Crowning Glory: Introducing Spring King

The rise of Spring King has been one of 2016’s most thrilling success stories. Riding a supercharged trail from rudimentary beginnings, the Mancunian band endured scrapes and shake-ups before winning breathless endorsements from Zane Lowe, and becoming the first band ever played on Apple Music’s Beats 1 radio. A major record deal and a riotous debut album later, the art-pop-punk four-piece are setting their sights ever higher.

“This year has been everything that we’ve ever dreamed of,” admits singer and drummer Tarek Musa. “When me and Pete started this band, we were like, if we could play one show a week then we’d be happy.” Instead Spring King earned support slots with Mac DeMarco, Courtney Barnett, Slaves and Spector – but there’s still a sense of wonder in these overachievers: “We never think we’re going to kill it. We’re usually quite negative people... but as soon as we get out there, we get a great reception,” Musa reflects. “It’s been really fucking good.”

“We’re really aware of how fierce [the music industry] can be,” he explains. “You can get stubbed out quite quickly, so we try to enjoy every moment. The only way to get longevity is to make sure you love every moment – if you don’t, people can sense that.” Theirs is a simple, perceptive attitude, and it’s seen them skilfully and organically traverse the delicate, danger-fraught career path for a new band in the age of ‘buzz’ and ‘hype.’ There’s nothing overdone or over thought about Spring King, and Musa puts the band’s ethos into a simple summary: “We’ve done what we aimed to do, which is make people lose their shit at our shows.” Anyone who’s caught the group live will stand as sweat-soaked, beaming testimony.

In June, Spring King dropped their first full-length album – Tell Me If You’d Like To is frenzied and thrilling, and was recorded (and, in some cases, written) in just three weeks of intense studio activity. It captures a band with a golden knack for indie hits built for the dancefloor and the mosh pit, but there’s a hidden depth and a subtle weirdness to Spring King’s writing. “If you sing along you wouldn’t know,” Musa offers.

“I’ve always ended up being that person where, if a friend had a problem, they’d come to me. I accumulated a lot of other people’s emotions in a way. A lot of the songs might be about struggle, depression or anxiety but they always pull through in the end.” He admits to a perhaps unlikely idol in The Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson – “some of his lyrics are really dark. I take influence from him as much as possible.” 

There’s a lurking tension behind Spring King’s fevered punk assault, and a relatability, too. Their ascent might have been rapid, but it’s born out of a tried-and-tested process: “The first few years we toured around, slept on floors and played any show we could. We played a club night in Nottingham where one person turned up, and James got started on. We were getting forty quid for a show, but you couldn’t even pay for the petrol between Bristol and back in a crap old car – we had a Honda shuttle. I managed to blag a credit card which saved our arses, and when we got a deal four years later, my first pay check just went to pay the credit off. That’s Spring King! It’s always been about pushing against what we don’t have.”

The band’s success comes in a period of bubbling excitement for a scene of like-minded, ambitious UK bands, all unafraid to shake things up. In October, Spring King take musical kindred spirits Get Inuit, Kagoule, The Magic Gang and The Big Moon on the road, and it feels like a defining moment: “We couldn’t believe that everyone agreed to it!” Musa enthuses. “We’re very lucky to have the bands around us that we do.”

“There’s a string that runs through all the bands; the energy of the music is similar – bridging the gap between scuzzy and poppy. There’s a line all the bands are walking, between DIY and making things for yourself in a bigger way. We all know what we want to do, and we’re all in this together. There’s no exclusion. There’s a community scene, not everyone out there for themselves.”

That said, a bit of competition never hurt anyone. “They’re all incredible musicians, so we’ll definitely be pushed every night,” laughs Musa. “In a friendly way, though! It’s like when you’re playing footy with your mates. They’ll definitely make us play as hard as possible, though. I’m going to have to up my game... and not throw up on stage.”