songwriter

Interview: Daveit Ferris

Deadheading was thrilled to catch up with the creative powerhouse that is Daveit Ferris to talk about his latest (and naturally, colossal) project, 365 Sparks, in which he will release an original song for every day of 2015.

DH: What appealed most to you about the idea of 365 Sparks?

DF: The grandiosity and sheer scale, knowing it’s a unique project, the
challenge itself and knowing I’d better myself in a lot of different music related
facets. To be honest, absolutely everything was appealing about it
and I was as excited as a little kid at Christmas whilst assembling all the
ideas for it in the early planning stages circa November 2013. I’ve always
written an absolute tonne of songs but I’ve never been as prolific as I’d
like to be on the recording side. I’ve lost hundreds of songs simply by
never recording or writing them down, and eventually I wound up
forgetting they ever existed. It simply was time for me to live up to my
potential and do something really BIG.

DH: What made you decide to make it a reality?

DF: Coming close to dying in October 2013 with something called Supraglottitis
completely changed my outlook on life. I know that sounds as cliched as a
Nicholas Sparks movie, but it’s the first time I’ve ever truly been close to not
existing. Prior to this happening, I’d almost convinced myself that I had all
the time in the world to finish my collection of projects and as a result, I have
hoarded hundreds of half-written scripts, almost-completed novels, poetry
books, websites, graphic books, etc… that are soundly asleep on various hard
drives. This incident made me realise that my life is totally finite and I need
to be completing these projects and not half-doing 50 at one time. I decided
that my next project would be my sole focus and I’d complete it before giving
my full attention to the next thing.

DH: Do you like the independence that comes with releasing and distributing
these songs by yourself?

DF: I decided from the planning stage that I wanted this project to be completely
DIY. There was no bravado or arrogance involved in this decision, just a
realisation that I could and therefore I should. Also, due to the time sensitive
nature of the project, I didn’t want to be involving other folks just in case of
cancellations and postponements. I’ve always been happiest when in full
control of my creative output, so meandering down that independence line is
very comfortable at this stage. I’m obviously biased, but I’d question
musicians who are happy to relinquish control of any side of their output
without being involved in some capacity – from the songs and mixing, to the
artwork and website design- all those things are extremely important to at
least be a small bit involved in.

DH: All of the songs contain autobiographical elements, but to varying degrees: do you find it difficult to determine what you are comfortable sharing with
the public? Is it hard to draw a line?

DF: When I look back at my lyrics in all my previous bands, it’s abundantly clear
that I was not comfortable singing about myself at all. Almost all my
previous lyrics were peppered with artistic jargon that just served to mask
that they were all about me in some shape or form. ‘Write REAL lyrics’ was
actually one of the lines that I scribbled on my whiteboard before I started
the project, so it was a conscious decision to not conceal my true feelings,
ideas and stories under a smorgasbord of clever words and witty phrases- I
really wanted to be open about everything. I touch on depression, cancer,
rejection, family matters, anger- there’s no way I could have done that
before this turning point in my life- 365 Sparks could have only happened in
2014/2015 because until then, I simply wasn’t ready to be honest, lyrically.

There were lines that I did eventually redact, but literally the only time this
happened was when I felt that the person I was writing about might take
offence and be hurt by my words or memory- there’s always other options in
songwriting and sometime the punk-rock thing to do is not be a dick for the
sake of being a dick.

DH: When you could have focused on any number of creative ventures (for
instance, your poetry) why did you decide to prioritise 365 Sparks?

DF: Poetry poses absolutely no challenge to me at this point and I’m sure there’s
good folks reading this that will feel the same way. Don’t get me wrong, I
love writing poetry and still do very frequently, but it doesn’t enthrall me the
way songwriting and recording do. Before settling on 365 Sparks, I was
planning on making an indie film. I know that sounds as pretentious as hell,
mainly because I don’t know the first thing about how to do this- but that’s
what I’m all about. I wanted to go out and learn a completely different set of
skills and exist in a completely separate universe than the musical one I’ve
always known. I haven’t given up this idea though and was pleasantly happy
with the material I developed during those few months… Never say never!
I’m just one of those guys who wants to be on his deathbed knowing he’s
created music, poetry, books, films, websites etc etc- as opposed to just lots
of music- you know?

DH: Do you actively seek inspiration for your songs, or are you more spontaneous in your approach to writing?

DF: Honestly, I don’t really make concrete plans to sit down and write all that
much. I know that’s laughable coming from me of all people, but generally
my only struggle is choosing what I’ll write about as I usually either want to
write about butterflies fighting volcanoes or clocks pretending they can
speak Latin. I don’t recall ever trying to specifically coax inspiration from
the world to inspire a song, but I have paused movies hundreds of times in
my life in order to write a song about a new feeling that came from that
moment. I’m inspired by absolutely everything about our world. I find that
when I feel like writing that I have ample topics to spin words around. I’m
just always receptive to being creative and that keeps me away from the
dark gloom of writer’s block- besides, I’m one of the few that believes you
should write your way out of writers block – as confusing as that may seem!

DH: Is it difficult for you to write about personal matters?

DF: It used to be impossible. I think when we’re younger, we’re all trying to
cover the flaws and pretend we’re basically perfect- and whilst that facade
can work for a short time, it’s a tough world to live in and stay connected
with. My remedy for this in the past was basically to sing about other people
as opposed to, ‘Here are my feelings about ..’- I just didn’t want to be
perceived as weak for doing so. That’s early 20’s, now in my very late 20’s
it’s a completely different story. I actually enjoy the songs in which I’m
talking about really personal stuff, and those will likely be the songs I carry
forward from this project and play in a live setting because I can feel a small
electric buzz on my bones each time I sing them. I wish I could have gotten to
the honesty stage in my music a long time ago, but it just took me longer than
most to destroy that wall and expose my flaws for all to see.

DH: What comes first: the lyrics, or the music?

DF: It changes so frequently that it’s impossible to answer. At this point in my
creative life, I’ve written a song pretty much every single way one could’ve
been written. Both have pros and cons. I love writing lyrics first because I
usually end up with alternating melodies due to the uneven syllable count on
the lines, this means that each line usually has something the previous
didn’t, and that can keep the listener’s attention a lot more vs a completely
symmetrical set of melodies perpetually grinding away. Writing music first
can be fantastic too though, because on something like ‘Animal
Liberation’ [which is rock-metal riffs galore], I just decided to riff it up from
the start and not even stop to consider the vocals. When it came time to lay
down some vocals, I had no choice but to find something that fit because the
music was already complete, this alone threw me in a new direction.

DH: Has your song writing process changed much since this project?

DF: My songwriting process, editing, arranging, mixing, mastering [and 1,000
other relevant things]… have all improved 100x within this single project.
Those all are positive outcomes I was hoping to get from doing this so
intensely for two years, so it’s worked out nicely. In terms of writing, I’ve
pushed myself down roads I’d never have gone down before simply because I
didn’t want to write 365 rock songs. It was not only fun, but very
interesting to see a whole different side to music. I’m way more interested in
electronic music than I was when I started because I listened to a lot for
sonic inspiration during 2014.

DH: Have you ever written anything and felt that you couldn’t release it?

DF: Within this project? Sure. In letting my lyrical guard down for these 365
songs, there were definitely moments when the guard completely fell and
exposed things a little too much. I became too open in songs and as a result I
did scrap a lot of lyrics and start new ideas where their ghosts were. As
someone who has always added a protective atmosphere above their lyrical
intention, this was brand new ground and I needed to dig into that soil and
truly find the depths before I could settle on a comfortable place that slept in between honesty and personal comfortability.

DH: You previously enjoyed success with bands such as The Mascara Story and
Telephone Bruises. Do you miss being part of a band? Is it something that
you would ever consider doing again?

DF: A band in it’s organic state is not something I’d be interested in doing at this
point. I don’t really feel designed to be an equal music shareholder in a
collective creative endeavour. I’m so intense about music that it has made
former members uncomfortable. As i alluded to earlier, I like to have my
hands in all facets of what a band is, from the writing, to production, to the
graphics and website- I don’t really leave much room for other opinions
because of that. I don’t apologise for being this way and I couldn’t change my
behaviours even if I wanted to – but I definitely can appreciate that this setup
wouldn’t be ideal for other musicians. I mean, I am the guy that left an
early band simply because the band already had it’s main songwriter and I
wanted to have my songs heard- so i can hardly speak negatively about this.

There’s nothing I love more than seeing bands that are all great friends and
truly sharing something special together – in fact, I envy that a lot – but it’s
just not how it’ll work with me and history shows that, many times over. To
be completely frank, i have outworked and out-passioned every musician
I’ve ever worked with and most of them have told me as much, so I don’t feel
bad repeating this to you. This isn’t to say I’m even in the top 5 ‘most
talented’ of those aforementioned, but my intensity has been there from the
very first day. I mention this because I’m resigned to the fact that I’m not
going to find another ‘me’ with that matching intensity, and more to the
point, it’s not fair on me to judge others based upon my intensity- it just
can’t work that way anymore. When I do eventually get a new band together,
it will be musicians hired to help me bring my music live. Think of the way
Dashboard Confessional, The Rocket Summer and even John Mayer work-
it’s just one person with a changing sideshow of wonderful musicians
helping to bring their sound to the stage. I have huge respect for
collaborating bands- I don’t want to be seen as bagging them all just because
it doesn’t work for me- it’s just not the right fit for me and that’s why I’m
exploring a different avenue this time around.

DH: Was it always important to you that you released your music under your real name?

DF: Not at all. In fact, it was totally accidental. My idea was always to use my
name as my central hub of creativity and rebrand all my creative
departments as something different. The moment it changed was in
mid-2007 when I was trying to make a band called ‘Telephone Bruises’ work
out. It simply wasn’t working despite a lot of effort. So instead of moping
around, I wrote 10 songs, booked a studio in Lisburn and moved down there
for a week to record a new album. The only instrument I didn’t play was the
drums, I hired a session drummer for that. I showed the ‘Telephone Bruises’
members my finished album and it got approval from them all. I decided to
brand the release as Telephone Bruises even though no member other than
myself had any involvement. I saw it as a kickstarter to help the band find
their buzz and to have something to build upon; but it didn’t really change
anything internally. Ultimately i wound up rebranding it under my own
name as initially intended and that kickstarted the ‘solo’ era for me. The
next year, I released five solo albums and my first poetry book; so you could
say it felt really great to be working at the creative level I wanted to for such
a long time.

DH: Are you planning on recreating any of the songs from 365 Sparks live?

DF: Absolutely. My plan is to hire a live band to help me bring the best of the
music live. I’m going to call it 365-alive – did you see what I did there? The
great thing about having done so much music is that there’s not a looming
deadline for playing live, you know? When bands release a 4-track EP in
January, they kind-of have to be out playing in January- I don’t feel that
pressure due to the sheer amount I’ve released, and that’s cool. I have missed
playing live a lot over this last year – and that’s really been some of the first
times I’ve yearned to be back on stage since the Mascara Story days. It’s a
new feeling. I think it stems from confidence in my new work and new found
confidence in myself as a person, not a musician, but as a person. I love that I
have enough songs from this project to do a rock set or an acoustic set of
completely different material- that’s exciting for me. But how in the world
am I going to choose that first setlist? Paper in a top hat?

DH: How important is creative control to you?

DF: It’s critically important. I want my work to represent me fully. I’ve talked
about it before in interviews, but it’s so vital. There almost seems to be a
stigma around folks like myself who want to have a hand in every single
aspect of their output- that we’re arrogant, egotistical and narcissistic- I see
it very differently and think we’re just hard workers. Just to be clear, I’m
not saying that if you literally have never used Photoshop before, that you
should make your album cover in Microsoft Paint and release it to the world- being DIY extends to being the one delegating other creative and talented
people in various roles, and you’re still involved in the process. There’s a
hundred things I’d hire someone to do before doing it myself. I think too
many musicians give themselves a get-out-of-jail-free card and then go and
spend the rest of the week with their x-box. I’m not preaching from my
soapbox here, but I’ve seen this happen and heard it happen a lot.

DH: Did you feel a significant amount of pressure (due to the scale of 365 Sparks) whilst writing, or was it an enjoyable experience?

DF: Songwriting is my passion, so I’m always happy when I’m working on
creating something new in that realm. I’ve written thousands of pieces over
the years so I knew I’d not falter in regards to the writing component of the
project. The recording side was where my self-doubt lay as although I’ve
recorded myself before, I’ve never really brought it to this level before.
There was a lot to learn and I’m still learning all the time, but there’s enough
there that I’m constantly interesting in learning. The writing was a really
enjoyable experience, except for the days when the sun was melting the
streets and i was stuck in my studio couch trying to come up with something
new whilst having heat stroke. Fun!

DH: What was the most difficult aspect of this project (either personally, or as an artist) for you?

DF: It was incredibly, incredibly stressful. It’s impossible to feel progress is
being made when the goal is so huge. I remember finishing my 10th song and
thinking, ‘Wow! that’s an album already’… then I panicked when I realised
there was 355 songs to go- it just seemed like a huge mountain to climb.
There were times it seemed insurmountable and a few times I felt like
throwing in the towel and just admitting defeat, but they were few and far
between and all i needed was to escape the studio for a few hours to reset my
focus and recharge my batteries. The only other thing I’d mention is that it
got very lonely after a while. As much as it was my design for this to be a DIY
project, it just became emotionally lonely to see no other humans for most of
the day, every day, all year. That was tough after a few months and never got
any easier.

DH: At what point in your life did you begin to take song writing seriously?

DF: There’s a story behind this and I touched upon it a little earlier with you. My
first real proper band was called ‘FutureReal’. I was singing for a school
band for fun when the guys from FutureReal heard me singing at an end-of-year
concert for the entire school. They were planning on replacing their
singer as it turned out and so, I got the job. I was super buzzed at this
opportunity and intent on making the most of it. I was around 15 at the time
and solely just the singer of the band. We’d rehearse often and play live
shows often and I was obsessed with the mechanics of the band. I got bought
an electric guitar for my birthday and was instantly obsessed with it. I took
a different route to other guitarists I knew, in that I taught myself from day
one [pre-having internet at home/YouTube] and that I only ever worked on
my own songs rather than learn the usual classics.

After a year+ of writing these songs, I felt confident enough to take some ideas to the band in the
hopes that we could integrate some of my songs into the set. I felt that a lot of
them had potential. However, I was told on multiple occasions that the band
had a primary songwriter and that was that. This really gave me no other
option but to leave the band because my writing was improving week by
week and i knew it was only a matter of time before I was writing brilliant
songs as opposed to good songs. I’ve been obsessed with the art ever since.

DH: Will music always be your primary focus?

DF: Possibly. Probably not in terms of the ‘artist’ angle, but more likely as a
writer or producer or something of that nature. The problem with the artist
angle is that it’s so damn unsustainable as a ‘career’ that it’s not clever to
put all your eggs in that basket anymore. It’s becoming harder and harder to
monetise music and the marketplace is becoming saturated with so much
noise that although the digital opportunities are 1000x better than they
were ten years ago … there’s also 1000x the amount of bands vying for those
spots and that attention. It’s really cut-throat. To be absolutely honest, the
other angles I mentioned are very exciting to me. I really want to push to get
into that writing circle of names that decorate the back of album booklets
and have already made some solid connections in that field. Likewise, I’ve
totally fallen head over heels with audio production and I’d love to start
producing albums by other bands once I get myself a larger studio space. I’m
confident I’ll forever exist doing something related to music – it’s where my
heart sleeps.

DH: Was a career in music always your end goal?

DF: Oh, for sure. When I was a kid I had a lot of fleeting passions; wrestling,
football, snooker… but once I really got into music I was obsessed every day.
I remember being introduced to so many great rock records by my sister’s
boyfriend, Kevin. I’d often go down to their house and just sink into their
sofa whilst playing records all day long- there was no distractions other
than the lyric booklet in my paw- it was all about the music. I knew then
that whatever i did in life would have some connection to music.

DH: Overall, how did you find this project? Was it cathartic, frustrating, etc.?

DF: It was a little of everything. I had moments of euphoria listening back to
certain songs after struggling so hard to get them written and recorded. I
had moments where I thought this entire thing was too grandiose and I was
stupid to even try. I pretty much experienced the full range of emotional
colours throughout the year- I was expecting that though, obviously. I’ve
cried in certain moments, laughed hard in certain moments and I’ve thrown
things across the room in certain moments.

DH: Do you think that it has been a valuable process? Has it been as rewarding as you had anticipated/ what aspect of 365 Sparks have you found most
rewarding?

DF: It’s the best thing I have ever done as a human, period. If I died tomorrow,
I’ll be remembered for this project amongst those that knew me. I share
Ricky Gervais’ philosophy about work in that the work itself is the reward.
I’ve known what these songs have sounded like by December 31st 2014 and
that’s when the project was an absolute success to me – the completion.
Everything after that has been a bonus. I have a very small audience of folks
who’ve been listening away daily and I’ve gained hundreds of brand new
faces that’ve supported the project – it’s been amazing. I can only see it as
having been absolutely valuable to me and my creative life – it gives me great
sense of pride to think about it now.

DH: What was the first song that you wrote for 365 Sparks?

DF: I’m sure ‘Even Butterflies Lose’ was the very first song i wrote and recorded
for the project. This song was the inspiration for me to try so much harder. I
remember listening back and thinking ‘Okay, well, it’s not bad, but i need to
do so so much better than this’. I remember trying so hard to get everything
right on day #1 and in the end .. i got everything absolutely wrong and i was
thrown into severe dizziness. I used this first song as a template for weeks. I
spent every night for weeks messing around with compressors, eq’s, panning
etc just trying to teach myself how this song could have been better on a
sonic level – this helped me paint over the rookie mistakes. I’m happy my
first recording wasn’t anything special because it gave me a platform to
better myself from.

DH: How did you find disciplining yourself to write a song every day? Do you
think that it inhibited you in any way, or did the time constraints serve as a
creative catalyst of sorts?

DF: The acknowledgement of limited time is the single best motivator I’ve ever
found in my life – and I’m not just talking about music. The writing itself
wasn’t really a huge ask because i tend to write something every day
anyways, but having to write parts for drums, bass, multiple guitars, pianos
etc… really forced me to up my game. It was no longer a daily exercise of
getting an idea down on one acoustic guitar – it was about composing a fully fleshed
out song. I think the pressure helped me rather than hinder me for
95% of the time. The other 5% were days when I had appointments or had to
be somewhere else and was left with literally a few hours to write and record
something brand new- those times were stressful but in that kind of good
way.

DH: Do you find that there is a difference between what you initially intended to write and what you actually produce? If so, do you find that discouraging or liberating?

DF: Very often I’d assume what I was writing was a simple acoustic song only to
wind up with a full-blown rock track by the end of the day. The simplest
little things can derail that initial idea. Something like ‘Let this Love
Blackout’ was originally pretty fully-fleshed out as a song with lots of sound
layers, that was until I was listening to the vocals and acoustic in isolation to
ensure all the melodies were spot on- I just really dug what I heard and the
final version is devoid of everything except an acoustic and a voice.
Likewise, a song like ‘Now You’re Gone’ was intended to be a simple
acoustic/vocal song but completely grew into a full band song with drums,
bass, piano etc. In both cases, it was all justified around trying to do the best
by the song itself. I’m 50/50 between executing a clear vision and letting the
song tell me where it wants to go.

DH: Is there anything that you wish you had done differently (within 365
Sparks)?

DF: Lots of things. I wish I’d pushed more to make a documentary around the
process. I had actually put in a lot of ground work to make it happen and
even gone so far as to do screen tests, but it came down to two issues; time
and narrative. I was cognisant that watching just me in the same small
studio day-in-day-out mightn’t have been appeasing to an audience, but I
wish I’d recorded daily videos every single day simply for my own archives.
I just didn’t have any time spare to even think about it in the end and so i
can’t mourn it too much- it was a ‘nice to have’, not a ‘need to have’. In terms
of process, I wish I’d had a few more months to plan the entire thing, simply
because there were a few other song experiences I was planning in throwing
in but ultimately had to cut due to a lack of planning.

DH: Are you self-taught?

DF: Yes. My mother offered to pay for guitar lessons for me when she witnessed
me stick to the guitar for months and months but even as a 15 year old kid, i
chose not to go down that route. I decided early on that i wanted to be me –
even if that meant that I wasn’t as technically proficient as other guitarists i
knew at the time. Developing my own sound and style was pivotal to me
even when I was a kid and I’m so thankful to the 15 year old me for choosing
this route. I reveled in the challenge of not knowing too much because those
little serendipitous moments were special at the beginning. I didn’t see the
fun in learning theory when i just wanted to annoy the neighbours with buzz
saw riffs late into the night!

DH: What was the first song that you ever learned to play?

DF: Nothing sticks out simply because from the moment I had a guitar at my
disposal, I was writing my own little riffs and songs – even if they were god
awful. My friends at the time used to come over to my house and ask to hear
what I’d written that week in my little [school-stolen] orange workbook
because it was so commonplace for me to have written 5 or more songs
during the week even though I barely knew my instrument. So I guess to
answer, the first song I learned to play would have been one of my own, but I
couldn’t be more specific than that.

DH: At what point did you discover that you could sing (or did you always
know)?

DF: I never ever planned to be a ‘singer’ and I still don’t! There’s a funny story
about how I even got into my first school band. I’ll try and keep it as short as
possible. When I was around 15 or so, all my class minus me were being
briefed by our teacher about the school trip they were about to embark on
that day. I was left at school because i was ‘bad’ that week. Whatever. I was
at the back of the class listening to Bon Jovi on my Walkman and apparently
I started to sing along with one of the songs without realising it. Sean Keddy
[whom I’d later form Mascara Story with] heard me sing and then had it in
his head to have me sing for his school band at the time. I agreed when they
eventually asked me and that was that. I was now in a band and ready to
take over the … school! Singing was never a plan of mine and trust me, if you
heard my voice when my started out vs. my semi-good voice now… you’d
assume a miracle had taken place. I initially sounded like a cross between a
siren, Mariah Carey and a washing machine.

DH: How did you get into producing music?

DF: In technical terms, I’ve been producing music since I was probably 15.
Although back then it was direct-to-cassette [remember those?]. When I
started to get into music at school, we had little four-track recorders in our
class that fascinated me. I recorded on those a lot [my school still has those
tapes somewhere I’m sure… Eeek]. Me and Sean both bought cassette
recorders when we were about 16 so we could record musical ideas. I pretty
much wore mine out. I’d get home from school and record from 5-10pm
almost every night. I’m not going to state ANY of it was even good.. but I was
constantly working on my writing and recording every single moment. To
better answer your question though; the start of my ‘producing career’ was
in 2008 when I decided to do the solo thing and wound up releasing five
albums in the first year. I had literally a USB microphone, awful computer,
borrowed keyboard and an acoustic guitar – I made five records solely with
this gear.

It mightn’t sound sonically beautiful or professional, but those
albums contained songs that got airtime on a tonne of different radio
stations and as products they actually sold quite well. The reason why it took
me until 2014 to really start producing full-blown songs is because I was
using the time to build up my own studio and to actually learn about audio.
In 2013 i really felt like i could now produce songs at a sufficient quality to
release to the general public. I recorded a lot of songs in 2013 and they
sounded better every single time as I’d correct a rookie mistake from the
previous effort. I’d state 2014 as the year I really started getting into
producing. Oh sorry, I went off on a tangent there, to answer your question…
I got into producing for two reasons; 1) I genuinely wanted to learn that side
of the game because it fascinated me so much. 2) I simply couldn’t afford to
pay a studio every time I wanted to make recordings. It’s coming back to
that DIY/not waiting around attitude that I’ve tended to have forever.

DH: Your influences are very diverse. Were there any artists in particular that you found yourself listening to more whilst writing for this project?

DF: None that I overly magnetised to, but I made it a ‘thing’ to listen to a new
album every day I was recording and I still try to keep that up these days. I
was hoping that listening to symphonic music or reggae music would bring
out a whole new side of me… but I realised that my music is always going to
have some core component be strongly me. I’m fine with that though. I can
put my hand on my heart and say I’ve tried more new things in 2014
musically than i have in the preceding decade- that alone is a victory march
for me in terms of growth.

DH: What was the first album that you fell in love with?

DF: Silverchair- Neon Ballroom. That album literally defined the trajectory of
my life. I’d always adored music before hearing this record in 2000 or so, but
something about this album completely drew me in and filled me full of
wonder. It’s the album that changed me from a young singer in an upcoming
local band to a songwriter. This is the reason I have a portion of the album
cover tattooed on my body – it means that much. To be specific, ‘Ana’s Song’
from the aforementioned record hit me in a way no other song had ever been
able to. I was floored. I couldn’t believe music could give me shivers,
goosebumps and make me cry my eyes out at the same time. In reading into
the song in question, it only accentuated the tears because of how personal it
was. That album is the reason I am a songwriter. I owe it absolutely
everything. I’m still head over heels with it to this day and have yet to hear
an album i connect more with. It’s just perfect.

DH: Outside of music, what do you draw influence from (films, literature, art, etc.)?

DF: A few years ago I would have answered with films, but I’ve only watched a
handful of films from start to finish in the last few years. I much prefer
documentaries, especially those of the biographical kind because I find I can
use that information to better myself and there is real-world information to
be taken. I just realised how snotty that sounded, but it’s true. I still prefer
to read in the normal paperback way and [would you believe] I read pretty
much nothing but biographies. I really liked Steven Tyler’s book and Butch
Walker’s book, both of which I read again recently. Art [as in painting]
doesn’t really get me and never really has. I appreciate it for what it is, but
I’m not one of those that can go to an art gallery and feel floored – trust me,
I’ve tried on many occasions but always left a little wine-heavy but
inspiration-light. People are my biggest inspiration. I love just walking
around and people watching. We’re all just little ants meandering around
with our little different lives. People endlessly fascinate me.

DH: It is fair to say that 365 Sparks is a project of epic proportions. Do you think that you will ever undertake a project of a similar scale/nature again?

DF: I’m torn on this one. On the one hand, I do have grand visions for a future
project that would be on this level and that I think would be very unique and
interesting and on the other hand, I’m wary of a nervous breakdown and
losing even more hair! I don’t think I’d commit to releasing something-a-day-for-
a-year ever again because life is so unpredictable, as I’m finding out in the
latter half of this year. Problems come up, situations arise and people who
are expecting a song-a-day are left wondering, ‘Where’s the song?’. I can see
the finish line though and i haven’t messed up too badly yet…

DH: Do you have any plans (musical or otherwise) upon finishing 365 Sparks?

DF: Heartfuse is going to be my next large focus. It’s a company I’ve been toying
with for a long, long time. I’ve wanted to start a company since I was quite
young. Not a company only by name, but a fully-fledged operating and hiring
company for creatives to work within. It’s taken a long time for me to figure
out what I’d like to do and how I can make this possible but those ideas are
nearly at the fruition stage now and I couldn’t be any more excited and
scared at the same time. Hopefully it won’t be too long into 2016 before it’s
all up and running. Obviously I also intend on getting my 365 music out
there onto stages and that’s incredibly exciting. Other things I’m hoping to
accomplish: my first novel finally being released, perhaps another poetry
book and maybe even a short film.

DH: Have you found social media to be a useful platform, or more of a hindrance than a help?

DF: I have a love/hate relationship with social media and always have had. If
used by a musician/band as a measure of quality… then it’s going to be a
nightmare. It can be difficult to post a song you feel so proud of on social
media and see it inspire no interaction, and then post a funny meme and see
50 of your fans enjoying it and sharing it- you know? I never use it as a
measure of quality because it would kill me, and I’m sensitive enough as it
is! It’s great on the level that I can tweet a link to my music to the owner of a
major label and there’s a small chance he might click it and respond. So my
feet are firmly in the 50/50 column.

DH: What are you currently listening to?

DF: A lot of the Beach Boys / Daniel Johns / Green Day / Ryan Adams / My
Vitriol / Weezer and Fall Out Boy. I’ve been on such a nostalgia buzz these
last few weeks [I have one more month left before I hit 30 years old] that I’m
stuck on what I used to listen to over a decade ago. I’m looking forward to
getting 365 Sparks completed so I can start to treasure hunt for absolutely
brand new musicians and bands- it’s been a while since I’ve blindly done
that.

DH: If you could transcend space and time, what artist would you see live?

DF: Silverchair- especially now that they’ve effectively gone into a permanent
state of hibernation. Their performances around 1999/2000 on the Neon
Ballroom tour are still some of the best I’ve ever seen [on video]. Although
the subsequent tour for ‘Diorama’ was absolutely amazing too. I watch those
videos on YouTube all the time, so to have been present for one would have
been unbelievable. Honourable mentions would go to Nirvana on the
Nevermind junket, Green Day on the Dookie Junket and Bon Jovi on the
These Days Junket.

DH: Is there anything that you wish I’d asked?

DF: ‘How has the Nervous Breakdown been?’

You can stream and buy all of the songs from 365 Sparks at http://365sparks.com/ and you can check out more of Daveit’s music at http://daveitferris.com/music/

Interview: Rainy Boy Sleep

Deadheading had the pleasure of picking Stevie Martin’s brain about his current project, “Rainy Boy Sleep” (amongst other matters, such as Dostoevsky, why Marilyn Manson might be the last rock star, and his debut album with Universal, of course).

DH: Why did you pick “Manchester Post” as a single?
SM: I think it connects immediately, it’s pretty hard-hitting, and it’s the most ferocious one. In terms of pace, we did Ambulance first, and it’s almost like a curveball, as it’s so different in direction to Ambulance. So there’s a lot of bases to cover with the whole album, you know, you need to make a big impact early on as well, so to get that out there is good. It’s great live as well, so if people know it, it’s going to be even greater when they turn up to see the show.

DH: Was the censoring your idea?
SM: No, definitely not. It’s just (uncensored), it’s definitely not going to get played on the radio, but that’s cool, it works. Everybody knows what’s going on there, you know, before the blank.

DH: When are you planning to release Waiting Games?
SM: I think it’s around May, it might be coming out. We have been, kind of, in discussion about that whole thing, but hopefully it should be May. There’ s a bit of a concept to the album, so I’m looking forward to getting it out and have people listen the whole way through, and kind of getting to go through the whole story of it.

DH: Will there be any other singles in the meantime?
SM: I just have to wait and see, really; what with marketing strategies and all this crazy business, I’m just playing it by ear.

DH: You picked “Rainy Boy Sleep” in order to maintain a distance between your writing and your personal life. Is it difficult to maintain that distance?
SM: I wouldn’t really say it’s a pseudonym; it’s more like a project name. It’s like, if you’re playing like a huge tour where you’re out there constantly, it’s easier to get into character, so with the shows being kind of intermittent, it’s a bit more difficult to get back into that character, that groove. But yeah, I like the fact that the whole project name, and (because) it’s not going under my name, there’s more room for just having a bit of fun really. I know some of the songs are really, really personal, but there’s a bit of ambiguity with the whole project.

DH: That kind of leads into my next question: do you ever feel like you’re playing up to a construct, or a character? Like there are two separate entities: Stevie and Rainy Boy?
SM: I try to be me, you know, when I’m onstage, but at the same time, like a cooler version of me. Yeah, so I try to be me, but the whole thing is, I just don’t want to go out and depress people for whole evenings. I’m generally a bit eccentric; I don’t want to water that down too much by putting on too much of a character. I mean being onstage; you’re not always going to be a hundred percent you. Like Morrissey says he does, but something changes, you know, it has to.

DH: Do you try to strike a balance between personal experience and fictitious accounts, for the sake of lyricism?
SM: I think a song is always going to be based on some element of personal experience, but the ambiguity, you know setting up a block. It’s like another barrier, kind of. Like I remember the first song I ever wrote, it was the most personal song that I’ve ever wrote, and it was just like, saying all this stuff, and I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. It was called “Never Think Again”, but it was just crazy personal, and you know, you need some form of protection.

DH: Have you ever actively offended anyone (with your lyrics)?
SM: I don’t think so? No, um, maybe people could be touchy about if they’ve ever been in an ambulance or something.

DH: It would seem like you’re prone to spontaneity in terms of writing, for instance, you wrote the song “Your Face” in something like ten minutes at Glastonbury festival one year. Do you actively decide to hone in on something, or is subject matter something that is decided relatively naturally?
SM: As you say, it’s kind of spontaneous; you have to take it as it comes. There are times the spark comes immediately, and you just have to sit down and get it done. A couple of weeks ago, this idea, just, out it came, but then again, a song like “Bottom of the Sea” that’s going to be on the album, it kind of, it was there for a couple of years. I remember the first time I thought of it, I was driving down to a gig in Dublin, just a nice, sunny day and all the rest, but the concept kind of came then, but it was two years until the thing was done. Just have to kind of, go with the flow really, and if the opportunity presents itself, get it done straight away.

DH: Is there ever a disparity between what you intend to write and what you actually come up with?
SM: The whole process is, it would start off, and normally what I start off with isn’t what I end up with. One line would set off another thing, and then singing melody, trying to get melodies and that, you do a lot of scat, so I would record just scatting on my phone and that. The scat is good, because when you listen back you can hear phrasing and it sounds like, “Oh wow, that’s a good word there!”, or you hear what fits in. It’s usually the case that it ends up being something different from what I started with.

DH: Do you ever find the difference between what you’ve envisaged and what you end up with frustrating?
SM: That’s usually the case, but I’m getting better at writing songs, so it’s easier to command directions through the song now. Like I was saying, the song I wrote two weeks ago, I knew exactly what that would be used for: it’s not a song for me, but it’s just going to be kind of published out, so I knew exactly what that song had to be. I guess that’s the whole getting better thing, being able to command it a lot better, whereas I feel looking back, like I know the songs are good, but I realise how I could have went about them differently; I’m a bit pedantic.

DH: You have a fairly distinctive voice: at what point did you discover that you could sing, or was it always something that you knew you could do?
SM: I’ve always been singing- in the shower. Yeah, just from mucking about in school, and getting a band going- “Aw, I wonder who can sing?”, “I’ll give it a go.”- so yeah, I think alright, if you want to go for a certain style like, aye, get trained and all the rest, but for my style it (training) would completely take away from that.

DH: Did it take a while to achieve that style of singing?
SM: I’m pretty sure I’ve got it now. I remember listening to earlier demos and, like, using an American accent where I should’ve been using my own. I think (Americana) sounds a bit false, especially with the stuff I’m doing. Hearing “Frightened Rabbit” sing their whole album through in a Scottish accent, it’s just like, that comes from the heart; if they’d sung that album in an American accent, it would have been crap, like. So I’d be selective, but there are times when a chorus needs a more general accent, but the verse, I mean, I sing the verses of Ambulance in my own accent, but then I adopt a more general accent in the chorus, make it a bit more universal.

DH: At what point did you seriously begin to consider a career in music, or was that always the end goal?
SM:I never even really thought about it, I just knew that going out and playing gigs was the only thing that really made me happy, so I never really thought about it, career-wise. I always dreamed about being able to do it and that, but I just took it as it came really.

DH: Are you self-taught?
I got about two months’ help, this guy Alan Wilders from Strabane, so the first song I learnt was Avril Lavigne, “Complicated”- it’s not too complicated though! So a couple of months, and I was just off to learn on my own, like Josh Ritter covers and Glen Hansard and all them ones.

DH: How old were you when you started playing music?
SM: I got a bass for Christmas when I was sixteen, and I dabbled in that. It wasn’t until I was like seventeen, which is pretty late like, that I got stuck into it.

DH: What made you progress onto (and stick with) guitar?
SM: It was just a technical thing. I’m more like a songwriter, I guess, so that kind of isn’t the most important thing for me to focus on, I need to be able to mix the melody with the rhythm more, so it’s just that the guitar fitted a lot better.

DH: You play a bit of everything. How much, if any, involvement did you have with recording the instruments of the album?
SM: I worked with Niall Dalton, so me and him are of the old guard. He was like the engineer on the album, so we were trying to get that round the campfire vibe; we’re both of the opinion that it’s essential to get the sound (right) before pre-production, and get the most natural sound, and he’s so good at doing that. The recording process was very experimental, in terms of microphone placement and all the rest, trying to get the most natural sound, so we spent a good bit of time at it, but we did work hard on that. For one of the tracks, I plugged the microphone into a guitar amp, put it through weird effects and that, it kind of created this big soundscape-y thing.

DH: How did the collaboration between you and Reuben come about?
SM: Initially, we met like three years before we started working together on the album, so it was a case of I was off on the tour with James Morrison, and was starting work on the album, and I was looking for all these crazy producers- I’ll not name names or anything- but I was going to the ends of the earth, basically, to find a producer for the album, and it’s so weird that, you know, Reuben was the one, and he was there all along, right on my doorstep. So yeah, it was one day, somebody said something, and it just dawned on me, like “Oh my God, Reuben Keeney!”, so that’s pretty cool.

DH: I’ve always maintained that your voice would work perfectly on an electronic track (as is supported by the recent slew of remixes of your songs). Would a standalone electronic/dance track ever be anything you’d consider?
SM: I would love to do something like that. I kind of have a vision, well, I know what the second album’s going to sound like, so it’s kind of time to think about the third. I know what direction it’s going to be, although I’ve only got bits and pieces of songs and that, but I can envisage that it’s going to be a bit different alright. Maybe SOHN-y, Crystal Castles-y direction-y, so yeah.

DH: Reuben has joined you onstage more often than not in the past few months: will he continue to be a part of the live set up?
SM: I’m continually striving to get to a full band set up on stage. I love the dynamic of what we’re doing right now, but I think definitely, that’s what I mean, for us to get three four musicians on stage at once. It’s very, very handy to have a laptop, because I am still poor, but for the gigs that we’re playing right now, it’s very handy. Like being a support act, that’s what they (promoters) want; no fuss, which is what gets us onto these bills, you’re set up in three minutes flat like, but when I’ve got my own headline shows, that’s when it’s going to be time to start thinking of a whole band.

DH: When the band does form, will it be associated with Rainy Boy Sleep, or will it be a separate entity?
SM: I think it’s always going to be, like I’m always going to be me, so this is just a project name, this is maybe my chance to be a bit weird, and you know, I can always use my own name for stuff. I always have that freedom to go on and have another project as well, a collaboration or something, there’s always that opportunity, so it’s just holding onto that freedom.

DH: Will you maintain creative control if you expand this project into a band?
SM: Well, you’ve got the general thing like, you’re playing to the sound of the record, but I mean, every musician is going to put in their own wee touch. It depends, like if you get a rock drummer, it’s going to be a lot more visceral than a jazz drummer, but then a jazz drummer is going to be more stylised, so I guess a happy medium (would be good). I wouldn’t want to be like, I need to stick with the vision, not get too far off it, like there’s room for flourishes and fitting in their own wee touches, but you know, (you have to) stick to the vision at the same time.

DH: You’ve only embraced the idea of being a pop artist relatively recently. Were you somewhat reluctant, for fear of others’ perception of current pop music being applied to your music?
SM: I wouldn’t really say pop. Well, I know the stuff’s pop, but I’m kind of anti-famous, anti-being famous, it’s just within the music, but that’s completely not what I’m about. I’m not after getting my face in the newspapers and that there, which is kind of the idea why the project is called “Rainy Boy Sleep”, you have to make your mind up about that, you need to sit back and go, “Right, OK, let’s figure this out.”, that’s why that’s always the first question asked, “That name, what does that mean?”, you immediately have to think into it, and I think that’s the reason why. But pop, I’ve always listened to pop, and, they’re the songs that I wanted to listen to, like growing up listening to Blondie in the car. Pop means pop you know, at the end of the day. If you can write a poppier song, let’s go.

DH: Your influences are something of a surprise. You’ve previously listed Metallica, Smashing Pumpkins, and System of a Down as artists that you like, as well as the more obvious ones like The Cure and Damien Rice. Are you still into that kind of thing?
SM: As I was saying like, it kind of dawns on you, “Here, I’m not listening to heavy or loud enough stuff: cue Deftones.”, and it was such an important part of my life, and it’s definitely going to come through more down the line in the songs.

DH: Yeah, currently, you don’t seem to incorporate too many of the heavier elements into your music: you have dark lyrics, but rather uplifting music. Do you think that contrast works well?
SM: Well, Manchester Post is like the closest so far, so I’ve got bits and pieces and riffs that I know I want to use in the future.

DH: Do you think your current style of music lends itself better than say, metal, to exploring darker lyrical themes?
SM: The juxtaposition of that happy sound, I don’t know, I know it’s a dirty word, but emo, it’s real uplifting music that’s really dark thematically, which is pretty much as dark as you can go. What’s that Fall Out Boy lyric, that first song, “When you wrap your car around the tree, your makeup looks so great next to the sea.”? It’s not an influence, but yeah, that all comes from The Smiths. I had a bit of an emo phase, but all emo comes from The Smiths, Joy Division and that stuff.

DH: I remember that you covered Joy Division one year at Stendhal, but you made it sound so upbeat.
SM: I thought it was funny anyway, it was almost a celebration, you know, “Love’s going to tear us apart, yay!” That’s my idea of humour.

DH: You obviously take a lot of influence from literature. What writers have had the most impact on you?
SM: A few years back, I was into a lot of early American writers, like Kerouac, Fitzgerald. I think life throws signs at you as well, as to what the next book that you should read should be. I don’t know how, but Dostoevsky as well, and Sartre, I started reading Age of Reason, but whatever happened anyway, I kind of put it down again, and Dostoevsky was the next thing. Actually, I put up a picture of “The Count of Monte Cristo” on Facebook, and said “It’s still the best book I’ve ever read.” and it’s a bit more slapstick, but I kind of want to laugh hilariously at it as well, and you don’t really get that with Fyodor, but it sparked a debate in the comment section underneath it, and someone said “Karamazov Brothers”, so I thought OK, that’s the next one. I love that, and I want to keep doing that, because somebody who is interested in getting into reading, and would pass them (books) otherwise, that’s how it happens, word of mouth, and that’s how I got into this book.

DH: It’s very evident that you have a real respect for storytelling. Have you ever directly taken musical influence from a book?
SM: I absorb stuff from books and that, but I love just hanging out with older people and hearing stories. Like sitting on long journeys, my soundman at the minute, Vinny, he’s got so many class stories, and it’s just a pleasure to sit in the car and just listen to these stories, like he’s got a story for everything, and I think that’s more of the stuff that goes into the songs, because it’s all broken down, it’s been filtered, it’s been thought out, and you have to be able to tell it in a way that’s going to make it good. You could tell the best story in the world, and some boring fucker telling it, it’s, “Aye, good one mate.”, so I think that makes its way into the songs. But you know, reading and keeping your mind open is so important, just being more aware.

DH: What else, outside of literature and music, do you take influence from?
SM: I have my favourite film, I like stuff by Danny Boyle, but The Graduate is my favourite film. Like, that’s obviously going to make its way in there as well. Traveling, nature and that as well, I love. As much as I don’t do it enough, going out and being in the fresh air, but I think whenever you’re hidden away in a dark room for so long, it’s all the more wonderful once you do go for a walk.

DH: Can you see music as always being your primary focus?
SM: I started off doing painting and photography and that, although it’s like something that you can’t just jump back into straight away, and go do that. It took me a year and a half to draw a decent portrait, and because I haven’t been drawing and doing that, it would have to be a conscious decision to say, “OK, I’m not going to focus on music as much right now.” when I do get back into that again, but it’s always something that I can do later on. Like music at the minute, I can’t take my hands off the guitar, it’s just immediate and there, you’ve got your catharsis right there.

DH: What’s been the toughest thing for you as a musician so far?
SM: Every musician I think has to go through the soul destroying gigs. I don’t think any musician can be a musician without doing them. I’d just go to this place, and there’s just nothing, no reaction, they’re the toughest, but I was thinking not so long ago; it was a particularly difficult gig I was playing, and halfway through the gig, I just started smiling, thinking “Snow Patrol had to do this shit!”, so aye, that’d be the hardest thing.

DH: How have you found working with Universal? Have there been any compromises?
SM: No, the album was finished and we presented the album and nothing had to be changed, so that was perfect.
DH: Have you written anything and felt that you couldn’t release it?
SM: Aye. Well it’s frustrating, I know, but I understand that the timing is very sensitive as well, but I’ve got songs, I’ve got a great song- well, what I think is a great song- but to release them now would be sheer folly. Two years down the line, aye, there has to be a bit more structure, get people’s idea of the whole thing first of all, before releasing.

DH: What does the next year hold for you?
SM: We’ve got some festivals to do in the summer, then, well the album release and that, so I’m working away, working with what I’ve got. Kind of what I would hope would be about 75 percent of the way through album number two, writing wise. I’m kind of writing on the side as well, songs that I won’t use myself. It keeps the whole artistic flow going as well, you don’t have the pressure of “Oh, I’m going to be singing this song, so it’s ok, I’ll just get this done in any way that I want.”. I’ve been writing with that (other artists) in mind, so there’s my own, there’s that stuff, but aye, just kind of keeping my head into the next album and that, because this one’s done, it’s been done for quite some time.

DH: Are you sick of playing the first album yet?
SM: Um, no.

DH: Are you allowed to say that?
SM: No, there are times I think, “Ah, that song’s grand like.”, and then you know, it’s on my phone or whatever and it would come on shuffle while I’m driving, and I’m like, “That’s pretty good!”, so no, I’m not sick of it, definitely not, but I can’t wait to get stuck into the new stuff as well.

DH: Is control over what you produce something that’s really important to you? Are you willing to let some things slide, or do you meticulously monitor what goes on in mixing?
SM: I am a bit of a control freak like. My bookcase is fucking, I don’t know if I do it on purpose, but it’s kind of intimidatingly neat. It comes and goes in waves, I think the artistic process is messy, it has to be messy, but then there’s this sort of element of control freakishness that takes over when you’re kind of closer to the end product, because you start freaking out. Rihanna has a good thing on Instagram about the creative process “Oh, this is great. Oh, this is maybe not so great. This is shit. I’m shit, and then hold on, maybe this is a wee bit good”, so that’s the way it goes like, the start it’s like “Whoa!” and then you slow down and think, “People are going to have to hear this, it’s not just in my own head,”. But control-wise, with Reuben producing the album, I think if there’d been too much (of my) control, then it would have been a lot different to what he came up with, because that vision that Reuben had, producing what were essentially singer-songwriter songs, and turning them into what they are now, I was overwhelmed at the start.

DH: You’ve been pretty successful in establishing your own style, which has obviously been intentional, but how much experimenting did that take?
SM: As I was saying about the accent and that, it took a while to evolve, and with Frightened Rabbit being such a big influence, it sort of opened my eyes to, “That is so honest.”, hearing these songs being sung in their own voice, and I mean there’s give or take with that as well, some songs don’t need that, if you need to change something and sing it in a more general accent, but stylistically, that’s been important. And then again, with the loop pedal, like I thought that I was just tied into having to be able to play songs that way live and not being able to put anything different on the record, but since working with Reuben, I know that that’s not the case. The most important thing is having a very energetic live show, and being very dynamic as well, so there has been a lot of experimentation. Where I was kind of a wee bit close-minded about the whole thing, working with other people as well really helped.

DH: You’ve gained quite the following in the last few months (as has been reflected in social media). Has the response been anything like you had anticipated?
SM: It’s always surprising me what gets the most likes, what kind of posts get the most likes, but I think I’m kind of getting to grips with that now a lot better, seeing what works and what doesn’t. Like the other night, I was sitting in the house, and just the phone beeped, “BBC Radio 1 are now following you on Twitter.”, I was like, “Oh fuck, that’s kind of a shock.”. It came up on the lock screen, so I took a screenshot, and put it up on Facebook, and three hundred odd likes, which (is mad) compared to not so long ago. It’s very simple things that everyone can kind of relate to, honest things work a lot better, not trying to be too out there, like “Hey, yeah, I’m just a tortured artist man”. I think the rock star is almost dead and gone.

I think Marilyn Manson could be like the last rock star ever, because everything’s changed now. Everybody wants to, everybody’s a celebrity now, because you’ve got your Twitter thing, you’ve got your followers, everybody is a celebrity and everybody’s got that celebrity ego thing in their head, if you have a Twitter, if you have a Facebook, then you’ve got that. There’s no such thing, because everybody’s a rock star now, and because of that like, who would I be to say that I’m any better than anyone at all? People want to know the person, people don’t want to know, because people think that, like I’m running around at the minute with people calling me “Rainy Boy Sleep” or whatever, but it’s not (my name), it’s a title for a project. At the minute, songwriters are such a big thing, because people are tapping into wanting to know the person, and because of that I think that the rock star is dead. I never wanted to be like that, but that’s the whole thing nowadays, I mean, music goes with the times, doesn’t it?

I’m never going to be completely on top of it, because you just don’t have to time to be a musician as well as an expert on how to fucking like, get fire tweets or whatever; there’s never enough time. I mean it’s fascinating, and obviously it’s very important, but it’s not the most important thing.

DH: Have you found anything surreal so far?
SM: I nearly met Alice Glass. We were playing Picnic, my mate was there along with me and we were just walking along backstage, and we seen Alice Glass walking towards her tour bus, and she was just looking round her, and then she kind of did a double take thinking, “Oh, those guys look famous!”, and then she realised, “Aw no, they’re not famous!” and went on the bus, but that was surreal.

DH: Have you been recognised yet?
SM: Aye, going in just to do support slots, and then coming out the back door after the show and thinking, “Nobody even knows my act, let alone my name.” and then they’re all, “Stevie, Stevie, give us an autograph!”, and all this here. Aye, it’s weird, but it’s all part of the fun like. That whole thing, what I’m saying about everbody’s a celebrity, it means so much to fans that they take a selfie with you, and they you know, tag you on Twitter, I think it’s great to be able to retweet that and it’s really special. I try to interact with every single one you know, because that’s what it’s all about these days. It’s so cool that they’re all excited, and then they tweet that on to the world, that’s cool.

DH: What are you currently listening to?
SM: I’m not really listening to anything at the minute. It comes and goes, because I’d kind of discover three or four bands at one time and then be obsessed- ah well, Neutral Milk Hotel, I was obsessed with their album for a while, and I learned a good few of them. I was obsessed with that album there, with King of the Carrot Flowers, Two Headed Boy, all throughout January and February, so that was the last thing I was really hardcore into. Do you ever get that you listen to an album way back, and then, “OK.”, and then it disappears for about a year, and it comes back, something just brings it back to you, and then that’s when you’re obsessed. So yeah I was obsessed like that, I suppose my neighbours were as well, for that matter.
But yeah, locally, Reuben is constantly working on the next thing; he’s a really, really focused artist. I was in Cork there, and just yeah, Reuben’s going to be big. He’s got a lot of things that he’s working with, and he’s always got his head fixed in it, so yeah, he’s going to take off.

DH: If you could transcend time, what artist would you see live?
SM: I really wish that I was old enough to see Slowdive, back then. They’re not the same any more. I know it’s not that long ago, but being around in London to see that kind of shoegaze. And Radiohead’s OK Computer gig in the Mandela- was that 97 or 98?- but that’s not even that long ago. But yeah, shoegaze, like Spiritualized, fuck, you know, I’d have loved to have been there, because I think that (the nineties) has been the most inspiring thing for bands at the minute, because the shoegaze thing is so, so good. Like, bands are taking the eighties as an influence and that, and you think, “OK, is it far enough away now that the nineties is a thing?”. I mean, the eighties thing has already been done a lot, hasn’t it?

DH: Is there anything that you wish I’d asked you?
SM: *fixes fringe* Um, “how do you get your hair like that?”

Check out the video for Rainy Boy Sleep’s latest single, “Manchester Post”, below (now available on iTunes).

Live Review: Rainy Boy Sleep, 24th October 2014

Rainy Boy Sleep with support from Chelsey Chambers
Friday 24th October 2014 – Mason’s, Derry

Having recently signed to Universal, this is the penultimate Northern Irish show for the singer-songwriter Rainy Boy Sleep. Promoting his new EP, “Ambulance”, he is effortlessly straddling the transition from renowned local artist to a major act, continuing to strike the balance between larger venues and more intimate ones.

With no announcement, Chelsey Chambers took to the stage. Her strength lies in her vocal performance, with her self-styled strain of country-pop making for easy listening. Performing tracks such as ‘Turn Back Time’ and ‘A Million Homes’, it is obvious that her song writing is highly personal, and is brimming with pleasantly relaxing harmonies and hooks. Despite her quietly confident performance, she leaves the stage with little ceremony.

After a brief amount of fine tuning, Rainy Boy Sleep stepped up to the mic, kicking off with an unreleased and acutely melodic song called ‘Jeanie’- it’s a solid start, but so far, nothing out of the ordinary. However, the wonderfully witty ‘Yours Truly’ takes on a new depth in such an intimate venue; never has writing letters to dead girls seemed so hopelessly romantic (or plausible) a concept.

By the time he reaches the ode to platonic love, ‘Shopping Centre Song’, he has well and truly broken into his stride. The self-assured swagger with which he performs has become even more pronounced with the addition of some shiny new backing tracks (courtesy of the prolific dance producer, Reuben Keeney), and is nothing short of endearing, making him even more engaging to observe. The wonderfully melancholic ‘One After One’ follows – it is something of an oxymoron in that it manages to be powerful yet subdued, beautiful but haunting all at once, all of which are indicative of a truly great songwriter.

The lead track from his forthcoming album, ‘Waiting Games’ is a sweet, agreeable, but somewhat anaemic offering, serving primarily to showcase his dizzying vocal range (and presumably, is intended to appeal to both radio stations and his hoard of female fans). ‘Your Face’, penned at Glastonbury 2011, fulfils a similar purpose, and from anybody else, such a song would surely be praised; however, it lacks his trademark acerbic twist, and is verging on being overly sentimental, which is nothing short of a pity when his capacity for being sharp is otherwise so evident.

Thankfully, the bite re-enters his performance in the shape of the charmingly self-deprecating ‘Stupid Boy’, but for me, the show is stolen by ‘Manchester Post’, which has been revamped to the point that it is barely recognisable. A track which admittedly, I previously found underwhelming, is now stunning in the most unexpected way- it is punchy and danceable, and despite its genre-bending tone, lends his self-defined label of “folktronica” some real meaning.

The set is rounded off with the crash course in duality that is the title track of his recently released EP, ‘Ambulance’. The notably dark subject matter (which just happens to be violence within an abusive relationship, since you asked) is presented in a jaunty, playful, almost joyous way, complete with a children’s choir on backing vocals. The contrast between the uplifting harmonies and the brutality of the lyrics is at no point either inappropriate or misleading: it is truly clever, which is even further evidence that Rainy Boy Sleep is a musical talent that is not to be underestimated by any means.

A compelling set from an intriguing artist, the only disappointment of the evening was the lack of audience turnout, but he even managed to turn this to his advantage: instead of feeling (relatively) sparsely populated, the room felt full of excitement and bated breath. It’s difficult not to feel rather privileged, as seeing a performer as truly stellar as Rainy Boy Sleep in such an intimate venue is a rarity, especially in the face of his surely imminent success.