In the track Late To You, from English singer-songwriter Keaton Henson’s latest album House Party, he apologises to his wife for not getting to her fast enough, for all the things that weathered him before they met:
“And if you should ever tire of being my everything
I’ll understand and turn these hands to writing
But I can’t promise you won’t be in every word”
The track embodies the emotional devastation that is Henson’s signature style even as balancing his privacy and the confessional nature of his music has long been a challenge for him.
“It’s an intriguing dilemma for me,” he said in an interview. “…Because I highly value my privacy and have no desire to be famous or have my personal life exposed.” Indeed, because Henson is not just a musician, but also a visual artist and poet.
Henson is best known for his beautifully fragile and personal explorations that delve into anxiety, separation and loss since rising to fame in 2012 with his debut album, Dear.
House Party, in contrast, is an energetic and clever compilation of alternative anthems ignited by captivating and bright guitar hooks. Playing around with bigger upbeat sounds, introducing a full rock band with jangling melodies, it is a whole new Keaton.
Introduced as a concept album, House Party follows an artist who has hollowed himself out over a long career in the name of success, an alternate universe version of him who is left empty and lonely from climbing to the top.
Henson’s definition of success is quite different too. “…It revolves around leaving behind a body of work that holds substance, providing a glimpse into the essence of my soul.” If someone can listen to my music after I’m gone and truly understand who I was, then I consider that a success, he said.
By venturing into the concept of an extroverted alter-ego, the album focuses on the idea that a musician can encompass multiple identities. If this version of Keaton is imagined, one who pursued the success he now feels diminished by, how would he appear?
The album’s opening track, I’m Not There, delivers a timeless rock sound with hints of country influences. Songs like Envy and The Meeting Place showcase Henson’s amplified vocals and guitar skills, reminiscent of a spirited teenager jamming in a garage. The vibrant rhythm breaks free from the melancholy that Henson’s music has been associated with.
But at heart, Henson is an artist, though not melancholic, but with a deep connect to his craft. This, and his anxiety can make it difficult to navigate the expectation in the music industry to write songs as well as perform them. “I recently realised that performing on stage just isn’t my strong suit,” he said. “I thrive when I’m alone in my room, pouring my heart and soul into my craft.”
Yet, that also worries him. “It seems like nowadays, it’s not enough to be a performer,” he said. “You have to be a personality.” It’s as if being relatable online has become an art form in itself, he said.
“What will happen to those brilliant songwriters who may not be naturally adept at projecting themselves in a relatable way?” said Henson. “Can’t we separate the two?”
Edited excerpts:
What is your creative process when it comes to songwriting? Do you view composing melodies and writing lyrics as separate crafts, or do both aspects go hand in hand?
I find it interesting that composing classical Instrumental music feels like a different process for me compared to writing songs. When composing, it feels like a slow and detailed building process, while writing songs feel more spontaneous, as if they just flow out. Sometimes a song comes together quickly, almost in the length of the song itself, and then I refine and edit it.
Although they feel like different things, I try to approach songwriting as a unified process where the melody and lyrics naturally fit together. The tune usually comes to me first, and as I develop the chords, the lyrics naturally develop alongside them. I aim for the lyrics to naturally go with the chords so they happen at a similar time.
I believe there are two distinct approaches to creating, which I have discussed with various musician friends. One approach can be described as being a mad scientist, where you experiment, dismantle, and reconstruct ideas until they become something magical. The other approach involves having conversations with a higher power or source of inspiration, where ideas seem to come from an unknown place, and you must be receptive enough to capture them.
It’s fascinating to observe how some of the greatest bands, like Radiohead, embody both of these approaches. For instance, Jonny Greenwood represents the mad scientist, while Thom Yorke seems to have conversations with a higher power. It is this combination that contributes to their greatness.
The album artwork for House Party is visually captivating and evocative. Can you share the concept behind the artwork and how it complements the music considering this is the first time you handed over the artwork reins to another?
I wanted the new album to be distinctly different, something that would be immediately noticeable. Knowing that I have my own artistic style, I realised I couldn’t avoid infusing it with my own essence if I created the artwork myself. So, I decided to entrust the task to someone whose work I deeply admire, Tristan Pigott, an incredible painter. We discussed the vision for the artwork extensively. I wanted it to be vibrant and clean, with a pop aesthetic, but also slightly unsettling, creating a sense of unease. We drew inspiration from symbolic elements found in old Holbein paintings, where objects represent deeper meanings.
For example, in the artwork, I’m depicted holding the head of the real me, symbolising the pop persona having overcome or suppressed the authentic self. The head has tissue coming out, suggesting it’s not real, playing with the concepts of facades and masks. Additionally, we aimed to evoke a religious undertone, infusing the image with a sense of reverence.
Once we had these conversations, I gave Tristan the freedom to bring the vision to life, trusting in his exceptional skills as one of the world’s greatest painters.
Many listeners find your music to be incredibly relatable and emotionally resonant. How do you navigate the fine line between expressions of vulnerability and privacy when crafting such personal songs?
It’s an intriguing dilemma for me because I highly value my privacy and have no desire to be famous or have my personal life exposed. However, the music I create happens to be confessional in nature, making it challenging to find a balance. I’ve been striving to navigate this balance and ask myself how I can keep aspects of my life to myself while sharing my emotions and vulnerabilities through my music.
I’ve come to realise that I can choose which parts of myself to share. I can be completely honest and open about my sadness and anxiety, but I reserve other aspects, such as my sense of humour or my love for gardening, as more private.
Despite revealing my deepest flaws and feelings through my music, I still feel a sense of protection because I don’t actively engage in daily social media updates, sharing my home or trying to appear relatable and funny. This choice provides me with a sense of safety and maintains a level of privacy that I cherish.
What is your definition of success? What is your purpose in making music?
My definition of success revolves around leaving behind a body of work that holds substance, providing a glimpse into the essence of my soul. If someone can listen to my music after I’m gone and truly understand who I was, then I consider that a success. It’s about creating a comprehensive collection of songs that make sense as a whole.
Additionally, the ability to focus solely on making music without the need for multiple jobs or distractions holds importance to me. I came to realise that many preconceived notions of success, like selling out big venues or winning awards, ultimately offer little fulfilment. They serve as benchmarks that, once achieved, only lead to setting new goals further away.
Therefore, for me, success lies in looking back at my body of work and feeling a sense of coherence. While I may always want to make tweaks to chords or lyrics, I mostly feel content knowing that my work has meaning and resonance, which brings a sense of personal fulfilment and success.
Do you think it’s possible for a singer-songwriter to be a recording artist only and not a performing artist to be successful?
I’m really trying my best to navigate this challenge. It can be tough. You see, I’m fortunate enough to have various creative outlets like painting, composing, writing poetry, and creating books. I count my blessings for that.
However, the music industry has this expectation that you not only write songs but also perform them. And to be honest, that’s where it gets difficult for me. I recently realised that performing on stage just isn’t my strong suit. I pushed myself hard, thinking maybe I could do it, but it was not my natural inclination. I thrive when I’m alone in my room, pouring my heart and soul into my craft.
But here’s the thing that worries me. It seems like nowadays, it’s not enough to be a performer; you have to be a personality. You have to be an influencer. Many opportunities in the music industry, like record labels and press coverage, hinge on how many followers you have on social media.
It’s as if being relatable online has become an art form in itself. And that’s where the concern arises. What will happen to those brilliant songwriters who may not be naturally adept at projecting themselves in a relatable way? Can’t we separate the two?
I mean, not every great songwriter is also a great talker or social media star. It’s disheartening to think that we might miss out on incredible artists just because they don’t fit the mould of an Instagram influencer. It’s a worrisome and somewhat scary thought to contemplate.
You do not tour or do many live performances, but you did three live shows leading up to the release of House Party. But keeping in mind your global reach, would you plan to perform in Asia?
I have a genuine desire to visit Asia and explore everything it has to offer. There’s so much I would love to do there. However, when it comes to performing, I’m not entirely sure.
Those past shows were quite interesting for me because I’ve undergone some significant changes as a person. I’m much happier and healthier now compared to the last time I attempted live performances. I had hoped it would be easier this time around, but it turned out to be even more challenging than before. So, I’m uncertain about what the future holds in terms of live performances. But regardless, I would love to come to Asia.
Manisha Maity is a music journalist from Calcutta.