Start Listening To: The Slow Country
Blending sincerity with chaos, The Slow Country are carving out their own space between folk tradition and widescreen rock.
Manchester seven-piece The Slow Country make music that’s both emotionally rich and sonically restless. Blending alt-folk sincerity with alt-rock unpredictability, their sound is built on contrasts, duelling vocals, violin and mandolin alongside guitars and grit, a tug-of-war between nostalgia and immediacy. Their latest single Right There Inside is a striking example: part love letter, part wake-up call, it captures the band’s flair for intimate storytelling and grand arrangements. We caught up with The Slow Country to talk about resisting the lure of the past, building a collaborative world around their music, and what it means to be a seven-piece band making room for every voice.
For those unfamiliar with your music, can you tell us who you are, where you’re from and about the music you make?
We are The Slow Country, a 7-piece band formed in Manchester. We operate in the space between alt-rock and alt-folk: intertwining guitars, mandolins and violins, duelling vocals, surrealism and stupidity, dancing and crying – we try to be sincere and raucous in everything we do. – (Joe)
‘Right There Inside’ feels like both a hug and a wake-up call. What inspired its message about resisting nostalgia and staying present?
I’ve seen people be consumed by nostalgia because it can be such a powerful emotion. They are full of this deep yearning for a glossy version of the past, and longing to go back to a bygone moment and revel in that beauty again. When we meet with old friends, nostalgia is often the first port of call as we reminisce over how simple, beautiful, and stupid we used to be. Nostalgia is intoxicating, it’s safe, and it’s addictive. An overindulgence in nostalgia is a lot like being obsessed with someone who broke your heart. The memory is comforting, but it isn’t healthy to dwell there for too long. Life is best lived when we are present enough to be carefree and make new memories.
I wrote Right There Inside to an old friend who is addicted to nostalgia, as an urge to get back to living. - (Joe)
Joe’s talked about nostalgia being dangerous “in high doses.” Do you find that tension between past and present crops up often in your songwriting?
Themes of longing and desperation certainly crop up in our songs, and both of these emotions definitely have a retrospective quality to them. Our characters and narratives are often directed by an adoration of what once was. In this regard, there is a great deal of tension between past and present in the same way there is tension between what we want and what we can’t have.
But then again, all the band are motivated by an overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread, so that could always explain it. - (Joe)
The new single feels lighter than your debut ‘Walking Song’. Was that shift intentional, or did it just evolve naturally from where you were at creatively?
It felt like an intentional shift. Right There Inside is the second of three standalone singles, we chose these tracks to record first as we feel they show three distinct sides to the band. We love experimenting by shifting between perspectives and moods in songs and we feel our third single will help prove this even more so. - (Charlie)
There’s a gorgeous push-and-pull between folk and rock in your sound. How do you navigate that balance in the writing and arranging process?
That tension between folk and rock is definitely at the heart of The Slow Country. It’s not something we consciously set out to balance—it’s more that we’ve always been drawn to both ends of that spectrum. Folk gives the songs space & emotional clarity, while the rock elements bring a kind of weight & intensity. - (Gina)
You’ve been compared to everything from Fleetwood Mac to The War on Drugs - are there any influences that might surprise people?
We’ve been writing and performing for a few years now, and this has given us a strong understanding of who we are and the musicians we draw inspiration from. There are mainstays of influence in our songwriting, and I think Fleetwood Mac and The War on Drugs are probably a few of those. However, being a big band, all 7 of us have quirks in our music taste, and there are moments where these shine through. When we’ve been in the studio, we’ve used some artists for points of reference that are a long way away from the overall vibe of Walking Song and Right There Inside.
Nils Frahm, Fat White Family, Aphex Twin, Mary in The Junkyard, Loudon Wainwright III and Lankum are some of the more “surprising” influences. – (Joe)
From The Last Dinner Party to Opus Kink, you’ve played with a wide range of acts. How have those support slots shaped your live presence or approach to performance?
Playing support slots for bands like The Last Dinner Party & Opus Kink has had a huge impact on our live presence & performance mindset. Both acts bring such distinct energy & watching how they hold a crowd & build tension has taught us a lot about pacing & dynamics — not just musically, but physically too. It’s made us far more intentional with our setlist flow & how we craft atmosphere from the very first note. Every show is a chance to turn heads, & that pressure has definitely sharpened our performances. -(Gina)
You’re headed into your biggest shows to date - The Great Escape, Truck, Wilderness. What are you most looking forward to about playing festivals this summer?
We’re super excited about the energy festivals bring, there's nothing like it!! Playing shows like The Great Escape, Truck, & Wilderness is a huge step for us, & we're looking forward to connecting with new audiences who might be hearing our music for the first time. - (Gina)
The artwork for both singles has been really distinctive. What’s your collaborative process like with Hugo Winder-Lind, and how important is visual identity for The Slow Country?
The visual side of The Slow Country is really important to us—it helps build the world around the music. With the singles, Hugo had already painted the pieces before the songs were finished, which made the process really interesting. Rather than commissioning something to match the music, it was more about finding these visual moods that already existed & felt emotionally connected to the tracks. There’s something powerful about working that way—it feels less literal, more instinctive. - (Gina)
You're self-producing everything - what does that autonomy allow you to explore sonically that might not happen in a traditional studio setup?
For our singles, we worked with Carney Sound Production in the most beautiful make-shift fashion possible. 7 band members (along with the producer Matt Carney), crammed into a not-so soundproofed rented practice room, trying to be dead silent while one member is recording is a comical sight. Punctured air beds, James snoring, allergic reactions to dust and a week spent eating food with almost no nutritional value, also contributed to an unhinged creativity like no other. Working with Matt was fantastic, he allowed all 7 of us to bunk at his house whilst recording which gave us the time to find a rhythm within our process and gave us the luxury of being able to record from the moment we woke up to the moment we all got zipped up in our sleeping bags with bellies full of fish and chips. - (Finn)
There’s a strong storytelling thread in your music. Do your lyrics usually stem from personal experience, or are you more interested in narrative fiction?
I think both styles of writing have an important role within our songs. We have a good balance of both lyrical styles in our setlist. I write my lyrics at the same time as I write the music, so I like to let the feel of the song dictate whether a narrative is appropriate or whether a theme from my own life is better. Walking Song had this hypotonic swagger to the guitar, so for me it made sense to try and deliver a surrealist narrative, and the same is true for Right There Inside. However, the more tender songs in our setlist have needed a more emotional and real-life approach to the lyrics, and so we might draw from experiences of grief or depression, for example. - (Joe)
You’ve worked closely with fashion designer Rabbit Baby - how did that relationship come about, and how does it feed into your broader artistic world?
We had been big admirers of Sophie’s (Rabbit Baby’s) work for some time, so we ended up reaching out. We met up for a few pints and realised we were very much on the same wavelength! Sophie ended up asking us to play a few shows for her and we have loved wearing her clothes ever since. Working with Sophie has definitely helped us realise the importance of collaboration and how working with other art forms can help build a stronger narrative for our music to live in. She has been incredibly kind and supportive towards so many amazing bands in the scene so we feel very honoured to work with her. - (Charlie)
What do you love right now?
Viagra Boys, Alan Partridge & Jutrzenka Familijne wafers - (Gina)
What do you hate right now?
Broken cowboy boots, the ever-inflating price of bagels, and coming home drunk as hell at 3am, forgetting that you’ve stripped the bed. - (Joe)
Name an album you’re still listening to from when you were younger and why it’s still important to you?
Funeral – Arcade Fire.
That record is an absolute triumph in melody and lyricism. Every song from the record shows a mastery in arranging many instruments in complex and overlapping ways – there are so many melodies in each song, you can always find a new part of a song to obsess over. I remember being little and listening to ‘Wake Up’ for the first time with my brother and getting goosebumps all over my body because of how ethereal and powerful those vocals are.
This record is still so important to us today because it’s a perfect template on how to arrange songwriting in a big band without ever overcomplicating a song and ruining its beauty. – (Joe)
This lineup feels like it has a lot of creative voices. What’s the writing dynamic like as a seven-piece - how do you make space for everyone while staying cohesive?
Being a 7-piece is a real balancing act, but that’s also where the magic happens. There are so many different creative voices, and we each bring something unique to the table, whether it's in the way we approach a song or the sounds we experiment with. Everyone has their own musical influences & ideas, which can make the writing process really dynamic—we’re constantly bouncing off each other. Sometimes that means jamming until something clicks, other times someone brings in a nearly finished idea & we build around it collaboratively. It’s not always smooth & sometimes we will leave things for months until revisiting an idea, but that push and pull often leads to the most surprising and satisfying results. - (Gina)