In Depth - June'23

IN DEPTH

BIG MOMENTS OF THE MONTH

Festival season is underway

the lads are Fighting again...

Festival season has begun with Download, Live At Leeds, Parklife, Slamdunk and more already being ticked off, bringing high vibes and some apocalyptic weather. Next stop? Glasto!

Matty Healy and Noel Gallagher are fighting again - someone grab the popcorn. Calling Matty a “slack-jawed fuckwit”, Noel definitely wasn’t mincing his words. Clapping back to say that Noel “does an album to promote a series of interviews”. The claws are out.

One of the things we’ve been looking forward to all year is the comeback of Britpops finest. With both Pulp and Blur back on stage, both bands are proving they’re still at their very best. And with both having a glasto shaped hole in their live calendar, we’re keeping a close ear to the ground for some possible secret sets…

With the help of AI, Paul McCartney has been working on a final Beatles track to be released this year! Fulfilling a long running desire to finish off ‘Now and Then’, a demo track found on a cassette marked ‘For Paul’ which was found after John Lennon’s death, AI has been used to finally polish it up. Maybe the machines are taking over, but we’re not mad about this one.

Britpop is Back

ai delivers a Final Beatles trac

KEATON HENSON DOESN'T OWE YOU SADNESS

WORDS: LUCY HARBRON / PHOTOS: ELE MARCHANT

I thought I might have a second to myself after getting off the train Pulling up somewhere in Sussex, I won’t act like I wasn’t nervous. I seemed to sleepwalk myself there, almost laughing to myself at the ridiculousness of it all as me, and the 13-year-old version still inside me, set off to go meet Keaton Henson. It seemed silly – no one gets to meet Keaton, he’s a recluse, he’s a mystery, he lives in some castle on some hill in the middle of nowhere and does nothing but write songs and cry I worried he’d say little to nothing, terrified my few questions would be beneath him or I’d upset him or some other disaster They say don’t meet your heroes and when I think about the framed print of his poem, Grow Up With Me, sat on my childhood room wall; I thought I might have a second to prepare myself for the death of the figure I admired, before I met the real person.

Gaining notoriety as the poet laureate of the dark, angsty side of 2010s Tumblr –Keaton Henson was basically crowned king of the sad boys With the release of Dear and the start of a career dogged with anxiety, meaning he rarely played live or did interviews - he was the poster boy for the tortured artist. Leaving the station to glorious sunshine, finding Keaton leaning against a wall, in a graphic t-shirt and sunglasses, smiling at me; he was better than I expected.

“You can’t live your life as that twodimensional projection, because then that three-dimensional you underneath just withers away” he says with the same articulation you find in his lyrics. Sat by the fire after a day of draping pink tinsel in every corner of his house and joking about just how regularly he seems to find himself having to not flinch while someone fire a party popper at him – I meet Keaton Henson the person, and he’s as wise as you might expect and funnier than you probably imagine “I’ve met fans where I can see it in their eyes that they’re disappointed if I’m making jokes or I’m in a good place To see that disappointment always makes me feel guilty, as though I’ve lied to somebody – I haven’t, there’s just different parts of me.”

“When I was young and got started in the music industry, a friend could see that I was panicking And she said, ‘ you need to create an icon and a shield’. And it stuck with me. Never lie to people and create a fictional person, but like find the part of yourself that you ' re willing to expand to be. And so for me, I think that was like, I have an excess of sadness so here, have that But there are other parts of my personality I just keep for myself.” When it comes to House Party, his 6th studio album, he describes the switch plainly; “There's already a two-dimensional version of me. So why don't I just like, try a different one?”

From start to finish, it’s this thought that House Party is interested in. Considering the trappings of success, and the tough price to pay when that success is achieved through emotional vulnerability; House Party delves deep into the tortured artist trope.

“YOU CAN’T LIVE YOUR LIFE AS THAT TWO-DIMENSIONAL PROJECTION, BECAUSE THEN THAT THREE-DIMENSIONAL YOU UNDERNEATH JUST WITHERS AWAY”

"HE'S MADE ME REALISE HOW OKAY I AM"

if Keaton is willing to bleed himself emotionally dry for fans, contemplates how dark that could have gotten and culminates in ‘The Mine’, as the voice of the album rocks back and forth crying “they love me”. And while Keaton has previously handed his sadness over to fans willingly, House Party wonders if he can afford that anymore, singing “I hold myself to ransom / And can’t afford the fee”.

But while the considerations here are different and wrapped up in a bright, colourful cover that stands out from anything that came before, there’s something almost eerily familiar. Reminiscent of 2013’s birthdays, when i point out the similarities between aesthetic, Keaton nods That’s the moment these two figures splinter; Keaton himself, and the voice of House Party

“I moved to LA for a while to make Birthdays and then I ran away. I think he ran to it and changed to be more like it I think that’s where the pink suit comes in, it feels very 70s LA, like he’s wearing what he thinks someone in LA should wear, he’s dressing like an extrovert ” The ‘He’ in question is the narrator of House Party, a somewhat alter-ego of Keaton’s that continued down a timeline he fled.

“Around Birthdays is when I suppose I started to feel the pressure to be more radio friendly, but I did the opposite and hid and made a classical record and went on to make a lot of long, weird albums. I think he tried to do everything he could to be that person, you know, making everything shorter, playing drums ” It's this ‘he’ you heard in the instrumental of album opener ‘I’m Not There’, a song that could be plunked straight from the soundtrack of some 90s indie flick, with catchy hooks and a sound

we ' ve never heard from Keaton before –one that could make you dance. “There are all these points in my career where I backed away, so I imagined a version of myself that walked toward it all.”

And while you could dumb this figure down to a fame-hungry, hollow nemesis; the bad to Keaton’s good, it isn’t that simple. In a subtle contrast to Keaton’s outright sad image of earlier albums, in conversation about this new figure he references Marcel The Mime’s Mask Maker routine, trying on different faces for the crowd. “He puts one on and it's like this huge smile and then the rest of the performance is him trying to take it off and he can’t So for like seven minutes, he doesn't stop smiling but you can see the panic from his body language ” It’s this panic you hear on tracks, hidden under the fun instrumental, in the signature poetic lyricism that made Keaton a cult star and the sadness that people have come to expect of him. Writing about the trappings of the tortured artist and the stunting nature of success, he puts it plainly: "Don't envy what you wouldn't wanna be each day."

Referencing Bob Seger’s ‘Night Moves’ as another initial inspiration, discussing his obsession with a subtle lyrical change from “workin’ on our night moves” to a more sombre “ain’t it funny how the night moves?”, these moments of duality proved empowering – pop music can still be poetic. Recently doing a series of covers from Taylor Swift to Backstreet Boys, the decision took some fans by surprise, but this is Keaton’s taste shining through as the 3D multi-faceted person he is; “the music I make isn’t really the music I listen to. I love pop music, especially when people sneak something existential and deep into it”.

“I think I’ve genuinely squashed so many pop songs in my life. I realised that I wanted to free myself to make that more radio-friendly and poppier sound I ran from and free myself to not be afraid of doing that. But I felt like I needed an excuse and I thought the best excuse would be to do my own mime routine, use the sound of that American bravado music representing like the mask or the persona that this person is projected, where under it all they're actually really unhappy ”

But as we sit and chat, it’s hard to accept

his figure as a wholly tragic one Doing his first interviews in years and preparing for his first live dates in even longer, Keaton seems renewed with a new confidence or at least a fresh burst of bravery. “He’s like a shield. I feel like I can hide behind him slightly, and I also think he’s made me realise how okay I am. ”

Thinking back to his previous point about creating an icon of yourself, and the Keaton I thought I might step off the train to find; I’m thankful to have found something different In the glorious

sunshine of an unseasonably hot May, Keaton Henson doesn’t look strange in summer He moves through his new garden with ease, crouched in the long grass with our photographer Ele as she points out where it looks like he has wild garlic growing and he talks sweetly about his wife’s love of gardening. My heart sinks when I think about him feeling guilty in the face of his own happiness, that at one point his art became a kind of cage where certain fans stand guard demanding misery, forbidding recovery. As poster boy of the trope back in 2010, upon another listen, House Party feels like an album about the trappings of the tortured artist and how success won by vulnerability and brutal honesty can be stunting when you feel better. In the same way that fans seemed outraged that Lorde wasn’t still 17 and angsty on her latest album Solar Power, demanding depression from your favourite artist is so cruel to the person under it all And as Keaton laughs about it in the garden, pointing out how weird it would be to meet a 30-something year old man that still behaves like a teenager and hides away in his house staying up smoking and writing all night – I’m so relieved I didn’t have to try and interview that man.

Instead, Keaton Henson is a man that picks a Twix out of a box of celebrations. In his new home, one day after getting the keys, he’s already hung a skull and a Victorian photo In his car, his CD collection is a mix of 2010s indie and Mitski, in the boot there’s an old easel and an axe. In a secluded home about 20 minute drive from anything, he wears a pink suit as we joke about how he’ll fit in with the new farming community he’s landed in and how he’ll turn the basement dungeon into a studio (it has no windows, no light, he jokes he’ll make his best work here)

I have the nicest day, immediately at ease and struck that Keaton Henson is maybe the kindest and friendliest musician I’ve ever met. When we sit down for our chat and he admits to those feelings of guilt that he can’t live up to his sadness around fans, I tell him that I’m so glad he can’t. He smiles and invites us back.

WORDS: JAMES KILKENNY

PHOTOS: JOEL JOHNSTON

green gardens

Though hailing from different regions of the country, Green Gardens forged Leeds as their adopted hometown; the city is the core of the four musicians, inside and outside the band, whether playing in other Leeds bands or working at the Brudenell Social Club. Their sound fuses folky, Bert Jansch guitar dynamism, shapeshifting art-rock, and “feudalist indie”; fondness for the past mixed with a forward-facing outlook.

In a not-so-green (beer) garden and Leeds pub, I chatted to Jacob Cracknell (vocals, bass), Chris Aitchison (vocals, guitar), Jacob Beaman (guitar), and Bob Henderson (drums) about the band’s origins and their new music – including their recently announced debut album.

What was the last great album you heard?

GG: Our album! Green Gardens!

Bob: The new Billy Woods album. There’s some really creative beats and wordplay on there.

GG: We went to see Cloud Nothings, so I’ve been listening to a lot of them.

Can you elaborate on the self-described ‘feudal’ aspect of your style?

Chris: We just don’t like writing about cars, phones, the internet; we like it to not be tethered to any one part of history. It’s a bit more escapist – we like it if something could either be from the 1300s or from yesterday.

Jacob C: We all love Richard Dawson; his new album, that’s very feudal.

You met whilst studying music at Leeds Conservatoire: what were your initial impressions of each other?

Jacob C: It’s hard because we all met studying music but I don’t think the music has been influenced by that. It was more of a meeting place.

Chris: We were all on different pathways as well: I remember first meeting Bob and he was studying jazz and we were studying classical, and me and Jacob Cracknell were on the same course. It was a really exciting mix of different influences.

Jacob B: You guys definitely expanded my palette: what I listen to, what I think about; Jacob made an unending Spotify playlist of all the Trojan Records.

Bob: Some would say it was love at first sight. How ingrained in the Leeds music scene, and beyond, are you?

Jacob B: We’ve been playing with Carpet recently.

Chris: Me and Jacob play in Far Caspian, and I play in Sunflower Thieves.

Jacob C: I play with Nile Summerton and Honeyguide too.

How did ‘Things I Didn’t Do’ come about?

Chris: It reflects grieving, from personal experience. It’s very busy lyrically; an expression of panic, fear; immediately after you’ve lost someone; also tying in those feudal influences.

Jacob C: With the saxophone, from Tomn Kettleton, we wanted something reedy and to really hear someone’s lungs.

Chris: It feeds into the strain, and enters this other realm, away from a heavy guitar track. The lyrics reflect guilt: you’ve lost someone, feel bad about the things you should have done that you didn’t do when they were around, and now you’re never gonna get the chance to do it again. Then it’s resolved elsewhere in the album, and that’s just a very normal way to feel. You should focus on the things that you did do; experiences you had with that person.

Green Gardens release their debut album, This Is Not Your Fault, on August 18th.

WORDS: BETH MOUNTFORD

PHOTOS: HANNAH DRISCOLL

SPONGE

volume 3 - the close encounter cluB @ BriXton house

Brixton was alive, and also maybe half-dead, when I stepped out of its tube station for the first time in seven years. The resident station steeldrummer, whom I had been so looking forward to hearing, was evidently no more. But incense still burned and leather bags still piled up along the Electric Avenue market. Incredible hoards of people still queued for buses along the high street.

A swift pint on an empty stomach at the Trinity Arms put me right on course for the night ahead - a space-themed, three banded bonanza, hosted by The Close Encounter Club at Brixton House. Cowboyy, Balancing Act and Japanese Television were on the line up.

Brixton House is huge. You really can’t miss it. It is finding the gig WITHIN the venue where one may run into some issues. We found it with practical-joke-level difficulty. The security guard on the door told us there was no guest list. The guy selling merchandise for the very gig we were trying to find was baffled when we asked him for directions. “To where?” He said, with genuine inquisition.

After passing the final test of the intense security check (respect), we burst excitedly into the gig room, which was empty, and had the air of a posh school gymnasium, dressed up for prom. With padded floors that made me want to cartwheel, it even had that new venue smell, extremely rare in London.

Back out at the bar I spoke to a guy who had written a concept album about the end of the world, which he hadn’t been able to write the ending of. We sipped signature pink gin and rum cocktails until the first band were due to play.

“You been searched already?” We nodded earnestly. “Alright get in there.”

The stage design was very polished. Clearly a lot of effort had gone into the placement of the plants, the backdrop of fairy lights and neon signs. Otherworldly green and purple smoke hissed from the corners and formed in plumes above our heads. It felt like the stage in a celebrity guest talk show.

Cowboyy were incredible, and absolutely my new favourite band. This guitarist was working so hard it seemed like it was barely holding together. Somebody described them as “mathy”

but it didn’t feel mathy because it didn’t feel calculated. It felt like a cartoon character swinging precariously but effortlessly along some monkey bars.

Their drummer persistently kicked 32kg of stage weights off the little platform on which the kit was poised. The weights were patiently pushed back by the organisers in the interludes between songs, which added to the TV performance feel of the room.

The crowd were giving a polar opposite energy. When the songs stopped it went awkwardly quiet, like junior high school prom, nobody knew what to say to each other, everybody too selfconscious to dance. At this point it felt like WE were the aliens, and that we’d captured a human band to perform for us, but it was so different from our usual forms of entertainment that we didn’t know how to act.

Their set concluded as close to the end of the fretboard your fingers can get without your hands touching, and I honestly could not wipe the grin off my face.

Balancing Act provided a very different, indie, verging on classic rock vibe for their self-proclaimed first gig south of the river. There were a lot of tender moments in this set, the kind that make you go “awwh”. Kai whistled his way through The Saddest Song I Ever Did Write amongst the crowd and when he took to the stage again you could hear the smile in his voice.

Throughout the set I didn’t focus on any one band member more than the others. They were amalgamated. It all just worked as a coagulated and familiar sound.

Suddenly we were two bands down, most of the way through the gig. With the next round of space juice I added a bag of crisps to the order. Shared with Sam of course, who had purchased the

round, the energy of seven crisps was enough to send us flying, back into the extraterrestrial reality TV, high school prom, retro comic-book convention gig room for Japanese Television.

In terms of an eclectic line-up these guys had it all; a sea shanty guitarist, a bassist who innovatively had her entry wristband on her ankle, nerdyass-lookin keyboardist and the classic drummer, who looks like he’s smiling at you but he’s actually just wincing. No vocalist.

Their kinda surfy, kinda Doorsy and very heavy sound was immersive. This band made me put on my sunglasses. Conversely to Balancing Act, I couldn’t decide where to focus my attention at all during this set, and honed in on each member in turn, getting a different experience with each change of gaze. Not that it was in any way a competition, but I did leave the gig resonating on a bass player’s unique ability to drive people into a frenzyround and round and round - louder and louder - circular riffs.

With a 9am start in the office looming uncomfortably close I bounced from Brixton with a relief to be returning north of the river, but a resolve to venture down more frequently, particularly on the promise of another epic Close Encounter Club line up.

THE FESTIVAL DIVERSITY GUIDE

WHITE: AN ACT THAT CONSISTS 100% OF BRITISH/AMERICAN WHITE MEMBERS AS LISTED IN A CURSORY GOOGLE SEARCH, AS (GENEROUSLY) THIS IS HOW BOOKERS ARE LIKELY TO APPROACH THIS.

(EG. YOUNG FATHERS COUNTS AS “NON-WHITE” DUE TO CONTAINING AT LEAST 1 “NON-WHITE” MEMBER)

MALE: AN ACT THAT CONSISTS 100% OF MALE MEMBERS.

(EG. PARAMORE COUNTS AS “NON-MALE” DUE TO 1 MEMBER CLAIMING “NON-MALE” STATUS)

LEGACY ACT: AN ARTIST IN THE TOP PORTION OF THE LINEUP THAT HASN’T HAD A TOP 50 SINGLE IN THE PAST DECADE BUT DID HAVE AT LEAST ONE TOP 50 SINGLE PRIOR.

FROM LEAST TO MOST DIVERSE, HERE IS WHAT THE 2023 FESTIVAL SEASON HAS TO OFFER.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS AN UNCOMFORTABLE EXERCISE AS THE NECESSITATION OF STATISTICS IS AKIN TO THE SAME VIOLENCE DONE AGAINST ARTISTS BY FESTIVAL BOOKERS. THERE IS NO WAY TO CATEGORISE DIVERSITY WITHOUT ALIENATING THE PEOPLE YOU ARE MEASURING- THE POINT IS TO HIGHLIGHT THAT PRIVILEGE IS REAL AND EXTREMELY PERVASIVE. THIS ARTICLE’S FOCUS IGNORES A WEALTH OF OTHER REASONS FOR DISCRIMINATION, AND IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO DECIDE EXACTLY WHAT PRIVILEGE SOMEONE EXPERIENCES, SO PLEASE TAKE THESE STATISTICS WITH A FISTFUL OF SALT.

The festival stage is one of the most important platforms a musician will ever have, potentially introducing their music to thousands of new fans. In 2019 5.2 million people attended a British music festival- that is not an insignificant number, it can change an artist’s career trajectory.

However, this opportunity is not presented equally to all musicians. There has historically been a heavy bias towards platforming white male musicians above others, affecting everyone- from the biggest artists in the world, to the acts playing their first festivals.

The discussion of lineup diversity has been prevalent over the past 5 years, forcing festivals to release diversity statements and, supposedly, increase the diversity of their lineups.

But what does festival diversity look like? In 2023 are lineups actually diverse?

Let's take a closer look at 5 massive British festivals: Reading and Leeds, Glastonbury, Y Not?, Download, and Green Man.

WORDS + GRAPHICS: CHLO SPINKS

5TH PLACE - THE LEAST DIVERSE

4TH PLACE

3RD PLACE

RUNNER UP

THE MOST DIVERSE

Festival diversity isn’t about policing the perfect split of all possible demographicsit's about having a variety of cultures, scenes, and perspectives at festivals. It's about celebrating different streams of creativity, inspiration, and community, creating a healthy music ecosystem where everybody knows their contribution is valued.

Who knows? Maybe your new favourite artist is just further down the lineup.