Gently Tender: "We’re extremely ambitious; we’re not here to fuck around" | Dork
Gently Tender: "We’re extremely ambitious; we’re not here to fuck around"
Palma Violets were once at the very top of the new band buzz tree; now, three of the band are back with their new project Gently Tender - and it sees them team up with The Big Moon’s Celia Archer, and guitarist Adam Brown.
The Beaconsfield is an interesting pub. Situated straight opposite a multiplex that combines everything you need to live in a modern, changing London (if, by everything you mean a Homebase, TK Maxx, a McDonald’s, Poundland and some sweet beds from Dreams), it’s a place that has tried reinventing before - but maintains a certain aura. Odd bottles, regulars sitting at the bar and an endless supply of lemonade, it’s easy to make yourself comfortable here from the world outside its walls.
Peeking into its small outside patio, it’s where you can find a certain figure who knows a thing or two about shaking things up and going again. Someone whose absence, and in turn his band’s absence, left many wondering a simple question. What on earth happened and what now? It’s what Sam Fryer is here to talk all about.
Gently Tender may seem like a fresh new band pulled together from time distancing themselves from the shadow of their former band, but in reality, it’s the sort of evolution they’d been teasing as those latter Palmas years wound out. After five years of a full-on ride to here, there and well - everywhere, it’s a time that an older Sam can sit and look back on with incredible fondness and perspective.
Gently Tender would simply never have come into existence without it, both literally and musically. Front pages spearheaded by the faces of Sam and co-frontman Chilli and sweaty rooms swarmed them, the hype train pushed them into new found territories and for a moment - they were undoubtedly the biggest new band in the country.
The end of Palma Violets felt less like a big bang of the adrenaline that fizzed them to that point, but a gentle comedown of everything they achieved and the discovery of where they all as musicians wanted to go next.
“We were actually writing a lot when the split happened, and writing consistently, but the thing was that me and Chilli just weren’t writing together as it came to the end. We became two different people, as you do when you grow up from the ages of 18 to 24 - and we were writing better songs, both of us, when we weren’t in the same studio.
On the day they got kicked out of that infamous 180 studio they called home in Lambeth, Palma Violets ended.
What they’d started to write though, became the seeds of something else. Sam, along with ex-Palmas Pete Mayhew and Wiliam Doyle had the exciting new direction they were starting to emerge into, now they needed the time to explore it. There wasn’t that gap that you’d associate with being away for nearly three years, the work and wheels were in motion.
“Where we left off with Palmas, we never stopped. We just carried on,” explains Sam. “We had these songs that we had been working on already when we were still a band there, and we just continued on that path. We really enjoyed it, writing as many songs as possible and having that freedom.
That fuller sound is something Sam points to the new additions that came into play as they continued to grow as being a key part in helping them evolve - making them a shining new proposition above and beyond this idea of Palmas Part 2. If you want to have a new band in 2018 that can cause a bit of a stir, having Celia from The Big Moon involved definitely helps.
After a long history between the Palmas and The Big Moon, it felt like an easy and natural coming together (“we’ve been on many tours with The Big Moon and they’re very close to us. I see them all the time,” notes Sam). Along with fellow new addition Adam Brown - it feels like a force that simply can’t be stopped.
“We know what it takes, but there’s also the fact that we’re very excited for where we can take it - we’re still a bit apprehensive about what it’s exactly going to be like in the end” contemplates Sam, taking another swig of his pint as he ponders the ways in which they’ve grown even in the past few months.
Their first shows certainly suggest it. From an intimate, last-minute show at The Finsbury down the road (“we’re definitely a North London band now, our studio is just around the corner from here”), to a scorching hot set at The Old Blue Last after an England world cup game (“it was like Magaluf with everyone in the road”), and a packed out headline set at The Lock Tavern - being back on stage is something they’ve been aching to do.
Where Palmas took them to a certain height, Gently Tender are wanting more. There’s a hunger and searing ambition in the way Sam talks about the band, a confidence and eagerness to get out into the world after spending the time honing and building their defining statements to the world. Now it’s out there; there’s no slowing them - it’s fair to wonder where he wants them to be after the spiralled speed of what he’s already done.
A new beginning, born out of the lessons and experiences of the past - Gently Tender are a band ready to take that next step, a combination and team of musicians all wrapped in the sounds they’re creating and the freedom to do whatever the fuck they want to do. New terrains and new sounds that can transport anyone to different eras and different times - what they do next is beautifully unpredictable.
What is clear, is that they’re primed to be the next favourite band of a whole load of people - a new take on something that throws any preconceptions you may have out the window. Much like The Beaconsfield he finds himself in, reinvention brings itself whole new comforts of home and the freedom to do it in the first place. As he strolls through, ambition is prime on his mind - an unfinished business that Gently Tender are determined to seize with the music coming next.
The name is Gently Tender, and the future is the only thing they’re set on now. Rightfully so, because it’s guaranteed to be theirs.
Taken from the September issue of Dork.
Words: Jamie Muir
Where Palmas took them to a certain height, Gently Tender are wanting more. There’s a hunger and searing ambition in the way Sam talks about the band, a confidence and eagerness to get out into the world after spending the time honing and building their defining statements to the world. Now it’s out there; there’s no slowing them - it’s fair to wonder where he wants them to be after the spiralled speed of what he’s already done.
A new beginning, born out of the lessons and experiences of the past - Gently Tender are a band ready to take that next step, a combination and team of musicians all wrapped in the sounds they’re creating and the freedom to do whatever the fuck they want to do. New terrains and new sounds that can transport anyone to different eras and different times - what they do next is beautifully unpredictable.
What is clear, is that they’re primed to be the next favourite band of a whole load of people - a new take on something that throws any preconceptions you may have out the window. Much like The Beaconsfield he finds himself in, reinvention brings itself whole new comforts of home and the freedom to do it in the first place. As he strolls through, ambition is prime on his mind - an unfinished business that Gently Tender are determined to seize with the music coming next.
The name is Gently Tender, and the future is the only thing they’re set on now. Rightfully so, because it’s guaranteed to be theirs.
