Read this if you’re scared of dying: An interview with Circa Waves
“Just did the school run, and it’s absolutely treacherous. The roads are pure ice,” Circa Waves lead singer Kieran Shudall speaks from his home in Liverpool on a cold January morning. The streets are steeped with snow, the nights are coming in quickly, and any glimmer of T-shirt weather remains a blip in the distance. “The main roads are slushy, but the side roads are just like ice rinks, so there’s like cars just sliding sideways down the road. It’s fucking terrifying.”
This may all seem very British and mundane, opening up a conversation about an exciting new album with a standard chat about the weather; however, those mundane chats were something that Shudall was dreaming of a little over a year ago, during a period when all of a sudden life started taking itself very seriously. This was when he briefly traded in the predictability of poor weather and school runs for serious conversations, a hospital bed and 99 strangers staring at him.
“They come over with a form that you’ve gotta sign that says, ‘You’ve got a one in 100 chance of dying when you’re operated on’, and you have to sign it,” he recalled. “And then they have an image with 100 people with one of them coloured in like ‘That’s what it means’. I guess for people who don’t understand the concept of one in 100.”
He continued, “I was like ‘Fuck’, and I remembered winning on the grand national when I was a kid, which was sort of like 120 to one, and that’s all I could think about. I was like, ‘Fuck, this is quite similar to that’. But, you know, it is what it is; that was the scariest bit, just signing that paper.”
Shudall found himself in hospital requiring emergency surgery after being on tour with Circa Waves for some time. Following persistent chest pains, which were previously dismissed as inflammation, he later received a worried phone call from health officials demanding he return to hospital immediately.
“I think it was May 2023. I just got mad heart pain, like a squeezing of my heart. I went to the doctors, and they said it was [inflammation], so I just carried on, on these [prescription] pills, playing gigs in incredible agony. Pain that I’d never felt, like, ‘This is fucking bonkers’,” recalled Shudall, surprisingly chipper as he discussed what could have been devastating circumstances. “They booked me in for this scan in about three months’ time because they were like, ‘You’re really young, nothing to worry about; it’s probably just inflammation’. I then toured America, toured Europe, toured a bunch of places, doing what we normally do, going out, drinking, having fun, still on stage in a lot of pain every night.”
He added, “I finally went for this scan, which is where they could see a full x-ray of my heart, and the next day, they rang and said, ‘You need to come to hospital because you could die at any minute.’”
The doctors explained that one of Shudall’s arteries was completely blocked. His chest pain was so bad on stage because every time he was jumping and doing what frontmen usually do, his heart had to work extra hard to make up for the artery incapable of pumping blood.
“I was ready to have a heart attack any minute, really,” he said. “Within two days, I was in hospital getting operated on. They go up your arm with a thing, and they go to your heart and open it all up. Yeah, it’s fucking bonkers, just did not expect it at all. It knocked me for six.”
Shudall had time to ponder his potential death, especially when he was given a consent form which saw him agree to the procedure even though there was a chance he could die as a result of it; however, the whole thing went by so fast that it was hard for him to get too worried or existential. Before he knew it, his artery was unblocked, and he was back on the road again.
“They’re really good at these things now. Luckily, Liverpool has some of the best heart surgery in the country. They went in, opened up the artery and was like, ‘Yeah, you’re fine now’,” he continued. “I’m on drugs for the rest of my life, but that’s like taking vitamins every morning, you know what I mean? Within a week I was going on tour to Australia.”
As he was back on the road, playing to crowds of Australians and taking his new heart medication, Shudall finally had time to think about what he had been through and come to terms with his close brush with death. It’s one of life’s cruel contradictions that we struggle to really appreciate the good until we are confronted with the bad, but when Shudall had this period to look back on his life and reflect on what he would be leaving behind if he were to go, he was happy with what he’d done. And isn’t that all anyone can ask for? That revelation gave him a newfound appreciation for his life, both the excitement that comes with being a rockstar and the strange beauty hidden in the everyday mundane.
“I came out of the hospital, and they said, ‘Go and get therapy, go and have a therapy session because it’s important to talk to someone’. I went and chatted to this guy and spoke about the fear of dying and all that; it’s a pretty standard therapy session; it’s fine to be scared and all that,” said Shudall. “But I remember leaving that and walking around Liverpool City Centre, just looking up at the buildings and being like, ‘Fucking hell, these buildings are so beautiful, and the sky looks amazing today, and wow, I can go in that shop and buy a can of coke if I want, or a Dr Pepper, or any drink I want, it’s amazing!’ I just felt this weird childlike thing again where everything felt special all of a sudden, and I had this second chance.”
This new outlook on life and an ability to see beauty in the everyday is what inspired Circa Waves’ latest album, Death & Love Pt 1. As Shudall was forced to look back on his life with a newfound rose-tinted gaze, he recalled the fantastic times he had growing up in Liverpool and having the chance to tour the world in a band with his friends.
“I wanted to make the idea of if I could only make one more record, what would it be?” he elaborated. “And this was the epitome of everything I loved and everything I enjoy writing and enjoy playing live. Loads of guitars again. We’ve certainly always used guitars, but I wanted them to be at the forefront again.”
As we discuss the inspiration behind the album, it evokes a conversation laced with nostalgia, as Shudall talks about growing up surrounded by the Liverpool music scene, waist-deep in skinny jeans during a time when all people wanted to do was get drunk and play music. The smell of spilt booze and unwashed beer mats almost fills the room as he speaks, and feet stick to the floor ever so slightly as those images of pissed-up gigs become clear as ever.
“The Bar Fly used to have indie nights all the time, every Thursday we’d go to the indie night there, it was class. There’d be fucking great new Liverpool bands on, and everyone was in a band and was tryna be The Cribs or something. It felt raucous, skinny jeans were at their height, it was all great,” he said. “The Zanzibar in Liverpool was an awesome little venue that everyone played, and it was the first venue that everyone sold out for the first time. There’s loads, and then we started getting busier.”
He continued, “We played the Kazimier, which was an amazing venue in Liverpool which, unfortunately, the council decided to build flats on. Good one, Liverpool City Council. Yeah, there’s been loads of cool places. Obviously, venues are shutting down left, right and centre, which is a shame, but at the same time, in Liverpool, you’ve got quite a lot of new little venues opening up all the time, so, hopefully, there’s still places where young bands can flourish.”
It has to be said that without even knowing the album’s backstory, that sense of nostalgia is evident from the first listen. Death & Love Pt 1 is a beautiful record, filled with songs that will flood the emptiest dancefloors and big choruses begging to be belted. Even the more serious moments on the album, such as songs like ‘Blue Damselfly’, where Shudall takes solace knowing his wife is strong and would be okay even if he were to die during that operation, the album stays true to the newfound beauty that Shudall embraced when writing it.
Is nearly dying the secret to a good album, then? Maybe, although it’s not backed by any science, and this quick review is by no means an endorsement of nearly dying in the pursuit of art; however, if you were to ask Shudall, there is logic behind why Death & Love Pt 1 has come out so well, and it’s all to do with firsts.
“I do think that the reason we get worse as we get older at writing songs is because you’re always at your best when you’re having your firsts at everything,” he answered. “Your first love, your first drunken night out, the first time you have sex, the first time you dance on a dancefloor. That’s why I liked that first Arctic Monkeys record, the first Strokes record, arguably our record. I do think this new record of ours is good because it’s the first time I’ve ever thought I was gonna die. It’s when emotions are pure and brand new. That’s when they’re the most amazing.”
It’s normal to be scared of dying, even if you have to be forced to think about it. However, that fear shouldn’t be a dominating factor in your life. Don’t wait for the bad to acknowledge the good. Look up, look around. The buildings are beautiful, and Dr Pepper has never tasted better. The next time you worry that life is fleeting, do yourself a favour and listen to this new record to remember, more importantly, that life is fun.
