Return of the magnificent Samurai Seven

The Samurai Seven

More than 25 years ago, in 1998, when I was living on the South Coast of England, working as a freelance music journalist and putting on gigs, I was blown away when I saw Oxford power-pop-indie-punk band The Samurai Seven play an anti-vivisection benefit show at my local venue, The Wedgewood Rooms, in Portsmouth.

Melding infectious melodies with buzzsaw guitars and Beach Boys harmonies, they arrived in a blur of sharp nylon suits and scissor kicks, and I liked them so much that I booked them for a return visit a few months later, and they played another blinder.

Sadly, the four-piece – Simon Williams (vocals and guitar), his brother, Matt Williams (rhythm guitar and vocals), Jimmy Martin (bass guitar and vocals), and Chris Hayward (drums) – split up in the early Noughties, never fulfilling their true potential.

‘Melding infectious melodies with buzzsaw guitars and Beach Boys harmonies, The Samurai Seven arrived in a blur of sharp nylon suits and scissor kicks’

Tipped for big things – The Samurai Seven did five sessions at Maida Vale Studios for John Peel, as well as recording the theme tune to his Channel Four TV show, Sound of the Suburbs – the band had to put their plans on hold when, in February 1999, on Valentine’s Night, Williams was shot in the eye with an air gun in a drive-by incident in Oxford.

Luckily, his sight was saved by the NHS at Oxford Eye Hospital, and he took time out to recover while the band waited patiently.

However, the music industry had moved on, and The Samurai Seven struggled to regain momentum. An album, Le Sport, was belatedly recorded and released on Rotator Records in 2002 and on Boundless Records in Japan the same year.

But, with their confidence eroded, the band had lost their sense of purpose and focus. When Hayward then decided to leave the group, the original gang was broken. The remaining members drifted on, gradually moving onto new bands, starting families and studying. The story of The Samurai Seven ended there for the moment…

But now they’re back with the original lineup – they reformed to play some shows last year – and a brand-new single, the politically-charged, killer power-pop-meets-garage-rock of ‘Punching Down’, and, in a neat twist of fate, I’m putting them on in my local venue, Vault 17 in Chesham, Buckinghamshire on June 25. I moved away from Portsmouth shortly after the band’s last gig there all those years ago.

In an exclusive interview, frontman Williams, who lives in Oxfordshire, tells Say It With Garage Flowers how and why The Samurai Seven reformed, what it’s like to be back with the band, and if they’ll be doing scissor kicks on stage now they’re middle-aged.

Q&A

Hi, Simon. The last time we spoke was in the late ‘90s…

Simon Williams: It’s been too long.

How does it feel to be back with the band?

It’s incredible. The first time around, I thought we were four little identical samurai, but we’re all different, and it’s those differences that means that we all get on well. If I was in a band with myself, it would probably be a nightmare.

‘We’re not doing it because we’re obligated to – we’re doing it because we want to. I sound like Billie Piper!’

The other thing about being back together is that we’re not doing it because we’re obligated to – we’re doing it because we want to. I sound like Billie Piper! The music I’m writing is just what I fancy doing, and the guys are enjoying playing it.

It’s even harder now to be in a band than it was before, because there’s so little money from record sales, and Spotify pays so little, and it’s harder and harder for promoters to make money putting on gigs, so they’re increasingly wanting to put on things that might pull in more people, like covers bands. We’re lucky to be in a situation where we’re having a second bite of the cherry.

‘Punching Down’ is your first new music in 25 years and it’s a big song to come back with – power pop but with a garage-rock edge…

I’m delighted to hear you say there’s a garage influence. I listen to a lot of different music, but I love garage bands, whether they’re from Detroit or Sweden, or other places. The Nomads, from Sweden, who were around in the ‘80s, had a resurgence 15 years ago, and their stuff was a real inspiration to me.

‘Punching Down’ deals with how the media narrative is controlled by a small percentage of ultra-wealthy people and the way they use it to cause divisiveness in society – it’s very topical…

Now I’m married with two kids, and I’ve got a nice life, I can’t write songs about relationship frustrations like I did before. I think there’s got to be some grit in the oyster. I don’t want to write songs about being happy and how wonderful things are.

You only have to watch a bit of the news to see how the 0.001% of people who control everything are creating a division between people who have more in common [with each other] than they do with billionaires, and it’s a dangerous business.

‘Now I’m married with two kids, and I’ve got a nice life, I can’t write songs about relationship frustrations’

I don’t want to end up sounding like I’m lecturing people, but the song is a call for unity between everyone in the country and beyond who are struggling with the same austerity, the same pressures and the same fears, but have the same hopes.

We’re being treated like puppets who are being made to dance by billionaires who just want another ivory backscratcher, or who want to take away our employment rights and our human rights. We’re all being stirred up and made to feel more divisive than we should be.

You recorded ‘Punching Down’ with Grammy-winning producer, Hugo Nicolson, who’s worked with acts including Primal Scream, Björk and Radiohead. How was that?

The thing that you notice about working with a lot of producers and engineers is that sometimes if there’s a problem in the studio, there will be quite a few hours of head scratching while they fix it. Hugo has got so much experience that he would head off a problem almost before it appeared ­– he just had a fix for it because he has that kind of experience.

‘There’s a pop sensibility to what we do. We’re not trying to be The Velvet Underground’

As the writer of the songs, I can be quite critical of what I do and what I come up with, and I think it was great that in the pre-production stage, Hugo was able to listen to the songs and say, ‘Okay – you need to get to the chorus faster…’

He got that there’s a pop sensibility to what we do. We’re not trying to be The Velvet Underground. We want something that’s going to have similar sensibilities to all the bands that we’ve loved, like The Beatles, but also The Damned and the Buzzcocks, which is still great pop music.

There’s more new music on the way from you, isn’t there?

Yes. In July, we’ll release ‘Duck and Cover.’ There’s going to be an EP and after that more recording. ‘Punching Down’ is the closest of our four new tracks to what we’ve done in the past.

When we got back together, there was a desire for people to hear the songs that they remember fondly from the past, and there’s absolutely a place for that, but, as the songwriter, I get bored if things aren’t evolving. There’s a legitimacy to playing reunion gigs after 25 years, but that loses its currency pretty quickly if you don’t start bringing out something new that’s relevant to today.

I was really pleased that the new material came together as quickly as it did. The rest of the guys in the band like it, of course, but it’s never a given. The response of people who have heard it has been so positive, so that’s been exciting. I know that the music industry has changed a lot since we’ve been away. One of the ways in which it’s got better is the studio technology. Chris hadn’t been in the studio since we did our previous recordings, and he was like a duck to water [this time around].

When he left the band back in the day, that, ultimately, led to you splitting up, didn’t it?

When he announced that he was going to leave, he stuck with us while we were honouring our commitments, so I think that emotionally he left earlier than he did physically. We tried to carry on, but there was a chemistry between the original four of us that was hard to replace, so it was difficult.

Why did you decide to get back together in 2025?

We’d all stayed in contact with each other to a degree – Matt, the other guitar player, is my brother, so we’re stuck together, and Jimmy, the bass player, lives in Oxford.

‘We tried to carry on, but there was a chemistry between the original four of us that was hard to replace, so it was difficult’

Sometime around COVID, we all went out for a drink together for the first time in ages – it was like no time had passed, and it was fun. Fast forward to last year, and when Jimmy had his birthday, his wife said, ‘What do you want?’

I’m not saying he’s the man who has everything, but he said what he really wanted was a few hours in a rehearsal room with us guys. I wonder if he’d have had the same suggestion a few years before, and whether we would have all said ‘yes.’

We’ve all had families and we’ve all been on our own journeys and in different places. My brother had a serious health issue… Fortunately, he’s okay now, but I think it made him think that one of us might not be around tomorrow, so you make the most of opportunities when they come up.

So, when Jimmy suggested it, I was pleasantly surprised that we all said ‘yes’, but the moment we were back in the rehearsal room, we had no preconceptions that it would lead to anything other than a few hours of having fun.

I knew we’d get on, but I was surprised by the speed at which everything happened. We were 90% there with the songs – it was like we’d only just put our guitars away from the previous time – so, by the end of the session, it was obvious that we were going to do it again.

It came together very naturally, because when you’ve been doing 100 gigs a year [in the ‘90s], your muscle memory tends to kick in quite quickly.

‘I didn’t want to do anything involving gigs or the public unless it was going to be good, because we have a responsibility to people – and ourselves – not to suck’

When we met up socially during COVID, Chris shared it on social media, and we were pleasantly surprised by lots of people saying, ‘Reunion!’ People remember us fondly, and, before you knew it, we were being offered gigs and festivals. Suddenly it gained a momentum of its own, but I certainly didn’t want to do anything involving gigs or the public unless it was going to be good, because we have a responsibility to people – and ourselves – not to suck. So, the music came together quite nicely, and we’ve always had a physicality to our shows. People talk about our suits and us jumping around…

It’s been nice to go back to that thing that’s so identifiable with us. I don’t think we’re a cool band (laughs), but we love what we do, and it’s always been important to look like we’re in a band, and that we look like we’re in the same band.

All the best bands look like they’re in a gang. I’m thinking of The Smiths, The Beatles, The Clash…

Exactly. I think The Smiths did it in quite a subtle way. There was a stylistic thread that went through them. The first album I ever bought was Destroyer by Kiss, so the idea of there being a visual identity…. I’m reading a book by David Hepworth about bands touring America, and he talks about how one reason why The Beatles were successful was because they were a unit – they were a gang. They might’ve taken the piss out of each other, but, if one of them wasn’t feeling 100%, the others would close ranks around him, and woe betide anyone who threw rocks at them from the outside. I’m not comparing us to The Beatles, but there’s something about the chemistry between the four of us, and people see us as being a gang or a unit, and I think they want to be a part of it.

One of our first gigs back [last year] was a festival over the summer, in the daytime, so I had the opportunity to look at the crowd in a way that I hadn’t been able to before, and it was just people who were smiling or were agog. As much as I love being in the studio, live is the true environment for us to thrive, so to play some shows has been great.

‘The thing about scissor kicks is that they have to come from a place of sincerity’

How is it doing scissor kicks these days?

We do have to warm up a bit. The thing about scissor kicks is that they have to come from a place of sincerity. We probably do less than we used to, but they come from a joie de vivre, so they’re almost irrepressible. When there’s an opportunity for a scissor kick, and you feel so inclined, it’s undeniable.

The Samurai Seven’s new single, ‘Punching Down’, is out now on digital platforms. 

The band are playing live in the UK this summer.

JUNE

25 – Vault 17, Chesham, Buckinghamshire.

26 – The Star, Guildford, Surrey.

29 – Bikefest, Cassington, Oxfordshire.

JULY

18 – Charlbury Riverside Festival, Oxfordshire (main stage).

Follow The Samurai Seven here:

https://www.facebook.com/the.samurai.seven/

https://www.instagram.com/the_samurai_seven/

‘We didn’t intend to make this album…’

The Boo Radleys: Rob Cieka, Sice Rowbottom and Tim Brown

 

It’s been five years since ’90s shoegazers-turned-indie-pop-experimentalists, The Boo Radleys, reformed without original songwriter and guitarist, Martin Carr.

Since then, singer/guitarist, Sice Rowbottom; Tim Brown (bass, keys, guitar) and Rob Cieka (drums and percussion) have made two albums: 2022’s Keep On With Falling and 2023’s Eight, and now they’re back with a third, In Spite of Everything, which is the best of the three.

It features the band’s touring guitarist, Louis Smith, giving the record more of a full-band sound, and a heavier and harder edge than the two albums that came before it. There are full-on, infectious indie-rock-meets-synth-pop bangers like ‘Living Is Easy’ and ‘Bring Them Back Again’, the spacey ballad, ‘Hey, I Know,’ and a nod to the band’s noisy, shoegaze roots with ‘Wasn’t I Enough?’, with its wall of guitar feedback. 

Some of the songs, like ‘Living Is Easy,’ and the heartbreaking and stark ‘Song For Natalie’, address grief and loss – in 2024, Tim Brown’s eldest son died – but as frontman Sice, who, in his day job, works as a chartered psychologist, explains to Say It With Garage Flowers, in an exclusive interview, the record is about hope as well as sadness.

“The songs that were very personal to Tim, I left alone, but some of my stuff was influenced by Tim’s loss as well – lyrically, we agreed that there would be a balance of sadness and hope,” he tells us. “That’s how we’ve dealt with it – there has to be something that you live for.”

Q&A

This is your third album since the band reformed, and your ninth in total. How did you approach the new record?

Sice: It was more organic than the others – when we [first] came back, we had more of an intention: ‘This song is going to be like this, and this song is going to be a bit like that…’

We didn’t intend to make this album – it was only down to the loss of Tim’s son. He fell into music as solace and I fell into it alongside him, and we started producing songs. It was then that we realised that this was a bit more shoegaze or electronic… It didn’t have the intentionality that some of our albums have had – the songs just fell out, they were complete and there wasn’t a lot of discussion about what the songs were. The songs that were very personal to Tim, I left alone, but some of my stuff was influenced by Tim’s loss as well – lyrically, we agreed that there would be a balance of sadness and hope. That’s how we’ve dealt with it – there has to be something that you live for.

There’s darkness and there’s light on the record…

The light comes with a song like ‘King Budgie’, which is about the joy of having a budgie. A friend of mine has one and it’s just about how you can have a moment to connect with those kinds of things.

‘Bring Them Back Again’ was written about two of my favourite films [Jean de Florette and its sequel Manon des Sources], so there are things that are actually worth living for, and music is a big part of that. It’s also about friendships. You can’t have love without loss.

Rob wrote the lyrics for one of the tracks, ‘Through the Crack in the Window,’ which he hadn’t done before, so were still experimenting with ways of writing – I came up with the melody and passed it on to Tim. It was fully collaborative.

Your live guitarist, Louis Smith, plays on this album, so it feels more like a full-band record…

It does. Louis has now got used to us – what we do and how we do things, and our musical tastes on the road. We talk about music all the time, so, when we send him stuff, he knows instinctively what he’s going to do. He’s done some amazing stuff.

This album reminds me more of C’mon Kids, when we stripped it back and had no extra musicians, like trumpet players, on it. We were definitely motivated towards it being a band album, and Louis’ inclusion does make it feel like that.

Where did you make the record?

We did some of it at Tim’s studio in Northern Ireland, Rob recorded the drums in Manchester, I did some stuff in my own little home studio, and Louis has a studio too. We did physically all get together in Tim’s studio to finish the record off, but we wouldn’t be able to make an album if we were all in the same room. All the time that Tim has available when he’s not working, we spend touring – we’ve all got other stuff to do.

‘We agreed that there would be a balance of sadness and hope. That’s how we’ve dealt with it – there has to be something that you live for’

The album doesn’t mess around. It starts with a big tune, ‘Affected / Rejected’, a full-on, funky rocker with Beach Boys harmonies, organ, electronics and dirty guitar. You’re not taking any prisoners…

It’s straight in… I wanted that. As we’re on our own, one of the tendencies is that we tend to be a little bit downbeat, but I wanted to write something with a riff that really kicked in – something that was a bit glam and full on.

I think this album has a harder edge to it than the two previous records. When we’ve talked in the past, you’ve said that you like sweet, clean sounds, whereas when Martin was in the band, he always wanted to make things dirtier and harder, but this time you’ve embraced that too…

Yeah. Maybe because that was Martin’s thing, with the last two records we decided to stick to more of what we were about, but this time we realised we enjoyed the harder edge and frugging out.

The first single from the album was the bouncy Solarcide, with jittery guitars and squelchy synth. It was written about the cult, The Order of the Solar Temple…

I saw a fascinating documentary about it on BBC iPlayer – it was shocking. There were groups of up to 40 people committing suicide as part of a cult – some of it was voluntary, but some of it was forced. What’s terrifying is all these things are about money, and there are people who force those decisions on others who are vulnerable. I watched the documentary and was furious about it, so the song came pouring out.

‘Hey, I Know’ is beautiful – a spacey ballad – but there’s an anger to it, lyrically. You sing: ‘You? You’re taking the piss, and, incidentally, you’re talking shite,’ and later on, ‘Blah, fucking blah!’ Is that one of your songs?

It is. Lyrically, it’s probably about my dad, as well as narcissistic personalities – those people who talk at you a lot. I meet a lot of them, and they can cause a lot of damage. The poster child is Trump that person who is talking bollocks but is so full of their own importance.

 

‘Living Is Easy’ addresses Tim’s grief. In the song’s lyrics, he reflects on all the major news events that have left their mark on him over the years and the helplessness he sometimes felt to change anything, but the last verse was written about the loss of his son…

It’s a touching song, and it goes from the global to the very personal. It’s a very reflective song, which is not really like Tim – he’s not outwardly a reflective person, but in those quiet moments, he shows his vulnerability.

Musically, it’s an infectious and shimmering, indie-rock-synth-pop banger, but, like a lot of the Boos’ songs, there’s a sadness lurking beneath the shiny pop exterior…

I’ve always liked that, but not many people do it. The Beautiful South used to – sweet pop tunes but with an edge to them. I like something that sounds sweet, but then you listen to it more closely and you think, ‘oh, that’s interesting…’

‘Bring Them Back Again’ is another banger. It reminds me of New Order, with its throbbing sequencer line and Hooky-like bass…

That was a good collaborative one. Originally, it was a lot slower and had more of a Prince ‘Kiss’ vibe, but I couldn’t get it to work, so I said to Tim, ‘OK – just go Giorgio Moroder…’ So, he went, ‘How about this?’ and sent it back, and suddenly it was like, ‘Boom! That’s good.’ My daughter, Elsie, is on backing vocals.

You wrote that song about two of your favourite films: Jean de Florette and its sequel Manon des Sources. I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t seen either of them…

Oh, wow! It’s a Sunday afternoon pleasure. Watch them back-to-back, because they’re connected. They’re beautiful films.

‘Wasn’t I Enough?’ is very noisy. It’s one of those things that people who liked us in our Everything’s Alright Forever phase will like’

Song For Natalie’ is the album’s darkest and saddest moment – it addresses Tim’s grief, and it’s a heartbreaker…

It is – it’s heartbreaking and unbelievably raw. Tim sings the line in the middle, ‘When I think of you, my heart breaks…’ I said to him, ‘You have to sing that – I can’t do it.’ He’s not hugely confident, but he did it. There’s not a lot that can be said about it other than it shows how music can make that connection to deep emotions and translate that pain without having to talk about it. It’s a tough song and it’s not one I find easy to listen to. It’s very personal.

Wasn’t I Enough?’ feels like a nod to your noisier and heavier early days, with loud guitars and feedback…

Yeah – it’s very noisy and I think it’s one of those things that people who liked us in our Everything’s Alright Forever phase will like. It’s Tim’s wife’s favourite song on the album – she loves that ‘shoegaze’ period. I started the song off – it was fairly acoustic – and I wasn’t sure where to go, so Tim did the whole noisy guitars thing.

You’re touring the UK in May this year, and there are some UK and European dates in October / November too. What can we expect?

We’re very aware that when people come and see us, they want to hear a lot of stuff from the ‘90s, so we probably won’t do anything off the last two albums, but they’ll be a fair chunk of the new album, as well as the old stuff – we’re mixing it up and our repertoire is growing.

We did shows where we played the whole of Giant Steps and we’ve done the Wake Up! and C’mon Kids tour, so we’ve got a lot to choose from. We’re chucking stuff in and chucking stuff out, but we’re going to end up with what we hope people are going to like.

In Spite of Everything is released on May 1 (Boostr Records). There is an in-store performance and signing session at Rough Trade East, London, on that day. Click here for info.

www.thebooradleys.com

https://slinky.to/InSpiteOfEverything

https://thebooradleys.bandcamp.com/album/in-spite-of-everything

For 2026 tour dates, click here.