After smashing through milestone after milestone with their self-titled debut, Somebody's Child retreated to create something more considered. As they prepare to unleash new material at Live At Leeds: In The City, Cian Godfrey talks artistic evolution, creative boundaries, and making peace with time's endless march.

Words: Stephen Ackroyd.
Photos: Jim Fuller.

Time is doing that thing again – you know, that thing where it somehow manages to slip through your fingers while simultaneously feeling like it's stuck in treacle. Dublin's Somebody's Child - the project led by Cian Godfrey - know the feeling. Two years ago, they were just another promising indie band with a debut album in their back pocket. Since then, they've been headlining big rooms, supporting Kings of Leon at BST Hyde Park, and crafting the kind of second record that feels less like a carefully curated art exhibition – one where every piece tells part of a larger story about growing up without growing old.

'When Youth Fades Away', arriving via Frenchkiss Records next March, didn't come from the usual songwriting playbook of touring exhaustion and difficult second album syndrome. Instead, it emerged from a period of self-imposed creative monasticism, where Cian went all in on the process, restricting himself to just a handful of musical influences and treating album-making like a spiritual retreat.

"The goal for this album was to get lost in the process," he explains, speaking ahead of the band's appearance at Live At Leeds: In The City later this month. "We got to a place where we stopped trying to write and just tried to control what we were putting into the room, the energy or whatever you want to call it."

From anyone else, that might sound pretentious or trite, but there's something refreshingly earnest about Godfrey's approach – he's more like a scientist trying to control variables in an experiment where the hypothesis is, "What if we actually gave ourselves space to create?"

The results speak for themselves. Working with Grammy-winning producer Peter Katis (the man behind landmark albums from The National and Interpol) in Connecticut, the band have crafted something that feels both intimately personal and ambitiously expansive. "It was a very fulfilling creative project, a feeling I've been seeking since starting to write music," Godfrey reflects. "It's hard to explain how it all came together, but the whole thing felt pretty natural throughout. Then, once we knew where we were recording the record, it became easier to visualise the finished article."

That visualisation process wasn't just about imagining how the songs would sound – it was about creating an entire world. "The debut is more a collection of songs; this, we knew was a completely different undertaking. We wanted to live in the world we were creating." It's an approach that recalls the meticulous world-building that marks some of our greatest bands – albums that are complete universes unto themselves.

To get there, Godfrey took the kind of dramatic steps that would make a returning Daniel Day-Lewis nod in approval. "I only listened to five artists for months in advance in an attempt to refine my taste and, ultimately, the output," he reveals. "I think there are so many options for artists to take inspiration from now, it is actually a hindrance." He won't name the chosen few, but adds with a mix of reverence and ambition that "they were artists that we knew we could never get close to. Always far enough away so we couldn't touch them."

This monastic approach to creativity might seem extreme, but it's part of a larger pattern of artistic growth. The past year has seen Somebody's Child graduate from promising new name to serious contenders, with landmark shows that include a headline spot at Dublin's Olympia Theatre – "which was a big deal for us from a personal perspective" – and support slots for some of rock's heaviest hitters. "We've been lucky enough to play some special gigs," Godfrey notes, before adding that supporting The War On Drugs was "perhaps the best-sounding gig I've ever been to."

But rather than rest on these achievements, the band retreated to studios in Bantry, Cork and Margate, before making that fateful journey to Connecticut. The album that emerged deals with ageing and perspective in ways that feel both universal and deeply personal. "I think I've been exploring those themes for a while, indirectly," Godfrey explains. "This album felt like a huge maturing period for us, and as someone who's overly conscious about their age, that became a key theme. Ultimately, I think on this album, I discover why that is."

He's quick to point out that this isn't just another case of 'indie band' makes 'nostalgic second album'. "It's not about nostalgia," he insists, "which I believe has negative connotations. The record is about acceptance and finding your place within time. It's about looking back with fondness, and taking whatever you need from that. It's probably the achievement I'm most proud of in my life. But also figure it out for yourself."

The recording process itself became a lesson in creative pressure-cooking. "One thing I learned is that pressure can be used as an instrument," Godfrey observes. "Having a deadline that you have to adhere to is something that inspires me quite a lot. Having a purpose is essential to creating meaningful work." It's a refreshing admission in an era where anyone creative is expected to make art that emerges fully formed from pure inspiration.

As Live At Leeds approaches, Cian is preparing to test these new songs in front of an audience. "We'll be introducing new songs from the album over the next few gigs, which we're excited for," he explains. "It's hard to still get excited about some of the older stuff now, so a change is welcomed."

Still, that approach to curating the artists that influence him means he won't necessarily be out scouting for his new favourite band while 'oop North'. While many artists might use such festivals as an opportunity to discover new music, Godfrey maintains a deliberate distance from the current scene. "I'm probably not the person to ask in the band with regard to new music. As a songwriter, I find it hard to listen to new stuff and not get influenced by it, as everyone's production has gotten so good, which has its benefits, but at the moment, I think it is counterintuitive to finding your own voice."

He does, however, make exceptions for a select few acts. "We've been on tour with Kysny before, so I'll be trying to catch her. Cardinals are another Irish band on my radar for a little while with some great tunes." It's a reminder that even in self-imposed artistic isolation, community still matters.

The whole process of this latest record has been marked by a sense of creative mortality – the knowledge that nothing lasts forever, especially in the music industry. "The whole time, I was telling myself that this could be the last album we get to do, you never know, so I wanted to leave all of myself on it," Cian admits. It's exactly this kind of clear-eyed realism that makes 'When Youth Fades Away' a record that feels more than likely to skip the sophomore slump – the sound of a band not just growing up, but growing into themselves.

But while the rest of us are doomscrolling through an endless parade of hot takes and cold comfort, Cian's glued to the television, "pondering what the next four years will be like" as America makes its choice. Fresh from recording 'When Youth Fades Away' stateside, his thoughts drift to Peter and Kurt, who helped craft the record in Connecticut – a reminder that behind every news cycle are real people, real connections, real art still being made.

It's almost too on-the-nose – here's an artist who's made an album about time's relentless march forward, watching history pivot in real-time. But maybe that's the point. While the world spins ever faster on its axis of uncertainty, Somebody's Child have created something that feels both timeless and utterly of the moment. The future might look a bit wobblier today than it did yesterday, but at least we'll have a proper soundtrack for whatever comes next.