"It's like, oh, they exist," says Arthur Hill. "They're real." He's fresh from a meet and greet, and the reminder that his fans actually do come in three dimensions has cheered him up no end. In a few hours, he's on the main stage at Reading, for which he has set himself a target. "I hope at least ten of them are going to be there."
Ten would be a bit of a shock. In March, Arthur Hill headlined OVO Arena Wembley to twelve thousand people, with a brass section and, remarkably, not even a sniff of the debut album that feels increasingly like it might be imminent. "I still look back at Wembley and doubt that it actually happened," he says. "It was so surreal and just so much fun."
The night's most repeatable moment began as a staffing question. "I found out we were getting a horn section for the show, and I was like, are we gonna have a sax? And they were like, yeah. And I was like, well, how can we have a sax and not do 'Careless Whisper'?"
You would think that logic was watertight, but the professionals around him who are supposed to know about this sort of thing thought otherwise. "I actually got quite a lot of pushback. They were like, the crowd aren't gonna know it. And I was like, they're gonna know it. They are gonna know it."
They did know it, which is a risk in itself when you're covering a legitimate legend like George Michael. The clips ran for months, and in July, the cover became an official Arthur Hill single, by which point everyone involved presumably denied the pushback had ever happened. It's in the set again this afternoon. "Sadly, I can't bring George Michael out," Arthur says, confirming that divine resurrection isn't one of his party tricks. "But I would if I could."
"How can we have a sax and not do 'Careless Whisper'?"
The reason he's been scarce from festival fields all summer is half diligence, half ligament. Writing camps for the debut album at the start of the year, and then his knee. "Managed to tear my ACL," he explains, like he was due to start in the hole for England otherwise. Is he fixed? "Getting there. Enough for main stage health."
Leeds, on Friday, was the knee's first proper test. "It was amazing, man. You never know what to expect, but it was a really good turnout and lots of fun." Today is the loaded one, though. "Reading's the first festival I went to. It's like, ten years ago that I came here," he says. "I've got loads of friends coming. It's very close to home." He played the Festival Republic tent here in 2024, and a decade ago, he was out in that crowd doing the version without clean toilets and patio furniture. "It's a rite of passage, isn't it? I have fond memories and also not-so-fond memories. It's a learning curve, this festival, when you're 16. Much nicer this time around to have access to showers and things."
His one complaint about the homecoming is what they've decided to call the stage this year, when everything needs a brand, and all those brands sound like sticky-floored region nightclubs. "I don't want to say I did the Grid at Reading. I want Main Stage."
Eighteen months ago, he told us, with Brixton Academy looming, "When people mention Brixton, I get very scared." It seems a bit silly now. Brixton came and went triumphantly, alongside a sold-out UK tour, then Australia and New Zealand in January. He had a month across America opening for Ruel, the aforementioned Wembley, and still, every week, Mummy's Boy - the podcast he hosts with his mum. The fear is clearly an effective fuel.
Comedy was Arthur's first career, with lockdown sketches picking him up a following north of a million and a half, and it's finally being allowed to bleed back into the music. 'Orange Wine' exists because he was bored with his own sadness. "We'd written a lot of stuff about personal experience, and I wanted to break from writing about sad stuff. I asked myself, what do I go through that's kind of funny? And it's like, oh, I look like this, I dress like this, I think I'm really cool, but am I actually cool when I look around and everyone's kind of as cool as me?"
The answer struts about like a prime era pop star, while also thematically taking a tumble off the edge of the stage. It's "a real-time thing of me in my head, being in a bar", he explains. "I guess hitting on a girl, but not really, and sort of realising halfway through that I don't think I have a chance."
America is next, headlining this time after the Ruel apprenticeship. "I've never been to the US for my own shows. I have no idea what to expect, but I'm super excited. You sort of dream about that, going across the States. It's very surreal." His actual dream itinerary, for the record, is Kalkan, Turkey. "I think it's the perfect holiday destination. It's cheaper than most places in Europe, it's got a very mini strip, but it's also family-friendly. Nice beach. It's incredible."
Arthur's first gig ever was a support slot for Dylan at The Garage, just him and a PA system. "I remember feeling extremely awkward. I would love to see a picture of that, because it would be nice to see I'm actually better than I was then." Did anyone turn up? "People did turn up. Obviously not for me. But there were people in the room, and that's what counts."
They're in the field for him this afternoon; not ten of them, but several thousand more past his estimate. Once that album finally lands, the modest maths can probably be retired for good. Arthur Hill is headed exactly where everybody except Arthur Hill assumes he is. And for the record, today was the Main Stage, whatever the sign said.
Arthur Hill's single 'Orange Wine' is out Friday 4th September.
