The hype machine is notorious for grinding people up and spitting them out.
When one considers Leon Bridges, there’s little doubt that he’s one of the special exceptions. His music – equal parts fresh and nostalgic – is soaked in a soulful swagger only matched by his natty attire. His debut album Coming Home has swept him along on a wave of incredible success, winning over critics and fans alike. When Hot Press catches up with the crooner, he has indeed gone home, to sunny Fort Worth, Texas; just don’t expect him to fully comprehend the journey he’s been on.
“It’s crazy how fast everything has gone,” he reflects in his gentle southern drawl. “It wasn’t until last October that I quit my job washing dishes. The thing is, you don’t have any time to think about it, because it all moves so quickly. Sometimes, I think it might be nice to have a slightly slower pace, to take it all in a bit more. But I don’t really get to control that.”
Indeed, while the world clamours for a piece of 2015’s breakout stars, the one thing that Leon does get to control in full is his sound. Influenced by a childhood singing gospel music at home, and drawing heavily on the influences of '50s and '60s R&B, not many people would have predicted it would cause the craze it has; least of all, the man himself.
“I didn’t see it fitting in at all,” he admits. “Before I released my music, I didn’t know what might happen, but then I don’t like to jump the gun! If you look at quote unquote ‘revival’ music, mine is very different to what’s out there. It’s not all charisma, with a big vocal range. I didn’t know how people were going to receive that.”
Of course, we now know just how it was received – and the comparisons it’s prompted. Names of classic artists have been thrown about with abandon; while Leon understands the need some people feel to comment on the similarity, it’s not something he’s ready to embrace.
“I don’t like to compare, but if you listen to Sam Cooke or Jesse Belvin, well my voice sounds a bit like that. But I’ll never be another Otis Redding or Sam Cooke, and I don’t want to be. It’s flattering when people compare me to those artists. It’s like saying LeBron is the new Michael Jordan; it’s actually a pretty different style.” He laughs: “I’m not just a ‘throwback.’”
At the same time, there was no cherry-picking done.
“I could have easily taken that classic sound, and just used different pieces of it, but I wanted to go all the way in. I felt that, as a young black man, I needed to go back to the roots – where the story started – and keep that going. Of course, it’s going to come out in my own way, naturally; coming from listening to hip-hop and R&B, it’s going to sound fresh. I love old country music, for example, so my style will reflect that a little too.”
It was a different type of style that set Leon’s big break in motion. His razor-sharp dress sense caught the eye of a girl in a Fort Worth bar, who felt her boyfriend and Leon would bond over a passion for fashion; that boyfriend was White Denim guitarist Austin Jenkins.
“The first time we met, he didn’t even tell me who he was,” Leon admits. “White Denim wouldn’t really have been a household name. It took a bartender who saw him talking to me, and pulled me aside asking ‘Hey, you know who that is?’” A short time later, Jenkins hit one of Leon’s open-mic slots, and was immediately smitten.
Inviting him to record some tracks – in a suitably vintage analogue style, of course – the wheels of Leon’s career were set in motion. Two tracks were posted online; the resulting buzz saw his star rise irresistibly, coming to a head at the most talked about gigs of South By SouthWest this past March, where Jenkins and White Denim bandmate Josh Block were part of his band – as they have been ever since.
“There was definitely a little bit of pressure,” Leon admits. “Everyone had heard those couple of songs online, so there was real excitement, but also a lot of expectation. I just had to try to give them an amazing show.”
It sounds simple, but it was a pretty massive step up for a guy who was making music in-between shifts scrubbing plates just a few months earlier. He admitted to being apprehensive during those early shows; how does he feel about performing now?
“I’m still adjusting to it. I like to make music, and I like to perform, but this whole idea of being famous is a little bit scary to me. I still get nervous when I’m on stage. It’s kind of crazy that a lot of people know who I am.”
Indeed, fame has stretched far beyond his home state. The White Denim boys may well have told him of their famous nights in Whelan’s, but Leon won’t have the opportunity to visit Wexford Street; demand has dictated his debut Irish headliner be moved to The Olympia.
“That surprised me big-time,” he smiles. “The only time we’ve played Ireland was for Longitude, which was mostly young kids. Now we have to move to a big theatre – what on earth is going on? It’s crazy how I’ve gone from one world to another.”