A New Year, and a new opportunity found Rhys Lewis emerging from the end of a relationship, his heart in pieces and his head in disarray. Moving back to London from the Oxfordshire countryside was tough, but music became his salve. Freed from major label inhibitions, he started to sketch out new ideas, working only to his own desires. “For the first time, I was making something I had to trust myself on,” he notes. “It was so nice to write music without any expectations placed on me. Those small changes do add up. You’re writing from where you feel, and what you think, and that’s a much purer place to make music from.

Taking hold of a studio space in East London, he wanted to create “an extension of my living room”. Each day he would walk 20 minutes along the canal, over the Lea Valley marshes, and pour his heart out on tape. “When I finally got it set up, I realised that I had a palette. All the instruments that I’ve collected were in one place. I looked at the things I’d loved long enough to call them mine, and thought: well, I’ll work with those.”

It found him pinning down a new sound – skeletal, folk-hewn, and emotionally direct. For the first time, Rhys worked without a producer, and that freed him in subtle but striking ways. He didn’t gig the material before going into the studio – also a first - no one heard these ideas, other than him. “The atmosphere of having the space to myself became a part of the production. Being alone is a production choice, in a way.”

“It felt empowering,” he says. “Being selfish, and sinking into the process, was something I needed. I could work without being observed, and that got me closer to the music.”

Rhys will be accompanied by William Jack on the cello. https://www.instagram.com/williamjackmusic