Interview: Fright Years: ‘We Don’t Want to Be an Energy That Burns Out Quickly’

The best music to listen to is also the worst to write about. Once a band transcends the descriptors that fill faux-enthusiastic press copy (see: ethereal, songwriting born from vulnerability, twinkling, and sprawling), our job instantly becomes harder: it’s easy to liken a band to The Velvet Underground, but it’s far harder to describe je ne sais quoi without getting drunk on your own perfume in the process.

I knew this was going to be a trying piece to write up when I first heard Fright Years, because they’ve pinned down the ‘it’ factor in indie music that is as difficult to detail as it is undeniable.

Perhaps their draw is truly in the lyrical vulnerability, and I ought to humble myself – or maybe it’s that the band always seem to know when to home in on microscopic-level tonality, and when to send the more delicate pieces up in flame through a damning frisson.

Unstarched and fully autonomous, Fright Years bring the tantra back to heartfelt indie music that is often lost in the more formalised production studios of London. I caught them at The Great Escape Festival this year to ask how they pull it off.

Glasgow’s musical ecosystem has maybe had the spotlight, Edinburgh not so much; are there any gaps you’re trying to fill in the city’s music scene?

Jules Kelly: Everyone hates on Edinburgh and says, ‘You need to move somewhere else to make music that is going to reach people’, but I think your environment is just such a massive influence on the sound that you have.

We have a studio by the beach, and I think we’re all happy there – and it all blends into your sound. That didn’t really answer the question directly, but we’re happy to be in Edinburgh and representing the city.

If you had to guess, what would be some tangible differences in your music’s outcome if you were to be based somewhere else?

Jules: I think the fact that we have a space in Edinburgh that’s rented per month means that you can go in there and be relaxed about what you’re making; that, and the fact that there isn’t really a ‘scene’ in Edinburgh, gives us a sense of independence.

There isn’t somewhere to fit into, so you almost have to spread out and push for mainstream with your sound. I think, when you don’t have any references that are nearby, you don’t have to be a niche in any way, though we couldn’t even if we tried. We like to pull from every genre; we’re really outward-looking.

You’ve said that you want to convey ‘both confidence and sensitivity’.

Jules: I think the way that the band plays naturally makes for quite a confident sound – while my lyricism is quite confident too, I personally love songwriting that is really personal, but otherwise has an outward-facing sound.

You don’t really feel anything as a lyricist unless you write about your own life, but I think the way that we conveyed it always stops with a sense of conclusion or peace with the situation. That actually makes it more impersonal when you’re performing it, which is really cool, I think.

What are some recent creative breakthroughs that you feel you’ve had, either individually or as a collective?

Fraser Charles (bassist, designated heavy-object carrier): First of all, I’ve never been wrong. But I am a new addition, and I just worked on my first single of many that I have contributed to as a bassist. I couldn’t be happier with it; we were experimenting more with the sort of 80s sound that we’re really excited to be bringing to the table.

What would you say is the riskiest song on your EP Still Life, and why did it make it there regardless?

Struan Blacklock (drummer): ‘Do What You Wanna’ is the risqué-est.

Jules: I’m taking the microphone back. For us, it’s actually quite a vanilla song; sometimes when I play it live, I’m like ‘Jules, just give it up.’ It might be quite on the nose, and it really depends on how you take it. It’s about womanhood and being shut up, and just telling people, ‘I know what I’m doing’.

What are some influences that inform your work, but might not be immediately obvious to the average listener?

Harrison McLeod-Bonnar (guitarist): Perhaps a Glaswegian band called The Blue Nile? It’s got that timeless quality that we’re always striving for. It sounds like it could’ve been made last week, and that’s always the ultimate goal.

Struan: I’ve got one: weather [immediately vetoed by Jules].

Fraser: I’ve always been quite a rock-influenced bassist. On ‘Never Been Wrong’, I was touching influences like the bass that Bakithi Kumalo does on Paul Simon’s Graceland. I’ve never really written a bassline like that, so it was nice to cut back a bit, since I’m always a bit heavy. It’s that fretless sound that I’m trying to emulate more.

Jules: Fraser brought a lot of influence to that song, and what he was bringing forth brought us to a different place where we were connecting in that percussion-y space, but with a more wildish female vocal – and then the harmonies are really strict, and that’s kind of where it all blends together.

Struan, you mentioned the weather being an unexpected influence on the resulting sound.

Struan: So we practice entirely in a warehouse, and it gets freezing cold in the winter months. We know for a fact that you ultimately just need to turn up and play, and you can’t get too upset about it. It’s kind of horrible, actually. It’s terrible.

Jules: It makes us come up with things quickly because we’re so miserable in there.

Have you ever heard your music described in a way that surprised you?

Jules: Yeah. One time, I heard our music be called ‘fizzy’. I don’t like things being called fizzy because I think that is just silly. I’m not saying we’re insanely cool, but we’re not gimmicky. We don’t want to be an energy that burns out quickly; we’re looking for timelessness.

You keep mentioning a striving for timelessness in your music. What do you think makes a song or an element timeless?

Struan: Not bowing down to or chasing what’s cool now. The things we all love and have in common are loving all the great bands, and we’ve never been like, ‘Oh this is going well, so let’s try it more . . .’ We always just go back to our foundations.

Harrison: When ideas come along, we’re writing for the other three people in the room – it only really needs to impress the other three people for us to pursue it.

Jules: None of our references are ever based on a specific band, but we all share the same favourite songs – and that’s kind of what we get excited about. I feel it’s like when you’re writing for parts more than for instruments.

For instance, sometimes in one song we’ll have a synth part and a guitar part – that’s how you know you’re not writing for a ‘scene’, and genuinely just doing what’s best for the song.

Still Life is out now via Bandcamp

Photo credit: Diana Dumi