Start Listening To: Evan Williams

Evan Williams on seaside influences, creative perseverance, and finding his voice.

Evan Williams is a songwriter hailing from the scenic seaside district of Thanet, East Kent, whose introspective and emotive music has begun to capture hearts far beyond the coastal confines of his hometown. With his debut album The View From Halfway Down, he offers a raw, coming-of-age collection of songs born out of personal reflection, creative perseverance, and the quiet tumult of life during a global pandemic.

From formative encounters at Margate’s Albion Rooms to the strikingly original music video for his single Ride On, Williams' journey is steeped in the blend of grit and romance that characterises his sound. Drawing inspiration from his surroundings, his performances exude a deeply personal vulnerability while maintaining a universal resonance.

As The View From Halfway Down prepares to make its mark, we caught up with Evan to delve into his creative process, the lessons learned from his musical heroes, and the meaning behind some of his most poignant tracks.

For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?

I'm a songwriter from Thanet, on the East Kent coast. I write music primarily for myself. As a result the outcome is introspective, moody, and melodramatic. A bit like myself I think. 

Your debut album, The View From Halfway Down, is described as a “coming of age record.” What were the biggest lessons or realisations you found yourself grappling with while making it?

In my late teens I truly believed that if I just wrote songs I thought were great, then that would be enough. Through making this record and writing these songs I've been reminded repeatedly that it's never that simple. At times I really felt like packing up the guitar and calling it a day. A less fulfilling career with more stability has seemed so appealing at times. Having recorded this album I now know with certainty that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.

'Ride On' stands out with its Western influence and a unique music video featuring Sinclair C5s. What inspired this quirky concept, and how does it tie into the song’s themes?

It all goes back to first meeting Peter Doherty back in 2018. At the time he was doing these suitably shambolic impromptu gigs in Margate. One day on the bus home from college, I saw he was playing that evening at a little B+B in Margate called Rosslyn Court. At the gig, I met a load of his mates who ran stalls at a vintage furniture warehouse called Fort Road Yard. There were a load of shipping containers at the yard, one of which was full of Sinclair C5's. It was run by these two guys Ed and Brooksie. They were both really supportive of my music, and we quickly became good friends. Ed ended up managing Carl Barât’s nightclub Justine's, and I worked on the bar there for about a year. Over this time we'd kept chatting about using the C5s for a music video. When I realised the first single was going to be 'Ride On' and it was going to sync up with the 40th anniversary of the C5, I realised it was the perfect fit.

Just like the song, they encapsulate the past and the present. They represent a naive 80s optimistic view of how the future could've been. A future that never came to be. 

The Albion Rooms in Margate seems to have played a pivotal role in your journey, from working behind the bar to recording your album there. How has that space shaped you as an artist?

I remember when I first started working there, the Libs talked a lot about wanting it to be like Warhol's factory. A safe haven for like-minded creatives. And I think in some ways it achieved that. There was a constant buzz around the place and every day a new band through the doors. I met so many friends there and learnt so much about the industry. It has become a home from home for me, and I feel lucky to have been there from day one. 

You’ve mentioned recording some tracks live to capture the energy of your performances. What do you think is lost or gained when recording live versus a more polished studio approach?

None of the tracks on the record are completely live. ‘Ride On’ is all live except from the vocals which were overdubbed later. But we never went and did hundreds of takes of everything. Sometimes the power of the studio can be a curse, and you can spend ages chasing unattainable perfection. There's a place for that precisely engineered music, but the songs I write are exposed and vulnerable and I felt that should be reflected in the instrumentation.

Your single When the Shutters Rise Again was hailed as a lockdown anthem. How do you think the pandemic has influenced your songwriting and outlook on life?

When the pandemic first hit, I was just 19. Life was meant to just be getting started, and then it stopped. I wanted to be out gigging every day and I was stuck inside. So I would just write. 'When The Shutters Rise Again' was an observation of everything that was unfolding at the time, and the spotlight the pandemic had shone on the many injustices in the world. 

It was a pretty optimistic track in hindsight. It felt at that point like there was a global push for change.

But as the lockdowns continued, I was forced to look inward and address a lot of emotional turmoil I was dealing with. Most of the songs on the album come from that period of time, the later stages of the pandemic and the aftermath. 

It’s definitely affected my outlook on life. Although it's hard to tell what was the pandemic and what was just growing up. But it cemented in me that I wanted to make a career performing live. It was the thing I missed the most during that time.

Having supported acts like Peter Doherty, The Libertines, and Hak Baker, what’s the most valuable lesson you’ve learned from sharing the stage with such established artists?

I’ve learnt that it’s important to enjoy yourself on stage. Sometimes it’s easy to get bogged down in all the organisation and planning and you forget why you’re actually doing it. I think audiences can always tell when an artist is enjoying themselves on stage, and it puts them at ease as well.

The seaside town life heavily influences your songwriting, as heard in England’s Streets. How does your upbringing in East Kent continue to inform your music today?

Growing up in Thanet there was a real island mentality. You could be forgiven for believing that the world started at the River Wantsum and ended at the Channel. Being surrounded by that attitude gave me a yearning to escape, to look for more. Those feelings are embedded in the songs. 

There’s also just a fuck load of seaside metaphors.

You re-recorded ‘I’ll Stick Around’ for the album, saying your voice and style had evolved. What’s your relationship with your older material, and how do you decide which songs to revisit?

I'm proud of everything I've released to date. Each track is a piece of who I was at that point. I knew I wanted 'I'll Stick Around' on the album but the production was so different on the original recording to the rest of the album and my voice is stronger now. It just would have felt out of place.

‘For Anyone’ was a last-minute addition to the album and became one of your favourites. Can you tell us more about the process of rediscovering that song and its meaning to you?

It was a happy accident really. Albie (my drummer) and I were soundchecking to record another song on the album and while we were tinkering, I just started playing it. I'd never shown it to anyone before other than my parents and my brother. Jason and Albie were adamant that we record it.

I’m so glad we did; it changed the direction of the album quite significantly. ‘The Ending’ and ‘Ten Fifty-Four’ never would have made it to the album otherwise. It made me look back at the songs I’d written and reconsider the tracklist.

That song is very personal. It’s about learning to be happy with yourself. There’s this idea at the moment that we all have to be seeking growth and improvement at all times, and sometimes that can be positive, but I also think sometimes it’s important to forgive your own flaws and except that we’re all human and fuck up sometimes. You shouldn’t have to change yourself to suit others. 

What do you love right now?

I love a lot right now. My new home in London, my friends, my family, and playing music. The world can feel pretty bleak sometimes but there's still a lot to love.

What do you hate right now?

I try not to hate. Although it's not easy. I don't like glitter. Or the foxes that scream outside my bedroom window at night.

Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you? 

Hunky Dory by David Bowie is a pivotal one for me. Some of my earliest memories of music are from that album. I particularly remember standing out of the sunroof in my mate's dad's car when I was probably about 7 years old as that album played from the 8-track stereo he had.

I think the influence can be heard on the album, especially some of the piano ballads.

That album also serves as a reminder that most people don’t get the magic superstar formula right the first time. It came out a year before Ziggy Stardust.

What are you most excited about as you prepare to release The View From Halfway Down? 

There are some tracks that I haven’t played live yet. I’ve been saving them for when the album is out. I’m excited to play them live. And I’m excited to have a physical copy of the album. To have a physical object to hold onto that contains music I’ve made. When everything exists in the digital ether it doesn’t always feel like achievements are tangible. 

And I’m excited to hopefully see other people resonate with the songs. I hope they bring some joy and comfort to people.