They say you only get one chance to make a first impression. But for Bradley Simpson, his debut solo album is all about reintroducing himself. We’re sitting in the green room at COLOURS Hoxton where Simpson is playing an unofficial album release party to 300 people. When we chat, it’s two days away from the release of Simpson’s debut solo record, The Panic Years, and Simpson is in good spirits. He’s not exactly nervous, but there’s a feeling that he likens to looking down off a cliff into water and, after two years of meticulously working on this record, he’s ready to take the plunge.

It’s impossible not to discuss his decade-long work with his band The Vamps, which was formed in 2012 and was a time in his life that shaped his entry into adulthood and coloured his entire 20s. As a unit, they steadily released a number of albums and toured the globe. But now, at 29, Simpson is embarking on a new chapter: his own solo project. It’s a decision that, at first, terrified him — the thought of calling the shots on everything from the sound to the lyricism to the artwork was, of course, daunting. But it’s clear when speaking with him that it wasn’t something he wanted to do, but something he had to lean into for his sake.

It makes sense that now, teetering into his 30th year, he’s wrapping up everything he experienced over the last decade into an album aptly called The Panic Years. The album charts Simpson’s 20s, a kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences he felt over the last decade all wrapped up in 12 songs. “This album feels like it’s wrapped up my 20s,” he explains. “I knew that when I was writing it [The Panic Years] — at least the past 10 years of experiences in the band. But now that I’m looking back, it feels like it’s my moment to process things. It feels really good to have the album and then step into a new part of my life.”

Bradley Simpson sits down with 1883’s Kelsey Barnes to discuss the making of The Panic Years, entering his 30th year, why embracing new creative paths helped shape the album, and more.

I feel like releasing a debut album for a second time is an interesting thing. There’s a weird juxtaposition there because you’re coming into your own once again. Is that kind of the thing you’re working through?

A little bit. I feel like I worked through it 11 years ago, and now it’s like a rediscovery. It’s almost like unlearning to relearn who I am now, what I want to say, and how I want to sound. All of those things are really weird questions to ask myself at this point, but that’s exactly why I wanted to do it. I wanted to release solo music, and that excites me, but I think the prospect of a challenge and something different really excited me. I just wanted to push myself in a different way. I don’t know, I’ve learned a lot over the past two years about being a solo artist — how I react to it being just me rather than a collective. I’m feeling good about it, but it’s kind of strange.

When you work on something for two years, and then it becomes everybody else’s once you release it, that’s a chapter closing. Then you’re stepping into something else — even though you’ll be touring this album and existing in its world for a little bit. Does it feel like a chapter beginning, or does it feel like a chapter closing? Or is it both, in a way?

It’s a bit of both. I think the creative process of making the album — that chapter, although it closed a while ago when you handed the album in and finished mastering — then you move into the visuals and start thinking about the tour. It feels like it naturally connects to the album’s creative process. So that creation, the excitement, and the anticipation — that chapter feels like it’s closing. But now it feels like the beginning of spreading the word about the album, going out there, touring it, and letting the songs become everyone else’s. Like you said, they’re not my songs anymore — they’re for the people who listen, and they take on new life through that. Now it’s time to see what that looks like, what the tour looks like, and how it resonates with people. That’s really exciting because they’re almost like — what’s the term — pregnant with potential.

Yeah, you don’t know. I think it was “Daisies” that wasn’t even going to be a single, and then you made it a single because people loved it so much. The potential of that song took its own path.

100%. But they [the songs] have lived like that for so long, and the album has lived like that for so long. So now it’s asking — what can we do with this now? How can we present it on tour in a different way? How will the songs resonate? That’s really exciting.

I remember seeing you at one of your first solo gigs at The 100, I think it was around this time last year, and that was one of the sweatiest shows I’ve ever been to.

That’s the best compliment [laughs].

Performing live is really, really important to you, and you’ve been playing these unreleased songs and getting instant feedback from the crowd. How has the audience reaction influenced the production of the songs?

It’s been good. I think I tried, more so on this album, to think about the live aspect because I knew I wanted it to be a bit more of an organic, live, slightly rockier-sounding album. And I know that you want people to listen to the songs and be like, “I want to see this.” So, I kind of had that in mind when I was writing it. But then, I’m really bad — if I’ve lived with the songs for a year,and then I start touring them, I’m like, “Do you hate them?” I’m like, “I’m over it, ask me again in six months.

You want to change them up?

Yeah, I want to change them, I want to revisit them almost. I want to change the structure or add different moments within the songs. I think that’s always been really fun for me — to switch stuff up and almost breathe new life into it after it’s been this album version for so long. But I was thinking more about the live thing on this album because I love it. It’s my favorite thing too.

Especially with audience feedback when you’re playing unreleased songs, being able to see how they react to things, even if they don’t know the words. It must be interesting to be on stage and think, “Oh, they really liked that part. Maybe we should pursue that sound a little bit.”

100%. With “Daisies,” that kind of happened. But especially when they don’t know the songs at all, you get a bit of a gauge if the songs have been out online. But that’s something I didn’t want to lean into too much. I wanted to see the reaction firsthand, and that’s why we’ve been gigging the songs that haven’t been out for quite a while. You get a true gauge. It’s even as simple as if people are just nodding a bit more — it’s real subconscious feedback. So, that’s been nice. It’s different from just putting something out, which can be so disheartening online. You feel really good about a song, but maybe it doesn’t perform as well. I don’t think that’s necessarily a true representation of the song.

We see it all the time on TikTok — things take off years after they were released just because they find a certain audience. You never know, so you do have to actually release the song.

[Laughs] Yeah, exactly. You’re right. It could just be a timing thing, or whatever. It’s easy to get disheartened by it if something doesn’t click immediately. I don’t think that’s necessarily healthy, but just for a young or new artist, you can get so disheartened by the numbers. But if you were to take those numbers out and put them in a room…

Exactly. You’re like, “300 people? Only 300 people watched this TikTok?” That’s 300 people that are standing in the room.

Yeah, sold out. And if you stepped into that room and everyone was nodding, you’d be like, “Fuck yeah, that was great.” So, I wanted to keep it as tangible as possible.

That’s a very, very healthy way to look at it.

Just trying to retain some sanity [laughs].

Not to freak you out, but you turn 30 this year…

[Laughs] Thank you so much — I’m not freaking out or anything.

I feel like in your 30s, you really step into who you are. You stop giving a fuck, which is really, really nice. I feel like with the release of this album coming at the same time, it’s an interesting thing. Do you feel like you’re coming into your own?

Yeah, definitely. Anyone I’ve spoken to says 30s are great, so I’m excited. I was a little nervous about it, but everyone says it’s amazing. It’s like you’re scared to turn 30, but then it happens, and it’s great. I don’t really feel any kind of way about it. But I didn’t realize until maybe the last month that this album feels like it’s wrapped up my 20s. I knew that when I was writing it — at least the past 10 years of experiences in the band. But now that I’m looking back, it feels like it’s my moment to process things. It feels really good to have the album and then step into a new part of my life.

I’ve heard everything about the 30s being great. The whole not giving a fuck sounds amazing. I think it’ll change my approach to music, too. I’ve had that time where I was trying to find myself and exploring different things. Now, I feel like I’m settling into myself, knowing what I want. It’s definitely where I’m slowly but surely getting to.

I think even finding the sound you wanted to lean into with this record — that kind of reflects that approach, right?

Yeah, exactly. It’s like trial and error. There were about six months where I was really overwhelmed by the thought of doing it. I was thinking, “Where do I go?” I tried a lot of different things, but then I did one session and realized, I’ve always listened to rock and alternative music. I started playing guitar because I grew up on bands like that. I’ve always consistently listened to that. Even though I’ve worked in pop, and there is pop influence throughout this album in terms of songwriting sensibilities, I’ve always loved pop.

Yeah, and that’s the thing — there’s a reason pop is so easy to sing along to. You can have these beautiful and gritty soundscapes throughout, without it needing to be too bright.

Exactly. But I think there was a process of realizing that I’ve always listened to this music to switch off. It’s been getting into the industry and songwriting sessions where I started listening to music in a really analytical way — trying to dissect it and figure out why something is so good. I’d do that with a lot of genres or music that was relevant to me, but the only music I’d never overanalyze was alternative, the music that got me into it. I just enjoyed it.

Yeah, you could just switch off your music brain for a second and just disassociate.

Exactly. It made sense to lean into that because that’s the music that made me fall in love with music in the first place. I still listen to it as a fan. So when I landed on that sound, I was like, “Oh, this feels more natural.”

After being in a band for so long and being in the public eye for so long, I feel like anyone would be scared to make mistakes. Were you okay with allowing yourself to be uncomfortable in this creative process and just allowing yourself to make mistakes?

Not huge ones, but I definitely put that pressure on myself. I had a few conversations where people said, “You need to remember this is something brand new. You can’t really compare it to anything or how you felt during past stuff.” That put my mind at ease a bit. But naturally, you’re going to make mistakes—I’m going to make mistakes. I think it was just about being kinder to myself and saying, “Okay, maybe that didn’t happen the way I wanted, or I made a mistake, but I’m moving forward on the track I want to be on.” That gives me reassurance. I hated the thought of everything not being exactly how I wanted, and I wanted everything to be perfect. Making mistakes wasn’t something I loved, but I learned to allow it.

I’ve interviewed other artists, and they’ll say, “I worked on a song five years ago, thought it was crap, and then revisited it.” I think that allows you to have a bigger creative process. It’s nice to just create for the sake of creating.

Yeah, rather than putting huge amounts of pressure on yourself. There are so many different outlooks on it, too. Some people write three songs a day, and then there are people who won’t write a song until it just comes to them. That could be one a week, one a month, or one a year. I took that pressure off myself personally. I used to be like that — sitting down to write every day, quite regimented.

Almost like, “If I don’t do this, I’m not a songwriter.”

Exactly. “I’m going to wake up one day and not be able to exercise this muscle.” But the reality is, you need to go live a bit of life to really take it in.

Turn off the “songwriting brain” for a second and just think, “Oh, that would be a great lyric to put in a song,” and just revisit it later.

Yeah, especially because listeners don’t tend to take in music like that. It’s all feeling-based. I think you just have to tap into that and, like you said, not overanalyze the lyrics or conversations.

I wanted to talk to you about “Getting Clear,“ because I feel like it’s not something that people write about very often — self-acceptance, self-belief. I wanted to ask you about the writing process and the inspiration behind that song

That’s one of my favourites. It’s such a beautiful song. I’ve never written a song like that before. I feel like it’s the song I wanted to hear at that time. You know those moments when you just want to hear something like that? I’d written about love so much, about the ups and downs. I was in a headspace where I’d been trying to do a few things throughout the day, but I wasn’t loving it. Then Andrew, the guy I was working with at the time, just played these chords. The chords were just major, major, major. They felt really euphoric. I thought, “This can’t be about love.” I wasn’t in that place at the time. I felt like I had turned a corner and was feeling good about what I was writing. So I decided to write about that. It was mainly about tapping into how I actually felt rather than overanalyzing or preempting things.

So, it felt like that moment when I realized, “I’m on the right track,” and I felt good about things—especially coming from a place where you don’t feel good. A lot of people have those light-bulb moments, you know? One day, you wake up and you’re like, “I’m done with feeling this way.” You go have your coffee and feel good about your day.

Can you talk about your growth over the last decade as an artist and songwriter? Big question.

Big question [laughs]. I feel like the whole solo thing at the beginning felt quite selfish, to be honest. I really struggled with that because I’ve always worked in a group setting. I think, naturally, as a person, you’re used to being around people. I never wanted to be the center of attention. So, especially the first year or two, it felt really uncomfortable. But I’ve learned to lean into it, in a way that feels good. I’ve viewed it more as a cathartic, therapeutic thing, a nice way to exercise anything I feel like I need to. So, in that sense, I’ve grown by sitting into it and being more honest. I think I’ve struggled to be vulnerable in the past.

I think that resonates with a lot of people. When you’re in a band, you have other people’s opinions. You can say, “Hey, do we like this?” Now, it’s just you. Is it something you actually like, and want to put out? Having the confidence to say, “No, I stand behind this. I like it.”

That’s hard for anyone, I think. You look to others for validation, and that’s a natural thing. I still do it sometimes, but you need those moments where you just trust your instincts. That’s the biggest thing I’ve gotten better at. If I feel good about something, I’ll follow that feeling because that’s all you’ve got, in the end.

“The Band’s Not Breaking Up,” I wanted to ask you about the bridge. It’s very cathartic when I was listening to it, so I wanted to know about that bridge in particular. Can you give us some context about writing that song?

The title really felt right. I wanted to reference what the title alludes to — not just the surface. The song is really about those constants in your life that you think will always be there, but then a relationship doesn’t go the way you expected. So, the song is about that realization. The song isn’t vocally stretching, but I wrote the bridge — the middle eight and the outro — a week later. When I listened back, I realized the song needed a moment, something more powerful.

It’s almost like a call to arms, in a way.

Exactly! The whole song is intimate, where you’re holding your emotions in and trying to be sincere. But then the outro? I just thought, “No, I need to get angry about this situation.” That’s what the song needed. Sometimes, you just have to let those emotions out.

It must be weird having people hear it now. It’s been your baby for two years, and now it’s out there.

Yeah, it’s a strange thing to grapple with.

You wrote around 20 songs and then cut it down, right?

Yeah, it wasn’t like the usual process where I wrote 50 or 60 songs and then cut it down. Each song came pretty quickly. Early on, I thought, “If a song takes more than a certain amount of time or if I’m struggling to finish lyrics, I’ll scrap it.” By the time I got to year 13 or 14 of writing, I knew I had the core of the album. I wrote a few more, but most of them were done pretty quickly and felt right for the album. After that, I thought, “I’m not going to keep banging my head against it.”

Are you precious with tracklists at all? Do you think certain songs should be in a certain order?

A little bit, yeah. It’s funny because I had a few conversations where people said, “You should move this song.” But I still think an album is a story. It’s a journey, 100%. You want to present it in the way that you want it to be listened to. I wanted people to listen to it in the order I intended. It’s a journey with ups and downs, and I wanted it to end the way it does—trying to figure out what the last song would be, which is “The Panic Years.”

It is an interesting way to end the album.

Yeah, I’ve always thought it’s nice to end on a more somber note. But I wanted to end it with a sense of, “Okay, it’s been a rollercoaster of ups and downs,” and then give that sense of light at the end of the tunnel. “The Panic Years” is meant to reflect that.

Did you have the album name before the song, or did you write the song first and then decide on the album title?

I had “The Panic Years” in my head a few times in different forms, and I knew it felt like the right album title. I wrote two versions of the song. The first one, I wrote in New York, where we were recording the album, but I hated it. Then I went in with a guy named Josef, who’s an amazing Scottish singer-songwriter. I was a fan of his. He’s so good, with a beautiful voice. I went in with him, played him the full verse, and said, “I have this, but I don’t want it to sit in this melancholy place. I want to lift it up.” So we just talked about being in love and those moments when you’re not used to feeling certain things. It’s that strange feeling when you realize, “Oh, this is nice… but it feels weird, too.”

You want to feel uncomfortable because you’re like, “Is this supposed to feel like this?”

Exactly. And that’s what I wanted the album to end with — a positive note. After all the ups and downs, I want people to take away from this that even when you’re going through tough times, you get to the end and look back on it fondly. It’s part of growth. You get through it, learn from it, and end up with some of the best stories. Then you can park it and move forward.

I love that this album is coming out during your 30th year. It feels poetic, in a way. I know you probably didn’t plan it that way, but it’s almost like the album is wrapping up your 20s, and now you get to start a new decade.

I didn’t even think about it like that! It wasn’t intentional at all. Originally, it was supposed to come out last year, so it’s purely by chance that it’s coming out now. But you’re right — it feels like the right time.

Last question: If you could manifest something for yourself in 2025, what would it be?

I’m not very good at manifesting, but I’m starting to get there. Do you manifest?

I do a little bit. Positive thinking, putting good things out into the world.

Yeah, I think I hope for a good decade in my 30s. I’d love to tour the album, meet as many people as possible, and then maybe gain some new perspective once the album’s out. It would be nice to step into a new chapter of my life and see how it feels.

That’s still a pretty positive manifestation. You’re just keeping it low key.

I’m bad at putting stuff out there. I don’t want to jinx it. But we’ll see what happens.

The Panic Years is out now.

Interview Kelsey Barnes
Photography Garry Jones