The Ordinary Boys are named after a The Smiths song. But which of your band’s tracks did Morrissey include on his ‘Songs to Save Your Life’ CD that he curated for NME in 2004?

“‘(Little) Bubble’.”

CORRECT.

“I think we were only on there because we were stroking his ego by calling ourselves The Ordinary Boys!”

“Alain Whyte [former Morrissey guitarist and songwriting partner]’s band are doing some gigs in California, where I’ve been living for the last three years, and I’ve been asked to sing for it – and be the Left-Wing Morrissey! Which is what I like to think of myself as these days anyway. Hopefully, I can fit it around my other commitments. Though I’m so disgusted by Morrissey’s politics, the music is deeply rooted in me and part of my life and musical journey – and I’m still proud of the tours we did with him. I’ve got a copy of ‘You Are the Quarry’ signed by everyone in the band, including Morrissey. ‘Vauxhall And I’ is a perfect record – and in competition for my favourite album of all-time.”

Moz cherrypicked The Ordinary Boys to play when he oversaw Meltdown Festival in 2004.

“We first played Later… With Jools Holland in 2004 with Morrisey and I was terrified. I went up to him and said, ‘Hello Morrissey, I’m Preston’. He replied: [adopts Moz’s withering tone] ‘Yes, I know who you are’. That was perfect! But he was very kind when we played with him.  I never saw him to do any of these diva-ish things he’s sometimes accused of.”

“I feel Morrissey was a surrogate father figure in the way that he [his music] taught me about the world, and I don’t believe that I was misrepresenting his lyrics. I think he just soured. John Lydon too. As someone who’s spent his life loving punk, it’s unimaginable to see them go down that pipeline.”

An easy one: which frontman did you interview for a 2004 ‘Heroes’ issue of NME, where bands met their idols?

“We asked for Morrisey, but at the last minute, Franz Ferdinand decided they wanted him. So we had Paul Weller.”

CORRECT.

“Who was also great. He made me an amazing mixtape that opened my mind to Northern Soul. On our second album, ‘Brassbound’, we were trying to make music for an audience that had appeared based on that NME front cover. It was a difficult record for us to make and a strange one. We had started as a hardcore band, and then our first album ‘Over the Counter Culture’ was written in a week as ‘Let’s try a Britpop thing’. Although I’m still proud of ‘Brassbound’, it was coloured by us trying to make a record for a fanbase that we didn’t understand yet.”

Name either of the two characters you played, as a child, in the 1992 series Jim Henson’s Mother Goose Stories.

“I was the son of the King who bumped his head in one of them, and was I The Knave of Hearts?”

CORRECT. The show featured puppets mixed with child actors telling the stories behind nursery rhymes. You portrayed The Knave of Hearts in ‘The Queen of Hearts’ and ‘Prince Freddy’ in ‘It’s Raining, It’s Pouring’.

“We filmed all around Europe and with the money I earned from it, I bought my first electric guitar aged six. Without that, I would have never got into this mess! [Laughs] As a kid, I wanted to be a puppeteer and would make my own silicone puppets and moulds. I auditioned for other Jim Henson projects. I almost got Muppets Treasure Island, and I also auditioned for The Witches as the main kid – and got close to getting it.”

In the 2007 film Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, ‘Boys Will Be Boys’ is heard in the common room of which of the four houses of Hogwarts?

“I have no idea. My six-year-old nephew would be very upset with me for getting this wrong! Slytherin?”

WRONG. Gryffindor.

“I’ve never seen the film. When they came out, I was in my real asshole rock-star mode and would say, I’m an adult and those books are for children, so I won’t engage. Lots of things I said during that era, I wouldn’t stand by, but that I probably would! [Laughs]”

What horror creature did Cher dress as when she performed ‘Dressed to Kill’, her cover of your 2009 solo single, on her 2014 tour of the same name?

“A vampire?”

CORRECT. Similar to your vampire-themed 2009 promo video.

“Every now and then, I think I should have released the solo album but I don’t know what was going on then. I keep threatening to throw the whole unreleased record up on SoundCloud and I might do it soon.”

One of its tracks, ‘Heart Skips a Beat’, ended up as a UK chart-topper for Olly Murs in 2011.

“A few of those songs got placed in the end and it led me to the journey of songwriting which has been the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You’ve written for the likes of Kylie and Jessie Ware. Any tracks you’re proudest of?

“There’s a song I did called ‘Pookie’ by the K-pop band FIFTY FIFTY which I think is really good, and another I think is great is ‘Is It Really Me You’re Missing?’ by Nina Nesbitt, which Rihanna was going to sing at one point.”

You also co-wrote the late Liam Payne’s 2019 cut ‘Live Forever’.

“The wild story about that is I’d had an accident [in 2017] where, because I was drunk and took too many Ambiens, I fell off a fourth floor balcony and nearly died. I broke every bone in my body. I wrote a song about it, ‘Live Forever’, at a songwriting camp a year after the accident. Liam heard it and ended up cutting it. The whole song is about me falling off this balcony and nearly dying. Then obviously what happened to him happened…”

In 2024, Payne died at the age of 31 after falling from a third-floor balcony at a hotel…

“It was an absolute gut-punch – a horrible thing that happened. I would go round to his flat and we would write songs and all the lyrics would be about how difficult he was finding everything. Sometimes being a songwriter is like a therapy session.”

When you appeared on Celebrity Big Brother in 2006, in a task involving the 11 housemates ranking themselves in order of fame, what number did you place yourself as?

“I reckon I would have put myself quite low. 11? Or ten?”

CORRECT. Tenth. Maggot from Welsh rappers Goldie Lookin Chain was 11th.

“With Big Brother, I genuinely believed that I could get inside the machine and control it from the inside. I didn’t realise how vapid and ridiculous the world of celebrity is, so I think maybe indie and the mainstream are never meant to combine. Maybe they are milk and orange juice – and that’s a good thing. Part of me being a songwriter for the past nearly-20-years was to prove that I could be a successful musician without having to be a ‘celebrity’ or even put my name to a project.”

Can you name the audience member “lookalike” who replaced you when you famously walked off an episode of Never Mind the Buzzcocks in 2007?

“No idea.”

WRONG. Ed Seymor was brought out of the audience after host Simon Amstell sneeringly read extracts from your then-spouse Chantelle Houghton’s memoir Living the Dream.

“I was always confused about why everyone was angry with me sticking up for my wife, who was in the audience, to this posh guy. It was classist punching-down. If it happened now, people would be horrified, so I stand by it.”

“It was a turbulent time. The chaos and cruelty of the media at that time affected me. My phone was being hacked which made me suspicious of everyone. The papers would print, say, a picture of me and say: ‘Here’s Preston looking fat today’. It was just sniping and sadly, enough people have killed themselves because of it since then that people are starting to think that maybe it isn’t nice to hurl abuse at people in the papers and across the internet. I still feel we’ve got a long way to go – it feels very medieval out there.”

You’ve written songs for K-pop titans TOMORROW X TOGETHER, including ‘Higher Than Heaven’. Name all five of their band members.

“Nope! [Laughs] I could with some of the K-pop bands, but TXT, I only know them as a unit. I do like them and I really like the stuff I’ve done with them.”

WRONG. Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun, Hueningkai.

“I’m ADHD, so writing K-pop songs suits me because it moves from one section to the other very quickly.”

What was the name of your “voodoo deity” from your 2007 Channel 4 documentary The Beginner’s Guide to Voodoo?  

“Fuck! I wish I could remember that. When I’m with people who don’t know me as Preston from The Ordinary Boys, one of my favourite things to say is I’m ordained as a voodoo priest! [Laughs] At that time, I would suddenly find myself doing things like this, not remembering to having agreed to them.”

WRONG. Your own voodoo deity was called Mamicica, who liked flowers, biscuits, perfume and tobacco.

“I wouldn’t have remembered that in a million years!”

In which sitcom does Matt Berry’s character look at a CD of yours and boggle: ‘The Ordinary Boys? Where do they get these crazy names?!’’

“The IT Crowd.”

CORRECT. The scene, involving Berry’s character Douglas Reynholm, appears in the series 2 episode ‘Smoke and Mirrors’.

“I met Matt Berry in what used to be the Ace Hotel London Shoreditch, and he was surprised at my knowledge of British comedy! Gavin & Stacey also referenced us, which was funny.”

Now, after a ten year hiatus, The Ordinary Boys are back with a new single ‘Peer Pressure’.

“It was purposefully like: ‘Let’s write an Ordinary Boys song in 2026 and see what it would sound like’. It’s heading towards an album, which we’ve already recorded half of. Lyrically, I’m curious how far I can push it in imagining what The Ordinary Boys’ ‘Over the Counter Culture’ would sound like in 2026. We were a political band with social commentary.  Now we have the manosphere, the alt-right pipeline, billionaires. AI – the world is a much richer place with things to be pissed off about. For humanity, that’s bad news, but for The Ordinary Boys, it’s good because it means we can write lots of songs!”

Bonus question! For an extra half-point: Mr Blobby features in the video to The Ordinary Boys/Olly Murs festive 2025 single ‘Christmas Starts Tonight’. How many weeks did Mr Blobby’s self-titled 1993 novelty single spend at Number One in the UK charts?

“He was the Italian brain rot of the ‘90s, so five?”

WRONG. Three.

“Next time he releases a single, he has to do better! The guy inside the Blobby suit is a big Ordinary Boys fan and brought his Blobby-guitar and we jammed afterwards. They say never meet your heroes, but in that instance, it worked out perfectly!”

The verdict: 6/10

“If that was a Rotten Tomatoes score, I don’t think I would go and see the movie!”

The Ordinary Boys’ new single ‘Peer Pressure’ is out now. For full band tour dates, see here.

The post The Ordinary Boys’ Preston: “I’m ordained as a voodoo priest!” appeared first on NME.

We meet Kneecap backstage at Kingston’s Circuit ahead of an intimate album launch show on St George’s Day (no reader, they do not celebrate). It’s been about a year and half since we last spoke. “A pretty uneventful few months I must say,” jokes Mo Chara, given the lifetime of headlines and controversy the Belfast rap trio have packed into that time, and the hours he spent in front of a judge for a now thrown-out terrorism charge at the hands of the UK government.

They fought the case with everything they had, and now again with their bold and ballsy new album ‘Fenian‘ – the term itself an act of defiance. “It originally came from Irish folklore,” Móglaí Bap offers. “It was a band of warriors in old Irish stories that date back 1,500 years. Then it was repurposed for several rebellions during the 18th and 19th Century, then in modern times it was used as a derogatory slur for Irish nationalists. When you call someone a ‘fenian’, you’re suggesting that they’re backwards or uncivilised. In the North or when Irish people came to London, they’d say ‘You Fenian…’.”

We assure Kneecap that swearing is acceptable on NME.

“C**t,” calmly offers the balaclava-clad DJ Próvaí. Fair enough. Now reclaiming ‘Fenian’ as a synonym for “the warrior”, Kneecap are once again showing that the most feared weapon in their arsenal is “the power of language,” as Móglaí Bap tells us, flipping how “certain language is used when you have a coloniser country and an oppressed people”.

Fresh from the hype around their stellar debut album ‘Fine Art‘ and acclaimed BAFTA-winning self-titled biopic, the band told us that they were making good progress with their sophomore record back in summer 2024, but it seems life had other plans. Their standard pro-Gaza rhetoric lead by the messaging of “Fuck Israel, Free Palestine” caught the attention of the wider world – and Sharon Osbourne – when they played Coachella 2025, causing one hell of a shit-storm and chain reaction that would lead to the terror charge from a past London gig and for the three trouble-starters to become a divisive talking point.

A whole album was scrapped, and they decamped to Streatham in London to spend two months on fresh material with “eccentric scientist” Dan Carey (Fontaines D.C., Wet Leg, Foals) to bring out “a musical complexity” to match the drama that was playing out in the headlines and the scale of attention the band were getting.

“Obviously we had the court case during all this and the Wembley Arena concert during the seven weeks we were in the studio,” recalls Móglaí Bap. “Dan was at the gig and trying to find sounds that would fill those rooms”.

“It hit that next level up as a more mature-sounding album, but still authentic to Kneecap,” Mo Chara continued. “Most artists when making an album maybe have most of it written or are able to go to the studio and lock themselves away for a few months, whereas we were getting dragged on the news to the magistrates court and had Wembley, which was a huge deal at the time. These things that should have been a hindrance on paper, it was more of an inspiration on the album.”

Watch our full interview with the band at the top of the page, or read on below as Kneecap open up about their battle with the government, the real issue of anti-Semitism, balancing their personal with the political on their best album yet, and who might play their pal Keir Starmer in the sequel to their movie.

NME: Hello Kneecap. The crosshairs really zoomed in on you after Coachella. How would you describe how things were going for you guys before and after that?

Mo Chara: “Things were obviously going very well. Things went well after Coachella as well. We never did anything different at Coachella – it’s the same gig we did all year. Obviously, we were in America, and there were thousands of young Americans shouting ‘Free Palestine’. The mainstream media in America have tried to hide away the Palestinian movement. There was no disguising the fact that there were young Americans in solidarity with Palestine, and that was something that the mainstream media could not handle.”

DJ Próvaí: “The people who were outside the court were the same people supporting Palestine Action. They saw censorship happening and abuses of power and went, ‘Right, if this is allowed to carry on, then who’s next?’ Not challenging those abuses of power would be a dereliction of their actions. As soon as you try to put a blockade on art and people expressing themselves, then it’s a slippery slope into fascism.”

Do you feel like the dialogue has moved on much? We just had The Strokes use their Coachella headline set to make a statement against the US government and the destruction of the last university in Gaza, and 1,000+ artists pushing to boycott Eurovision over Israel is no small thing…

Móglaí Bap: “The limitations of what bands think they can do has definitely shifted. Even at Coachella, there were other bands who spoke out for Palestine as well, but they weren’t in the news. There has been a shift because there’s more solidarity between the bands. It feels safer to put yourself out there. Before this, it was quite isolating if you spoke out for Palestine. That’s the whole reason for that: to make you feel more insecure in your job.”

As for the court case and the events that led to it: if there’s a potential would-be Kneecap fan out there who wants to be part of this but has a big question mark looming over what happened with the flag and the accusations, is there anything you’d like to say to put it in context?

Mo Chara: “We’ve spoken about this a million times and put out press statements. Let’s just say we don’t pick flags up anymore.”

And you said you don’t always know what’s going on when the lights are down?

Mo Chara: “Oh, Jesus, it’s impossible. It’s hard to even see what’s happening. A gig feels like it’s over before you know it; you fucking barely remember anything. I’m not going to get into it because we’ve talked about it already. Obviously, we won, and we expected to win. It just shows how ludicrous the whole case is. They threw millions of pounds at it, tried for an appeal and lost.

“When you take years and years of gigs and compact it into 20 seconds of a satirical band on stage… You can cut any comedian on Earth into a five-second clip, and they can look like the worst person in the world. You’ve got to put things in context. There’s never ever been an issue at a Kneecap gig, and a Kneecap member has never been convicted of any crime in any country ever, so we’ll start, surely but slowly, moving on.”

With the things you say at the gigs and the atmosphere there, combined with what’s really in the songs and the statements you put out, would you say you’re actually an anti-hate band?

Mo Chara: “Of course. We come from Belfast, we understand sectarian violence, we understand sectarianism, we understand that religious divide serves absolutely nobody. Anti-Semitism is a real issue, and it’s growing at the moment. It’s something that genuinely needs to be talked about and needs to be tackled, but what happens is when you have the Zionist lobby labelling bands and actors as anti-Semitic just because they speak out against Israel, you’re starting to water down that term. We need to be talking about that term a lot more because it’s on the rise all over the world.

“We are obviously not anti-Semitic. I think anyone with any right mind knows that. We don’t stand for any kind of hate at gigs or any kind of fascist ideologies. We’re from Belfast, we’re Irish, it’s not in our nature.”

Was it cool to be enemy of the state for a minute?

Mo Chara: “It’s [DJ Próvai’s] turn next.”

Móglaí Bap: “I think there’s a good tradition of English governments choosing Irish people as enemies, and there’s a good history there of Irish people being criminalised for crimes they never committed. So it’s pretty cool. We’re not the first Irish people to be called terrorists.”

Second albums are difficult enough as it is, but did the pressure enter your mind of all this going on and having to make a statement record that backed up your politics and the headlines?

Mo Chara: “I didn’t see it as pressure. Obviously, we do thrive in the chaos, and sometimes it’s easier to deal with things when it’s so chaotic, and you’re onto the next thing. We understood that there were a lot of eyes on this album. Second album syndrome is quite intense for a lot of bands.

“We knew if you were a Kneecap fan and had been watching what had been going on for the last year, you’d be very disappointed if there was no mention of it in the album. Of course there is, and we wouldn’t let you down.”

It’s an album that’s as political as it is personal. Let’s start with ‘An Ra’, where you thank the UK for their contributions to Irish life: “Jimmy Saville and HP Sauce, now that is a worthy cause”. That’s going to look good on a t-shirt…

Mo Chara: “We’re in enough trouble as it is.”

Móglaí Bap: “I love brown sauce, though, on sausages and stuff.”

Mo Chara: “Brown sauce and free healthcare. Other than that, that’s it. We’re keeping that.”

Mo Chara: “It was written as a piss-take about how much we’re going to miss the United Kingdom when we eventually get a United Ireland.”

Móglaí Bap: “The joke is that when colonising countries talk about ‘civilising’ other countries, like they did with Ireland or Kenya – so we’re playing with that idea that we were actually quite civilised before they got there.”

DJ Próvaí: “There’s nothing more civil than genocide.”

Mo Chara: “Jesus Christ, there’s our t-shirt. If you translate the UK into Irish, it’s ‘RA’, which looks like the ‘RA so it’s a play on words for The IRA. We’re expecting people who don’t speak Irish to become outraged, thinking it’s a song about the IRA, when we can actually explain to them that’s actually a love letter for the United Kingdom. We thought you’d like that!”

And with ‘Smugglers & Scholars’, what did you want to tell people about the real Ireland?

Mo Chara: “It’s this idea that Americans have of Ireland that it’s all poetry and clovers, and the line is that it’s actually raincoats and police Land Rovers. That’s the idea that we had of Ireland growing up in an urban setting.”

Móglaí Bap: “It’s a reply to those American movies and what their perception of Ireland is. Wild Mountain Thyme or something. The whole movie, she had dirt on her face.”

Mo Chara: “Christopher Walken is in that and doesn’t even try to do the accent. He knows how shit that film is. Irish Wish with Lindsay Lohan, did you watch that? It’s offensive.”

‘Carnival’ is banger, dealing with your trial and subsequent reaction from the government and media in a very head-on way…

Mo Chara: “The ‘carnival of distraction’ is the term that we ran with. It was unfortunate and against our will, but we became part of that. We became a cog in the wheel of that distraction. Talking about us in that court case did highlight Gaza slightly, but that time spent talking about us could have been spent doing actual journalism and talking about the actual genocide in Gaza.”

Why do you think politicians are so obsessed with artists saying things rather than the origins of what they’ve said?

Mo Chara: “It’s the same thing as why is it more controversial when a band goes on stage compared to a genocidal regime where the prime minister of that country has an arrest warrant against them? We’re not the only people calling it a genocide, the ICJ are. It’s always, ‘Do you condemn Hamas?’ They’re never asking politicians if they condemn the IDF.”

DJ Próvaí: “They’re always looking for their column inches as well and trying to latch on to anything in the news.”

Móglaí Bap: “It’s that need for sensationalism. Keir Starmer giving an interview about us playing Glastonbury to The Sun? Why would he do that? That’s weird. He gets to pretend to be outraged about something that doesn’t really have an impact or any repercussions for him, but it makes him look good. We have this dysfunctional symbiotic relationship with politicians.”

You went the mile on this album to write the song ‘Palestine’. How did you tackle the essence of capturing something so profound into a song?

Móglaí Bap: “Obviously, with everything going on, politics was going to be quite important for the album, and we thought it was quite important to have a representation from Palestine on there. We’d heard of Fawzi from Ramallah, and we connected with him. It was something we wanted to develop, to build on that connection between Belfast and Palestine.

“It’s been that way in Ireland for a long time: this international solidarity. Because we’re musicians and artists, this is a way for us to build that bridge. There’s no better people to speak about Palestine than Palestinians.”

One of the most personal songs on the album is ‘Irish Goodbye’, which is about Móglaí Bap’s mother’s depression, taking her own life, and the courage she gave you. What did it mean to you to put that into song, and what did you get out of it?

Móglaí Bap: “When someone passes away, someone close to you, it takes a long time to remember them with nice memories if they’re going through hard times. It’s been five or six years. I didn’t have a plan to make a tune about it, but somebody sent me a documentary with my ma’ in it and us as children. It was the first time I’d seen us happy in a video, and that had a profound effect on me. It helped me remember the happy times, so this song was reflecting on those. All the happy times are the boring, mundane stuff where you miss somebody, never the big moments. It’s always just walking around a park and the small things that become really big.

“It was really nice for me to go back in my memory and recreate that in my head with the song. It was a nice way to reinforce those memories.”

Your parents crop up a couple of times on the record for their activism with the language. There’s been a nearly 400 per cent rise in pupils in Irish-medium education over 25 years, and over 1million active learners on Duolingo learning the language. What does it mean to you when people talk about ‘the Kneecap effect’ with people picking up their native tongue?

Móglaí Bap: “On the opening track ‘Éire go Deo’, this is an ode to the people that gave Kneecap this opportunity, who set the framework, who started the schools and the cultural centres, the youth clubs. We just feel like Kneecap is part of the wider movement. We’re working with kids, sports teams and all this stuff. If I were 16 years old now and saw an Irish language film in the cinema, it’s very important that you feel that your culture is valued and seen in these mainstream areas.”

Before the band started, Móglaí Bap was active in promoting the Irish language through music, DJ Próvaí was a teacher, and Mo Chara was training to be a youth worker. What was it about the spirit of who you were before Kneecap, why you needed this outlet, and how much of that you still carry today?

DJ Próvaí: “Those three things you mentioned all kind of align in the language movement. When we all started out, we all loved the language. We were in our early twenties, and all found each other. Something happened in Belfast, and we were all drawn towards it. We became this big friendship group. Lots of people were leaving school and didn’t get the chance to speak the Irish language in a social setting. We found each other just at a time when we needed that in a social outlet.

“Music, partying and talking in Irish was what it all revolved around. All of those things lined up nicely.”

Mo Chara: “With the youth work and stuff, there was that need for a social space. Any kind of movement needs social spaces. People were going to school, a lot of people were leaving school with a basic grasp of Irish, and then weren’t really using it again. We were kind of creating that social setting. That’s when I started volunteering, and it was out of that ethos that Kneecap grew: that need to see the subculture represented. Once we all bumped heads, this was the natural progression to go.”

Móglaí Bap: “It was a grown collective self-esteem that Kneecap came out of – this idea that we do deserve the same rights as everyone else. Because we had these jobs as youth workers, teachers or working in events, we thought that we should have art and culture in the Irish language. That seed was planted.”

What do you want now? How do you imagine the future for Kneecap?

Móglaí Bap: “I’m happy to be making music and having the opportunity to go around the world and meet with people from different indigenous cultures. That’s such a cool thing. Not just in Ireland, but people all around the world are going towards their native, indigenous language. That’s something that we can hopefully connect more with.”

Mo Chara: “I’m just hoping that we can keep doing what we’re doing and not think too far ahead. We’ll keep reminding ourselves of how lucky we are and long may it last.”

Do you feel like the next to undermine you could be just around the corner?

Mo Chara: “I don’t know. I try not to think about these things. If it is, it’s going to be out of our hands anyway. We’ll just do what we can. As long as people listen to us and as long as long as there’s a demand there, then we’ll just continue to create.”

Móglaí Bap: “We started Kneecap with a lack of self esteem. We thought nobody would be interested in Kneecap outside of our 10 friends. Maybe something was changing and people were looking for something more authentic. Over the years our confidence grew and Kneecap is something that we’ll continue to work on and bring us to new places around the world.”

DJ Próvaí: “Hopefully new generations will take some more self esteem and take it to the next level as well.”

Móglaí Bap: “If we’re an inspiration for other bands to do a similar thing in Irish, then even better. That will be a great conclusion.”

In the very least, you’ve got some great material for Kneecap: The Movie 2.

Móglaí Bap: “And we’re going to franchise it like The Fast And The Furious, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.”

Mo Chara: “If the money’s right.”

Who’s going to play Keir Starmer?

DJ Próvaí: “Quasimodo.”

Móglaí Bap: “Sharon Osbourne.”

‘Fenian’ by Kneecap is out now. 

The post Kneecap on ‘Fenian’ and fighting back: “We understand that religious divide serves absolutely nobody” appeared first on NME.

David Arnold is a James Bond expert. In 1997, shortly after scoring sci-fi blockbuster Independence Day, he recruited Pulp, Iggy Pop, Bjork, Chrissie Hynde and Leftfield for the ambitious ‘Shaken And Stirred’ Bond covers album. 007 boss Barbara Broccoli was so impressed, she hired him to work on the soundtrack for that year’s Tomorrow Never Dies. He returned for The World Is Not Enough, Die Another Day, Casino Royale and Quantum Of Solace.

Now Arnold’s back in the world of martinis and MI6 for ‘First Light’, his titular collaboration with fellow Bond superfan Lana Del Rey that serves as the theme song to a bold new video game. “We didn’t set out to just make the next James Bond game, we set out to tell the next James Bond story,” explains Dominic Vega, audio director at developer IO Interactive. “Getting the theme song right was really important to the soul of the project.” When the idea of Arnold and Del Rey working on it was suggested, “it seemed too good to be true,” he grins. But here we are.

First Light, an action-adventure game that details the origins of 007, was first pitched to Arnold by Broccoli at an appropriately high-level briefing. “The meeting took a long time and was very detail heavy. I loved how committed they were,” says Arnold. “But really [I said yes immediately because] it was the opportunity to write an official Bond theme. I’ve never tired of doing that. I really don’t mind if that’s what I’m known for, because It’s always been my dream,” says the composer, who saw his first Bond flick ‘You Only Live Twice’ when he was just eight years old.

The soaring ballad takes Bond into a new era

Rather than rushing off to bash out his sixth Bond anthem though, Arnold spent time with the concept art, script and early development footage of the game. “I’m obviously aware of the 60 years of history – all the songs that have been written as well as all the movies, TV shows and novels that have been [created around this character]. But I had to get a sense of what this Bond was like,” says Arnold, referring to how actor Patrick Gibson has taken on the mantle of the world’s most famous secret agent for this title. He follows Daniel Craig, whose explosive farewell in No Time To Die half a decade ago still smarts for some fans. A fresh face for the films is still to be announced.

Back when Arnold first fell in love with Bond, the suited and booted gentleman was an aspirational figure who could do whatever he wanted in the name of king and country without any consequences. Craig’s era changed all that. “He didn’t just kick someone in the face, say something funny then bugger off. It’s not quite a vulnerability… but more layers have definitely been revealed. There’s room for him to be something different now,” says Arnold, who wanted to explore that within the lyrics.

“It’d be easy to fall back into things that have been done before, and I’m sure there are people who think I’ve done that, but the intent is to move it along every time. Billie Eilish’s ‘No Time To Die’ doesn’t sound anything like Shirley Bassey’s ‘Goldfinger’ or Wings’ ‘Live And Let Die’. Carly Simon’s ‘Nobody Does It Better’ doesn’t sound like John Barry’s ‘You Only Live Twice’ which doesn’t sound like Matt Monro’s ‘From Russia With Love’ but they’re all quintessential Bond songs. There’s just this feeling to them all that makes them Bond – and that’s what I needed to discover [for ‘First Light’]. It’s always the hardest part of the process.”

Lana knew just what was needed

What wasn’t difficult was working out who was going to sing it. Lana’s name sat top of the list of potential suitors – and she needed no convincing to get involved. “Lana pitched a song for Spectre and is very aware of the history of James Bond,” says Arnold. Del Rey’s cut was eventually rejected in favour of ‘Writing’s On The Wall’ by Sam Smith. “For as long as she’s been making records, people have asked why she hasn’t done a James Bond theme yet. There’s just something about Lana Del Rey that makes her [perfect] for Bond – and that’s definitely not true of everyone. She’s just timeless.” And timelessness is something Arnold has always aimed for. “I want people to be able to listen to the songs in 30 years without thinking they sound dated.”

Still, with Del Rey busy headlining stadiums and festivals following the release of 2023’s ‘Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd’, Arnold needed to rely on modern technology to get the track finished. Over the course of several months, the pair traded ideas back-and-forth over Zoom. “She’s charming, funny and brilliant but was also really enthusiastic and engaged with the whole process. All you can really ask for in a collaborator is someone who is as committed as you,” remembers Arnold.

“When you’re working closely with someone, you can forget just how brilliant they actually are. But as soon as she sang that first verse… it was just amazing… Her voice is extraordinary and is always unmistakably her.”

There are clues to the game’s story hidden within

In keeping with First Light being an origin story, Arnold revisited some of author Ian Fleming’s books for inspiration – which is where the dreamy yet haunting lyric about “running towards the sun” came from. “The idea of charging towards an exploding sun seemed to sum up who Bond is [in First Light],” says Arnold. “It’s the perfect metaphor for something unknown and dangerous, but he’s compelled to go towards it anyway. The song feels like a warning.”

“It does a great job of hinting at what path this young Bond is going down. Just like in Casino Royale [where the iconic theme doesn’t play until the very end of the film], the player earns the themes as they play the game,” adds Vega.

The track celebrates Bond’s past, present and future

‘First Light’ also laid the foundations for The Flight’s original score for the game which, according to Vega, has the same texture and feel. “We had conversations to ensure we were on the same page because music’s such a huge part of Bond’s world,” agrees Arnold. “They were asking me the same sort of questions I was asking in 1997 when I did Tomorrow Never Dies.”

A lot of ‘First Light’ and the cinematic title sequence it soundtracks feels like a modern update to classic Bond. “The game shows a version of him we haven’t really seen before in a world that we’re familiar with. We needed a song that moved the sound of the universe forward, but could also exist alongside all the great songs that have come before,” says Vega.

“We wanted to anchor it in what we already know [to show people] it’s part of the same world,” says Arnold. “Music has been so important to the James Bond series. To run away from what’s made it great would have been foolish.”

‘007 First Light’ is released on May 27 for PS5, Xbox Series X|S and PC

The post Inside Lana Del Rey’s era-defining James Bond theme song ‘First Light’ appeared first on NME.

Pete Doherty has spoken to NME about his appreciation for Back To Black, director Sam Taylor-Johnson’s 2024 biopic on the life and death of Amy Winehouse – a film that Doherty feels was unfairly treated by critics at the time.

• READ MORE: Babyshambles tell us about reuniting for UK tour: “We have to do this now”

Industry’s Marisa Abela played the legendary singer, alongside Sinners’ Jack O’Connell as Winehouse’s notorious ex-husband Blake Fielder-Civil. Though Abela received some praise for her performance, the film was widely panned and holds a 35 per cent ‘rotten’ rating on reviews aggregator Rotten Tomatoes.

“I personally enjoyed it,” said Doherty at the Luxembourg City Film Festival in March, where he was serving for the first time as a member of the International Jury. “I thought she captured it all. I mean, Amy had a very distinctive way of moving, of talking, almost impossible to recreate. I thought [Abela] did it really well, but also it’s the little things, the music that she was playing in her flat, the music that was on the jukebox when they’re in the pub, the characters in the pub. It was just spot on with all these little details.”

“I thought the people that panned it, because it got a proper critical hammering, I thought it was a bit unfair, to be honest,” the singer-songwriter continued. ”It’s a cruel, merciless world out there with the film critics.”

Most importantly, Doherty said he thought Back To Black’s subject would’ve approved. “I think Amy would have liked it,” he said. “It was basically a love story, wasn’t it? It wasn’t so much about her dad, and everyone goes on and on about her dad. It was about her and Blake and when they fell in love. I thought they captured the ‘them against the world’ bit well. I thought the voice was her voice.”

Doherty also spoke warmly of his relationship with cinema, from the fun of hearing his tunes in films like Steve Jobs and Children Of Men to the many works of kitchen sink social realism that have inspired his songwriting over the years. “Yeah, there’s been lots of borrowing,” Doherty went on. “The song ‘Lust Of The Libertines’, that’s got [1960s New Wave films] Kind Of Loving, Poor Cow and Family Way in it. That’s three films in one chorus. It [came out of my] interest with that era, or just England, or just Britain, that borders on obsession.”

The Libertines and Babyshambles frontman has made his own attempts at acting, including starring opposite Charlotte Gainsbourg in Sylvie Verheyde’s stylish 2012 romance Confession Of A Child Of The Century. However, after admitting to mistaking the two-time Palme d’Or-winning director Michael Haneke for a Jewish holiday during one of the festival’s jury deliberations, Doherty conceded that his viewing habits rarely leave the artform’s earliest decades.

“I don’t tend to watch a lot of modern films. It’s a bit blind really, because there’s so much talent out there. My missus [filmmaker Katia De Vidas] loves to go to the cinema, films are her life, but I just sort of watch the same over and over again. Sunset Boulevard and Casablanca. The Maltese Falcon. It’s like an opiated sort of thing, like a comfort blanket. The first I ever watched as a kid were the Marx Brothers films. My dad used to love them. I still don’t think there’s a film universe that I’d rather be in than the Marx Brothers’,” Doherty remembered, before rummaging in his pocket for a fake moustache and launching into a decent Groucho impersonation. “It’s pure punk rock,” he concluded, “pure anarchy.”

Since the festival wrapped up in March, the singer has been playing solo shows across Europe as he gears up for a series of festival dates with The Libertines over the summer. Last week, Babyshambles announce a huge Margate show as their only UK gig of 2026.

“A Beano is guaranteed for all. Kiss me quick – sun, sea, sand on a Bank Holiday Weekend …does it get any better? …no,” said Doherty in a statement.

The post Pete Doherty hits out at critics of Amy Winehouse biopic ‘Back To Black’: “She would’ve liked it” appeared first on NME.

Failure frontman Ken Andrews has spoken to NME about the band’s past, present and future, shortly after the release of their new album ‘Location Lost’. Check out our full interview below.

The alt-rock trio, completed by bassist Greg Edwards and drummer Kellii Scott, shared their seventh full-length record last Friday (April 24). It marked the fourth LP since their 2014 comeback, after the ’90s-formed outfit disbanded in 1997 following addiction issues within the band and mistreatment from their label. In their absence, the 1996 album ‘Fantastic Planet’ became a revered cult classic, and the group gained notable admirers, including Paramore’s Hayley Williams and actor David Dastmalchian.

Since their triumphant return 12 years ago, Failure have enjoyed a second stint of recording, touring and renewed appreciation, but the road has nonetheless presented obstacles. Most recently, a sudden back injury resulted in Andrews undergoing surgery, shortly after he finished the gruelling editing process for their decade-in-the-making documentary, 2025’s Every Time You Lose Your Mind.

“It’s pretty much back to normal,” he told NME of his injury. “I’m a little bit slower now, but that’s also age. That was a rough ride, but I’m out of it now.” After the time-consuming impact of both the film and his recovery, he explained that reuniting with Edwards and Scott to write ‘Location Lost’ was challenging at first.

“[The documentary] ended up taking the place of what could have been an album cycle, and that maybe had a little bit of a negative effect on morale,” he said. “When we got together, there was a little bit of stress. We were all wondering, ‘What does it mean to be in this band at this point?’ When Greg suggested the title ‘Location Lost’, it really resonated.”

From the trip-hop intro of ‘Crash Test Delayed’ to the art-rock of ‘Someday Soon’, the album pushes Failure’s traditionally moody, pensive sound into uncharted territory. Check out our full interview below, where Andrews unpicked the band’s two eras, discussed how Williams came to feature on ‘The Rising Skyline’, seeing a “big shift” in their audience, and what the future has in store for the “rebooted version” of Failure.

NME: Hello, Ken. ‘Location Lost’ means you’ve now released more albums in your second chapter than in the ’90s. Does it feel like you’ve reclaimed the narrative over your legacy, after the manner of Failure’s breakup and the acclaim you increasingly gained in your absence?

Ken Andrews: “It’s been a ride. We’re pretty surprised that we’re still going, I thought it would be one album. The real challenge has been keeping the band’s sound while actually trying to move forward at the same time. If we’re going to call it Failure and try to keep a consistency through the records, you have to retain something. I’m pretty proud that I think we were able to do that.”

Is moving forward important to you now in a different way to during the ’90s?

“In the ’90s, it was more about getting it right. It wasn’t until ‘Fantastic Planet’ where we felt, ‘OK, this is what we want to sound like’. Cut to the rebooted version of the band, and that wasn’t really a problem anymore. We weren’t fighting with labels; it was more about figuring out where we wanted to take the band and how far away we wanted to go from ‘Fantastic Planet’.”

Does it feel like you’re still riding the wave of appreciation that came with your 2014 comeback, despite the obstacles along the way?

“There’s been a really big shift in our audience since we rebooted. In 2014, it was a lot of people coming back from the nostalgia of the ’90s, and that’s faded somewhat. Now, it’s mostly younger people who are into the band, and they’re coming without having the baggage of us being a ’90s band versus a current band. We saw a breakdown of our streaming listenership, and the largest [age group] was 18-30.”

Why do you think young people are resonating with Failure?

“They connect with the emotion of the music. A lot of people, they’re like, ‘Oh, that’s depressing music’. It’s dark, melancholy, and not what they want to hear. But for people who are tuned into the darker or more melancholic side of their emotions, there’s a catharsis there. The overall effect is uplifting, even though the music isn’t overtly uplifting itself.”

Your documentary, Every Time You Lose Your Mind, took a decade to complete. Was it a difficult process, in terms of both the workload and revisiting the ’90s with such brutal honesty?

“They started filming in 2015, but in 2020 they abandoned the film because of COVID. When I finally saw the footage, especially [comedian] Margaret Cho’s interview about the connection between art and addiction, that piqued my interest, and so we bought the footage. In 2022, I turned my focus back to the documentary… it was cathartic. There were moments where all those memories of the bad times were rushing back. It hit me a few times, the tragedy of the first half of the band’s existence.”

Your former guitarist Troy Van Leeuwen appears in the documentary. What stands out from your time with him in 1996 and 1997, when the band wasn’t in the best place?

“There was an initial excitement about him joining. But the touring on ‘Fantastic Planet’ ended up being pretty fraught because of Greg’s addiction, wondering every week, ‘Are we going to finish this tour?’ It was bittersweet to have Troy join at that moment. It could have been more of a joyous thing, but it ended up being frustrating.”

Would you consider working with him again, much like how his current band, Queens Of The Stone Age, brought out former bassist Nick Oliveri last week?

“We actually took Troy back out on tour [in 2015]. Nobody was having any drug problems at the time, so it was cool to hang out. I would definitely consider working with Troy again. Queens Of The Stone Age work a lot, so his schedule is tough.”

Hayley Williams has publicly been a long-standing admirer of Failure. How much have you got to know each other over the years?

“I was up for producing one of their very first records, but it didn’t pan out. Their self-titled album [2013’s ‘Paramore’], I ended up mixing that. They were having trouble making a decision. [Justin Meldal-Johnsen] was producing the record, and he suggested five mixers [anonymously] mix the same song. They all unanimously picked my mix! I always look at that as a fateful thing, because Paramore had been influenced by Failure.

“Hayley and I text every once in a while. Recently, she hit me up to perform at this benefit show for the LA fires, and that’s when I told her about the new Failure record. After that, I sent her four songs, and she instantly gravitated towards ‘The Rising Skyline’. She said, ‘This is a very different song for you guys, but it’s very delicate’. That’s when I [realised] she could sing on that song, and that would make sense. She was like, ‘Send it to me quick, because we’re wrapping up my solo album‘.”

What did you connect with about her vocals?

“It felt really special. I love the way she sang it; there was a real subtlety to her performance. She knocked it out of the park.”

Have you discussed an opportunity to play the song live yet?

“I don’t really know what she’s up to, but if our schedules somehow synced up, that would be amazing.”

What’s next for Failure? Have you worked through the difficulties that came at the start of creating ‘Location Lost’?

“It’s definitely better than it was, but there’s still a little bit of, ‘What is the future for the band?’ It doesn’t feel like 2015, where everything felt brand new again. There’s a lot more at play in our personal lives now… I’ve always actually enjoyed not knowing my long-term plans, because it keeps things interesting. But everything gets a little bit heavier as you get older, and your time becomes more precious. When we get towards the end of [this touring cycle] is when we’ll probably start having conversations, if we want to keep going or not.”

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Conversely, do you find yourself taking stock of how far Failure have come?

“Not too much. We’ve been through a lot as a band. I try to take it all in my stride, because the part that I really enjoy is being in the studio and making new music. That’s my happy place. I don’t see that going anywhere. I’m actually scoring a horror film called Sigil right now. It’s pretty early days, but I’m really excited to be involved.”

Could that manifest into more solo material? Has Trump’s second term inspired you to write from the same creative place as your politically-charged 2020 single ‘Sword And Shield’?

“I’m a little burnt out on the whole political side of things. Between the documentary and my back surgery, I kind of lost the plot for my political expressions. I may come back to it, but as of right now, I’m taking a break, and also from social media. It saps your energy. I guess I feel a little bit of guilt, because people have to speak out and say what they feel. But at the same time, the whole energy spent on social media? It’s not healthy.”

Failure’s new album ‘Location Lost’ is out now via Failure/Arduous. Every Time You Lose Your Mind streamed on Hulu/Disney+ in the US, and the band are currently looking for a partner to stream or broadcast it in the UK/Europe.

Check out Failure’s full list of upcoming North American tour dates below. Visit here for tickets and information.

MAY
02 – Radius (SPACE ECHO), Chicago, IL
03 – Grog Shop, Cleveland, OH
05 – The Basement East, Nashville, TN
06 – Masquerade – Hell, Atlanta, GA
08 – Welcome To Rockville Festival, Daytona Beach, FL
09 – Eulogy, Asheville, NC
10 – Cat’s Cradle, Carrboro, NC
12 – Le Poisson Rouge, New York, NY
13 – The Sinclair, Cambridge, MA
14 – Space Ballroom, Hamden, CT
15 – Union Stage, Washington, DC
16 – Archer Music Hall (Arrow), Harrisburg, PA
17 – Underground Arts, Philadelphia, PA
19 – The Shelter, Detroit, MI
20 – The Opera House, Toronto, ON

SEPTEMBER
30 – The Chapel, San Francisco, CA

OCTOBER
02 – Rickshaw Theatre, Vancouver
03 – The Showbox, Seattle, WA
04 – Revolution Hall, Portland, OR
07 – Fine Line, Minneapolis, MN
08 – The Waiting Room Lounge, Omaha, NE
11 – A&R Music Bar, Columbus, OH
13 – Warsaw, Brooklyn, NY
14 – The Met RI, Pawtucket, RI
16 – Town Ballroom, Buffalo, NY
17 – Headliners Music Hall, Louisville, KY
18 – The Pyramid Scheme, Grand Rapids, MI
20 – The Vogue, Indianapolis, IN
21 – Delmar Hall, Saint Louis, MO
22 – Bottleneck, Lawrence, KS
23 – Beer City Music Hall, Oklahoma City, OK
24 – Texas Motor Speedway, Fort Worth, TX
26 – Bluebird Theater, Denver, CO
28 – Crescent Ballroom, Phoenix, AZ
29 – Music Box, San Diego, CA
30 – The Belasco Theater, Los Angeles, CA

The post Failure tell us about longevity, working with Hayley Williams, and uncertainty for the future: “Everything gets a little bit heavier as you get older” appeared first on NME.

Half Man, writer and actor Richard Gadd’s eagerly-anticipated follow-up to the hugely successful Baby Reindeer, begins with a joyous scene. A glorious wedding party is in full flow with revellers dancing merrily in the sunlight. In typical Gadd fashion, however, it doesn’t take long for a more brutal reality to kick in. He plays the hench and brooding Ruben, who viewers meet stripped to the waist and looking like he’s about to step into the UFC Octagon. Opposite him is Niall (Jamie Bell), the kilted groom clearly wishing he was anywhere but in a dimly lit barn with a man whose heavily strapped hands suggest he didn’t come to propose a toast to the happy couple. “You don’t have to speak,” Ruben tells him. “You have to listen.”

• READ MORE: ‘Half Man’ review: more dark and addictive drama from ‘Baby Reindeer’ creator Richard Gadd

It’s a scene that makes the dynamic between the pair clear – a direct and physically imposing alpha male whose mere presence suggests danger and, alongside him, the bookish and lower status Niall, forever in his shadow. The series skips back through three decades of history between the two, slowly piecing together a story of obsession, repulsion, loyalty, betrayal and life-altering violence that leads to the wedding showdown. Like Baby Reindeer, Half Man finds Gadd exploring what draws people together and the voids we fill in each other’s lives.

“Both of them need what the other one has,” Gadd says while speaking in a private room at a Soho hotel, the sleeves of his crisp white T-shirt stretching against the muscular frame he trained six days a week to build. “As a result they form a bond at a young age which is kind of unbreakable.” In a nuanced and richly written story, Gadd explores the ways in which that unbreakable bond feels like a suffocating headlock. “It’s about the thin line between love and hate,” he explains. “No matter how fractured things become, their love still outweighs the hatred.”

Half Man is about two men who display harmful traits but Gadd is keen to stress he did not write the show as a means of tackling the hot button issue of toxic masculinity. “I never want my work to have this kind of overarching moral point,” he says, drawing a line between his complicated characters and the manosphere-led characters shown in Adolescence or Louis Theroux’s recent Netflix documentary. “I don’t write to answer issues. If anything, what it offers is a lot of questions and not many solutions. At the heart of Baby Reindeer and Half Man is a confusion about human existence.”

For Ruben and Niall, that existence begins when their mothers start a relationship and bring their respective sons together in a blended family. “My brother from another lover,” Ruben (played as a teenager in a series of flashbacks by Stuart Campbell) calls Niall (Mitchell Robertson). Niall is being bullied at school until Ruben, freshly released from a young offenders institute, scares them away. Niall is also questioning his sexuality, something he is desperate to hide from the imposing figure he now shares a bedroom with. Both young men have absent fathers and harbour deep-seated resentments. Ruben meets his feelings with anger while Niall might appear innocent on first impression but slowly reveals more insidious character traits as the series progresses. Questions are asked of how responsible we are for our actions and, in Ruben’s case, why violence is so often the solution he reaches for.

Music helps set the scene for these 1980s flashbacks, which are soundtracked by era-perfect needle drops from The Boomtown Rats, Echo & The Bunnymen and Yazoo among others.

“I obsess over every little track [in my shows]”

Proof of Gadd’s obsession with music comes before our interview begins. “I need to show you something,” he says. We ask if it’s the NME cover spotted on the bedroom wall Niall and Ruben share as teenagers. In fact, it’s something better. Gadd has been scouring eBay for vintage covers of the magazine released around the time of huge events in musical history; there’s the deaths of John Lennon and Kurt Cobain sat next to the famous Blur vs Oasis cover of August 1995. Each one is framed and lines the wall of his London flat, meaning visitors move through time as they get closer to the door.

“I obsess over every little track,” Gadd says, returning to the show. “The songs offer such interesting timestamps.” That said, picking the tunes for the show wasn’t as simple as finding what was most likely to be played in a student union in 1989. There’s a scene in the second episode that requires a steely disposition to watch. Without spoiling specific details, a friend of Niall’s gets on the wrong side of Ruben’s temper while ‘Only You’, Yazoo’s shimmering and tender ballad, plays as blood spatters the floor of a university halls kitchen. Gadd explains that the song’s lyrics (“All I ever knew… Only you”) capture the poisoned connection between the pair. “Lyrically, ‘Only You’ couldn’t have been more perfect for Ruben and Niall’s relationship. I put a lot of thought and cerebral explanation into the way Half Man sounds.”

Gadd says he was adamant that every stomp, kick, and punch of Ruben’s blind fury felt as real as possible. “A problem I have with violence on TV is how choreographed and fake it can feel,” he says. “Acts of violence are always sort of awkward so I wanted it to be messy. The second it feels choreographed is the second he loses his power.”

“The battle I had with myself during my twenties was intolerable”

Toxic masculinity is something we often see projected outwards by men in the way they treat others. In Half Man, Gadd suggests its roots may actually be more tied up with how men treat themselves. When we ask if he sees a connection between the bookish and sexually confused Niall and Baby Reindeer’s similarly self-loathing Donny Dunn, the writer pinpoints their shared struggle with self-identity: “They are both going through a crisis of self.”

The struggle to truly accept oneself is something Gadd says he will continue to return to in his work. “I’ve gone through a sort of identity battle in a lot of ways in my life and I’m not done exploring that. I look back at my twenties and I’m in a lot better place now, but the battle I had with myself was intolerable at times. It was like being in a prison. I felt so trapped inside of myself, I almost couldn’t have a conversation without real trickle-down intrusive thoughts that were just crushingly negative. I was so damning about everything I did all the time.”

What surprised Gadd the most after Baby Reindeer is how many people would approach him to share that they, too, felt the same “cosmic” struggle. “Self-hate, more than we would care to admit, is something that people struggle with a lot.” Gadd knows first-hand what that feels like and says his work directly addresses people in the same boat. “I feel like it’s something that should be honoured on screen so people can see it reflected back and know that they’re not alone.”

Isolation and loneliness lay at the heart of Baby Reindeer, too. It was the breakout moment for Gadd who, until that point, had been a relatively unknown stand up comedian. He took two stage shows, ‘Monkey See Monkey Do’ and ‘Baby Reindeer’, and transformed his real life story into an excavating work that chronicled his experiences of being stalked by a female fan, Martha, and sexually assaulted by a TV industry figure he met earlier in his career.

It’s hard to state just how big the 2024 Netflix show became upon its release. It made its way onto the streamer’s list of the most-watched English-language TV series of all-time and won six Emmy Awards, including Outstanding Writing for Gadd and Outstanding Supporting Actress for Jessica Gunning, whose masterful turn as Martha was both terrifying and unflinchingly vulnerable.

In addition to awards and eyeballs, Baby Reindeer also caught fire among a group of true crime-trained viewers keen to take a more active role in the TV they consume and begin working things out for themselves. Martha was established by online sleuths as being based on London-based lawyer Fiona Harvey, something she acknowledged while keenly disputing the depiction of the character in relation to real life events. In June 2024 Harvey brought a $170million defamation lawsuit against Netflix. Prior to speaking with Gadd, it was established that he would be unable to comment on the ongoing legal case.

“I haven’t made any new famous friends and I still drive a 2007 Skoda”

Success, in both positive and negative ways, is no longer something Gadd is a stranger to. Baby Reindeer resulted in a lucrative Netflix deal and newfound recognition, taking him from doing stand-up comedy in London pubs to Paris Fashion Week, having been personally invited to Jonathan Anderson’s spring/summer 2025 presentation for Loewe. Gadd says he doesn’t let the newfound fame alter his life too much. “I haven’t made any new famous friends and I still drive a 2007 Skoda Fabia,” he laughs. “Materialism means nothing to me, I’d rather be connected to life. I don’t want to ever feel like I’m above that, because then I won’t be able to write about it.”

Even so, it must have been hard to adjust to the aftermath of Baby Reindeer – a cathartic but exposing story informed by real life trauma that turned into a global phenomenon. At some point, any writer would lose control of the narrative. “Since Baby Reindeer, I feel like I’ve been walking around naked,” Gadd told the New York Times in a recent interview. It begs the question of whether he is still chasing that same high, or whether he is keen to step out of the limelight with Half Man and his future projects?

“My only hope is that Half Man is received well,” Gadd says diplomatically. “Whatever ‘well’ means, I don’t really know.” We put it more bluntly to him. If there was a button that would guarantee the show would play out on the same scale, rave reviews and awards but with the same intense focus on him personally, would he press it? He deflects once again and argues, fairly, that the fallout from Baby Reindeer still has him feeling windswept. “At the end of the day, I just want to make something that gets people talking,” he says. “I almost can’t speak to the success of Baby Reindeer and whether I want to replicate it or not, because I haven’t even processed it yet.”

If he can’t predict the outcome of his new TV show, what about humanity more generally? Does Gadd, whose work often plumbs the depths that people can push each other to, see any hope in our destabilised and dystopian world right now? “Maybe it’s foolish but I do believe in human beings at the end of the day,” he says. “We’re going through such a crisis right now, not just in terms of masculinity, but in society and even the way we’re interacting as countries, but I still believe in kindred spirits and just basic human decency.”

He concedes, though, that this might just be hopeful naivety speaking. “The news cycle is so extreme and there’s so much shouting and debate and discussion. You can sometimes just feel like you’re in the middle of a whirlpool not knowing which direction to turn or what to do. It leads to this mass alienation of people who just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Gadd is the first to admit he doesn’t have the answers people are looking for. But from the middle of the confusion, he offers a much needed dose of compassion and understanding. It feels like a step in the right direction.

‘Half Man’ episode one is out now via BBC iPlayer and new episodes are released every Friday

The post Richard Gadd survived ‘Baby Reindeer’ – but can he endure his own success? appeared first on NME.

Sean Ono Lennon, son of John Lennon and Yoko Ono, is very busy right now. When he pops up late to our scheduled Friday afternoon Zoom call, the first thing he does is apologise.

“Sorry this was all a bit last minute. I had to squeeze you in because I have an album coming out with my band The Delirium – and I’ve been doing a lot of stuff to finish it off.” Add to that a feature documentary premiering at Tribeca Film Festival, tour dates scheduled throughout May and June, as well as his dad’s special Record Store Day ‘Love Meditation Mixes’ vinyl (which he’s produced) and we’re surprised the prolific, curtain-fringed musician turned up today at all.

He’s eager to chat about yet another of his projects though. It’s the upcoming concert film Power To The People: John & Yoko Live In NYC, in which footage of his parents’ famous 1972 charity gigs at Madison Square Garden has been exquisitely restored to crystal clear quality. Seriously, you can make out every single follicle of those iconic sideburns.

Sadly, the two shows (one evening, one matinee) ended up being John’s only full-length performances before he was murdered by Mark David Chapman in 1980. Sean, whose ongoing job as custodian of his dad’s legacy he takes extremely seriously, says this makes Power To The People even more special.

Hey Sean, tell us about the new concert film

“Well, it’s been a very long time in the making. The concert was originally filmed in 1972 and for decades the footage was being restored to high quality digital. But I didn’t oversee that process because I know nothing about it. I wasn’t really involved until more recently.”

What was your role in it all?

“My main job was the sound quality. I worked on the ‘Imagine’ album [re-release] mixes [in 2018] and there wasn’t really much to do. But here… there was so much work to do.”

Did it sound really terrible?

“I grew up listening to the live album [of the same concert] – ‘John Lennon Live In New York City’. I used to hear that on my mum’s stereo all the time because she was putting it out when I was a kid. [Ono produced the posthumous record in 1986]. And I always thought it sounded a bit, you know, mushy.”

But your dad sounds incredible in the film…

“I think everyone who listens to it gets chills from how good his voice is – and it’s good in a way that is totally un-Beatles. It’s like he’s finding a new way of singing.”

Where did that come from?

“He and my mum had famously done a lot of work with these ‘primal scream’ people. I actually have a book that [The Who‘s] Pete Townsend sent my dad – it’s called The Primal Scream [by Arthur Janov]. Anyway, my dad got into it but the whole thing turned out to be kind of bullshit. I mean, it’s not good to just scream and cry to solve your childhood trauma. It actually reinforces those feelings.”

What did your mum say when she saw the footage of them performing together?

“Well, she’s had to deal with people not understanding her particular musicality for so long. She did a show at Glastonbury [in 2014] that was kind of misunderstood. I was really impressed that when she got that negative feedback, she was just like: ‘Well, they don’t understand me.’ She is invulnerable to people not understanding that part of her because she just thinks that they aren’t hip enough.”

In this film, she gives some of her most traditional vocal performances…

“You could say that… I think my mother got an unfair amount of negativity because of all The Beatles stuff. They thought she broke up The Beatles – and then she starts wailing like a crazy person (in their minds) and it upset them a lot. But what she was doing was very avant-garde and cool and punk and weird. She essentially invented punk. [Sex Pistols manager] Malcolm McLaren said that my mum’s Plastic Ono band, not my dad’s Plastic Ono Band, made the first punk album.”

The song ‘Open Your Box’, which is in the new film, was banned in America…

“Because the euphemism is too sexual. But I honestly don’t think she meant ‘your box’ in that sense. She’s actually a real lady. I think she meant ‘don’t live in a box’.”

There’s a great bit where your dad sings ‘Come Together’ and apologises for the “silly” lyrics – do you think he was reluctant to perform The Beatles tracks then?

“Oh, for sure he was. He was the kind of person who didn’t want to look back. It wasn’t that he didn’t like The Beatles. He loved The Beatles. He was The Beatles. But they were people who really lived in the moment. He had to move on to the next thing quickly or he panicked.”

Are you like that too?

“I think it actually gave me the opposite personality. I don’t want to burn bridges and cut off the past. I’m very much still friends with people from my childhood and my early school years.”

Power To The People comes out on your mum and dad’s 57th wedding anniversary – is that something you still observe?

“I might mention it. I try to be a good son. There’s a lot of stuff to remember, man. The thing that my mum has always cared about most is New Year’s Eve and Christmas.”

Do you always spend those dates together?

“I’m not bragging but I’ve been with my mum for 49 Christmases. I’m 50 years old. And there was one year that I missed it because I went with my friend to Australia instead. I think I was 15 or 16 and I had the best time. But then every year after that, my mum would say at Christmas dinner, ‘Do you remember that time that you went to Australia?’ And I would say, ‘Yeah, I remember.’ And she goes: ‘That was very bad.’ [Laughs]”

Why did she care so much?

“I’m the youngest child, so I have to take care of the elders. That’s sort of how it is in Japanese culture.”

Did you ever introduce her to Fat White Family when you were working together?

“Yeah, they hung out. In fact, my mum sang a vocal on a Moonlandingz track which is one of our adjacent projects.”

What were those sessions like?

“When you’re recording someone like Yoko Ono, you make sure it’s just a very quiet time in the studio when no one’s around. You bring her in and you say ‘will you sing on this track?’ She says, ‘yes’. She does it once and that’s it. So it wasn’t like they were sitting there jamming with the band.”

You got into a fight on Twitter last week defending your parents from trolls – why bother?

“I think what people don’t understand is that when they say that stuff [on the internet], they’re basically insulting my mum. And if you’re going to insult my mother, I’m not going to be nice about it.”

It feels like the kind of thing your dad would be doing if he had social media in 2026…

“I think you’re right actually. He wrote some very, let’s say, energetic letters to critics who reviewed his albums badly – and they were always really funny. He would tear them apart and be like, ‘you pseudo-intellectual arsehole!’ but then at the end: ‘peace and love, John Lennon.’ I thought that was really sweet, and that is my model for how I defend them to people. I’ll do it – but I’m also kind of kidding.”

There is zero irony in letting a maid do her job. Thinking otherwise is a very goofy take. They were not protesting maid service.

— Seán Ono Lennon (@seanonolennon) April 22, 2026

I’ve got to ask you about the Sam Mendes Beatles films – has anyone reached out to you?

“Yeah, I met everyone on the film set. I think Harris [Dickinson, playing John Lennon] is amazing. I think he’s really smart and I did hear him do my dad’s voice a little bit – and it was so good. It was kind of spooky actually. But there’s also something really funny about meeting someone half your age who is supposed to be your dad.”

Did you get to meet Anna Sawai, who’s playing your mum?

“Yeah, I know Anna. We kind of hung out a little bit. She’s a very studious person. She would ask me questions about my family and she was really serious, you know, taking notes and thinking about it. They both understand the craft. I have a lot of faith in them to play those roles.”

Did Anna speak to your mum as well?

“No, not really. She’s retired now. She’s 93. She’s not going to micro-manage this project.”

Are there any more John and Yoko jobs on the horizon?

“I can say that we’re going to do [Lennon’s 1974 album] ‘Walls And Bridges’ probably next year. I don’t like promising things though.”

And what about the extended Beatles family, do you see much of them?

“I had dinner with Paul, Stella and Mary [McCartney] about a month ago. I don’t think it’s a secret but I’m one of the four directors at [The Beatles’ company] Apple, which includes Ringo and Paul, so we often have to interact… We’re like a weird family.”

Let’s finish by talking about your new album with The Claypool Lennon Delirium, ‘The Great Parrot-Ox And The Golden Egg Of Empathy’

“So it’s my band with Les Claypool from Primus, one of my favourite bands from back in the day – and it’s our third album. We decided to do an epic rock opera concept album which is about a robot that goes out of control and turns everything in the world into paper clips.”

That’s interesting! What does it sound like?

“It’s a fun record. The sound is, sort of, secondary. Basically, it’s quirky and weird.”

‘Power To The People: John & Yoko Live In NYC’ is in cinemas for a limited time from today (April 29). The Claypool Lennon Delirium release ‘The Great Parrot-Ox And The Golden Egg Of Empathy’ on May 15

The post How Sean Ono Lennon helped bring his parents’ greatest gig back to life appeared first on NME.

We are well and truly in the thick of a worldwide girl group renaissance. Heralded by the continued success of K-pop acts across the 2010s, this current decade has welcomed not only the return of all-female groups in the West, including NME Cover stars FLO and Say Now, but it has also given way to the ascension of those from Southeast Asia to the global stage for the very first time.

The latest act to break out of the region, and following in the footsteps of T-pop favourites 4Eve and Filipino stars BINI, are Indonesia’s powerhouse performers No Na. Comprising Baila (24 years old) and Shaz (23) from Jakarta, Christy (25) from Lombok, and Esther (24) from Bali, the quartet officially debuted last year and were named to the NME 100 of 2026 on the strength of their alluring blend of nostalgic R&B with their “island girl” roots, as they describe it.

Their heritage is front and centre in everything No Na release: traditional gamelan music is featured prominently in latest single ‘Rollerblade’, which also features lyrics in Indonesian; their music video for debut single ‘Shoot’ showcased the beautiful rice terraces of Bali; their group name is derived from the Indonesian word for young lady. “It always goes back to the reason why we’re here, like what motivates us and as we represent our country on the global stage,” Shaz explains. “That is what we hold on to strongly.”

That desire to wave their country’s flag high on the global stage has led the group to a bold direction, even this early on in their career. ‘Work’, their first single of 2026, eschewed their previous ’80s and ’90s influences for a modern, high-octane pump-up anthem – plus a video that kicked off with a viral feat of flexibility from Christy. “That switch-up was crazy for everybody,” Esther says. “When we dropped ‘Work’, everybody was like, ‘Oh my gosh, they can do more than just sing. They can dance.’ We’ve always wanted to be known as versatile artists, and ‘Work’ is basically that.”

Given the long training process they’ve gone through – one that started in Jakarta after they were scouted by 88rising in 2022, and moved to Los Angeles in 2024 – it’s no surprise that every member of No Na has emerged as an all-rounder. “Our confidence and energy also comes with [the fact that] 88rising hired us when we were all adults,” Esther says. “We’ve already lived lives before we came into this project, and we’ve already known our own personalities.”

Esther and Baila, you were both already in the music industry before joining No Na, having been on Indonesian Idol and Indonesian Idol Junior, respectively. Being more experienced, how was the training process for you?

Baila: “I feel like it was super hard for me to switch from being able to work alone to having to work with other people. It was hard in the beginning, but at the end, I cannot see myself working without [gestures at the other members]. Now it’s like I cannot go on the stage alone, I’m not gonna fucking do that. And I’m not gonna make songs alone. I need my girls with me.”

Esther: “Exactly the same for me. I struggled in the beginning. They know my struggle.”

Baila: “Also, she’s an only child.”

Esther: “Yeah, I’m an only child, so I hadn’t worked with people before. But through this journey, I learned a lot from them about myself, and I learned the true meaning of sisterhood. Ew.” [The rest of No Na laugh] “But genuinely, I think I was meant to live this life with these three girls. I’m very thankful to 88rising for introducing me to these three sisters that I have now.”

And Shaz and Christy, you two come from dance backgrounds. How different was it for you two when it came to the training?

Shaz: “I learned a lot with my singing, and learning about [my bandmates] more. I actually liked it because I get to explore so much more of myself that I didn’t get to explore before. And doing a lot of other genres that I haven’t known and finding our sound together as No Na. It was really a unique experience for me and I loved it.”

Christy: “For me, it was a really hard part [of] my life. The hardest part, because I started singing from zero. But now I’ve found my voice because of the training.”

Baila: “And us.”

Christy: “Yeah, they help me a lot.”

“We got to choose our songs, and we chose R&B. It’s just in our blood” – Baila

Even when you are exploring different genres, at the core of your sound is R&B. Where does that stem from?

Esther: “We grew up with R&B. And I think also [when we were] starting out, [during] the artist development three years ago, we were also singing a lot of R&B songs. We were paying homage to a lot of early-2000s artists as well. We practised TLC, we practised Ciara.”

Baila: “We got to choose our songs, and we chose R&B. It’s just in our blood.”

How did you work with 88rising to find and build upon this island girl sound and concept?

Esther: “We say ‘island’, they say ‘yes’.” [No Na laugh] “We communicate our wants, they communicate their wants, and we find a middle ground.”

Shaz: “We discussed a lot. We tried a lot of concepts. I remember before we debuted, we tried so many photoshoots just to see how we look in different concepts, but island girl was just what defined us, so that’s what we went for.”

Christy: “I remember, we were all together [thinking about what we] all have in common. And then, we said it together: ‘Island girl’.”

Baila: “Because Indonesia has like 17,000 different islands, so we’re all island girls.”

You really bring your Indonesian and Southeast Asian roots into your music. It’s in the lyrics, sound, outfits, dance…

Shaz: “Every time we do something, we always try to implement Indonesian elements. For example, before we make our [music videos], we have a discussion on what [we can add] that is very Indonesian or Southeast Asian. With ‘Work’, it was the traditional ceng-ceng instrument from Indonesia and the batik in our costumes.”

Being in a girl group isn’t easy, especially in this era of social media and parasocial relationships. How do you guys deal with the attention?

Esther: “I’m very into watching people’s reactions and what they like about it, what they don’t like about it. That way, we know for future releases and future projects what to do and what not to do, what people like and what people don’t like, while also protecting what we wanna do as artists. We’re very open to listening to what people say. But if it’s just coming from an ill-intentioned [place], we usually just…” [motions her hand over her head]

Baila: “Just know that we laugh at your hate comments.”

“Every time we do something, we always try to implement Indonesian elements” – Shaz

So what have you taken from what you’ve observed and how have you applied that to your releases?

Esther: “People really loved that we’re very Indonesian. We’ve shouted out our country multiple times. We’ve also showcased our beautiful cities and other places in Indonesia in our music videos, and that’s what kind of drove us into doing that more and making that a statement in every single release that we had.”

What parts of Indonesian culture have you not showcased yet, but would like to in the future?

Baila: “You know what I wanna try? I really want to try piring.”

Esther: “I was thinking the same thing!”

Shaz: “It’s a traditional dance from the Padang region and they do this…” [Esther passes Baila a plate to balance on her hand] “and they just dance with it on their hand.”

Esther: “I wanna showcase Indonesian food in our music videos. I don’t think we’ve done that before. More people need to know that we have really good food.”

Shaz: “For me, clothing. There are so many [types of] traditional clothing that we have, and because we have it different[ly] in every region, we just wanna show more and more.”

Christy: “I want people to know [that in] Indonesia we eat with our hands [without utensils]. People [are] gonna [be] like, ‘What?’”

Baila: “‘You eat with your hands?’ Yes, we do.”

Esther: “It’s [more] fun that way too.”

No Na will be turning one in less than a month. Did you ever imagine the group would be so successful in such a short time?

Baila: “This is all a surprise to us. Of course, we manifested for this to happen, but we didn’t actually think that it was gonna happen.”

Shaz: “And this soon!”

Baila: “Yeah, and we haven’t even turned one yet. We’ve barely started walking, but we’re so grateful for all the love and support.”

Esther: “And we still have a long way to go. As much as we feel like, ‘OK, this is a great start’, but we’re coming back for more.”

Baila: “Don’t get tired of us. We promise there’s more.”

No Na’s single ‘Rollerblade’ is out now via 88rising.

Photography: Toshio Ohno
Photography Assistance: Yumika Ikeda, Ryo Yamanaka
Producer: Shin Ohira
Production Management: Ippei “Tory” Fukuda, Rintaro Ito
Production: CEKAI
Retouch & Colour Grading: Defamer

The post No Na: the fiery R&B girl group bringing Indonesia to the world appeared first on NME.

Gaze out from the city quayside in Belém, Brazil, and there’s a lot to take in. To the north, the sprawling Baia de Marajo estuary stretches towards the mighty Atlantic Ocean. To the south, an epic blanket of green – the uppermost tip of the Brazilian Amazon, 60 per cent of all the world’s remaining tropical rainforest. To the east, in contrast, is the concrete skyline of the region’s urban capital. Home to 2.5million people, Belém’s waterside colonial old town is soon dwarfed by high-rise apartment blocks. Cutting through it all, and oozing Main Character Energy, the muddy Guamá River. More than a mile wide, it shapes both the landscape and the culture of Belém. Home to fishing canoes and monstrous cruise ships, its choppy waters represent a life-sustaining artery. This is life on the equator; life at the “gateway to the Amazon” – where modern human living and ancient biomes are locked in an increasingly heated bear hug.

It’s an oppressively humid Monday lunchtime in mid-November 2025. A rickety passenger boat, transporting a group of musicians, makes the short journey across the Guamá from Belém to Ilha do Combu. Three times the size of Glastonbury Festival, Combu is a forest island abundant in wildlife. Along the palm-lined banks, local Ribeirinhos – indigenous people – welcome visitors to boat-stop restaurants that rise out of the waves on tall wooden stilts. Bowls of thick savoury açaí and fresh guava fruit are handed to tourists – when the native howler monkeys don’t get there first.

For some of the diverse group of musicians that make up the newly formed multinational, multi-genre collective Flow, this could not feel farther from home. For others, this is their backyard. More, in fact – it’s ancestral soil they’re fighting to protect.

An interchanging number of songwriters, all distinguished in their own right, this mission-driven sisterhood has linked up with a unifying commitment to lift up stories of women and water worldwide. So it’s very deliberate they’re here in the Amazon right now. Across town, in a vibeless temporary conference centre, 50,000 besuited delegates are amassed for COP30 – the UN’s flagship climate change conference. A political forum intended to carve out a safer, healthier and fairer reality for every human on the planet, not just here in South America. [Hardly a spoiler: it’s not excelling]. But while the circus of power is in town, Flow are determined to have their message heard – in the corridors of power and the cultural communities of the city.

Forget supergroups, “we’re building a ‘super dynamic’” says Zimbabwean-British powerhouse Shingai, ex-Noisettes, champion of African artivism, and one of Flow’s members.

There’s the willowly Jaloo – a self-produced DIY artist and pioneer of Sci-fi Brega (an updated synth-pop and electronica take on northern Brazil’s ’60s rhythms) whose vulnerability, style and allyship for queer communities have earned her a devoted Latin American following. “There’s no straight white man behind me and what I do,” she asserts. “Particularly when I share my difficult times, I think people connect with me through those emotions.”

Madame Gandhi, former MIA drummer, from LA via Mumbai, whose innovative drive to promote social justice and nature connection has taken her to stages at TED to Burning Man. Rising Brazilian star Bebé Salvego, the youngest of the family, injects the soul of jazz and the spirit of rap. Celebrated British-Bangladeshi vocalist Sohini Alam, songwriter and vocalist with bands Khyio and Grrrl, meanwhile, explains why she’s here: “I don’t want my daughter to be fighting the same battles I am.”

And, Keila – energy commander-in-chief – vocalist from Belém, Brazil, is known for her high-octane tecnobrega, whose bold style and campaigning (against exploitation mining companies and industrial agriculture) means she’s a firm local hero.

“I don’t want my daughter to be fighting the same battles I am” – Sohini Alam

They make for a formidable crew. With five shows in four days, Flow’s women are here in Amazonia to make a noise. Briefly, though, here on Combu, there’s a rare moment to take a pause.

“We’re very used to being near this water at all moments in our lives,” says Keila. “When we’re happy, when we’re sad. When we need something. To us, it is recovery. When I speak, I think a lot about Indigenous communities, about the original peoples, about the genocide, suffering, and struggle of those who protect the forest and protect these places.”

Rewind 12 hours, and the scene is the opposite of nature’s restorative calm. Where other cities are tucked up in bed early on a Sunday evening, Old Town Belém is bouncing. It’s approaching midnight at Casa Apoena, an old converted mansion and legendary cultural venue usually found hosting carimbó and samba nights. Tonight, it feels like a rustic backyard party – buckets of iced beers passed between people. And it’s packed – at capacity before soundcheck.

Locally, word has spread rapidly about Flow. Following a short spell of rehearsals in São Paulo, their weekend kicked off with shows and talks in the official “blue zone” at the climate conference. The musicians’ presence was met with a mixture of bewilderment and excitement from blazer-wearing delegates more used to being handed free coffee from an information stall than having a singer crash-land into their lap (a Friday gig highlight is Shingai clearing the assembled crowd to somersault across the conference room floor). These spaces are not used to the women of Flow, and that’s the point. They depart, with an invite from organisers to the next global gathering in late 2026.

Online, chatter about their provocative presence grows – driven by the fanatical followings of the Brazilians in the group. Jaloo, for example, can’t walk a few metres without a selfie request. On TikTok, someone cheekily brands them the ‘Spice Girls da COP’, which soon catches on. “Which Spice Girl am I?” responds Keila with a wicked smile, “Which is the crazy one?”

All that means anticipation for their Casa Apoena appearance is high. The house lights go down, and 300 camera-phone lights go on as Keila, Sohini, Bebé, Shingai and Jaloo walk from a backstage balcony down through the audience to the stage.

The show is a vibey celebration, each artist taking a turn to lead while the others become their backing band. A team, sure, but also a healthy competition. It peaks with Shingai cartwheeling and Keila conducting the crowd from the heart of the dancefloor.

The music is as diverse and wild as its theme and creators. When the recorded Flow album arrives in November, it will also feature contributions from Nadine Shah, Maxine Peake and Charlotte Church. Shingai’s track ‘Mhondoro’ is the infectious first taste – all ‘Mhande’ handclaps, distorted guitar and a mountainous chorus – and will be shared this week (April 30). “Flow gave us the freedom to explore our cross-cultural experiences,” she says. “I recorded my piece in Zimbabwe with local musicians. Shortly afterwards, I was rehearsing it with the other artists here in Brazil, which felt quite magical.

“My hope is that the music created through Flow becomes something joyful yet impossible to ignore” – Shingai

“My hope is that the music created through Flow becomes something joyful yet impossible to ignore,” she continues. “Something that resonates across cultures and conversations. We are building our own ‘Ancient Futures’ and the soundtrack is already cooking nicely.” A documentary film – there’s a crew out here in the Amazon – will also arrive in the autumn, before touring around the world.

There’s one final stop on their Brazilian adventure, a show at Casa Mídia Ninja. In tune with the change-making spirit of Flow, the venue is an activism and content hub formed as a response to the exclusion of youth and underrepresented voices in traditional Brazilian media.

The performance, once again, shifts up a gear, with the centrepiece a chest-beating speech from Keila chiding the absence of major musicians speaking out on behalf of people and the planet. As the crowd continues the party into the night, backstage, the Flow artists fall into each others’ arms. Mission-accomplished – for the moment.

“Flow shows what can happen when women are given the space to write about subjects beyond the narrow expectations often placed on them in mainstream music,” says Shingai later. “It’s refreshing. It’s necessary. And honestly, it’s about time.”

Flow’s ‘Mhondoro’ is out on 30 April via EarthSonic. 

The post Flow: the multinational, multi-genre sisterhood dubbed the ‘Spice Girls of the Amazon’ appeared first on NME.

Yves is pop’s ascendant experimental cool girl with a rebellious streak. You wouldn’t know it immediately – when NME meets her at her label’s office in Seoul in early April, she’s soft-spoken, almost shy; “I’m nervous,” she shares through a smile early on in our two hours together. But if you look closer at her and her work, you’ll find plenty of subtle defiance and a willingness to, as she puts it, “break the mould”.

Right now, the 29-year-old is in the early years of her second artistic life – one that’s driven by her desire to do exactly what she wants, but is also, in part, a reaction to the system she had to participate in during her first, as one-twelfth of the K-pop girl group LOONA. Their seven-year run – defined by a sound that was both dreamy and empowering, cult appeal (captured in a collaboration with Grimes) and passionate fandom – came to a tumultuous end in 2023 when they succeeded in terminating their contracts with their then-label BlockBerry Creative. Most of the members went on to re-debut in new groups, as part of either LOOSSEMBLE or ARTMS. Yves, though, chose to go it alone. Instead of finding an established K-pop label to call her home, she veered into uncharted territory by signing to Paix Per Mil, the independent label founded by Korean hip-hop and R&B producer Millic.

“I wanted to make the music that I want and be able to share that with the rest of the world,” she tells NME, sitting in a swivel chair, a blue LA Dodgers baseball cap – its side adorned with her logo of a red apple, a fruit she’s long associated with rebellion – pulled down low over her face. “I feel like I owe that to myself – to be able to keep trying what I want to do and keep discovering that.” The members of LOONA were encouraged to write their own songs and were given practice rooms to work from, but Yves found there was little opportunity for the results to be released. “As it is with the usual K-pop pattern, the company would pick the concept and the song and give it to the group,” she explains. “So most of the time, we would just receive songs. It was a one-way path.”

So far, doing what she wants – and defying expectations – has paid off for Yves. Her fourth and latest EP ‘Nail’ cements her reputation as a versatile artist who can turn her hand to any genre, with hyperpop and house, pop-punk and indie already in her repertoire. Eschewing K-pop’s trends and moods to follow her own vision has earned her critical acclaim (including back-to-back spots on NME’s lists of the best K-pop songs of 2024 and 2025) and the respect of other artists. PinkPantheress jumped on 2025’s hyperpop-adjacent ‘Soap’ before inviting her on the remix of ‘Stars’, while past NME Cover star Underscores asked Yves to remix ‘Do It’ earlier this year.

After Yves signed with Paix Per Mil in 2024, she remarked to NME that the “company never had an idol” on its roster. In the two years since, though, her image has subtly shifted from that of a typical K-pop idol to an artist separate from the scene. In her view, though, she’s not the only one that’s happened to. “The last time we talked, the differentiation between idol and artist was a lot clearer,” she reasons, something she feels is no longer the case.

“There’s a lot of idols who will be part of the creative process or do a lot of songwriting. For me, it’s not really important whether I’m an idol or an artist, but more that I’m a person who has, compared to back then, a wider music spectrum and is working to create bigger things.” Categorisation is something she shrugs off on all levels. Online, fans use different labels to define her music: K-pop, indie, electronic. To Yves, that’s not the point.

“I’m trying to put out the music that feels right to me and the best music that it can be,” she explains. “In K-pop in general, it’s evolved so much that it’s very hard to strictly define and find those lines. I know people are very comfortable when things are more black and white, but I just hope they think of me as just an artist, or just Yves. I don’t want any one genre to define who I am.” As she happily notes, though, her musical spectrum has expanded since signing to Paix Per Mil, her readiness to explore new sounds reflective of her enormous passion for music. “Music isn’t just a big part of my life – it’s basically become what my life is,” she says.

“It’s not really important whether I’m an idol or an artist, but that I’m a person who has a wider music spectrum and is working to create bigger things”

Even when she was a child growing up in the coastal city of Busan as Ha Soo-young, music occupied a lot of Yves’ time. She and her older sister (who is also now a songwriter and producer called Min!n) would spend hours entertaining themselves with Korean music shows while their parents were at work. “We would sing along to the people on TV and even print out lyrics and do our own little concerts to each other,” Yves recalls. “I feel like that’s how I came to love music and be able to find the enjoyment of what music can be.”

She decided early on that she wanted to be a singer, but her mother wasn’t so keen. “There’s this big memory I have from when I was little where I had a conversation with my mum where I was in my school uniform, crying,” Yves smiles. “I said, ‘If I don’t become a singer, then there’s nothing else that I want to do.’”

By the time of that tearful conversation, the budding artist had already been skipping English classes and extra study sessions after school, using the time to burn CDs to submit for auditions. When she got invited to meet with labels, “I would ride the bus to Seoul to go to [them], and then come back without my mum knowing,” she recalls, that rebellious spirit shining through again. “That’s how passionate I was at the time. When I’m looking back on those moments, I think that if I didn’t have such a strong desire and love for music and becoming a singer back then, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

Daring to follow her own beat is in Yves’ DNA. Despite her mum’s resistance, she was very much like her daughter. “I discovered later that, when my mum was younger, she bought a guitar behind my grandmother’s back and would work on her own music,” she shares, lighting up. Her dad, who died when she was young, was part of that headstrong mix. “From what I’ve heard, he was a very ‘my way’ type of guy, and I feel like that’s really come out through me.”

While Yves’ solo work is a collaborative process with her label, she’s steered its direction from the start. She often shares PowerPoints with her label of styling and visual references to help build up the concepts of each release – the one for ‘Nail’ centred around the theme of a club, and Yves is “proud” to have seen her ideas come to life in her and her dancers’ performance outfits. In the studio, she works closely with the producer IOAH, crafting projects that tell her story with intention.

The first Yves EP, ‘Loop’, captured her journey of breaking free from the cycles of the K-pop system she’d previously been tied to. Its follow-up, ‘I Did’, was about Yves finding peace in her solo career, and enjoyed an unexpected viral success in ‘Dim’, TikTok creators using its beat-driven instrumental finale to soundtrack the moment before an unforeseen or unfortunate event. It was used in over 400,000 videos on the platform – including one posted by ABBA – and hit Number One on its Viral 50 chart. ‘Dim’ unexpectedly skyrocketing was “a fascinating experience” for Yves, but also somewhat of a double-edged sword. “Through that, a lot of people basically thought, ‘Wow, you’ve made it!’” she recalls. “But personally, I feel like there’s still so much that I want to show and that I’m not completely the artist or person I want to be just yet.”

“Music isn’t just a big part of my life – it’s basically become what my life is”

The “inner conflict” she felt from ‘Dim’’s success fed into ‘Soap’ and her third EP ‘Soft Error’. “From a literal standpoint, if you use soap, it shows what’s really underneath,” she explains. “I tried to use that meaning to really show who I am, rather than what other people think of me.” The song samples ‘Sugar Water Cyanide’ by Rebecca Black, another artist who shed one musical life to embark on new adventures.

And now, ‘Nail’ marks a “turning point” for the rising soloist. She earned her first writing credit in her solo discography on ‘Soft Error’’s ‘Ex Machina’, and now this record is packed with Yves co-writes. Bouncing from house to alternative R&B and alt-pop with ease and low-slung allure, it captures in a non-linear way “a life cycle from birth to death and then beyond that” – exploring themes that, in Yves’ opinion, are common if not deeply explored in K-pop. “I took the challenge to go deeper than what was being represented [elsewhere].” The Lolo Zouaï-featuring title track, for instance, plays on the similar pronunciations of “nail” in English and “tomorrow” in Korean to create an ode to letting go and liberating yourself from worries about both the past and the future.

The EP’s closer, ‘Birth’, though, is perhaps the strongest indicator of where Yves is at right now. “Be born again,” she whispers between bubbling electronics. “Be born in your own light.” It’s a direct nod to the rebirth she’s been through since leaving LOONA and starting out anew on her own. “You can always start again,” Yves affirms. “There’s always another chance.”

Yves’ ‘Nail’ EP is out now via Paix Per Mil.

Listen to Yves’ exclusive playlist to accompany The Cover below on Spotify or on Apple Music here.

Words: Rhian Daly
Photography: Wonyoung Ki
Styling: Team IBAEKILHO, Kim Jieun
Styling assistance: Kim Junha, Kim Jaesoon
Hair: Yoonji Son
Makeup: Oh Seongseok
Label: Paix Per Mil

The post Yves’ new chapter: a K-pop star’s quiet rebellion appeared first on NME.