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BILLY NOMATES - The CACTI interview

We chat with UK artist BILLY NOMATES about her brilliant second album, CACTI which was released on January 13 2023. We chat about finding success during the pandemic, the creation of the new record, and how it felt to be a guest on the legendary TV show, Later... With Jools Holland. CACTI – out now via Invada Records If there’s one question that informs Tor Maries writing as Billy Nomates more than any other it’s this: whose voice isn’t in the room? A beacon of brutal truth in an industry built on inconsequential bullshit, the Bristol-based singer-songwriter gives voice to the silenced, the disillusioned, the broken-hearted, and the burnt-out assembling brilliantly biting dispatches from the fringes of a society mired in austerity, inequality and insularity. Or, as Maries puts it, with trademark bluntness, “There's too much music in the world already, so everything I make has to count.” “Make everything count” might just as well serve as Maries’ creative mantra. From the impactful imagery powering her soulful and bleakly humorous songwriting to the economy of sound, she achieves with her defiantly DIY approach, there’s not a superfluous detail in the entirety of Maries’ output as Billy Nomates so far. It’s this very combination of authenticity and searing insight that made 2020’s self-titled debut such a revelation, winning Marie's admirers such as Iggy Pop, Juliette Lewis and Florence Welch. And as she prepares to release the excellent follow-up, CACTI, Maries is more focused on her mission than ever. Though every bit as unrepentant as its predecessor, the 12-track collection comes from a much more exposed place emotionally, finding Tor navigating her inner thoughts and confronting uncomfortable personal truths around past relationships and her own mental health as she moves into her 30s. As she puts it, "70-80% of being bold is about being vulnerable as hell." 'balance is gone' tackles those struggles head-on, charting Tor's attempts to find purpose as the rug is ripped from under her. On ‘saboteur forcefield’ she lays bare her propensity for self-sabotage, an admission she hopes could be “the first step” towards unlearning some of those destructive patterns. Meanwhile ‘spite’s “Don’t you act like I ain’t the fucking man” refrain serves as both a reproach to anyone underestimating her, and as a personal pep talk. As she explains, “How are you going to deal with anything if you don't have that self-belief?” The album climaxes with a trio of tracks examining the eerie sense of apathy that still haunts Tor post-pandemic. Perhaps most stark amongst these is the album-closer, ‘blackout signal’, which sees her pining for a life beyond both the endless scroll and financial struggles, in lines like, “I dream of shutdowns now”. “If we’re being honest with ourselves, I think a lot of us didn't really want things to return to normal [after lockdown],” Tor says of the song’s context. “It was terrifying thinking about going back to that hustle, because we got a glimpse of a very different life, outside the walls of capitalism. And I don't think we'll ever know [that life] now. But that was a close moment, you know?” And yet, for all the anguish and uncertainty that inspired CACTI’s creation, its very existence is a symbol of hope, a testament to Tor’s ability to survive – and indeed thrive – in the least hospitable of environments. It’s an idea summed up in the title track, which pairs apocalyptic imagery with honest reflections on just how many hurdles she’s overcome, as exemplified in the resolution, “I’m never coming back again.” Certainly, Maries’ path to this point has been anything but easy. Raised in a working-class household in the Midlands, Maries inherited her love of music from her music-teacher father, whose twin passions were smooth Americana and acerbic punk – from John Denver and James Taylor to The Stranglers and Stealers Wheel. Struggling with severe, undiagnosed dyslexia, she spent much of secondary school butting heads with teachers, only finding sanctuary writing music in her dad’s office, singing in the school choir, or playing guitar in a succession of bands with friends. Today, Maries credits her relentless drive to those oppressive, small-town surroundings. “When you’re at a comp in the Midlands, you need some form of escapism,” she laughs. “It’s like, please tell me there's something better than this!” After being rejected to study music at BIMM alongside her bandmates, Maries moved to Bristol at the age of 16 to continue the band. But when the band eventually split in acrimonious circumstances, Maries swore off music entirely, burned by the experience.