A couple of years can change a person. For Sol, they changed everything — the music, the band, the way he sees himself, even the way he writes. What started as a teenage rebellion with a guitar has evolved into something sharper and more intentional, shaped by heavy break-ups, late-night doubts, and the kind of self-discovery you only get from stepping off a stage and knowing you were born for it. This interview captures BILK at the moment of reinvention: bruised, liberated, and finally sounding like the band they were always meant to be.
It’s been about two years since we last crossed paths at Boardmasters — what have the last couple of years looked like for you personally and for BILK as a band?
It’s hard to sum up everything that’s happened in the last couple of years. I’d say the main thing is I’ve grown into more of a man than I was before. I feel more like a man than a boy nowadays. I feel like you can hear that in the new music. I’ve learnt things, been through experiences, and changed in ways. Fundamentally though, I’m still the same person in essence — just a more mature version of myself, I guess, but that happens with age. I know who I am and what I’m about, and I’ve never changed that for anyone. And when I say mature, I don’t mean sensible. I still think it’s good to go out there and live free and make mistakes and be a human being and have fun. That’s who I am. I’ve been through a heavy break-up that left me in pieces, but then I was able to become the best version of myself after. People have come and gone in my life and a lot has gone down. So in a personal sense, life has happened. And I’m all for it. Bring it on. As a band we’ve changed a lot too. We’re like a whole new band now — new line-up, new formation, new music, new style, new attitude. It’s just different. We’ve grown and arrived at where we’re at our best now.
For anyone new to BILK, who’s in the band, and how would you describe the dynamic between the members?
As of right now, the official members of BILK are myself, Sol, on lead vocals and the songwriter of the band — I write all the songs myself — and Luke, who’s the bass player. Me and him are best mates; he’s my right-hand man. He reels me in when I’m too much, and I bring him out of his shell. We’re very different people, but we make a good dynamic because we balance each other. I’m spontaneous and like to live a bit wild — not in the wreckhead sense, but in my spirit — and Luke is more cautious and planned. He likes to plan his outfits weeks before shows, whereas I decide on the day. At the moment it’s just me and Luke. We’ve been using session members but are currently working on the line-up. We’re gonna bring in two new members — a drummer and a guitarist — to make BILK a four-piece band.
What were your earliest musical beginnings — the first instruments, first gigs, first sparks that made you think this is what you wanted to do?
When I was leaving school, that sort of age, I picked up a guitar again. I’d been taught the basics when I was younger because my dad always played guitar in cover bands with his mates, and he got me learning when I was really young. But I never took to it that much because I didn’t like having to play what I was told to play. I had to do it off my own back. When I was about 16, I got into punk and rock and roll and started rebelling against school and society in general, and I started writing. I formed a band and played my first ever show at a youth club in Brentwood, Essex. It was full of local emo kids and people from my school who were interested to hear I’d started a band. As soon as I stepped off the stage I knew I would do this for my whole life and that it was me. The feeling I got — and still do get sometimes — from stepping off the stage after a great gig is better than any drug, any orgasm, any high in life. I love it, and it’s me to a T.
Your sound blends punk, indie, rap, and raw British storytelling — who are the key influences that shaped that mix, and who’s inspiring the newer, more rock‑and‑roll direction you’ve been leaning into recently?
Before, I was influenced by the likes of Nirvana, The Sex Pistols, Green Day on the punky side of things, and then The Streets and a lot of rap music on the storytelling side. That got blended together and created the sound and style you hear in my earlier songs. Nowadays I’m into straight rock and roll. I didn’t like it when people would ask me what kind of music we play and I’d have to be like, “Oh, bit of this, bit of that.” I like to be able to say, “We’re a straight rock and roll band.” My focus is just being a cool-as-fuck great rock and roll band making good tunes and creating a good time. There’s not enough of it right now, I don’t think, and it’s what I’m into and what feels right for me, so I go with that. A lot of it is natural. But in terms of what bands and artists are inspiring this new stuff: The Strokes, Jet, Kings of Leon, Lenny Kravitz, The Doors, AC/DC — that’s just a few. Just broad rock and roll influences.
You’ve been developing BILK since around 2015 — how long have you considered yourself a musical artist, and what’s changed most about your approach since those early days?
I’d consider myself a musical artist since then really — about 2015/16, like you said. That’s when I started taking it seriously and got a band together. I was writing songs since about that time too. What’s changed since then in terms of my approach is that back then I’d be very concerned about lyrics and what I’m saying, whereas now I prefer an approach where it’s a bit more subjective to the listener. When you listen to early BILK stuff it’s more specific — you listen to one of our songs and it’s like, “OK, this is about that specific subject.” Whereas now I write from more of a subconscious place, to the point where a lot of the time I don’t even know what the song is about myself until later, or sometimes never. It comes from a place deep within and falls from the sky, but I know it means something because I feel from it. I wrote a song called Figure It Out that’s on our latest unreleased album, and that was about doubts I was going through in the long-term relationship I was in with my ex. It was only months after, when things started to go to shit, that I realised what I’d written that song about. It fucked with my head for weeks. It’s strange — it’s like the songs know more than I do.
Your new single Do Ya Want It dropped at the end of June and we played it on the Sonic Nomads New Music Podcast — what’s the story behind that track, how did it come together, and what does it say about where BILK are heading next?
Do Ya Want It was the first song of this new era that I wrote. I was in a terrible, very lost place for about three months after we came off our last album tour. I didn’t know where I was going with the music or what I was doing, but I knew I was dissatisfied with the current version of BILK at that time. I trialled and errored a lot of different styles of music and spent a lot of nights frustrated and confused, but then one night I sat down with my acoustic and Do Ya Want It came out of me in about four minutes. That same night I wrote about five other songs, probably one or two of which made the latest album. It spurred on the whole new direction. I don’t know where it came from or what happened, but the song came to me and I ran with it. I think as a song, being about going out and living and getting what you want in life, it made sense at the time — especially with the lyrics in the bridge: “And it might break your mind but it’s just the price you pay.” That lyric still hits today for me because this job and lifestyle I’ve chosen is crazy and it can drive you crazy. But I love it and couldn’t see myself doing anything else.
You’re proudly from Chelmsford — how would you describe the music scene there right now, and what role do you think grassroots venues in Essex play in shaping new artists?
There are a few small bands knocking about in Chelmsford doing their thing, and I say good luck and fair play to ’em. As I’ve gotten older my attitude is very much: if you’ve gone and started a band and you’re doing it, even if I don’t like it personally, I say fair play to you. I believe there are two types of people in life — the people that do things, and the people that stand on the sidelines and point their fingers and laugh. And it’s a lot easier to do the second option. It takes guts to go and do something in your life, I think. So there’s an immediate respect for those people, even if the music isn’t for me. But going back to venues and bands in Essex — yeah, I mean, there’s not a great scene if I’m honest. There’s a venue called Hotbox in Chelmsford which is brilliant; it’s my home away from home. My equivalent to the Whisky a Go Go. It’s the place I go to drink a lot. I’m friends with the owners — it’s a cool-as-fuck venue that’s keeping it alive — and I go there a lot of Saturday nights for the dominoes nights hosted by a good friend of mine, Papa D. The Jamaican community in Chelmsford all get together, play dominoes and blast reggae tunes, and it’s a great time.
Let’s do a Come Dine With Me special — if you were hosting the perfect three‑course dinner, what’s your starter, main, and dessert, and which band member would cause the most chaos in the kitchen?
I’d cause the most chaos because whenever I cook it’s like I’m redecorating the kitchen. I’m very messy. Luke’s chilled as anything — he’d make a banging risotto and do it blindfolded with meditation music in his headphones. I’m like some mad octopus flicking sauce around the place hoping it goes right. It must be my long limbs. For the starter I’d make a Marco Pierre White special because I love that man — sourdough toast, butter, anchovies, thinly sliced shallots and chopped parsley on top. A beautiful jig on your palate. For the main I’d make a sun-dried tomato pasta, which I must say I’m very good at. And for dessert: a digestive biscuit.
If you could curate your own festival lineup with any artists, dead or alive, who’s headlining — and more importantly, why those acts? What do they represent to you or to the spirit of BILK?
For the headliner I’d have Oasis because they’re great for that sort of thing and I love them. Before Oasis I’d have The Doors. Actually, I don’t know — that wouldn’t really work, would it? The Doors would have to headline. Maybe they’d do separate days. Yeah, they’d do alternate days. Oasis would do it one day for the beer drinkers and people slinging cups of piss, and then I’d have The Doors on the next day and we’d have a big fire pit in the middle and everyone’s taking magic mushrooms. We’d all have a life-changing experience. It would be transformative.
With Essex, Drugs and Rock and Roll out and the Liveline‑funded grassroots tour underway, what’s next for BILK? Are we talking new music, a sonic reinvention, bigger shows, or something completely unexpected?
Old BILK is dead. New BILK is here. There will be new music, new shows, new line-up, new vibe, new style. I’m just on the microphone now instead of playing guitar. It’s all-round different. It’s a new band. We want people to be free, liberated, forget their worries, forget their doubts, forget judgement from others and society. Have a good time, wear what you want to wear, be who you want to be, love who you want to love, fuck who you want to fuck, and be free. Make mistakes — go out and do it. Go out and live. I know that wasn’t really the question, but I said it anyway.
A huge thanks to Sol for taking the time to sit down with us and dive into the new era of BILK. It’s clear this chapter means something, and the honesty behind it deserves to be heard loud. If you’re not already following the band, get on it — and if they roll through your town, don’t hesitate. Go see them live. BILK are built for the stage, and this new line‑up is ready to prove it.
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