Bess Atwell is an Artist on the Precipice of Being

Bess Atwell is hesitant to sound self-pitying.

The pandemic scuppered her plans of touring in 2020. The lease running out on her flat had her forced to join the ranks of young adults faced with moving back in with their parents.

She’s eager to clarify her luck in her situation: “I wasn’t having to pay rent over lockdown when I didn’t have a job. So that was great.” 

“I think a lot of people can relate to the fact that family is complicated. Especially if you’re in your mid-20s, going back to live with your parents can be really challenging.” 

Since signing with Lucy Rose’s Real Kind Records in late 2020, Atwell has released two singles which continue to build on her established lyric-driven style, aided by a lulling voice that deftly navigate complex emotions.

Bess Atwell is tuned-in to the brand of introspective indie that an increasingly bleak world is craving; she seems an artist poised on the precipice of her becoming.

Her newest single ‘Time Comes in Roses’ is an aching ballad with an accompanying folk heart. Composed in the midst of a particularly difficult period of the pandemic, it is a reflection on the insistent passage of the seasons even as the human world seems to crumble. It wasn’t written to be heard.

“Most of the time when I’m writing there’s a certain awareness that someone is going to hear this one day, so there is a level of editing myself – not wanting to appear whingey or self-indulgent or sorry for myself,” she explains, “But this song I really did write just for me. I am more honest in this song than I’ve been before, and maybe more honest than I was comfortable being.”

In an accompanying Instagram post Atwell discusses the track’s release in light of her recent ADHD diagnosis. This retroactively clarified many of the struggles that had triggered the writing of the song. As an artist it can be difficult to determine how much access to grant the public to a private life, and for Bess it has been a balancing act clarified with time: 

“The confidence to release ‘Time Comes in Roses’, I suppose, was something that came with time and age…maybe someone will interpret it as whingy, but also it will connect with people and help them to feel less alone.”

The conversation has opened up further as of late, with the launch of the podcast ‘A Trip to the Co-op with Bess Atwell & Lucy Rose’, in which the pair chat about Bess’ recent singles. The dynamic between the two is endearing with friendship shining through beyond their professional connection as artist and label head.  They first met in early 2020, and a connection was formed instantaneously.

While supporting City and Colour on tour “she just popped backstage after our last show at London’s Palladium,” Bess says of their first encounter, “she liked the set and asked if I wanted to go for a coffee at some point, because she lived in Brighton as well. I am a big fan of hers and have been for a long time, so it was quite surreal for me to meet with her for a coffee at my local café. It was great.” Her admiration for her fellow musician is evident. “She is one of the most crazy-hardworking, lovely people I’ve met.”

On the topic of podcasts, Bess reveals that she is not immune to the true crime frenzy that over the past few years has gripped primarily young women, keeping herself entertained with a healthy level of paranoia: “I listen to a different murder story every day, and then walk down the street like. Someone’s going to murder me. It’s going to happen.”

The conversation is punctuated by errant mews. In the background of her Brighton flat Bess’ 4-month-old kitten provides an interruption that is impossible to complain about.

There is something obscurely old-fashioned at play in Atwell’s music

The city shines through sonically. It is the place where she grew up and later the place where she connected with the local music scene: “There’s a lovely culture in Brighton: it’s so small so you tend to know all the musicians that are making the same kind of music as you, so I know loads of mates through going to gigs. My friend Jacko [Hooper] runs a night called Folklore, it’s at the White Rabbit Pub, that night is how I’ve met most of my friends.”

There is something obscurely old-fashioned at play in Atwell’s music, hints of an archaic folk past expertly gelled with concerns of modernity. ‘Co-op’ sets the urban detritus of fly tipping and convenience stores against sweeping sonic landscapes. “I am inspired by rural countryside.”

She explains, “Around Brighton there is so much beautiful countryside and that feels like it influences my songwriting which can be quite insular and at times feels lonely. I think that that’s the same feeling you can have when you’re out somewhere quite rural.” She jumps to clarify, “I mean that in a positive way! There’s something quite romantic about it.”

Compared to her previous efforts, ‘Co-op’ signals a move away from the minimalism of fingerpicked guitars guided by a confidently steering voice, to something electronically atmospheric and grand in scale. “Though my roots are more folksy, with this record I was inspired by bands like Beach House and Weyes Blood, artists that have more synth-y soundscape-y palates.” On whether this is a direction she’s keen to go in the future, “I don’t know, I do what I feel like…” More emphatically, “I do what I want!”

This expansion in sound is thanks to collaboration with producer Giles Barret (who has also worked with Moses Sumney and Ezra Collective) and her guitarist Chris Matthewson. Bess explains her usual process: “I create quite realised demos at home on logic by myself just with, y’know electronic instruments.” She admits, “Ultimately with this album it came together quite higgledy-piggledy! Is that a phrase? I don’t know how you’re going to write that!”

“It was a big learning curve basically, as we were figuring out how to do it as we went. Especially for Co-Op, we did a lot of drum programming and synth programming, but then I also had my band, who are brilliant.”

With fingers firmly crossed, she speculates on her plans for the rest of the year, which so far includes “some festivals,” – 110above and Reading’s Down at the Abbey already being announced — and grabbing tickets to support fellow artists for when the human world re-emerges from its lonely cave.