Cuculi in Conversation: Roland George Harrad
Songwriter sits down for a chat with Beth ahead of debut album release & launch gig
Bristol-based songwriter Roland George Harrad reached out to me a few months ago having heard 13 Moons, an album by my band Hands of the Heron, and thus we began an ongoing exchange of enthusiasm and affirmation as fellow musicians that I’ve found to be constantly rewarding and insightful. When I heard that he was releasing his debut album Full Spiral (out mid-April), I was thrilled - and offered to help curate his launch gig at The Greenbank Pub in Bristol. That gig is now happening tonight (14 April), and from what I’ve heard so far, both the launch and the album are going to be stacked full of close vocal harmonies and heartfelt lyricism underpinned by satisfyingly unpredictable jazz-infused arrangements. There are moments of Beach Boys-esque ironic buoyancy sitting alongside a mastery of melody akin to Joni Mitchell, and throughout all of it, a subtlety interplay of pathos and hope that I recognise from the modern folk-ish songcraft of Villagers and Fionn Regan. Needless to say, I love it, and I’m expecting it to be a regular on my stereo for a long time to come.
We met up at The Greenbank for a planning chat earlier this week, along with Suzi MacGregor who’ll be opening the show and contributing backing vocals to Roly’s set. While Suzi tested out the piano, filling the quiet air of the brick-walled room with sonorous melodies and unassuming beauty, I asked Roly if he’d be up for giving us some background into his creative process, and the stories behind Full Spiral. He obliged, with all the honesty, wit and vulnerability I’ve come to expect from interactions with him.
Beth: You’re releasing your debut album! Can you tell me a bit about how you made Full Spiral?
Roland: Well, it’s a collection of songs written maybe over the last 10-12 years, some of them are pretty old, and it was recorded over lockdown. I was feeling a bit listless, as I’m sure many people were, and I was advised to get stuck in and just record these songs that I’ve had knocking around for so long. And as I was doing that, I found myself writing more and it worked its way into being about 12 tracks which is, you know, classic album length. So I started getting some balls rolling with close friends who were in the realm of production. And during that time of recording, other musician friends of mine were also twiddling their thumbs, and very kindly contributed their work to the album. There’s a string section, vibraphone, drums and bass - it really kind of snowballed in this wonderful way, remotely as well.
B: So the pandemic was a fruitful time for you?
R: In that regard, yeah it was. It had its low moments as well; I struggled with my mental health quite a lot when I was doing the final phases, so a few of the songs touch on that. The songs are good for me to sing. I wrote them because they make me feel good, and the hope is that they’ll make people feel good for them to hear, and so listeners will relate to the content - the importance of hope and love.
I love the idea of doing the simple stuff in interesting ways. The reason why clichés are clichés is become on some level they’re true. That’s why they get tired, when they go ‘oh, all you need is love’ - that’s because it’s said a lot, but it’s said a lot because it’s true. What I try to do in my songs is to reinvent the sentiment of these cliches, of the strength of love and the importance of hope.
B: To find ways of saying it so that you actually hear it.
R: Yes, exactly. To find ways of saying it so I actually hear it, and actually feel it as well. And with that, the hope is to reach people in a similar way.
B: That’s a really interesting take on how to communicate an age-old adage, something that could be so familiar that we don’t even hear it anymore. In my own music, I always come back to the idea of stillness. In every song I’m telling myself in a different way: find a way to be still.
R: And in that, there’s a use and application of silence that’s so important in a song or a piece of music. It’s subtly powerful, as contradictory as that might sound.
B: It’s true - there’s a way to achieve silence by using noise to create a boundary for time. With specific, structured noise, it’s easier to hear the gaps between things. I think Full Spiral does that really well. Are there particular people that you listened to while you were making it, or any lifelong influences you drew on?
R: An album that really affected me a huge amount was Fionn Regan’s album The End of History. He recorded it when he was 18 or 19 and it’s just so raw - he was a kid, not thinking about who those songs are for. He’s just making music and it’s what matters to him and it’s so beautiful. I love that. And if I dare say, Jack Johnson’s In Between Dreams is what got me picking up a guitar for the first time [Suzi, from the piano: I love that album!] Yeah, I love that album too. It’s very overplayed, but that’s because they’re good songs. People like Labi Siffre, Gillian Welch, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon - all big hitters for me. And some of the more old school barbershop stuff like The Vagabonds and The Inkspots. I absolutely love those close harmonies, they’re my favourite thing.
B: It’s evident, listening to your album, how much you’ve absorbed those close vocal harmonies. And I hear you’re going to have some of that on the launch gig at Bristol’s Greenbank Pub with your pals from Tryani Collective?
R: Yes! The rehearsals have been so beautiful. I’ve been quite moved at times, just hearing… there’s something very special about hearing music you’ve made played back to you by people, and particularly doing that with friends as well, that’s really wonderful.
B: Speaking of friends - in this very room we’re sitting in now, you did an impromptu duet with Tom Calladine, singing Fionn Regan together spontaneously at Presence Open Mic. It was magical - are we seeing the beginnings of a future Simon & Garfunkel pairing, and do you have plans to make a project? If not, can I commission you please?
R: I thought that was really great, just a wonderful off-the-cuff moment. And I absolutely love that song, ‘Be Good or Be Gone’. I loved it. I’ve never called someone to the stage before and had to have them remind me of their name. It was really funny. Like, “I’m now going to be joined by… um… this guy!” It was a lovely treat, and I’d love to do more with him.
B: There’s obviously a deep connection with music running through everything you do. Has this always been the case for you?
R: I’ve always loved music. I’ve always been performing. I’d sing ‘Little Donkey’ to anyone who was listening when I was a little kid. I used to drive my parents bonkers in the back of the car playing improvised kazoo sonatas for as long as I would be allowed.
B: That might have to be the tagline of this interview.
R: Yeah, that’s my second album.
B: I think you might actually get away with that.
[much chuckling]
R: Yeah, music is my first love, for sure.
Roland plays at Bristol’s Greenbank Pub on 14 April with support from Suzi MacGregor & Stevie Toddler. Tickets & info available here: https://hdfst.uk/E87504