and I’m very proud of it.


Jehnny wears... Suit by Bella Freud


Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Dress by The Vampire’s Wife



Bobby wears... Velvet double breasted jacket by Gucci Velvet flares by Celine Nude women shirt by Parioca Rio De Janeiro Jehnny wears... Dress by The Vampire’s Wife



WITH THE RELEASE OF THEIR NEWEST RECORD BITTERSWEET DEMONS, THE MURLOCS’ GROWTH IN THE LAST DECADE IS EVIDENT.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY IMOGEN THOMAS WORDS BY DAN PARE




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uch is the double-edged sword of sharing members with international psych-gods King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard; the existence of The Murlocs shall forever be confined within the brief off-season stints existing for the prolific former. To be viewed as merely a side-project, though, would be some Australian heresy of the highest order. With the new album Bittersweet Demons (their fifth LP, marking an entire decade as a band), we as listeners are treated to a departure from the out-and-out garage scuzz that was the hallmark of their previous work instead find the band in more mature, contemplative form. With the record written chiefly on piano, we find on tracks like “Francesca” (an ode to Ambrose’s mother) and the title track “Bittersweet Demons” (concerning the passing of a close friend) a sometimes brutally honest, topically raw body of work - but still laden with enough of that characteristic rollicking energy to be unmistakably them. The album is cathartic yet not self-indulgent, influence-laden yet not derivative, effortlessly catchy yet not cheap. The sound of a band comfortable enough to throw caution to the wind creatively yet grounded enough not to lose what made them so brilliant in the first place. We caught up with Ambrose Kenny-Smith to discuss the perils and rewards of creative, emotional honesty, focusing the songwriting lens on his mother and the longevity of The Murlocs. * * *

The album was mainly written on piano, and I think this comes across particularly in the records’ more tender moments - was that decision a conscious one to change stuff up? Ambrose Kenny-Smith: Yeah, it was - I think after Manic Candid Episode, I wanted to do something heavier, but I changed my mind at the last second and did something a lot more chill, which coincided with me writing a lot more songs on the piano and stuff. Then we just took it down that road, with the heavier songs like “Skyrocket” and “Illuminate The Shade” actually being offcuts from Manic Candid Episode, that I wanted to keep for this conceptualized, heavier record. At the last second, we decided we needed a few more rock-y tracks on the album, so we stuck them on, but I think they fit a lot better in this batch of songs than anywhere else, in hindsight.

“Francesca” is an ode to your mother - what was it like shifting the songwriting gaze towards her? It somehow feels refreshing to hear a focus on a familial figure instead of the traditional female muse. Ambrose: That was another huge thing - since I moved out, as did my sister, I think she felt like a bit of an empty nester, and she’s found love after like 20 years of being separated from my dad. It’s been nice seeing her come into her own and be happy again, being less stressed. It just felt like the right place to go and do it. Still, I was wary of letting the floodgates in. She’s a very vibrant person and has always maintained that I could do or say whatever I wanted creatively, like “don’t worry about talking down on us if that’s what you need to do,” so I think she was really happy with how the song turned out. This is your fifth album - is the band’s longevity something you ever think about? Do you take steps to ensure things don’t get stale? Ambrose: I think we’ve done so many records, and it’s always felt rushed in the sense of always having other things going on in our lives. So I wanted to just put some more time into giving it a narrative and having clarity on things like, “oh, this song’s about growing up in Tallong on the surf coast.” Then there are elements in those songs about people from the country, having moved from the city to the country and then the coast and back to the city, and having a childhood, spending my life traveling and meeting many strange and funny characters. I wanted to capture that next level, making things a bit more conceptual, whereas a lot of the time, previously, we’d have random batches of songs with different meanings, not highlighting what they’re about. It’s still pretty broad, but to me, this one feels a lot more open. I feel Bittersweet Demons is such a great album name and one that captures the two sides to your songwriting on the album. I read that the record is focused on the people in your lives who’ve had a profound impact - is the complexity of humanity, the good and bad tied into one, something that particularly interests you? Ambrose: Yeah, for sure. I think this album is the most personal route I’ve taken...




>> ... so far, listening to a lot of Elton John and the John Lennon/Ono Plastic Band, going back to some more straightforward ways. Some things in my life were changing, with family and friends and stuff - I lost a dear friend of mine, and that spearheaded the direction I wanted to take the album in, with the title track about him. So I just decided to continue that and be way more honest, let my guard down and not be worried about using metaphors or anything, just being a lot more literal and to the point. Was it scary, baring your soul like that? Ambrose: Definitely, but I think that’s one of the challenges to set for yourself, not to be scared to put yourself out there. Once you can break that down, you’re given an open field to do anything without caring what people think. I put some lighter shades into the album at the last minute and changed some lyrics, so it wasn’t too brutal, though. It’s nice to throw it all out there and be honest and open - it feels good. You’re fairly prolific, with this not being your sole focus. How do you know when it’s time to work on The Murlocs? I read in another interview that you feel the band can be neglected if you’re not careful about it. Ambrose: It’s just the nature of it. Being in King Gizzard, things move so quickly, and we’re just constantly going, so it’s hard to time it all properly. I think this time it’s working out alright, though. You’ve always had that slightly lo-fi, skate footage-influenced feel to your music videos. Now that you’re branching out somewhat in the music you’re creating, can we expect a similar shift on the visual side? Ambrose: I’ve grown up skating and making skate videos, so we’ve always been around cameras and stuff, making clips and making a point of that. Often, I work with skaters who do make clips, so we’re all on the same page in terms of influences and stuff.

Ambrose (cont’d): That itself branches you outside the box because you’re not creating visuals that just fit the song’s narrative and have to take it into a different place, rather than what the music may be about. It’s about just making sure ideas are being constantly thrown about; things are always happening. That also allows you a different side of things, to build the ‘world of The Murlocs’ or whatever. Ambrose: Yeah, for sure. We’re our own beast and do things pretty collaboratively. Still, I’m staring this shit in the face, always trying to think of the next thing and plan stuff out because we have such a short window to do something like touring and writing and making videos for the band. Still, it always somehow seems to come down to the last minute. As a band, what is the most important thing for you at the moment? Ambrose: I suppose this album is very important because it’s very close to home for me, so it feels like a bit of a closure album for me as well. I think it’s the best way to almost do some of your own therapy in a way; just put it out there musically as something that makes things feel a bit easier to get over. We’ve had a period of growth and maturation, and have thought a lot about what we wanted, and had to take things a bit more seriously - all my favorite music is the simpler stuff that has its heart and soul in the right place, so we tried to follow that.




AFTER SEVERAL SEEMINGLY UNORTHODOX RELEASES, NIGHT BEATS PUT OUT THEIR SIXTH ALBUM, OUTLAW R&B, AS IF TO SAY, HERE WE ARE, AND HERE WE HAVE BEEN.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY HAMILTON BOYCE WORDS BY NATALIE GOTT



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utlaw R&B is less of a homecoming and more so an entrancing reminder that only the healthiest roots grow and diverge, experimenting with new styles beyond anticipation. We chatted with Danny Lee Blackwell, brainchild of Night Beats, to discuss what the growth behind this completed work felt like. “The old mantra that serves a song is what you have to live by. It doesn’t matter how it gets done, it just needs to happen. But then you have the concept of Dharma, where through your action, your state of being, you’re fulfilling your duty in a way. I think that this series of Outlaw R&B sessions happened as a result of things that have been rattling around in my head for a while. Taking into account things that were happening around me,” says Lee Blackwell.

Outlaw R&B may not be easily compared to the previous album, Who Sold My Generation, a plexus of experimentation in its own right, but it sprouted out of what Lee Blackwell considered his own Dharma surrounding the album; a natural birth of everything t hat had arisen in his life and the world since the last album. Created amid a pandemic and Night Beat’s early days in Los Angeles, this album is a rich experience of the past year. With the opening track, “Stuck in the Morning,” there’s much resemblance to crawling out of this past year into 2021, with unfond memories and the enticing urgency to move forward, dusting away bleakness. “It’s a piece of time. It’s a piece of a moment. Outlaw R&B is different fragments of an experience throughout my life, of my interpretations of the world and where R&B fits in there, and where the journey that you can go on through those things fits in.”

Outlaw R&B is an auditory escapade through the wild, summoning the greater world with riffs so vibracious, you’re not sure where the album will let you off next. Each track opens as powerfully as the last, beckoning the question as to whether this whole album is one singular ride or each song an adventure in its own right. Just as the title implies, it does not abide by any rules. Released for Levitation Sessions, the video behind “New Day” emotes everything you could want from a series of untouchable outlaws, placing them in a great expanse connected with the natural world, coupled with the essence of solitude and confinement. Set in the desert of Antelope Valley before a background clad in Joshua Trees and dust, Night Beats stares into the sun beneath the brim of a hat, electrifying the desert with lyrics and riffs that question sanity. “The natural beauty that is around where we were, the personal connection that I have to that space on Earth, to the infinite, is what I’m trying to establish with the music in a way. Also, the fact that we recorded on a tape machine, it was all a stripped-down avatar of the group. But it’s about the music, it’s about the symbiotic relationship between the natural world and the music that’s created from this band.”

Outlaw R&B was recorded at Valentine Recording Studios in North Hollywood, Calif., appropriately placing an album that fosters touches of r&b, soul, jazz, and western pop into a place that gave life to records for artists such as Bing Crosby, The Beach Boys, and Frank Zappa. Although this was Night Beat’s first album produced in the Los Angeles area, it’s difficult to imagine a better birthplace for such a project.




Reflecting back on the entirety of the work, Lee Blackwell says “Thorns” sticks with him as his most dear piece from the album. He describes it as “a mixture of my past and dream state,” procuring a demonic possession through the act of a thorn prick. “My mother is really into roses. She had a rose shop when she moved to the states from India, so I associate roses and thorns and a lot of those things with her. The coming together of those concepts and this story with the mother ties, then comes the Indian ties and the Bollywood ties... So there are a lot of guitar riffs and really cool beats that came out. The Bollywood aspect was definitely present because they had so many killer lines in those songs, just dramatic and subtle things. So my Texas roots are tied to my Bollywood background. As much as I went to church, I listened to Bollywood stuff too. Both sides of my background were competing for influence.” No matter how ruthlessly some lyrics may strike, this album is colorful and offers a path of light out of the past year. Taking the album art and video for “Stuck in the Morning,” we’re met with arrays of shifting colors and burnt oranges that make up a setting sun or wild desert flowers of the West. The colors are as bright as the melodic intros to nearly every song, creating a fictional experience around lyrics melded with grim truth.

Beginning in October, Night Beats will take this album to the stage and around the world, throughout much of the U.S. and nearly every corner of Europe. After working on this album in complete lockdown, Lee Blackwell is most looking forward to playing “That’s All You Got” for a live audience. The video for this song feels self-exploratory, delivered in a single shot as Night Beats wander beneath Los Angeles’ Chinatown lanterns. So it’s only appropriate that this song would also explore a new age of live music beyond shut-down. “It just sounds freeing. I could just put every being into singing that one. I might hate how it sounds after, but in the moment, I know I’m going to feel it.”



GENESIS OWUSU IS THE NEW BLOOD OF AUSTRALIA’S MUSIC SCENE, EFFORTLESSLY BLENDING ROCK ‘N’ ROLL AND HIP HOP.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY BYRON SPENCER WORDS BY WILLA RUDOLPH




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hanaian and Australian multi-faceted artist Genesis Owusu is releasing a continuation of his latest album, Smiling with No Teeth, released back in March of this year. This new EP, entitled Missing Molars, calls upon Outkast, Kendrick Lamar, Gnarls Barkley, Flatbush Zombies, Parliament-Funkadelic, and Pharrell, but it truly exists in its own world that Owusu has built with his own two hands. Speaking with him, his awareness and intentionality in his art is clear; his vision accomplished precisely.

Where are you from originally? Genesis: I’m originally from Koforidua in Ghana.

Missing Molars is out mid-July and is comprised of the tracks made in the session for Smiling with No Teeth that didn’t make it onto that project. Owusu seamlessly travels between genres, subject, and mood, often straddling unlikely combinations. “I’ve been l iking to play with the contrast between having lyrics that are about dark and weighty shit, but then having the sound completely contradict that,” he told us.

That sounds like a dream. Genesis: Yeah, it was pretty crazy. The album was a concept album, so there were specific narrative points that I wanted to hit, but outside of that, we made a lot of great music that didn’t necessarily fit into that framework. I still loved a lot of the tracks and thought they were unique in their own right. So I wanted to release them anyway, and that’s what this package is comprised of.

The Smiling with No Teeth sessions were tenhour days for six days straight of jamming with an allstar band. So it’s no wonder they made too many scintillating songs to fit onto the album. But the young virtuoso didn’t want to keep such tracks from the world, which is why we are blessed with the five-song EP. The single from Missing Molars, “Same Thing,” is accompanied by a video that represents a kind of paranoia through a chaotic assault of imagery. “Same Thing” can be enjoyed for its upbeat future-funk beat or its contrasting subject matter, which is about the fear of relapsing into a darker mental space. Either way you choose to enjoy the EP, one thing is for sure - it is fun and funky, while it is also deep, vulnerable, and raw. Which is pretty much the vibe Owusu gives off in our conversation. * * *

Hi! How are you today? Genesis Owusu: I’m not too bad, just been doing a bit of work. It’s like 11 pm now, so my day is almost over. But I’m chillin’, how are you? I’m good. I just woke up, so we’re on the opposite ends of the day. Where are you, exactly? Genesis: I’m in Cambra, Australia.

So what can you tell us about these tracks off your new EP, Missing Molars? Genesis: They are tracks from the same sessions as the album that I released back in March. So it’s an extension of that. The album is Smiling with No Teeth. I got together with this group of crazy musicians, and we jammed for, like, six days, ten hours a day. We made 60 hours of music.

Nice! So when you were in the studio making these songs, what was your creative process like? For the ones particularly on this EP. Did you write them before, or were they more spur of the moment? Genesis: Well, it was created in the same sessions, so it was kind of like - we got together in this small room, jamming for ten hours a day, and we were throwing everything we knew at each other. This was also the first time the band and I had met. We’re all from very different musical backgrounds and were getting to know each other through these jams. It was just a myriad of different musical influences. It was formed around my vision of what I wanted for the album. I think just coming in and making that much music; we covered everything that we could. There were funk tracks, hip hop tracks, R&B tracks, folk songs, rock songs, post-punk; we covered every base that we could think of. Naturally, that couldn’t fit into one package, so it needed to be dispersed. I think overall, the process was extremely free-flowing, and organic. It was very spur of the moment and came together with the notion in the back of my mind that this could very easily be a trainwreck or it could be magic. And luckily, in my opinion, it was the latter.




I think that’s a great way to approach making art in general. Just like -- this could be terrible, or amazing, and release trying to control that, and just put all your creativity into it without that fear. Genesis: Yeah, I agree. How would you describe your sound? I feel like there are so many genres being referenced, but your music really can’t be boxed into any one genre. Genesis: Yeah, I mean, that’s the thing. I make it and let everyone else describe it how they want to describe it. Kind of like you were saying about how the optimal way of making art is free and knowing that it’s out of your hands in a sense. With me, I take that notion into other aspects, as well. I don’t try to control my image that much. Or, like, what category I should be placed in. I make the music, and once I make it and put it out, it’s yours to do with it what you want, you know? Who were some of your biggest influences growing up, musically or otherwise? Genesis: Kanye, Pharrell, Andre 3000… Yeah, I wrote down Outkast and Pharrell when I was listening to your music. Genesis: Yeah, they’re huge in my books. Jimi Hendrix and Miles Davis as well. And Erykah Badu. What song would you put on to get you ready to attack the day? Genesis: I’ve been listening to a lot of Southern Trap lately. Like, there’s this artist Duke Deuce, who’s just been makin’ slappers. He’s got this song called “Crunk Ain’t Dead,” and it’s this callback to Lil Jon era, like, just in your face crunk music. It just slaps. On a perfect day, that’s how it starts. I love that, I’m gonna look it up after this. Genesis: You gotta watch the music video as well.

Tell me a bit about your new single, “Same Thing.” How did the video come together? Genesis: “Same Thing” is this track -- a lot of the tracks on the previous album were focused on either depression or racism, but they were shrouded with these funky sounds or these upbeat sonics, stuff like that. This track was kind of in a transition point of those topics, where, it’s about coming out of that, but essentially being afraid of relapsing. Feeling like things might be too good and feeling weary of what might be lurking in the background. I wanted the music video to feel psychedelic and claustrophobic in a sense, like an assault of imagery. Just because that’s kind of how the paranoia can feel sometimes, I feel like that song, and that video were kind of like a pretty good indication of the whole mindset of the project in itself. I think you accomplished that with the video. I got that kind of, like, manic feeling from the imagery. But I wouldn’t say the song necessarily, in itself, made me feel manic. Genesis: Yeah, I like to play with the contrast between having lyrics about dark and weighty shit but then having the sound completely contrast that. You don’t get what I’m talking about until the third or fourth listen. It’s more interesting that way because it’s more ambiguous, and you can take your own meaning from it. If you only want to enjoy it on a surface level, then you can. If you only want to enjoy the funk of the track, you can. If you want to dig deep, though, you can dig deep. What can people look forward to from you over the summer and the next coming months? Genesis: Just more of everything. More of my beautiful face plastered everywhere, making more music, doing more live shows. I’ve been touring around Australia, and we’ve announced a U.S. tour and Primavera Sound next year. Just more of me. More of everything.




COMING OFF OF THEIR THIRD NUMBER ONE RECORD, TYPHOONS, ROYAL BLOOD SHOW NO SIGN OF SLOWING DOWN.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY PHOEBE FOX WORDS BY LOUIS GRIFFIN




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wo years ago, Mike Kerr walked into a bar in Las Vegas and ordered his last ever drink. His day job as half of one of the biggest bands in the world had brought many things into his life: fame, critical , critical acclaim, and sold-out stadiums night after night. But it also brought drugs, booze, and ultimately addiction. So, one day in 2019, he decided to quit for good. It was this that ultimately inspired Royal Blood’s third album, Typhoons – by far their most confessional record, but one which, for them, also breaks new musical ground. Their trademark distillation of rock and roll finds itself sitting alongside elements of dance music, with acts like Justice cited as influences. But Royal Blood find themselves in an unenviable position. Having built their reputation on live shows, they’ve been forced to release their third album without the kind of arena-sized bombast they’re used to. Instead, their album campaign has consisted of Zoom interviews and pre-recorded performances - a far cry from their former existence as one of the hardest-touring bands in the world. When Mike joins our call, he’s holed up in a studio; “what else is there to do?”. Typhoons is a leap forward for a band that found themselves pigeonholed by their stratospheric rise to success. It adds a new dimension to their sound but retains the physicality right at the core of Royal Blood’s music. It’s music for dancing at a time when venues are empty and may well be some of the first to echo across dancefloors when they’re full again. * * *

How was it releasing Typhoons under such odd conditions? Mike Kerr: Yeah, it’s strange; it doesn’t feel like we’ve drawn a line under the record by any means because we haven’t gone out and toured, and that’s the only thing I can associate with the end of a record, I guess. But at the same time, it is the end of that chapter. Without the live thing, we’ve got to do something, and we’ve always been a band that wants to look forwards and see what’s next. It’s a record that we’re incredibly proud of. And the fact that it was received so well – to be honest with you, it kind of surprised us. Because we didn’t make it with an audience in mind, it’s something we just made for ourselves.

Mike (cont’d): Honestly, we felt like it was a much more challenging record than it was perceived to be. But, particularly if you’re a fan of our first two records, we felt like we’d made something that would split people down the middle, so [we were] pleasantly surprised. That’s fantastic. It’s interesting that you mention the live side of things, and that giving a sense of completion to it all because just before this call, I’ve just seen that Truck Festival has been canceled, and obviously, you were going to be headlining that. So I was interested to get your take on how well we’re looking after our music industry? Mike: It’s been completely abandoned. Throughout this entire pandemic, it’s had the life sucked out of it. The industry’s on its knees; we’ve seen venues close down, countless people lost their jobs. It’s just been catastrophic, [the industry] hasn’t been looked after at all; it’s been overlooked. It’s such a shame. I can’t wait for live music to be up and running again, but it’s not like it will go straight back to how it was; it’s got to be rebuilt from the ground up. I don’t want to voice too much of an opinion on whether live shows could have been going already, but it seems to be one rule for one industry, one rule for another, and it doesn’t seem to match up to me – seeing a stadium of people on TV, and yet you can’t have a gig. I’m not a scientist, but to me, something doesn’t seem quite right about that. It must also be strange as a band because that live experience is the best way to gauge people’s reactions to the music, and you haven’t had that for these new songs. How’s that been? Mike: Very, very strange. The record doesn’t feel lived in. It’s like a brand new car that’s been out for one drive, and it’s still in the garage. So, it’s slightly strange, but finishing that record left a very good taste in our mouths, and I think we feel hungry to continue being creative and see what’s around the corner. I think the return shows are going to be so powerful and euphoric, and I think the album that we’ve written accidentally aligns with that mood and that feeling.






Could you take me back to the start of the writing process for this album? What informed the direction that you ended up taking with it? Mike: It’s such a hard question to answer because the beginning of the record was so clunky. We kind of had “Boilermaker,” and then there was probably a year until we began writing the record. So it’s difficult to know where we count it all. I see “Trouble’s Coming” as the beginning of the album. The writing process was about discovery, about working out where to take the band and where we wanted to go that we hadn’t been yet. I think we both shared a hunger for something that felt fresh, something we hadn’t done before, but we didn’t know what that was. It wasn’t until we discovered a playing style that was always under the surface in other songs we’ve done before, this more groovebased danceability brought it right to the surface and explored it further. It still felt like us playing; it’s just more like a mood shift than a sound shift. Once we got to that, the writing process was really kicked off by “Trouble’s Coming.” It was all based around this idea of there being a physicality to the music, where you want to move in that way. There’s always been a physicality to our music, you know, but maybe not in a dance-y way. So it was based around that and chasing that feeling. It was fun to make – once you start making songs with that atmosphere, there’s a real energy to it. How did COVID play into the writing process? Mike: I think the lockdown provided us this extra time making the record where I think we could go further down the rabbit hole. We had an album’s worth of material, but in that time, I kept writing new songs. I think I took a much more daring step forwards into the sound and direction because in the back of my head, I thought, “well, we’ve got an album’s worth of great material, so this is kind of like whatever.” I think the best songs were written in that time. “Typhoons,” “Limbo,” “Oblivion,” and “Mad Visions” were all done in lockdown, and they’re probably my favorite tracks on the whole record. That’s interesting that “Boilermaker” is the oldest material on the album because that’s the track that harks back to the earlier albums the most.

Mike: Yeah, I agree with that; it’s just a song that we love. A few tracks on the record don’t necessarily abide by the blueprint the [other] songs share. I think “All We Have Is Now” is somewhat of an anomaly on the record, “Million & One” as well. I think, ultimately, these are songs we just loved and wanted to be on the album. “Boilermaker” was one of those. We also felt like it did have something danceable about it still, just presented in a way that perhaps we would have done on the last record. But I’m really happy that it’s on there. It’s interesting, the dancier sound, because people might listen to the record and think that you’ve added lots to your sound, but from reading about and listening to the record, it feels like, if anything, fewer things were happening, and that sparseness is what is carrying it forward. Mike: Absolutely. I always take AC/DC as the masters of space, and of less is more. The reason that those riffs sound so badass is all the resting points in them. That’s how dance music works as well; it’s not just a flat note; there are gaps in the rhythms and the riffs. That’s something that we do all over the record, really, at times playing a lot less than we’ve ever played. But there are also moments where we play way beyond our own ability, and I think now, playing it live, we wish we’d never written something so complicated. It’s more that things are highlighted, and things are more extreme when there’s less. It probably seems like there’s a lot going on, but only in the context of our own band. I wanted to dig a little deeper than into the album’s lyrical content because it’s easy to see from the lyric sheets that this is an album about your struggles with addiction. It’s not an easy thing to relive those experiences in interviews like this, promoting the album. Was it daunting, putting your experiences out there in that way? Mike: Yeah, it was a little bit. It’s something I’ve thought about for a long time. In my first year of sobriety, I didn’t tell anyone, I did shows, and I was unsure about whether to share it or not. In the leadup to the album, when songs were beginning to get released, I thought about whether I was even going to say anything about it. But I soon realized that I’d be lying if I avoided talking about it. The record is so clearly about that period of my life, and coming out of it, so I’d have to deny the truth of the record. >>




>> Also, I realized the importance of sharing my story. It’s not a unique one, but I know it relates to a lot of people. I think I found sobriety through hearing other people talk about it, and I didn’t realize it was an option for a while. So, it was a double whammy, really. I thought, “This is what the record’s about,” and I could share it, and it could be significant. The idea of talking about it in every interview wasn’t something I wanted to do. It’s made the experience of speaking to the press and being in every interview a lot different. I’m not talking about this crazy pedal I used in the studio or what it like recording in fucking Belgium. I’m talking about very intimate things. And, to be honest with you, it’s asked in a very crass way a lot of the time journalists digging for war stories or trying to kind of glorify that existence. So yeah, it’s been a lot more taxing, but it’s also been very rewarding. Many people have reached out, and I think it’s ultimately been a healthy thing for me to do. But I can’t say I’ve enjoyed it the whole time. Do you think there’s more that could be done to make the music industry a better place for people who struggle with addiction? Mike: Yeah, I do. I don’t know exactly what that is. But the thing about it is that it’s the untrodden path, and you’re kind of being an outsider by doing it. Not just in the music industry, just socially, it’s the path of most resistance – our entire culture and society, you have to go against the grain. So it’s very difficult, it’s a difficult thing to do. And that’s why it’s so important to be around other addicts and other people that have struggled with drugs, including alcohol. There needs to be a community for people that share the same thing. I don’t really know how to implement it though. Moving back to the live end of things, I wondered how you plan to implement the new album live? Mike: Although the songs are very difficult to play, and it’s taken us a long time to get our head around them, we feel like we’re in a place now where we’re ready to go out and perform in front of people. There’s only so much rehearsing you can do; it’s never quite the same. There’s just a great atmosphere to the songs. There’s a nice contrast between the records now; it feels like a very dynamic setlist.

Mike (cont’d): There’s always that feeling of “How are you gonna blend the old with the new?” We don’t want to blend the old with the new. That’s how you create dynamics; you put something big next to something small. There are so many moods and flavors that we can go and do now. Having been on the road with many bands that have had successful careers and multiple albums out, watching their setlist, and watching how they put on a show, we soon realized you need all those ups and downs to keep someone’s attention for two hours. There’s no way we could have pulled off a show that was interesting the whole way through, playing that same kind of material. We needed those things. I’m intrigued by the closing track on the album, “All We Have Is Now.” It’s a piano ballad, and it stands in really stark contrast to the rest of the record. It’s an interesting way to end quite a maximalist album – how did it end up being the closer? Mike: No one was supposed to hear it; it was something that I had written for myself. Everything I write goes out or gets shared. I’ve got a friend of mine, he’s an amazing artist, and one day he dropped all these paints and canvases off in my house. He said I should start painting – I’m a horrible painter! He said, “I think it’d be really good for you to create stuff that you don’t share.” So I made some awful paintings, which are very funny. I guess there are bits of music that I wanted to have that relationship with, where this is mine, and I don’t want to give it away. “All We Have Is Now” was one of those songs. I played it to Ben in the studio, and he encouraged me to record it. Even once we’d recorded it, we weren’t sure if it would go on the record, particularly with the album that we’d made. Ending the record on “Hold On” would have been a very professional bow on the album. But it’s a song that means a lot, and it was a bit of a “Why not?” I think everything on this album has been for us, whether it fits with how people know us or not. It’s a great feeling when you truly do what you want. There’s nothing more rock ‘n’ roll than that.





NEWCOMERS OPUS KINK ARE THE FEROCIOUS BRIGHTON SIX-PIECE DESCRIBED BY STEVE LAMACQ AS “WHERE PSYCH MEETS SOUL.”

PHOTOGRAPHS BY REUBEN LINDLEY WORDS BY JULIAN DE LA CELLE



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pus Kink are tearing through the UK music scene, baring their teeth and bringing infectious high-energy back into a much-needed industry. We spoke with frontman Angus Rogers about the band’s meeting, working on music with The Charlatans’ Tim Burgess, and why music was the route for them to go down. * * *

First off, how did you all meet one another? Angus Rogers: We met on Brighton beach in 2002. We were all individually walking miniature schnauzers by the shoreline when fate had us convene. I nearly spat out my mocha. That volume of schnauz-walkers outside of an organized meetup is unheard of, and so naturally, we got to talking. When the conversation dried up, we hurriedly formed a musical group, if only to fill the silence. The dogs have long since departed us, but the band lives on. So intercept the balls that life hurls past you. The first song I heard from you guys was “Wild Bill,” and it is one of the best songs I’ve heard in a long time. There are elements to it that remind me of Nick Cave’s Henry’s Dream album; the Wild West attitude, shouting in unison, the weird organ sounds. Angus: Thank you. Come to think of it, we’ve really ripped that album, especially “Papa Won’t Leave You, Henry.” I’d been able to deny it to myself up until now. The bassline came first and was the basis of another song called “Misery” that didn’t cut. So we put it back in the factoring machine then added the guitar riff, a sped-up imitation of desert blues guitar a la Tinariwen, Tamikrest, Songhoy. The rest happened in the netherworld forge of rehearsal-room horse-flogging. I wrote the lyrics with a red biro. What made you want to be in a band? Did any of you grow up in musical households? Angus: The drummer and bassist, who are brothers, grew up in a musical caravanserai of flamenco guitars, honky-tonk piano, and castanets from Christmas stockings, so they were doomed to play from the start. The rest of us didn’t have family bands but didn’t let that stop us. My dad played a lot of jagged British music from the eighties and lots of African stuff. The saxophone player was born to the lilting tones of ‘Baker Street’ sailing through the hospital window from a busker below. He has a complex.

How did the connection to The Charlatans’ Tim Burgess come about, and how has he influenced you musically? Angus: The keyboard player’s old man is a music video director and was involved in one of Tim’s listening parties. He casually brought us up in the name of ‘worth a shot’ Tim liked the demos we eventually sent to him, and wham, before we knew it, we were nepotized right to the top. He influenced us by being physically and spiritually present in the studio, floating between rooms with pearls of wisdom budding in his smile, and being well-versed in the art of attempting to splice guitar music with dance music. Who would you say are your major influences sonically? Who are you listening to a lot of at the moment? Angus: Listen. I’m a hard rocker, but I can’t stop listening to Crash by The Primitives. Doesn’t it just make you want to go and share one of Jimmy’s mum’s JPS Silvers in the churchyard then get licked on gin miniatures underneath the pier? Aside from that, we’re influenced a lot by jazz-and-blues-derived music from all over the shop. Also, traditional European music, pub rock, desert music, 1977-1988, moonlight sonata, the World Service, Fred Wesley playin’ his hawn, fading crooners, chickensh*t honky-tonk, whatever’s going on, to be frank. Does literature influence your writing at all, and if so, what would you recommend our readers pick up and read? Angus: Yes, hugely. As there’s a new single to plug, I’d urge your readers to have a look at the inspiration for it, which was the ending of La Bête Humaine by Émile Zola. But read the whole thing, God damn you, or the last passage won’t smack as hard. Your latest single, “This Train,” has that same jolt of fast-paced energy that “Wild Bill” has; it makes you want to dance or mosh in a venue. Is it important to you for the music you write to have that type of electric energy? Angus: Excellent. That’s the aim. Yeah, our music as it stands is constructed to be played live, so any lures or bait we can use to get people flailing around are key. The downtime is just as much fun if you play your cards right, so slow it up, mate.






ITALIAN FOUR-PIECE NEW CANDYS HAVE JUST RELEASED THEIR NEW RECORD ,VYVYD, WITH A NEW LINE-UP AND A TIGHTER SOUND; AN ATTEMPT TO STEP AWAY FROM BEING LABELED AS SOLELY A PART OF THE “PYSCH SCENE.”

PHOTOGRAPHS BY MILA F. WORDS BY JULIAN DE LA CELLE




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or this record, the band decided to shift gears and experiment with new sounds. When asked if they’d been listening to more contemporary music, the band’s frontman Fernando Nuti replies, “I’m not a big listener. The best albums of 2019 and 2020 for me have been The Downward Spiral and With Teeth by Nine Inch Nails; I was just late to the party.” We spoke with Fernando about the band’s longevity, a unique change to the album’s title, and breaking away from any given genre. * * *

This is the first record you’ve put out since 2017’s Bleeding Magenta; why the gap between that record and Vyvyd, and how do you feel now that it’s out in the world? Fernando Nuti: After Bleeding Magenta came out, we started to tour a lot like never before, with opportunities to tour Australia and North America, so we took them. In that same period, the line-up changed, and Alessandro joined in June 2018; that’s when we started to work on the album as a band. We had to record different sessions for this reason. When Covid happened, we pushed the release further out since playing live was not possible… that’s why in the end, the gap was longer than we expected. Now that it is out the main feeling is relief and completeness. We featured you guys back in 2015 in our very first print issue. Since then, the line-up has changed, and I feel your sound has evolved quite a bit. What do you feel are the most significant changes sonically since our last chat six years ago? Fernando: Back in 2015, we felt like we were part of the so-called “psych scene,” like we belonged more to some kind of genre. We think differently now. We’re not paying attention to a specific scene, and our tastes have changed and evolved. We like to experiment as much as possible inside the “pop” structure without going too avant-garde. We love that balance between noise and melody. What were your major influences on this record? Did you have specific bands/songs you were listening to a lot?

Fernando: The first half of the record sounds newer, while the second half could be more connected to our previous releases. I wouldn’t say there were significant influences, but we took inspiration from bands that tend to have very different kinds of songs in the same record, like Primal Scream or The Dandy Warhols. We were listening to NIN and Deerhunter too; those bands have been important to this record. Why is the album title typed Vyvyd? Fernando: Vivid was the original title for the album, and the artwork already had a black face with white eyes, like a goddess warrior/ mysterious figure. I wasn’t sure about the title because there were other albums with the same name, and I wanted something more unique. Laura Gamba, who was helping me with the artwork, pointed out to me that one of the two sons of Oscar Wilde was named Vyvyan. I instantly loved that typing and the fact that the name Vyvyan/Vivian is for both males and females, which made me like it even more, so naming the album Vyvyd was like connecting it to an androgynous entity. When did you start recording the album, and did the pandemic have any effect on the process? Fernando: The first recording session happened in December 2018, and we finished recording the album right before the pandemic hit, then we took our time to work on the mixes. You guys are a band that plays a lot of live shows. This must have been such a strange, stagnant year for you. You must be very excited to get back on the road, any tours coming soon? Fernando: Yes, we have some shows coming up in the next few months before the first EU/UK tour in December. From late January until late February, we’ll tour different countries in Europe, and there’s also big news coming soon related to that tour. Then, in March 2022, we’ll tour the States; we can’t wait to be back on the road.





STARCRAWLER ARE KEEPING OLD SCHOOL ROCK ‘N’ ROLL ALIVE, DANGEROUS AND LOOKING DAMN GOOD.

PHOTOGRAPHS BY GILBERT TREJO WORDS BY JULIAN DE LA CELLE FASHION BY NICKY PANICCI @THEGREATESTROCKNROLLCOLLECTION






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aving met each other in high school six years ago, frontwoman Arrow de Wilde and guitarist Henri Cash decided to start a band. Cash wanted an escape from having to finish schooling, and de Wilde felt she was ready to front her own group, echoing the sounds of The Runways and Ozzy Osbourne. Flash forward six years later, and the band have two studio albums behind them; their debut Starcrawler in 2018, produced by Ryan Adams, and Devour You in 2019, produced by Nick Launay (Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, Yeah Yeah Yeahs). They’ve toured the US and Europe extensively, with many stops in Australia and Japan, recorded at Jack White’s Third Man Records in Nashville, Tennesse, and have shared the stage with Beck, Billy Idol, The Foo Fighters, and Wayne Kramer of the MC5. Currently, the band is working on a third record, and have just released a new single, “Goodtime Girl,” part of the new DC Comics: Death Metal Soundtrack, and recorded a live cover of “I Need To Know” with Mike Campbell for what would have been Tom Petty’s 70th birthday bash. We spoke with de Wilde and Cash about their start as a band, being raised in musical households, and growing up together making music. * * *

Let’s start things off with how you and Henri met and the inception of what was to be the band. Arrow de Wilde: Henry and I met in high school. I wanted to start a band, like really badly. So I was just trying to find the right people to do it. I had been in another band before, and so finding the right people, even if that took fucking years or something, was i mportant to me. I was determined to make sure that it was perfect, I guess. Once Henry was on board, shit just started moving, and we wrote our first songs and started playing shows. Had you played in anything before then, Henri? Henri Cash: Yeah, I played in a couple of things, but nothing as serious. We were determined because the goal was to be able to drop out of school. So early on, I was like, “We gotta rehearse every day so that I can drop out of school!”

Arrow: I really didn’t want to go to college. Both of my parents didn’t go to college; no one in my family, actually. They wanted me to be the first person to go, and I was like, “Fuck that shit.” This helped me to have a real reason not to go and be in debt for years over nothing. Henri: I think it’s good for people who don’t know what they want to do yet, but, if you already know, you should just do that. That’s how I felt. So then, six years later, you guys have literally grown up together playing music. Do you feel like there’s a bond between you that’s different than other friendships in your life? Henri: It’s a very sibling relationship, especially being in a van in such close quarters for so long. I would assume that you guys are the primary songwriters for most of your songs? Arrow: Yeah, for a while, but actually, this upcoming album was kind of different. Tim wrote a lot more parts. Henri: Yeah, the first two albums were just Arrow and me. And then this album, Tim stepped out. He’d been writing stuff for years that he’d been kind of hiding. So we finally got to use some of that stuff, which is cool. I’m excited. You just put out a new single called “Goodtime Girl” for the new DC Comics: Death Metal soundtrack. How did you get approached for this, and had you written the song beforehand, or was it written specifically for the soundtrack? Arrow: We had started writing it beforehand, but we put it on the back burner. We were kind of stumped on it. We hadn’t fully started writing the melody yet. And then we were like, “No, we don’t like this.” Then when we got approached for this, we felt like this might be the perfect vibe for the soundtrack. So we worked on it more, and we met with the producer, Tyler Bates. At first, it was kind of just this random DC thing that we got to do, and then once we heard the recording, we were just like, “Whoa, it sounds so massive.” We had never heard our songs sound that big and with that quality of production before. We really liked working with him.




You guys did a cover of “I Need To Know” with Mike Campbell for the Tom Petty 70th Birthday Bash; it sounded incredible! How did you get involved with that? Arrow: I’ve been family friends with Tom’s daughter. She used to babysit me when I was little. Her and her sister run the estate and come up with creative ideas and stuff. So they had their people reach out to us and ask if we wanted to be a part of it. I don’t remember this, but I guess when I was a baby, she was babysitting me, and she left me at his her dad’s house. And her dad watched me all day. We hung out, I guess. Henri: We did it because Tom Petty babysat Arrow, in a nutshell [laughs]. Arrow, I feel like you and I had a similar upbringing in the sense that we grew up around a lot of musicians and artists. Do you feel like that influenced getting you into music yourself? Arrow: When I was little, I didn’t have any interest in being a musician. I was a little turned off by it, only because I grew up around it so much. I watched some of my parent’s friends have their moment and fizzle out. Then later in high school, you know, everyone kind of started starting bands. I thought that sounded really fun. And then I realized that I didn’t want just to do it for fun; I wanted to do it, do it. Growing up and watching what certain people did wrong helped me figure out how to do it right. I had the experience that not many people get to have, and many people have given me advice along the way. They still do. And what about you, Henri? I don’t know as much about your upbringing. Did you grow up in a musical household as well? Henri: Yeah, pretty much my whole family plays music. My dad’s a guitar player. I had a bunch of uncles that played. They were, like, side guys. My uncle played with Keith Urban growing up. So I remember seeing them and like, not really being in the music, but being on a stage was always appealing, you know. When I was little, I did the power stance and wanted to be Johnny Ramone. So I kept going with that, and I’m pretty much the same. All I talk about is music. When I’m in a situation with people that don’t talk about music, I lose my footing and feel weird. Like, I can’t keep the conversation.

Arrow: Henry either talks music or talks shit. [laughs] No, I’m kidding. Henri: You can say that it’s true. [laughs] How important is fashion to you guys? You both have great style, and I think it’s even gotten better the last couple of years. Arrow: I think it’s very important. It’s cooler to say it’s not and pretend it just comes naturally, but it’s like the music, and the visuals are -Henri: People hear what they see. Arrow: Exactly. That’s what I was trying to say. I do think it’s really important. It shows that you care about your art, and you think about it. I think fans like that too. They can tell that the band’s style is personal to us or our own unique thing. It doesn’t feel like some weird corporate plan. I feel like you can tell when it’s genuine and when it’s some weird business model or something. What would you say are your biggest takeaways from the past six years as a band? Henri: I feel like a lot of people don’t start because they just don’t think that they can. Like they’ll say, “Oh no, I won’t be able to get shows, so I’m not gonna rehearse.” Just go out and do it, or like how Arrow didn’t know anybody who played music but was like, I’m going to start a band. She didn’t know me when she met me. She just walked up to me because I wore cool t-shirts with bands on them. So I feel like if you really want to be in a band or be a musician, just seek it out. Arrow: Manifest that shit. You also have to be a little cocky, at least at first, in a way, because you have to believe it’s going to happen. I do think it’s all about manifesting and just fucking doing it and not taking no for an answer. Henri: Also, you can’t be in it for the money. You gotta be in it because you want to do it. Be yourself. Play the music that you want to play. If you think you’re a bad songwriter, keep writing songs. Arrow: Fake it ’til you make it.








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