With last year’s ‘All These Countless Nights’, Deaf Havana finally became the band they wanted to be. They found peace in their struggles, sounded comfortable in who they were and laid their demons to rest. The band had been through a lot, and you could tell.
Their debut album saw them as a screaming, hardcore mob until their then lead singer left. ‘Fools and Worthless Liars’, their first with James Veck-Gilodi upfront, was a fizzying mix of frustrated storytelling and brit-rock enthusiasm, while ‘Old Souls’ had more in common with Bruce Springsteen than Lower Than Atlantis or You Me At Six.
After triumphing on the Main Stage of Reading & Leeds in 2014, they disappeared. In the silence, they almost broke up. Two years later and the roar of ‘All These Countless Nights’ saved them.
What happened next, “was just the best year we’ve ever had as a band,” beams James. “It was just incredible. We toured more than we’ve ever had.”
Their new album ‘Rituals’ isn’t about safety, though. It’s not the next step. It’s not a bit more. ‘Rituals’ is something entirely different.
When the band came home from tour last November, James knew he had to write an album. “All I had were two demos which were not good,” he says, and the feeling that “there’s no way I’m going to be able to it. I wrote thirty songs over four years for the last album. It was four years of experiences.”
Phil Gornell, the band’s front of house technician, invited James up to his studio for three days to do some demos and see if that sparked anything.
“I ended up staying for three months,” says James. The pair sat in front of a computer and learnt to build songs that way. “It was so bizarre. It was totally different from how we’ve ever made an album before. I wouldn’t recommend writing a record that way, but it sorta worked out I guess,” he ventures, uncertain for just a moment.
Matt doesn’t waver. “Everyone says this when they have an album out, but it is the best thing we’ve done. Yeah, it is slightly more poppy, but it’s also the most creative thing we’ve done.”
“If something started sounding a bit bizarre and made us ask, ‘Is this a bit too far?’, instead of saying ‘Let’s not do it’ we decided if we’re going to do it, we have to go for it,” starts Matt. “And go for it wholeheartedly. You can hear that we haven’t given it any half measures. We’ve thrown ourselves completely into it. It might sound different to what people might expect from us, but really, it’s a better record as a result,” he promises.
Deaf Havana never once get defensive about ‘Rituals’, their shiny new direction or just how different things sound. It’s another rock band gone pop, but it isn’t cynical or calculated. The band have once again stumbled forward, but there’s a commitment to the change. A confidence in the charge.
For any other band would sound unbelievable; ‘Rituals’ is so deliberate, so sure of itself. But Deaf Havana have been turning accident to triumph for their whole careers now.
It’s why the band were so open to doing something different.
“At the start, I didn’t get it,” admits Matt.
He wasn’t the only one. The first song finished for the record was ‘Sinner’, so James sent it to their manager. The reply was that this wasn’t going to work. Two days later though, and he’d come around. It was the same for Matt.
That initial doubt led to James questioning himself a lot, but “it’s not like I sat down and said, right, this record needs to be pop. It just ended up sounding like that. What we listen to now is all pop. I don’t really listen to music with guitars in, and that’s an evolution over the past four years. We’ve changed. It’s a natural progression.
About 70% of the record is pure truth. The rest is exaggerated for dramatic effect and because that’s what happens when you’re left alone with your head. The religious titles are a metaphor for that struggle for absolution. They were also written before the songs, to try and help speed up the writing process.
On ‘Worship’ Deaf Havana sing, “I’m still the fucked up kid I was from the start.” It’s something James always thought he’d grow out of.
“This record is about owning your mistakes. I needed to get it out,” admits James.
And for good reason.
“We don’t feel good all the time,” shrugs James. “We’re still poor. It’s a battle to get there, so why make out that it’s any different? I don’t want to listen to a song about how good someone’s life is. I like the lowest points. I love miserable lyrics I don’t know how else to write.
“I can see why you’d think this album would be optimistic though. It surprised us, as well. I wasn’t expecting to write this album; it came out. The most extreme parts are a bit elaborated, but it’s mainly me,” he continues, before pausing and losing any remaining pride in his past.
‘Rituals’ bleeds and pours. It was written as a stream of consciousness, and hasn’t changed much since.
The band had ‘Heaven’ for ages and, with one week to go until they had to hand the record in, they still needed lyrics. It was the day after James’ birthday, and he was still fuzzy from the night before.
“I just drank a bottle of prosecco,” he remembers. “I remember waking up from a blackout, and I’d written these lyrics, recorded these voice notes of melodies, so I went and recorded it. It’s my favourite song on the record, but I do not remember writing those lyrics. The whole thing was like that. It’s very in the moment. I know it sounds cliché, but it came from somewhere else. The lyrics I normally write, I spend hours agonising over. This was so natural. It might be an age thing. It might be subconsciously feeling more comfortable, because I do but it’s never really happened like that before.”
“Again, I was drunk. I was in a really bad headspace. I just imagined my life if I could start again. Up until now, everything I’ve done has been the opposite of what I wanted to do. I don’t think I’m a good pillar of society. At my core, I don’t think I’m a good person. I ended up writing a list of all the things I wished I’d done. I wanted to turn it into a full song, but it ended up being okay on its own as an outro.
James is okay, he thinks.
Deaf Havana are okay being vulnerable. Sure, it’s “less than I think, but I’m working on it,” continues Matt. “It’s difficult. It does require a bit of work, but it’s important.”
From the bold steps of ‘Rituals’ to that big ol’ headline show at Brixton Academy later this year, Deaf Havana mean business.
“Everything about this record and where we are right now is trying to make that statement,” starts Matt, as James adds: “We fucking mean it. It’s the first time I’ve felt this way. I’ve never wanted to be in control of this band. I’ll do the music, everyone else can sort other stuff out, but now, I want to be in charge of everything. I want to do everything. And I have been, which is weirdly satisfying. I don’t know why that is but I back it. I want this record to be for everyone. I’d love people to listen to it and really agonise over the lyrics, but I also want people just to shut off and dance to it. I want it to be for everyone, but also, I haven’t really thought about it,” grins James, as he sums the band up all at once.
“It’s for people who like dancing and crying,” beams Matt.
Deaf Havana have always just gone with it and whatever happens, happens. 2018 has been no different, but for the first time, they’re not just seeing what happens. They’re hoping for the best.
Taken from Dork's Big Album Guide, out now. Deaf Havana’s album ‘Rituals’ is out 10th August.
Words: Ali Shutler
Deaf Havana finally got a win on ‘All These Countless Nights’ after years of being a bit unlucky, a bit glum. All the pieces fell into place, so it makes the risk of Going Pop even greater.
It’s why the band were so open to doing something different.
“At the start, I didn’t get it,” admits Matt.
He wasn’t the only one. The first song finished for the record was ‘Sinner’, so James sent it to their manager. The reply was that this wasn’t going to work. Two days later though, and he’d come around. It was the same for Matt.
That initial doubt led to James questioning himself a lot, but “it’s not like I sat down and said, right, this record needs to be pop. It just ended up sounding like that. What we listen to now is all pop. I don’t really listen to music with guitars in, and that’s an evolution over the past four years. We’ve changed. It’s a natural progression.
About 70% of the record is pure truth. The rest is exaggerated for dramatic effect and because that’s what happens when you’re left alone with your head. The religious titles are a metaphor for that struggle for absolution. They were also written before the songs, to try and help speed up the writing process.
On ‘Worship’ Deaf Havana sing, “I’m still the fucked up kid I was from the start.” It’s something James always thought he’d grow out of.
“This record is about owning your mistakes. I needed to get it out,” admits James.
