Interview: Lazy Day’s Tilly Scantlebury

Lazy Day’s Tilly Scantlebury: “I’ve always been better at writing when I’m not meant to be.” Photo: Eleanor Crewes

The Lazy Day driving force on their debut album, using rhythm to inspire lyrics, and being explicit in your songwriting

Some lyrics aspire to hit you in the face with their message, others to wash over you without leaving a trace of their true meaning. Whether knowingly or not, that decision of what to reveal versus how much to conceal is a choice that all songwriters must make. For Tilly Scantlebury, the creative force behind ascendant indie-pop act Lazy Day, it’s a balance they’ve negotiated flawlessly on debut album, Open The Door.

A reflection on queer life and domesticity, Scantlebury has drawn inspiration from a number of sources. Bright Yellow, a vivid explosion of synth-soaked gorgeousness, was influenced by their PhD in Queer American Art, specifically the photos of Catherine Opie. Killer, propelled by a frenzied rhythm, is an homage to the central relationship in the television series, Hannibal. Of course, the minutiae of everyday life also creep into the themes and sonic palette, such as on Getting Good’s dissection of dedicating time and energy to unhelpful habits.

Taken as a whole, these vignettes and daydreams stand together as a powerful and honest portrait of modern life, one that compelled us to track down Scantlebury for a chat about the album and their writing process…

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With your work and studies, has it always been the case that have to make time to write songs, or will you fit everything around songwriting?

“My life and songwriting have a very co-dependent, but also very understanding, relationship with each other, which is kind of a contradiction. By that I mean that, if I need to do it then I need to do it, and not much else gets in the way. But also, I can’t not do my life, and actually, the more life I do, the more I want to write.

“I’ve always been better at writing when I’m not meant to be. For me, writing in its best way happens when it is desire-led. It’s not thinking, it’s not in my brain, it’s in my body. That first bit of doing is not theoretical or intellectual. It’s very much driven, like an impulse, which makes me sound slightly deranged, but I just mean that it often happens when I’m not thinking about it, when I haven’t consciously sat down to do it. Maybe I’m sitting here having to write a paper, or about to teach, or I’m in the park on a walk, and I’m like, ‘Oh, gosh.’”

How does that impulse manifest itself? Is it that you’ll just start with a melody or you’ll have to write a lyric down?

“It’s really dependent. All of the songs, especially on the record, have come through different channels. For example, I’m thinking about a song called Killer. That came because I was scouring YouTube, mindlessly looking at drum sounds, trying to program something. I don’t remember why, but I found this amazing drum video of this 70s, really dead, drum pattern.

“Without thinking, I ripped it off YouTube and started chopping it up. I could hear it all in my brain. Often, but not always, it’s the rhythm of something, whether it be drums, guitar, or something else, that is the thing that is propelling me forward. The kind of movement of something is what’s moving me. We did then re-record the drums on Killer.”

Lazy Day’s Tilly Scantlebury: “Rhythm and groove and movement have been really key.” Photo: Eleanor Crewes

The rhythm section is something that really stands out on the record, so it’s not surprising that it was such an important focus…

“I’m so pleased that you picked up on the rhythm of the record. That’s one of the things that has definitely driven the songwriting process. Whether it be a drum pattern… I’m obsessively chopping up and looping and reworking, which then drives the lyrics, which then drives the pattern of the words.

“Or, if I’ve got the words first, I’ll program the drums such that the kick is landing in the right place, in conjunction with the syllables. If I don’t have the words yet, and I’m playing guitar, I’m humming and I’m feeling when it feels good, when it’s a repetition, or it’s in a certain pattern, and then I’m fitting words that go with the rhythm. So rhythm and groove and movement have been really key for this batch of songs.”

Can that rhythm also inspire the theme of the lyrics?

“Yes, for sure. For example, I’m just keeping with Killer… I was very taken with this TV show. I can’t really account for its quality, but it’s called Hannibal and I really enjoyed it. But rather than the script, the plot, or the acting, what I was motivated by was the central relationship between Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. I just knew that was something that I wanted to write about. That isn’t an intellectual idea that is like, ‘Oh, this would be cool.’

“As soon as I had that drum pattern and I started getting that bassline, I was like, ‘That is everything that I felt about that relationship,’ which is slightly menacing, slightly sensual, slightly unnerving, but full of dynamism, pace, and excitement. So the theme may have existed before, but I banked the theme until then.

“That was also the first time that I’ve written outside my own, personal experience. It’s the first time I’ve ever put myself in someone else’s shoes, but with quite a lot of these songs, I’ll write it, and then it’s only afterwards where I’m like, ‘Oh.’ After the fact, I just saw myself in this relationship, which is an exciting queer-coded, love/hate thing. I could see myself reflected in it, or I wanted to. So even when things feel removed from you, I think for me, anyway, it was cool to finally realise that I had more skin in the game than that intellectual idea.”

Are there also times when you’ll write the lyrics first? Are you someone who carries a notebook around in case you think of a good line?

“I have a Notes app on my phone where I’ll write. Sometimes I’ll overhear someone say something, and I’ll be like, ‘That’s really good.’ Or I’ll be having a good conversation with my wife, or a friend, or someone from my family, and I’ll be very antisocial… I do have a notebook which I’ve started. I’m finally commuting to work and I’ve started this journal.

“For a lot of these songs from the record, it didn’t start with specific lyrics, but it did always come from knowing that there was something bigger that I wanted to say; not a specific, lyric, but an overarching theme, an overarching goal that would house these songs and always show me the way forward. That sounds slightly spiritual, I don’t mean it like that, I just mean it was a fantastic framing device.”

Lazy Day’s Tilly Scantlebury: “There’s a push and pull between being really explicit and letting people have space to interpret.” Photo: Valentina Concordia

With both that theme and your lyrics, do you want people to explicitly know what they mean? Do you want people to hear your lyrics and understand them and that theme, or do you like it to be a little opaque?

“At the beginning, I’m not really thinking about a listener at all. I’m thinking about what it is that is motivating me, what are my concerns? And then, as it snowballs, as it goes on, you get one song, you get two songs, and then you’re finally thinking about this bigger thing. Then, I do start thinking about the listener and I hope these songs are a bridge between us.

“I do become excited by thinking about how they might perceive what I’ve done, not in a scary way, actually more from where a listener is standing, how might their view be different on what I’ve done? At its best, music and all forms of art can be transportative, such that you look from a different point of view, and that’s the same with the listener. I’m so excited by what they might read into it, and where they stand, who they are, what their concerns are, which is a slightly opaque or interpretive position.

“But I do think that in being an artist with something to say, I’m also proud to have some of the themes, especially when it comes queerness, or queer family-making/queer domesticity… I want that to be something that either I talk about in an interview, or that is explicit in the songs, or in any of the promo or visuals that I do. There’s a push and pull between being really explicit and letting people have space to interpret. So it’s both. I can’t wait to play on tour and to have those conversations about what it means to someone else – that relational push and pull between the song, me, and the listener, that will be really cool.”

Does wanting to have explicit representations of queer life ever lead you to change your lyrics in order to make the subject matter clearer?

“I don’t think I’ve needed to for a long time now. I’ve been really proud and excited about where I stand. You know, it’s definitely hard sometimes, but I don’t feel like I’m hiding anything. When I was younger and I was writing, I’d sometimes obscure the meaning and the words would become muddled, but now, if I want to say something, I think I’ll say it. I don’t do a retrospective or retroactive un-inhibiting or un-abstracting process

“But I think there’s also a really exciting thing that comes with abstraction. For example, Bright Yellow, to me, that is quite an explicit song about queer representation. But also, there’s a narrative there. I’m trying to tell the listener the experience of what happened when I saw these photographs and I saw myself, a kind of final moment of reflection. But equally, someone might hear that and not necessarily take that from it.”

Plus, you’ll always have listeners who are attracted to a melody or the way words sound together rather than their meaning…

“That’s true. In that song, that word ‘photograph,’ I loved singing it. I needed to express what happened to me when I saw those photographs, and what a pleasure to sing that word. So actually, the pleasure of the storytelling, the pleasure of the singing, the pleasure of the word, they all become the same thing in the end, and it’s about feeling bold enough to do that.”

We watched your TikTok post about the song Getting Good and you said that you had to, ‘Beat the demo.’ Does that mean that you are very meticulous when it comes to the finished sound?

“With every song on the record, except the final song, All The Things That I Love, I made a demo in my home studio. Some could be mixed and sent off. Some were something concrete, something rambunctious and a bit nuts, and you could hear the song in the demo – all of the lyrics, all the melodies, everything all done – but I needed to go into a studio to make that really come alive. But every song had a demo that I poured myself into, such that I was creating the sonic worlds in which they would inhabit.

“And because I’d been thinking about everything, the syllables of the words, or the guitar sound, or even something as intense as panning those guitar sounds, I became really attached to all of those demos, and increasingly excited the more I made. I became way more interested in production.

“At the same time as demoing the album at home, I was finishing writing my PhD. That push and pull between needing to do two big projects was so helpful to me. As soon as I got stuck on a guitar sound or a lyric, I’d just switch it and go and do some reading or some writing. The same thing, if I couldn’t finish this bit of a chapter, I would pick up my guitar or I’d put my headphones on. That meant that the world that I was creating was sonic, and rooted in songwriting and production, but equal to that, it was thematic.”

What impact did that have?

“It was about saying something that’s bigger than just me. It was cumulative and that was really exciting. Needing to beat the demo became something important to me, because the demos had found such a special home at home. It was about the audio quality, it was about the performances, all of those things. But also it was making another home. It was about making them bigger, better and bolder, or smaller and more intimate – whatever they needed.”

And were you always thinking about the songs as part of an album rather than standalone tracks?

“I think, as soon as I started going into the studio, which was a residential studio in rural West Wales with Gethin Pearson, it was very clear from that first session, where we recorded four songs, that this was part of something larger. I’d already made the other songs, they were early demoed or they were finished demos, and I knew it was not going to be just four songs. I knew they would all have siblings, or they’d all be family. Definitely, they have to stand alone, they have to stand up to just one play, but I was consistently thinking about the push and pull between the songs for sure.”

Lazy Day’s Tilly Scantlebury: “After I’d finished the record, I had no perspective on it. I was so involved in it and I was exhausted by the end.” Photo: Valentina Concordia

When you’d written such full demos, was it hard to bring in other people, or was that a fun process?

“It’s scary for sure. But I remember when I played maybe four demos, he said, ‘I don’t want to put anyone out of a job, least of all me, but I could just mix this.’ He then said, ‘But here are my ideas.’ Once someone gets on board like that and cares enough, and puts in that kind of energy… I don’t think anyone’s going to care as much as as you do, but I’d never had that kind of energy before, that dedication or commitment to the song and the project. It became immediately clear, ‘We’ve got to do this.’ I’ve got to do this again, you know, because they were already meaning so much to me. So I was like, ‘Let’s go.’ I think the first session was in 2021 summer of 2021.”

Has it been hard to sit on the songs waiting for them to come out or has it been nice to have them to yourself?

“After I’d finished the record, I had no perspective on it. I was so involved in it and I was exhausted by the end, from both finishing the album and my PhD, which was 100,000 words. To make these two things at the same time, by the end of it, I was really exhausted. I sat on it for quite a long time thinking, ‘What do I want to happen now?’ I didn’t want to rush that, because good things take time, but also, you only get one shot at a first shot.

“There was a moment where I thought, ‘Maybe I won’t do anything with this. I’m really pleased these songs happened, but no one will hear them.’ Then, I was sending them to Alex Cull, who is project manager of Brace Yourself Records, but also my PR dude. Every time I’d finish a new song, I was sending him them. We went for a drink, and he said something like, ‘I don’t want to freak you out, but I’ve been playing these in the office, and I think you need to come in for a meeting.’ Alex became so invested that I knew that I could hand it over. I think that involvement is very special.

“I’ve been really clear about what this is about and why it matters to me. That articulation seems to have translated. I don’t have any big plans or expectations for the record. That’s not really what I’m doing it for, but it means that the relationships I’ve built as a result of these songs have felt more meaningful, whether that be with Alex, or some of my new band members, or people that I’ve worked with. It’s just felt more like I’m where I needed to be, and the songs are doing a lot of the heavy lifting for me.”

What’s the plan for the next few months?

“We are doing a little record store tour the week of the release: Kingston’s Banquet Records, Pie & Vinyl in Southsea, Vinilo in Southampton, and Rough Trade West in London. In February 2025, we’re going on the Open The Door tour, coming to Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, North Shields, Nottingham, Birmingham, Bristol, and London.”

You say you don’t have any expectations, but what do you want the listener to take from your songs?

“That’s such a difficult question because ultimately, you have no control. You don’t have much control over the response. I hope that the happy songs make people feel happy. I hope that the sad songs make people feel validated and at home. I hope that the angsty, moody ones make people feel strong and determined. I hope that the groovy ones make people get up and dance. Really, I hope the songs meet people where they need to be met. But I also hope that in people listening to the songs, the songs are given new life, and that kind of relationship moves them forward.”

Open The Door by Lazy Day is out now on Brace Yourself Records. For music, tour dates, tickets and more, head to lazydaylazyday.com

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