‘I feel like this record is a part of what’s to come – it’s just the first disc of a double album that should’ve been…’

Baggy, Balearic country, pan pipes and a Renaissance instrument called the crumhorn can all be heard on the glorious new album by The Hanging Stars On A Golden Shore. “We had to trust ourselves a little bit more and we threw the rulebook out the window – sonically, there’s all kinds of shit going on!” frontman and singer-songwriter, Richard Olson, tells Say It With Garage Flowers.

The Hanging Stars’ last album, 2022’s Hollow Heart, was our favourite record of that year – London’s kings of cosmic country created a rich and immersive collection of songs that were musically uplifting, but, lyrically, often tinged with sadness.

Hollow Heart also wasn’t afraid to comment on the state of the UK  – the ‘60s-garage-rock-meets-The-Byrds of I Don’t Want To Feel So Bad Anymore was written about being completely helpless at the hands of the Tory government, while the West Coast psych-pop of You’re So Free concerned itself with anti-vaxxers and how Brexit and Trump’s presidency created social divide.

To make the album, the band and producer/musician, Sean Read (Soulsavers, Dexys) decamped to Edwyn Collins’ Clashnarrow Studios in Helmsdale, in The Highlands of Scotland, which overlooks the North Sea.

Speaking to us just before the release of the record, frontman, Richard Olson, said: “Edwyn offered us the use of his studio – it felt like being anointed – and Sean is one of the two engineers who he lets work there – the stars aligned.

“That happened during the pandemic, so we had to find a window when we were allowed to do it. It was quite a project, transporting six people to Helmsdale, with a bunch of instruments.”

This time around, for their latest album, On A Golden Shore  – their fifth, but their second for indie label, Loose Music – Olson and the band returned to Clashnarrow, albeit with new bass player, Paul Milne, who replaced original member, Sam Ferman, and, once again, Read was sat in the producer’s chair.

“It was a bit of a no-brainer, but it was still quite a venture to make it happen,” says Olson, talking to us in early 2024, over an early evening pint in a pub in Leytonstone, East London, shortly before a solo gig supporting Canadian folk singer, Bonnie Dobson, with whom he and his band are making a new record.

“Four of us went up, but Joe [Harvey-Whyte – pedal steel] stayed back and did his parts in London. Paul had to leave after three days, so we had to get the drums and bass down in that time, and then we did what overdubbing we could,” he explains.

Overdubbing and mixing were carried out at Read’s Famous Times studio in East London.

“Edwyn has got an amazing set-up – not everything works – but we wanted to use anything we possibly could,” says Olson. “That was a theme while we were there – what gadgets, synths, boxes and microphones could we find?

“When we were first introduced to Edwyn’s studio, it was quite daunting, but Hollow Heart is an incredible record – I was so pleased with it. This time, it was nice to go there and to feel that we owned what we were doing – that brought us freedom and confidence. I can see that people might feel that this record isn’t as immediate, however, it’s a genuinely confident one and it’s got a lot of facets to it.”

‘We had to trust ourselves a little bit more and we threw the rulebook out the window – sonically, there’s all kinds of shit going on!’

Like its predecessor, On A Golden Shore is another terrific record, although, as Olson says, perhaps not as immediate, but with some new influences at the fore. Anyone for some baggy, Balearic country, pan pipes or crumhorn? More on that in a moment…

Unlike Hollow Heart, which, because of lockdown, meant the band had more time to prep the songs before going into the studio, this time around saw The Hanging Stars develop the tracks during the recording sessions.

“This was much more of a studio album,” says Olson, adding: “We had to trust ourselves a little bit more – we had to trust in The Hanging Stars – and, for me, this record defines that. We threw the rulebook out the window – sonically, there’s all kinds of shit going on!”

There certainly is. First single, the sunny and optimistic, Happiness Is A Bird, is a case in point, with its breezy, Balearic vibe and delicious, Grateful Dead-like guitar solo.

“There was a bit of a joke,” says Olson. “When Tom [Bridgewater] from Loose asked us what the next album would be like, I said it was going to be a baggy, Balearic country record. He laughed and said: “Go on, do that, then’. “And, to a certain extent, it is – some songs, like Happiness Is A Bird, Golden Shore and Sweet Light vaguely have that vibe.”

He’s not wrong – the shimmering, exotic and blissed-out Golden Shore has bongos, a funky bassline, synth, and pan pipes from Will Summers of the psychedelic folk/prog rock band Circulus.

“I said, ‘This album needs pan pipes or I’m not doing it!” says Olson. “Will showed up with a suitcase of flutes, and, because of the Balearic baggy idea, I felt like we needed pan pipes – they’ve got a bad rep, but we’re not necessarily here to reclaim it.

“I’ve been listening to a lot of what I refer to as ‘spa-core’, or New Age might be another word for it – you have to sift quite harshly through that jungle, but when you get there, it’s pretty neat, man. Pan pipes sound fucking amazing and no one expects us to have them.”

Summers also features on the song Raindrop In A Hurricane, although playing something other than pan pipes: “As he’s an expert crumhorn player – it’s a Renaissance and Baroque instrument and it’s quite amazing – we thought, ‘Why not?” says Olson.

Lyrically, that song has a recurring Hanging Stars theme – escapism: getting away from everything… “That’s what we are – The Hanging Stars is an escapism and I’ll wear that badge. We’re wistful – we wish for something beyond and different, and I’m very proud of that,” says Olson.

He adds: “There are songs on this album that I’m very pleased with and that have been hanging around for a long time – something like Golden Shore has been kicking around for ages, but we had no idea it was going to turn into what it did. Happiness Is A Bird is one of those songs that turned out exactly how I had in mind – I’m very fond of it.”

‘I’ve been listening to a lot of what I refer to as ‘spa-core’, or New Age might be another word for it – you have to sift quite harshly through that jungle, but when you get there, it’s pretty neat, man’

With Sweet Light, we’re in more familiar territory – infectious and jangly sunshine guitar pop with melancholy undertones and some Tom Petty-style country rock thrown in for good measure. It has that classic Hanging Stars sound…

“We don’t want to get away from that – it’s who we are. It’s Patrick’s song, but I wrote the lyrics – I filled in the gaps for him. Patrick is an incredible songwriter – I’m sure he’s got ten billion different albums in him,” says Olson.

Wasn’t Sweet Light written just before you made the album? “That’s Patrick – he just pulled it out of his pocket. We were like, ‘It’s so bloody good, we’re going to have to do it now,” he says.

Opening song, the arresting Let Me Dream of You also does that neat trick of mixing some ‘70s country-rock swagger – think The Stones circa Exile On Main St. – with a whole heap of sadness: “It sets the tone of the record quite well in terms of heartbreaky bravado,” says Olson.

“I said, ‘This album needs pan pipes or I’m not doing it!’ They’ve got a bad rep, but we’re not necessarily here to reclaim it’

It has a loose groove, a ragged charm, some great ‘ooh-la-la’ harmony backing vocals and a mighty guitar solo from Patrick Ralla.

So, does Olson think it has a Stonesy feel? “I guess so – we did go for a bit of the Exile On Main St., Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed vibe: it was just a fun song to do.

“With the lyrics, I had some good lines and it was the first song I’ve ever written where I had the melody in my head before. It just came to me, and I was like ‘fucking hell!’ So, I recorded it and thought, ‘This has got legs…'”

The country lament, Disbelieving – one of the best songs on the record – is so gorgeous you could imagine Gram Parsons singing it, and it’s followed by a companion piece called Washing Line, which is another sad ballad with pedal steel: “Hang me out to dry on your washing line.”

And while we’re on the subject of hanging, Olson says: “Disbelieving has been hanging around for quite a while… I constantly have songs on the go and it’s lifeblood for me – if I don’t have that, I don’t feel very fulfilled.”

Lyrically, there’s still a sadness to many of the songs on the new album, but it doesn’t feel as dark a record as Hollow Heart. Olson agrees, saying: “I think it’s more hopeful – there’s Happiness Is A Bird…. The sadness that runs through the record is to do with age. The older you get, the more tragedies you see. That’s just how the wheel turns…

“I’ve also been encouraged by people who I trust in my life to try and come up with more stories and write from a third person perspective. When I write lyrics, there also needs to be a sense of humour in everything – not ha-ha-ha, but something I can have fun with.”

Silver Rings has a touch of ‘70s funk in its piano intro, Raindrop In A Hurricane tips its corduroy cap to ‘60s folk like Bert Jansch and was also inspired by singer-songwriter, Bill Ryder-Jones, I Need A Good Day owes a large debt to vintage Teenage Fanclub, and the jaunty No Way Spell brings out the banjo.

I Need A Good Day is very Scottish – let’s be honest, we’ve kind of ripped off Teenage Fanclub, but, I will say, it was completely unknowingly and innocently, until the song was done. But, yes, in retrospect, sorry Gerry Love and Norman Blake, it sounds just like your band,” says Olson.

‘I constantly have songs on the go and it’s lifeblood for me – if I don’t have that, I don’t feel very fulfilled’

Final song, Heart In A Box, which mentions the Sistine Chapel dome in its lyrics, is the perfect way to end the album, starting slow and sparse, with mournful brass, and then building up to a big, cosmic crescendo with horns, angelic harmonies and groovy bass.

“It’s a London song,” says Olson.  “I wasn’t sure about that line with the Sistine dome,” he adds.  The horn arrangements are by Sean Read: “That’s when the song really came together. It wasn’t going to be the last song on the record, but it was Joe who said, ‘That is an ender.’ And I was like, ‘Really? I feel like it’s number seven.”

It’s a great way to finish the record… “Thank you – I really appreciate that.”

Q&A

On A Golden Shore is The Hanging Stars’ fifth album in eight years… 

Richard Olson: I know  – I can’t believe it.

How does that feel?

RO: It’s always such a quest for the new, so it’s very hard to look back, but, saying that, I’m really pleased and proud that we’ve got such a big back catalogue.

Some bands don’t manage five albums in their whole career… You’re prolific…

RO: Thank you.  I’ve been lucky enough to have been surrounded by such a bunch of incredible people and musicians during the lifetime of this band.

I don’t think the music community in London has ever been so strong. People always complain about it, but I’ll celebrate it – the amount of people who put stuff on, perform or pay to go to shows. People truly look after each other – the grass roots are stronger than ever.

I can’t stress enough how much of a band effort this record is – Paulie [Cobra – drummer] has had a huge input on this record. He’s always been a great harmony singer and arranger, but he’s really come out of his shell with this one – he’s been phenomenal. And Patrick and Sean, of course – it’s a team effort, man. Working with Sean is like working with family – he’s so close to us, he’s like a sixth member.

Richard Olson

‘The sadness that runs through the record is to do with age. The older you get, the more tragedies you see. That’s just how the wheel turns…’

The new record is your first with a new line-up – Paul Milne has joined on bass, taking over from Sam Ferman…

RO: Having Sam leave was hard – he was such a part of the unit that me, Paulie and him had when we went to Los Angeles and did Over The Silvery Lake. It was tough, but I knew it was on the cards and the thing about this band is that the friendship part of it is huge – Sam is our friend and we want our friend to be happy. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still part of The Hanging Stars, and we’re lucky to have people like Paul Milne – we met him through the scene and he’d filled in a few times before when we did a tour with Wolf People a long time ago. He’s an incredible player, he’s very knowledgeable and he knows his shit – he’s just an utter joy to have around and, it’s the old cliché, but he has given us a little bit of a kick up the arse to iron out the finer creases.

So, how was it making the record?

RO: It was great – we found a window where we go up to Helmsdale again, with Sean Read at the helm…

That collaboration worked so well last time, so it was an easy decision to make?

RO: With Edywn and Grace [Maxwell – Collins’ wife and manager] holding their hands over us,  we were like, ‘how can we not?  It was so focused because we only had x amount of time – I think we were there for a week. Whereas last time, we went up a mountain and did mushrooms, this time around there wasn’t any kind of those shenanigans – we didn’t have time. I feel like this record is a part of what’s to come – it’s just the first disc of a double album that should’ve been…

So, you’ve got a lot more new songs written?

RO: Yeah – I’ve got pretty much the basis for a new album. I’ve been trying to define this record for myself – I’ve made a record, but I have to let it go and say it’s done. If I listen to it, I could go mad with the shit I want to change, but what am I going to do? It’s one of the hardest things and I think there are a lot of masterpieces lying out there on shelves because people can’t say, ‘This is done’.

Do you listen to your records after you’ve made them?

RO: Very rarely,  but it happens from time to time – you also have to listen to them to remember stuff… I’ve got like 60 songs I need to remember.

Just before you went to make the new record, you won the Bob Harris Emerging Artist Award at the 2023 Americana Music Association UK Awards. How was that?

RO: It was great – I didn’t really know what to expect. I’m still kind of new to the whole scene, but it was a huge honour for us, as we’re talking about a guy [Bob Harris], who happily sat there and whispered in the ears of Tom Petty, John Lennon and Keith Richards – that’s pretty high praise, if you ask me. It was great to be on top of the world for two minutes, then you get on the bike again, but it was encouraging.

‘Last time, we went up a mountain and did mushrooms, but this time around there wasn’t any kind of those shenanigans’

Robert Plant and Mike Scott (The Waterboys) were both at the awards ceremony. Did you get to meet them?

RO: We’ve heard it through the grapevine that Robert Plant enjoyed us very much, but we didn’t meet him. I saw Mike Scott backstage with his daughter – he looked a lot more like Keith Richards than I remembered.

On A Golden Shore is released on March 8 (Loose Music). 

http://www.loosemusic.com/

The Hanging Stars are on tour from March 19 – dates are here:

‘I had a few lost years – a lot of my career is trying to make up for that. That’s why I keep on hunting’

Richard Olson

 

For his debut solo album, Richard Olson & The Familiars, the frontman of London’s cosmic country kings, The Hanging Stars, and former member of The See See and The Eighteenth Day of May, has let his freak flag fly, with stunning results.

It’s a wonderfully eclectic and inventive record, opening with the spacey, Primal Scream-style psychedelic dub of I Can’t Help Myself, before movin’ on up to the irresistible and breezy, orch-pop of Fall Into My Hands, taking a detour into the English countryside for the gorgeous ‘60s and ‘70s pastoral folk of Down Looking Up, heading to a Swedish forest for the Lee Hazlewood twilight croon of A Thousand Violins and then moving into krautrock territory for the hypnotic Little Heart.

Elsewhere there’s a Spacemen 3-inspired cover version of Air by Brit-folk-psych outfit The Incredible String Band, a homage to the garage-rock of early Brian Jonestown Massacre records (I’m A Butterfly), a Velvet Underground-esque spoken word piece (Rain) and the haunting, psychedelic folk lullaby Inside Sunshine.

“I had a bunch of songs and I didn’t know what I wanted to do with them, so I was like it, ‘Fuck it – I’m just going to make a record!’ the Swedish-born singer-songwriter tells Say It With Garage Flowers. “The rules were completely thrown out of the window that was fun.”

Q&A

How did the idea for the solo album come about?

Richard Olson: Firstly, I had a bunch of songs that didn’t fit with any of the projects I was doing and, secondly, it was very much a product of the pandemic.

For me personally, it was a huge step to test my confidence because I’ve always been surrounded by incredible musicians: Pat Ralla, Pete Greenwood, Paulie Cobra, Sam Ferman, Joe Harvey-Whyte… I was like, ‘fucking hell – can I do it?’

I’m a drummer – that’s my first instrument. When I was about eight, I asked my mum, ‘Can I please learn to play the drums?’ I pissed myself in the first lesson because I was so scared and I couldn’t ask the drum teacher where the toilet was. You’re welcome to write that.

One of the really key things about playing these songs that I didn’t feel fitted in anywhere was that I kind of got to know the bass guitar a little bit and realised that it is the king of all instruments.

Is that why you open the record with I Can’t Help Myself, which has a killer dub bassline on it?

RO: I came up with that bassline and I was like ‘fucking hell!’ Everything sits so well around it.

Are most of the songs on the album new?

RO: Most of them. It all started with A Thousand Violins

Which you wrote in a forest in Sweden…

RO: Yeah – I was on a little hill, overlooking a lake, and I had two chords that I was very pleased with. I had this idea that if I was ever going to do something on my own, I wanted to do some of it in a crooner vibe. I’m not getting any younger and I can get away with crooning – we all hope for Las Vegas eventually, right?

Were you channelling Lee Hazlewood and Richard Hawley?

RO: Yeah – and Serge Gainsbourg. I really wanted to sing A Thousand Violins in Swedish.

‘I got to know the bass guitar a little bit and realised that it is the king of all instruments’

You were born in Sweden, weren’t you?

RO: Yeah – I came here [the UK] when I was 21/22. I’m from the very south of Sweden – it’s a plain, which is very near Denmark. The forest line hasn’t quite started yet – it’s four hours away, and Stockholm is eight.

Malmö is Sweden’s third largest cityit has a little sister city, which is very full of itself, called Lund, which is where I grew up. It’s famous for its university and its 1000-year-old cathedral. It was a great place to grow up.

My mum was a single mum – she was a nurse. I grew up in a big, grey tower block with a lovely park. It was her just her and I – I got to know my father a little bit later in life. He was in a band with Björn from ABBA in the ‘60s – they were very famous in Sweden. I haven’t got a bad word to say about him – he was a great guy to drink a gin and tonic with.

My mum died when I was 19/20 – that was quite central to a lot of my career. It shook my whole world and I had a lot of ‘pillows’ that eased my pain – there were some good people around me. I had a few lost years and, speaking to you now, I feel that a lot of my career is trying to make up for that. That’s why I keep on hunting.

‘I wanted to do some of the album in a crooner vibe – we all hope for Las Vegas eventually, right?’

On A Thousand Violins you sing about losing your way. Is that a reference to that time in your life?

RO: So much of it is – you never get over a thing like that, but you learn to live with it. At the same time, you don’t want the pain to go away…

I can remember asking my mother on her deathbed: ‘What am I going to do?’ She said: ‘There will be a scar but you’ll learn to live with it and you’ll never want to get rid of it.’

My mother’s death taught me so much – once I got out the other side. That’s why I’m so driven and on it.

Have you been wanting to make a solo record for a long time?

RO: No. I had a bunch of songs and I didn’t know what I wanted to do with them – it wasn’t how I wanted The Hanging Stars or The See See to be. I was like it, ‘Fuck it – I’m just going to make a record.’

‘I’m trying to make a £2,000 record sound like a £200,000 one’

So, you went into the studio with Sean Read, who produced the last Hanging Stars album…

RO: We go way back – he’s such a brilliant guy and he’s become better and better at what he does. He was the perfect guy to speak to when I was challenging my confidence and myself.

I like his brass and piano on the record, and there are some great string arrangements by Herman Ringer of the Buenos Aires Symphony Orchestra too…

RO: Herman got in touch with The Hanging Stars and said ‘If you ever need anything…’ He was mind-blowing – he did three-part string arrangements at home that sound absolutely massive.

It’s incredible and it added to the wildness of the whole idea – I’m trying to make a £2,000 record sound like a £200,000 one. That’s a good quote!

Fall Into My Hands has some great strings on it and is a breezy pop song…

RO: Yeah – exactly. It was one of those songs that wrote itself – as a lot of people tend to say.

You pulled in a few friends to help you make the album, like Pat Ralla, Paulie Cobra and Joe Harvey-Whyte from The Hanging Stars, Jack Sharp (Large Plants), Dan Davies (Wolf People), Jem Doulton (Thurston Moore), Cecilia Fage (Cobalt Chapel)…

RO: And Duncan Menzies, who is an incredible fiddle player, and Ben Phillipson, from The Eighteenth Day of May – he’s a key person in my musical development.

I know you’re really into ‘60s and ‘70s British folk music. Down Looking Up, which is a lovely song, has that feel…

RO: Thank you – I did a demo of that for the third Hanging Stars album but it never quite sat the way I wanted it to. We reworked it with Sean on piano.

It reminds me of Nick Drake’s Bryter Later

RO: Yeah, yeah. It’s got that vibe. It’s a funny song as well. I think I wrote the lyrics when I was touring and playing with Joel Gion’s band – the old Brian Jonestown guard. There were quite a lot of late nights and long drives. It’s a tale of drunkenness and cruelty.

Little Heart is the lead track on the EP that’s coming out ahead of the album. Why did you choose that song?

RO: Fall Into My Hands  was the obvious pop choice – during recording it was known as ‘the Lenny Kravitz song’ – but I wanted to make it clear that this is a different record. It’s a more challenging album than that song.

Little Heart was inspired by something your son said, wasn’t it?

RO: Yeah – kids say some really magical shit. He kept saying ‘Little heart’ and I thought it was a such a beautiful thing.

It’s a one-chord song, isn’t it?

RO: Pretty much.

And it sounds a bit krautrock…

RO: I asked Jem, the drummer, to keep the Klaus Dinger [Neu!] beat down and built on top of that. That’s what’s so fun – there are a thousand pop songs in a chord.

Has your son heard the song?

RO: Yeah – he got bored pretty quickly.

You’ve covered Air by The Incredible String Band on the album and on the EP. The version on the album is quite Spacemen 3-like, but the one on the EP is a country take on it…

RO: I didn’t know how to get the song across – I got absolutely obsessed with their version of it. I’m a huge Incredible String Band fan – I know they can seem a bit twee, but once you scratch the surface there’s some incredible songwriting.

That song is so evocative and the essence of how good they are. I’m not sure I did it any justice but I did send it to Mike Heron [from The Incredible String Band]. After a couple of months, someone got in touch and said he absolutely loved it. That was really nice.

‘I’m a huge Incredible String Band fan – I know they can seem a bit twee, but once you scratch the surface there’s some incredible songwriting’

The album track I’m A Butterfly sounds to me like it could’ve been a Hanging Stars song. It’s a bit country-garage rock…

RO: It’s more garage rock and maybe it could’ve been on one of the last See See records. That was the one that I was most worried about fitting in if I’m honest, but then we put a weird recorder on it that goes all the way through it. It’s a bit of a homage to the Brian Jonestown Massacre – they have that weird recorder vibe on a few of their early records.

Christof Certik [from the Brian Jonestown Massacre] actually does a spoken word part on it…

RO: That was really funny – I kept on saying to him: ‘Can you send me a voice message of you saying ‘I’ve seen the light in all its might and it is something to behold?’ He kept saying, ‘I don’t know how to say it’, so I said to him, ‘OK – you’re an 18-year-old surfer and your mum has just told you off for not doing the dishes,’ or ‘You’re a Hollywood cowboy…’ In the end, I said, ‘You’re a wannabe beatnik in 1959, but you’ve got it a bit wrong’. That was the one we ended up with.

Is that song autobiographical? In the lyric you sing about going to school, bumming around and getting a job…

RO: Without sounding too pretentious or dramatic, it’s about being who we all are – us and the people who go to our shows. We’re butterflies – we’re colourful, we look silly but, ultimately, we look beautiful. That’s what I think – that’s why those people are my people. But people don’t always see it that way. It’s slightly putting the boot in at all the people who tell you’re a prick and that you should grow up. Hence, ‘I’ve seen the light in all its might and it is something to behold.’

Your wife, Lucy Evans, does the spoken word part on Rain, which you recorded at home during the lockdown summer of 2020…

RO: The rain is real – it might’ve been when Walthamstow got flooded. The beat is off an iPhone app with all these classic drum machines on it – most of the vocals and the guitars were done at home, but then Sean mixed it. In some ways I wish I’d done it all at Sean’s to make it more ‘hi-fi’, but, you know, it’s all part of the journey.

‘With this record the rules were completely thrown out of the window – that was fun’

Paulie Cobra sings the harmonies on it…

RO: He did an incredible job – when he sent it back to me, I was like, ‘What the fuck?’

He sounds like Dennis Wilson…

RO: I know – that’s exactly what it is. He completely created it.

Was the song inspired by Spiritualized?

RO: You’re the second person to say that. I was trying to go for more of a Velvet Underground thing.

Ben Phillipson from The Eighteenth Day of May plays guitar on the last song, Inside Sunshine

RO: Yeah – he does. That song is very dear to my heart because I feel like it is a bit Eighteenth Day of May – it’s very much what him and I conjure up with that band. I’m so pleased with that song – it’s got all the elements.

The Hanging Stars

Do you think this record will surprise people?

RO: To be honest, The Hanging Stars is my main thing, but it’s not the ‘60s, ‘70s’, ‘80s or ‘90s anymore, and you can’t just say, ‘We’ve really got into Kraftwerk and we’re going to make a Kraftwerk-country record…’

We have to play within our field, but with this record the rules were completely thrown out of the window, which was quite freeing – that was fun. I would’ve spent a lot more time and money on it if I had it, but it came together the way it did because there was no money and there was no time.

I also have to celebrate the community – it’s so easy to slag London and scenes off, but we’re all very lucky. I’m surrounded by some brilliant musicians – London is full of them – and, in our little corner, it means something to us.

I wish I could’ve celebrated it more and got a lot of my friends from America on it, but it was just after the pandemic and people weren’t travelling.

Are you pleased with the album?

RO: I am, but I won’t know how I feel until I get the vinyl in my hand. I’m still learning how to walk and I feel rather self-conscious promoting my own name, as much as I am. At the same time, it’s just a work of art – something that I’ve conjured up. I’m trying to project an emotion and a dream onto you. When I get over myself, that’s all it is, and I feel like I’ve done quite a decent job.

This record came to me a lot more naturally than I expected it to. I’m not trying to be anything – well, I’m trying to be funny from time to time with some of the lyrics – but it’s quite an unassuming record and I’m kind of happy with that. And do you know what? They’ll probably be another one.

What would you say to people who aren’t, er, familiar with your or your music?

RO: I would say there’s a little something for everyone. There’s Air for the ‘Heads, and you’ve got Fall Into My Hands if you like Lenny Kravitz.

Richard Olson & The Familiars, the debut solo album by Richard Olson, is released on vinyl on April 7. It’s available to preorder here (Cardinal Fuzz).

The digital version will be out on March 31, preceded by the Little Heart EP on March 24.

Richard Olson & The Familiars are playing a one-off show at The Waiting Room, London on April 27. Tickets are available here.