All pieces are written in the style of The Guardian, following their style guidelines which, for safety’s sake, I have referenced at the bottom of this post. Also of note, an op-ed about the Geese controversy was published by The Guardian shortly after I wrote mine which I have also referenced. I have omitted this foreword from the final word count of 1,988
Geese – saviours or psyop?

Brooklyn-based indie rockers Geese have captured the hearts and ears of many a music fan with their fan-favourite latest record Getting Killed, released 26 September 2025. Stereogum awarded the band’s 4th effort the ultimate spot on its ‘The 50 Best Albums of 2025’ list, as did The New Yorker on its ‘The Best Albums of 2025’ list. However suspicions grew over Geese’s sudden unanimity post-release, prompting claims the band are ‘industry plants,’ or a ‘psyop’.
An industry plant (or psyop) is a term for artists whose connections drive their success, rather than their ability. The accusations arose after a piece from WIRED magazine, published 14 April 2026, titled ‘The Fanfare Around the Band Geese Actually Was a Psyop’, went viral, citing the band’s digital marketing tactics through the company Chaotic Good Projects. The foremost strategy in question is dubbed ‘user-generated content’, or ‘UGC’. The WIRED article describes UGC: “Essentially, the firm creates networks of social media pages (typically on TikTok) and uses them to drive the band’s music into the recommendation algorithm. Songs are dropped into the backgrounds of videos. Live clips are shared. Sometimes, burner accounts, comments, and whole ecosystems of interactions can be fabricated”.
Adam Tarsia, co-founder of Chaotic Good, confirmed to WIRED in an email: “We helped distribute clips of [Geese] performing and doing some interviews on TikTok.” Tarsia later commented on removing mention of individual artists on their website, saying: “We took things down from the site so our artist partners don’t get wrapped up in false accusations or misconceptions about how their music was discovered”.
Eliza McLamb, singer-songwriter contemplated the controversy in her ‘words from eliza’ SubStack with her article titled ‘Fake Fans’. She remarks: “Alternative music used to mean just that — an alternative to the mainstream — something that couldn’t simply be adopted by everyone else through pure exposure, through virality.” She then continues later: “I have no doubt that these artists could have ascended without the assistance of Chaotic Good because they are great musicians”. If nothing else, Geese are raising familiar questions about whether virality is a consequence of quality or just another tool to achieve success.
Indie-osyncratic aesthetics, how Geese made us honk for heretics
A dubiously plump band co-opting core principles of the genre suggests foul play may be the name of the game

After Geese’s latest LP Getting Killed, flocks of indie-rockers began to sing the Brooklyn quartet’s praise. Released 26 September 2025, the band’s fourth album soared to the top, dominating a number of respected charts. The cacophony was exacerbated by Cameron Winter’s, the frontman, solo release Heavy Metal which had been met with similar eulogies, released 6 December 2024. Now everybody is talking about Geese, heralded as: “The new saviours of rock’n’roll,” by The Guardian. Furthermore, their first release was in 2021, seemingly self-made from little fledglings into indie icons. Conversely, if we take a gander at their ascension into the limelight, it’s clear that the gaggle may have wedged their way in using methods that aren’t in keeping with the indie zeitgeist, rather they’re raising routine queries about the industrial illusion of authenticity.
WIRED magazine confirmed that the band worked with Chaotic Good on a campaign using ‘user-generated content’ (UGC). The tactic seeds tracks across social platforms through coordinated posts, soundbites and manufactured discourse. Whether entirely organic or carefully nudged, the result is the same: the appearance of a grassroots moment, possibly through manufactured virality.
This genre of underhanded tactic is something we’ve come to expect or at least not be shocked by in the realm of mainstream music; however, indie eponymously comes from an independent, DIY attitude. You could argue that forking out a fortune made from your own music and hard work is ‘doing it yourself,’ although the more evangelical indie kids would protest this claim. Another pillar is an air of authenticity; in this regard Geese seem to fall dispiritingly short since, albeit they appear to have risen from grassroots, their lack of comment on the subject seems schismatic.
The issue I find myself ruminating on is, in being the devil’s advocate, I understand the sin; indie’s foundations are rocky, even the most acclaimed bands had record deals from their genesis. Furthermore, authenticity is dubious and immeasurable, although every attempt has been made to quantify and categorise it. In defence of Geese, Eliza McLamb said: “I do think people have a needless purity about artists who aren’t on major labels”. Yet, what with all the clandestine marketing, it feels inauthentic. A feeling of authenticity is ostensibly what fans are looking for.
With the values of indie firmly in place, it’s time to perform the duck test; well it looks like a duck, swims like an insincere pop fad, but it honks … ? Shockingly, Geese don’t appear to be a duck: Indie is both an intangible mythos and a distinct musical genre; Geese may fit the sound, but their manufactured meteoric rise suggests something calculated that alienates listeners from the organic ideals that indie appeals to. As the illusion is increasingly shattered, the question persists: Does it mean anything to be authentic anymore?
‘The state of the world is absolutely horrifying’: Emily Keeble on folk, politics and community
From the cellist for the people, Emily Keeble addresses the world and the role of the calmest counter-culture within it.

“Bring that loving community back,” declares Keeble, remarking on her inspirations and how they’ve shaped her music and who she is today: “That’s why local music is so important,” she continues: “The role of art and music are so key in shaping how people deal with information and with the crises that we’re facing, […] the more that we invest in our communities and the more that art has a role shaping people’s experiences of the world, the better I think.” Rather than retreating from the horrors of the modern world, Keeble tackles them using weapons forged of a bygone era in the hope that their wisdom reveals the answers we’ve all been waiting for.
Keeble began her musical journey young, surrounded and immersed by it completely, she says. Her signature singular style of the hauntingly gorgeous paired effortlessly with the most human mundanity and draped so utterly in the opus of ancestry kicked off so humbly, you can’t get more folk than that. While studying climate science and art in Wales, Keeble attended a performance by Alana Middleton and Georgie Buchanan in Abergavenny; a moment she describes as transformative. “I was so blown away by folk singing,” she says. Soon after, she applied to study at the conservatoire in Leeds, hoping to find a space where she could write about the issues she had been studying “in a place that could nurture that”.
That spontaneity rings true through her music, she adds in response to what motivates her sound: “Um, two things really, stuff inside my head and stuff in the world.” Whilst the origin of her interest is rooted in climate change, Keeble broadened her scope around similar issues and unifies their causes: “I write about mushrooms and plants and like Celtic history and folklore, it’s a research interest of mine and that’s another thing, with folk, the research you get to do into into traditions and old stories is really exciting.” It’s clear that for Keeble, folk is about preservation and connection between people, landscapes and histories. Her songwriting moves fluidly between climate anxiety, mythology and the natural world. There’s a thoughtful vulnerability interwoven into each song: “I think I would go insane if I wasn’t entirely honest in some way.”

Keeble criticizes the state of the music industry as it is, pointing to major streaming platforms as a gatekeeper that disallows natural growth, a topic she is well versed in. She continues, describing the many hats a musician has to wear: “You have to be a musician. You have to be an influencer … You’re basically doing so many jobs just for the sake of wanting to express your music.”
Yet despite that exhaustion, Keeble speaks about music with an unmistakable optimism. Much of that hope seems rooted in collaboration and the communal spirit she believes folk still preserves. “Something that I’ve actually got the most out of and enjoyed the most,” she says, “is playing with all the people around me and learning from them.” In a culture increasingly defined by individual branding and competition, Keeble instead champions collectivism, experimentation and even failure. “Always collaborate,” she insists, encouraging young musicians to allow themselves the freedom to “be wrong publicly” and make mistakes in pursuit of something genuine.
That openness extends to the way she approaches performance itself. Though relatively new to performing solo, Keeble views live music less as spectacle and more as conversation. In traditional folk spaces, she explains, audiences want storytelling as much as songs; they want context, history and connection. “The whole point for me is communication and getting something across and connecting with people,” she says. It’s a philosophy that runs through every aspect of her work, from her environmentally conscious songwriting to her fascination with folklore and oral tradition.
In Keeble’s hands, folk becomes more than nostalgia or preservation. It becomes a living response to modern alienation; a means of understanding political despair, ecological anxiety and personal vulnerability through community and storytelling. If the modern world feels fractured beyond repair, Keeble’s music suggests the answer may not lie in inventing something entirely new, but in rediscovering what people once already had: each other.
Bull: Engines of Honey review – potent, pollinated but not quite ripe
After a debut that dreams are made of, Bull return; weaving a flawed but proficient fabric of literally explosive, nostalgic rock intertwined with tuneful, bardic illustrations of the everyday

Many have tried and failed to chase the dragon of 90s indie rock, yet Bull’s first foray into the scene with 2021’s Discover Effortless Living landed with both grace and a fighting spirit. Hitting the nail on the head sonically, the York quartet (turned quintet) brought a refreshing take on the elusive genre with their tongues firmly in their cheeks using quirky, almost ironic, timbres and timings whilst retaining the ability to strike a chord with meditative lyricism. Following such a standout record would prove to be a challenge, but it wasn’t their first rodeo: On 1 March 2024, Bull took themselves by the horns and released their second album Engines of Honey.
After the addition of Holly Beer on keys, the frontman Tom Beer’s sister, Bull’s sound took an eclectic turn. Although their signature faithful volatility remains present, topped with spirited, fuzzy and grousing guitars in luminary tracks such as Head Exploder, Imaginary Conversations and Stranger, gone is the unwavering excitement of each new intro as Tom Beer’s pensive verses brew up the bitter and the sweet, tethering the instrumentation along side it. This solipsism serves the record with peaks and troughs, from the scintillating allure of the ever introspective Jan Fin, to the disorientated blend of notions that is Crick. Especially where keys are concerned, Bull’s experiments feel more research adjacent, like queries that are discreetly interspersed across the LP; the result is uncharacteristically tentative and occasionally dispassionate. The foremost example of this is the outro of Stranger, decelerating from a keen lull to a disenchanted drag by virtue of a weary and flat guitar solo, souring the sweetness of an otherwise preeminent track.
Whilst there is plenty to protest in Engines of Honey, it remains a steadfast extension to Bull’s discography; Whilst their tongues remain in their cheeks, their hearts are now plainly on their sleeves, baring fruit that may yet need some time to ripen. If not the invigorating and intoxicatingly playful melodies of Imaginary Conversations, then the outright gorgeous and disciplined One Green Eye will at least leave you with a spring in your step, a thought in your head and a damn good tune in your ear.
Transcript
Okay, so this isn’t much of a question but introduce yourself. Um, my name is Emily Kubel I’m based in Leeds and I’m a folk slash Indie artist. Um, how did you find yourself in music? Um, I didn’t really have a choice to begin with because my family or my dad is a music teacher. So I was just given that world very soon. In my childhood and um both my parents and my brother all playing instruments around me. It was just a case of being immersed in it, and then, Having some time off it. Um, for a few years while I focused on other hobbies. And then realising, when I was about 19, That was Trudy yhv wanted to do. What led you to where you are today? So I, well, today I am studying in Leeds, um, at the conservative time in my second year. And what led me to that. Um I was studying a different degree in Wales. On climate science and art and its relationship to it. Um, And I went to a gig in abagavani, it was a Alana Middleton and Georgie Buchanan. And they were they had previously studied here and I was so. Blown Away by Folk singing, and Um, It just I just decided from that moment. It was very late to apply. Um, but I knew that that was the right place or seemed like the right place to be In order to write about the things that I was learning on the degree, I was on at the time but in a place that could nurture that Uh, who are your biggest Inspirations? So many, um, Hannah, James and Tobycoon. Are, they’re a Duo that do. Traditional and contemporary folk music with cello and cellos. Um, one of my main instruments so Toby Coon is a massive inspiration. Um, Yeah, on the folk side, the ranking sisters Lady mazurie. I grew up listening to So, I guess I’m always trying to be them. And, Um, on the kind of More singer-songwriter side, Laura Marling and Adrian Lenker. And Massive Inspirations for me, um, and also one of my friends and people that I’ve met Um, Yeah, so people that I’ve met recently that have inspired me have been Griffin and Collier Mikey, Kenny And, Yeah, Johnny Campbell. Musician from Sheffield. Um yeah. How do they inspire you? How did they inspire me? Yeah. What about them? Inspires you. Um, the excitement about what they’re doing and Complete commitment to it. Um, Um, because it’s folk music. Um, It goes back so far and drawing from communities that That have less of a voice or you hear less from these days. Um, And just bringing that love of community back and you see it in some local. That’s why local music is so important as well to me. Um, and in folk music their excitement and commitment to the tradition. While also bringing newness to it. How? And he kind of briefly touched on that then but how do your politics influence your music? Uh, massively. Um I think it’s the main thing that I write about. Um, Yeah, as it weaves through every single thing that That I find that I want to write about. Um, Yeah, the state that the country is in that alone, the world. Is absolutely horrifying. And, um, It’s taken me a long time. To sort of come to Realise, what I feel like my role is within such a scary, um, landscape politically but um, the role of Art and Music are so Key in shaping how people deal with? With information and with crises that we’re facing and and dealing with things as a community again. Um, Within folk music Community is such an important thing and it’s something that we’ve lost a sense of and don’t get taught how to exist in these days. Um, But the more that we invest in our communities, And the more that art has a role, Shaping people’s experience of the world. The better. I think. Um, what would you tell yourself? Now, when you’re just starting out Well, what would you tell yourself that, you know, now when you were just starting out Or just in general. What would you tell yourself when I was younger or any at any point? You know, whether starting in music or starting? Yeah, I think playing with as many different people as possible. Um because while having a solo project has always been since I was about 11, like I’ve always dreamt of being able to have a solo project and play my own songs and to do them the way that I want. But something that I’ve actually Got the most out of and enjoyed the most and learnt. The most from is playing with all the people around me and learning from them. And Yeah, you get a different experience, a different result from every project with different people. So always collaborate and And this is something I’m still learning, is being able to be Wrong publicly to make mistakes and Um, Playing when collaborating. Um, Not having to always put your best foot forward, like being experimental and making. Things sound bad for the sake of trying new things. Who do you think out of the people that you’ve collaborated with? That you think has taught you the the best lesson. Um, I think I do. Some co-writing and arranging with Muriel Padgett who I’m in her band and the songs of hers, um, but getting to write cello Parts in the way that I do and Um, Kind of, Co-Writing a bit with her and her style, which is quite different from mine but there are some shared values and Inspirations Um, it’s taught me a lot about how I approach my own songwriting and part writing. Um, Yeah. Do you think your talent has more been nature, or have you nurtured it over time or some combination? Or like, how would you balance that out? Um, completely just, I mean, Music was something that was nurtured in me from such a young age, um, which I’m so lucky for, um, and grateful for, although I wasn’t at the time, Um, Yeah, it’s it’s been Um, Yeah, I’ve been very lucky to have had that nurtured in school and from my family and Being able to study it at Uni, is something you can’t take for granted being able to spend three years, just learning about my passion. Um, yeah. So I’ve nurtured it quite a lot. I wouldn’t say that I’m good at practising though. Um, that’s still a skill. I’m learning. What genre of music other than folk, would you credit with having the biggest influence on you? I think, Punk. Not that I sound anything like that or folk Punk is its own thing. Um, but the political nature, Um, and the way that That punk band. Um, approach. That instruments as well. Um, Guys, something that is very inspiring, and I’ve spent time, Paying some of that style as well, um, in the past. And yeah. For elements of of that. That’s sort of the most important. The honesty and the anti-establishment anti-fascist. Um, Uh, principles and the way that people treat each other is actually, Well, it depends on which scene but Ideologically, people tend to treat each other a little better. In the community in that genre than perhaps others. I suppose on that note, would you would you sort of make of the current state of music music industry, you know what it’s like for small artists like Marketing, all the facets of sort of modern day music making it’s really hard. You have to be A musician. You have to be a influencer if you would you know if you’re going to try and do that. Um you have to be, you have to deal your admin. You’re basically doing so many jobs just for the sake of Wanting to express your music. Um, Which is I mean, I do enjoy a lot of the other aspects of it but it’s a lot of it’s unpaid and Yeah, really hard. Also, the way that Spotify and general distribution treats small artists is Despicable. Um, Uh, it’s very, very difficult to make any money touring or While streaming is basically just not something people can rely on and yes, they’re very lucky. Um Yeah, but um, there’s this idea. There’s you can very easily feel like that isn’t space for everybody and everyone’s music because everything feels like such a competition and people are pitted against each other constantly especially women in the industry. Um, but there definitely is, there are just different ways of going about it and we need to be taught that we need to be learning different ways of Yeah. Different spaces and different ways of promoting music that isn’t The same old stuff. We see every day on social media. Um, actually, yeah, that’s basically it. Okay. Um, What what motivates your music what’s like mainly what’s the main motivations? Find your music? Um, two things really, um, stuff inside my head and stuff in the world, which is really very, um, For me, a lot of what I write is about. Um, The natural world and It started off being sort of Loosely about climate change, but actually um, my interests have gone. Board. Um, so I write about mushrooms and plants and like Celtic history and folklore, um, It’s a Yeah, research interest of mine and that’s another thing. With folks, the research you get to do into into traditions. And old stories is really exciting. And the other half of it, I guess comes from Mental health struggles and I guess, the reason that I write is to kind of answer questions or we just ask questions that I don’t I don’t know how to express. Just speaking to people, um so they’re often just Uh, combined. Inside and outside thoughts. And what’s your, what’s your your process of writing a song? How do you approach? Writing a song? Um, differently all the time. I don’t really ever sit down and decide to write a song and if I do then it doesn’t tend to be something that I’m proud of. Um, It’s often. Just coming out of practising, like, with guitar, which I’ve picked up relatively recently. Um, Just practising. A few like finger picking things, you tend to just stumble across things that you like the sound of Um, And there’s often something that’s going on subconsciously. I think everyone’s always got These narratives going on. Throughout months at a time. Um, so I guess I do quite a lot of journalling and I’m just quite an overthinker. So I have a hard time stopping all of these thoughts, so getting them down on paper. Um, is really helpful. And then From that, you tend to They use there’s usually some something at the Crux of something emotional that needs to be. Outwardly expressed and that’s usually where I start. Theoretically Um, but I don’t really have a process. And I don’t think. I think that’s, um, It changes based on the instrument. I’m based on the mood and yeah. Um, What’s your what’s your biggest musical pet peeve? Oh my gosh. Um, Whether it be, you know, in songs or I gig or okay, to do with music, I think. When people are, Rude. Um, Roots. I mean, there’s just so many When you’re seeing a band. Um, And they just, if Rude, to the sound Tech if they’re rude to the venue staff. Um, People often don’t. You know, and I’ve been guilty of it myself when I was just starting out and I didn’t really know. You know, saying thank you to for having you and saying thank you to the sound tech. It’s actually really important. Um, it’s just polite and to appreciate the work that they’re doing to give you that experience. Um, Yeah. And just generally, You just hear some horror stories about Musicians, and the way that they treat people around them, Um, Which elements of your music. Are you most proud of? I think. I think I have an ability to be honest within songs much more than I am after songs. And I think I’m quite even though that that sometimes is actually I find that quite scary. Quite revealing. I am proud of. My ability to be honest in songs, How do you think you sort? Hones, that ability and sort of. How do you be so honest? I think I think out of having no other choice I think like I was saying before Songs, especially when I was younger, it wasn’t an intentional thing like I’m going to sit down and write a song when I was 14. It was So many things that I couldn’t say out loud because my 14 year old thinks they can say anything out loud. And so the only way that these things were going to escape me, Was if I wrote them down in a way that was creative and I could shape, and It only had to be for me, you know songs. I mean I love when other people enjoy them and when they resonate and that’s really lovely. But when, when they’re written, they tend to just be For me because I need them as that outlet. So I think it’s just, I don’t think it’s a choice. I think it’s I would go insane if I wasn’t entirely honest in some way. Yeah. How do you think that’s sort of? How do you apply that lyrically? You know. Um, How do you balance sort of? A sense of uniqueness. And your lyrics. Combined with Honesty without obtuse skating the meaning. Yeah, it’s not honesty. Okay. I think. Saying things in the way that seems most obvious to me and not how someone else might see like a metaphor that makes sense to me and That might not be the metaphor that other people would see. Trying to get the same point across, um, Saying things. Exactly. As I see them, maybe not as reality. Um, and I quite like The Surreal. Um, there’s a real kind of feeling you get from that and I really enjoy that in other people’s work. When Things are a big Thief. Are quite good for that Adrian, then because they’re very There’s a very literal but also very surreal. Um, That I love about that. So yeah, that’s kind of what I tried to do. If you could grant yourself some form of musical ability like anything, would it be? Play an instrument or But then I have have the best stage presence in the world or something like that. All of the ability. Um, play every instrument ever. Uh, maybe the ability to Oh, I don’t know. I want all of them. It’s hard to pick. I think, well, I’d love to be able to do so many things. I’d love. Um, I think at the moment, my stage Presents, because I’m so new to the stage on my own. Um, have, I mean, I’ve done stuff with bands in my Duo, but on my own it’s still a relatively new. Experience. So I think at the moment, if I could do anything better, It would be to be. More comfortable on stage and making audience comfortable. And All of those stagecraft things that I am yet to learn. Speaking of Elm, your other band. Yes. Uh your folk dear, how do you How do you approach songwriting differently? Um, Considering a Duo. Yeah. Um, we don’t actually write together. Um, we arrange together quite a lot but we’ll off. We’ll just take songs to each other. Um, It’s kind of about a half and half split of what’s, you know, of songs. Half a mine half are Ellie’s, um, and they’re very different to each other. And we can bring a lot of our each of our influences to each other’s songs. Um, so if I’m writing a path any song, then there’s a really nice like interweaving about different styles. Um, but it’s interesting because you do write differently for different projects. Um, And when I’m writing something, there’s often Kind of the thought, on the back of my mind of who is this? For what project is this for? Does it fit me? Does it fit Elm or anything else that I’m doing? Yeah. Um, I suppose this kind of goes hand in hand with that. How does your approach change when you’re working with the many different instruments that you play? Um, a lot. Yeah, the kind of basis instrument of a song really changes how it ends up. And when I was younger, that was piano. Um, Which, I mean there’s a very specific way that I was writing with piano. Um, I guess because the basis was chords, um, So, The way that you write the melody over chords is different to how you would write a Melody over a cello part which is what I’m getting really into at the moment backing myself with cello Because cello is it’s not a Harmony instrument as such. Um, I mean it can be You can play chords on cello, but Like primarily, it’s a Melody instrument. Um, so the way that you approach, Establishing, what the chord is you have to use? Your vocal you can use drones which I do quite a lot. So, it really does change it in guitar. I’m, I’m A beginner guitarist but I’m learning mostly what I’m doing is finger picking so there’s not a lot of chord strumming. There’s not a lot of Is quite minimalist. Um, so again the way that your Melody has to also complement that is something I’m really interested in Um and the different energy. I mean guitar songs. I feel like I go into quite a meditative state. Because the finger picking is repetitive because I’m practising it. And So that tends to be the feel of their songs. I writing guitar and then the cello songs tend to be more free time. Um, although you can be really rhythmic with chopping which I’m really getting into so you can sort of Be your own drum kit in a very basic way. So yeah. Um, How do you adapt to different crowds and venues? And different musical settings. Yeah, so in the folk world, if you’re at a folk club, people want to hear the story. Um, people want to hear the backstory Um, because the, the point of folk is storytelling and Yeah, it’s a really, really important part and that’s something that I really enjoy. Um, so when you’re in that sort of scenario, When your audience is, Used to that. It’s really nice to talk about that and it becomes more of a conversation. Which I really like and I like being on the other side of it, I love being in the audience and I love hearing. What stories, whether they’re traditional or it’s just someone’s Come up with one. Um, so there’s that and then sometimes because I’m not, I mean, I’m not I I do have traditional influence and I do sometimes arrange traditional folk songs, but I also, I’m a contemporary artist as well, so I do play. In scenarios where that’s less appropriate. So yeah, you do have to Have in mind who you’re playing to. And what they are going to resonate with. Um, and Basically, the whole point for me is communication and getting something across and connecting with people and Finding the right way of doing that as part of the whole job. Yeah. Um, What is your favourite part? Of any song you’re your favourite section, ever any song and why? Oh my goodness. It could be, you know, like Basically the whole song or it could be like a very specific passage or something, who just tickles your brain in the right way. Difficult question, I think. Um, Now, I’m gonna forget the name. I forgotten the name. That’s really annoying because it’s like one of the best songs ever. Um, Back Creek classic Bear Creek by Lancome. Um, just that whole song is just one big, Crescendo one, big rise. And it’s unbelievably cathartic. And it’s yeah, by the time, you’ve got about two and a half minutes in just from that point on. Every time I listen to it, you go into another realm, um, it will forever be I want it as my alarm clock. Once I figure out how to do that. Yeah. Um, How useful do you think? A traditional musical education is Um, and I suppose I mean, Either like a sort of classical education like you had or like a, you know, I suppose still formal but less. Specific. Training and music like at leads conservator? Yeah, it’s so interesting. I’m quite. Undecided because on one hand, I know how lucky I am lucky. I am to have had access to the musical education that I did. Um, and it did it shaped the way I mean, in terms of like, you know, music theory, which is something that It’s not essential and people go a long way without it and it’s you don’t need it, but Helps and it opens doors. Um, And it makes you feel. I mean, just in terms of feeling like, You deserve to be. The room you’re in, um, I think when I don’t understand something for me, that gives me quite a lot of impulsive syndrome. So in terms of confidence with session music musician things, which I do music theory is so helpful, um, coming from the classical training that I had in school. Um, so I don’t for a minute want to Um, take that for granted but also Um, at the same time, the classical training is very, very Um, The right word is It’s so specific to that style that it becomes quite A difficult thing to break out of if you’re not careful. Um, Because the way that you train your voice, Is so specific and long term and if that’s what you want, that’s amazing. Um, but I do feel like in what, in some ways, it’s really furthered. Um, Ability and who I am musically. It’s also held me back quite a lot. Um, they don’t teach you to jam, for example. So that’s something I discovered quite late on. Um, and despite that being Like one of the best ways of connecting with people, musically. It’s, um, Something I’ve had to figure out later on than others and improvising. It’s just less commonly taught in the classical world. Um, But I, I do think that musical education is so important as with any Arts education and the way that it’s being scrapped, from public, education is really sad. And quite scary and it’s all completely intentional. Um, so yeah, I think music education. In whatever way is essential for everybody, regardless. Um the ability to express yourself through music and art should be taught to everybody. Um I think I’ve repeated myself Um, And having it as a university course, is also. So lucky that I’m able to access that Um, and this course that I’m doing is the only focus In England, I think, well. Yeah, I think it is because there’s optional modules at other places like and the Ronald and college. But um, The Newcastle fight degrees is sadly, I think maybe ending at the end of this year. So you know, it’s a rare thing to find a folk. Specific degree. So, Yeah. It is a really good thing. Yeah, so I think really important In general, traditional music, education is really important. But the way you Teach it. Changes a lot. If you teach it as Um, getting it right or wrong and as a attainment and academic thing. Is useful for some but it can really be a turn off for many kids that just want to make some noise. Yeah. Spent a long time on that. Sorry. What role does music fill in your life? Or what roles I suppose does music fill in your mind. It’s just so important and it’s really hard to quantify these things. Um, It’s the kind of thing where you only notice how important it is to you, once it’s not there, once it’s taken away. Um, But you like, for example, I notice, when I’ve not been playing my instruments when You can kind of get into a pattern of If it’s busy good season. Um, I’m playing with lots of different bands. You’re constantly Just doing the gigs and, and recovering from them and actually I’m not When I’m not doing anything new. And I’m not constantly trying to actually find out a new way of playing The instruments that I have, I There’s just a side of me that isn’t coming out that isn’t um, Kind of existing and Yeah, it can feel really strange and then you realise. Oh, I just haven’t picked up my cello. For a while at home when there’s no pressure and there’s no one listening. Um, yeah. And it’s such an important thing. It’s meditation. Mindfulness. And Yeah. It’s political. And it’s yeah, it holds a political role in my life, as well as a personal one, as I’ve said. Um, and finally, what are your biggest hopes for the future, for my future or the future of Any indoor. Well for me, I hope that I can keep doing what I enjoy doing and I hope that it can become The music industry can become. A more accessible place for. For women, for All people, um, but especially people that haven’t had a place in it and that are sort of, well, hundreds of years, but Yeah. Um, Yeah, I hope that more people can access music to. To further things personally to further political campaigns. Um, To connect with parts of themselves. They may have left behind to connect with the natural world. That’s a really big thing. Yeah, I hope people can use music. Not even the music. I make anyone’s music to connect with the natural world. Thank you. Thank you.
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