As we sit in the (rather posh) green room of the O2 Islington Academy, ISLAND are struggling to open a bottle of beer. After locating his tool of choice, which just happens to be an inhaler, James, ISLAND’s bassist succeeds in prising the top off.
The band seem to hold a certain reverence for their frontman Rollo. “Wait until he gets here,” they urge, “and you’ll see what we mean”.
Their true personalities seem to really come out onstage, Rollo the enigmatic, soulful frontman, James the cheeky bassist, Toby the rather reticent but witty drummer and guitarist Jack, who seems to just about hold it all together. Having started playing when they were in school, their paths diverged when university hit. Derived from “folky, acoustic-y, harmony based” roots, their sound evolved when they “just kept turning the amps up” Rollo jokes. The result is an atmospheric, emotive sound, as if all of indie got together and had a really soothing baby.
Their music literally sounds as if they were isolated on a small island, although they claim their name isn’t as fitting as it appears. “We said when we chose the name that you kind of become the name... if you take bands like The Drums or Arctic Monkeys, at first you think that’s a terrible name, but the point is it’s a terrible name until you’re not a terrible band,” explains Jack. The word ‘island' was a blank canvas onto which they could project (and the fact that they were playing gigs nameless eventually became problematic), so ISLAND they became (there is unfortunately another band with the lowercase version). We’re delighted to hear the result, especially when it’s revealed that ‘Shy Wolf’ and ‘Capricorn’ were discarded alternatives.
A fourth EP and an album later, they’re doing their name justice. When asked if they have any particular markers for success or any fears for the band, Rollo springs to life, “We’d love to play Glastonbury. And fears... I don’t know. One of us dies?” This rather morbid thread is a theme that runs through the album, from ‘The Day I Die’ to the wistful lyricism of ‘Nighttime Written Blues’, to which Rollo admits “Yeah, I probably need to have myself looked at”.
We joke that one of them should kill the others off at 27, and Jack heroically yells "Shotgun not! Oh wait we don’t shotgun! So that’s me gone at 27.” Toby explains “That was one of the first rules we came up with in the band, you’re not allowed to shotgun things because it creates a bad atmosphere. If you shotgun something by accident then you instantly become the person.”
We go on to learn that it’s not only shotgunning that creates a bad atmosphere. “We have the button rule. If people are chatting too much shit, you have to press the button and then the other has to stop. Boop!” There also can’t be too many roll necks onstage, or any dad jokes. “We’re not allowed to be mean to each other. We recently abolished the voting system, we used to be democratic and now we’re communists... there’s no dictators though. Socialism... Idealism. We’re dreamers now.” James interrupts to bring the discussion back to earth. “The main rule that matters is that we try everything. If someone has an idea, you can’t say it’s dumb until you’ve heard it. In fact, you can’t say it’s dumb because that’s mean, which violates our other rule.”
It’s this endearing attitude which prevents the band from coming off as arrogant or overly pretentious, traits which have been known to kill the career of other groups. With the release of their latest EP When We’re Still, ISLAND continue in the vein of their debut album, Feels Like Air, which featured exquisite photographic prowess by Sequoia Ziff.
When We’re Still is out now via Beatnik/French Kiss.
