One Sunny Afternoon with The Orchestra (For Now)

Words: Ellis Barker

Photos: Charlotte Barker

It has been the best day of the year, for now. It seems to me that, when we’re given the first warmth to thaw our bones and the first sun to blind our eyes, that people tend to seize the day a little more willingly. We’ve been blessed with some of the most truly beautiful days of the year, and the weather could be gone come Monday, so everyone mutters Carpe Diem under their breath and makes the most of it. Perhaps the goal is to live every day like it’s a scorching hot Saturday. Leeds is pulsating with this invigorating energy, the air thick

with the intoxicating mix of sweet pollen, cut grass and the collective stretching-out of a

people coming out of hibernation. What I’m trying to say is that it’s really, really sunny and everyone is in the park. Down the road, down the hill, and around the corner, however, I am asking questions to nearly half an orchestra.

Ensconced in the buttery, warm light of the Brudenell Social Club pool room, I am introduced to Joe Scarisbrick, frontman for The Orchestra (For Now), a band with a name only half as provocative and intriguing as its members and their music. Alongside him are Millie Kirby and Neil Thomson, bass and guitar respectively. Since their debut single Wake Robin in November of 2024, the band have been carving out a place for themselves outside of the shadow of their Windmill scene roots. Art-rock, prog-rock, post-rock, whatever you want to call them. I don’t believe in genre labels anymore. It’s just violently enchanting, and stunningly powerful music. With two EPs under their belt and

whispers of an album on the horizon, the band currently stands on a precipice, of what they are, and where they will be very soon.

I would say I am pretty woeful at snooker. Which doesn’t tend to keep me up at night because I am safe in the knowledge that most others are as well. Not Joe, though. A regular Ronnie O’Sullivan, he nimbly scuttles around the vast table, potting shot after shot, all the while cracking wise and keeping an ever-present eye on the Arsenal game. Babysat by my sister on photography duties, he makes his joy at the situation clear: “I’m getting my photograph taken whilst playing my favourite game. This is the best day ever.” Joe’s

high spirits are matched by their band mates, who do most of the talking. Despite the exhaustion that comes from their current touring the length and breadth of the isles, they are ever appreciative of their situation and the moment and make for an interview that feels more like a catch-up with friends.

The band perhaps exists in two states simultaneously, the studio and the stage, both on their own journeys. “The end goal is definitely a studio band,” Joe explains, “but whilst we’re young and fresh we’ve got to get out there.” The difference perhaps comes down to a case of inward versus external gratification, both of which take on a necessary role for the band’s development. Millie elaborates, “I think at the moment, coming out of a really good show and everyone being like ‘oh that was great’ is a really good moment, and the studio is completely different to that. It’s still a great experience, but I think we are all enjoying the excitement at the moment.”

The dichotomy between the two sides to the group is reflected in their approach to songwriting as well. What used to be a sole focus on songs that would sound best when reproduced live is now joined by the new possibilities, brought on by studio experimentation. “The most normal way is that Joe will bring one or two core ideas, and we’ll flesh those out as a band, and sometimes we’ll add new sections. We tend to write in quite a linear way, starting with the start and working forwards.” Neil explains their work with a genial gleam in his eye, with the authority of a decades-on-the-job tradesman. “I think historically we’ve always seen ourselves as a live band because that’s how we started, everything was made up of live shows, but now we’re looking at recording stuff, we’re trying to kinda forget about the live side and think more about that later.” I find Millie’s answer perfectly encapsulates the band’s growing maturity as songwriters: “What I’ve

found with completing a song is that we’ll now look into the song as deeply as possible. It’s like if you have a wet cloth and you wring all the water out of it until it’s completely dry. Since joining the band, it’s made me realise that everyone looks into every aspect of the songs so closely, everything is really thought through.”

This maturity carries over into the working relationship of the band members. I find that a band can be one of the most intimate and personal relationships a person can have, a bond often overlooked by even the members themselves. So, to have that with a group with as many members as TO(FN) requires a great deal of grace and understanding between

everyone involved. “I think there’s naturally more outspoken people in the band than others, I feel like that’s completely normal in every single band, but there’s a few times where we’ve passed around Bill’s hat or a book or something and said what we’ve thought about the song. Everyone says their piece; it’s a very healthy method.” The way the band talk about and act around each other is akin to a found family, or maybe the most insufferable sitcom of all time. There’s a clear unspoken language between them all, and that reflects in the performance. TO(FN)’s songs are a sprawling, intricate web of notes that threaten to overwhelm the listener, but the band control them like they’re veteran yo-yoers. “On stage there’s quite a bit of cueing, but not so much anymore. Various people will cue different people at different bits, but for the most part, people just know the material. I think the communication's kind of instinctive, with people just looking at each other."

Much to my delight, we are later joined by fellow drummer Charlie Hancock, whose across the-pond accent initially catches me off guard. It’s a reminder of the cultural melting pot that is the band’s city of origin. I always forget that London is actually a place where people live and work, and not just some over-stimulating cultural mecca you visit on occasion. Perhaps honing your craft in a city of such rich musical heritage as The Big Smoke makes for a skillset a cut above the average joe. It would certainly appear that way for TO(FN). I ask Charlie about his approach to his drum work.

From my own perspective, I find it incredibly melodic playing, an impassioned percussive monologue, harmonising his own voice in with the choir. Utilising changes in dynamics and looseness, tempo and feel, it all makes for a very emotive performance. “I think instinctual is probably the best way to put it. It’s difficult, because when we’re first songwriting, it's mostly just the chord structure and how we’re doing that, but once Joe adds lyrics on top of that, I change the drum part to be a little bit more lyrical. It’s very adaptive. I mean, most of the parts I change on the night, a lot of improv.”

Much as it is with the rest of the band, Charlie’s music comes from within. He and Millie discuss where the band’s sound is going in the future. “We’re just kind of stepping out into the light a little bit more. Getting away from some of the angstier sounds and themes that we’ve had, and kind of moving in a sunnier direction.” There’s something to be said

about a change in sound for a band whose music is such an open reflection of them as people. “It has a similar sound, but something a bit lighter than previous. There is some whimsy in there for sure.” It leaves me ever more curious to hear some new material.

“We’re not being that coy about things,” says Neil, “or at least we don’t intend to come across as coy.” I am impressed by both the frankness and the confidence with which the band talk about their upcoming not-so-mystery project. It is an album, it is different but a natural-feeling development for the band, and they have quite a clear direction for it. There is no mention of how far along it is, but the self-assuredness with which the guys talk about the work, like they’ve already got the whole album streaming in their heads, reassures me that it’s going to be a true contender in the battle for my headphones.

With all this out in the open then, my questions shift. Do the band feel the weight of expectation upon their shoulders when looking ahead to their own future? Are the audience behind their eyeballs, in the corners of their minds as they craft their songs? “When we’re making music, we’re sort of just all in a small, sweaty room together, there’s no outside world, there’s no space for it,” explains Charlie. “I think we take that more into account when we’re making Instagram posts and stuff like that, as opposed to when we’re writing.” The unbearable, ever-present weight of the content factory hangs like an anvil above the head of every contemporary creative, and its shadow weighs on TO(FN) as it does the rest of us. In that sense, the practice room becomes a reprieve, a space to think clearly. Neil and Millie share the same point. “We’ve always been very aware in the songwriting process of how an audience will perceive this, but we’re not really thinking about the audience as the people that are going to be actually there listening. It’s more like us picturing ourselves

as the audience, like ‘if we were listening to this, what would we be thinking?” Millie adds on, “I think it’s more a thought after we’ve written a song rather than before it, we’re not thinking about what people would like to see from us, it’s more a reflection of ‘people would like this part and this part’."

Towards the end of my conversation, I start to care less about asking insightful, thought-provoking questions and more about enjoying my beer, and the sun, and the great company, and the high of the sunny afternoon creeps down from the nape of my neck to the small of my back. Talk turns whimsical, and with the snooker table as a staging ground, the band plan their corporate takeover of the music industry. When asked what their dream merch line would be, ideas bounce back and forth across the emerald felt. “Honestly? Some kind of car dealership.” Joe’s hands gesticulate wildly, and I can see the ideas form behind his eyes in real time. “The Dealership (for now). some type of polo maybe, with Volkswagen. Actually, I’d like to partner with LNER. Just for the branding opportunities on trains. I find them all lacking.” Millie goes another route. “Honestly, one of the first things that popped into my head was TO(FN) Barbies, our own line of action figures.” Toy Story 6 brand integration, perhaps? Neil rounds off the meeting with his idea of trading cards; “You could do members, songs, EP’s, instruments, even individual parts. Like, ‘I got a card for Bill’s arpeggios on Hattrick’.”

The rest of the day passes without surprises. It is no surprise that I have a wonderful evening with my friends, it is no surprise that my cold beer tastes excellent in the warmth of the setting sun, and it is no surprise that The Orchestra (For Now) deliver one of the most electrifying live sets I have seen in recent memory. We are given glimpses into the band’s

new era, their new material totally ascending, musically and spiritually. The same structures and recurring ideas are there, but with less aggression and more purpose. Wide open plains of sound allow for individual instruments to roam free and explore. The group have matured their sound so that they still utterly command your attention, but they do it, not with

intimidation, but with a pleasant welcoming. The band’s two EP’s have drawn a line under their first chapter, and it’s clear that this next chapter will be bigger, bolder, and something uncompromisingly theirs. The Orchestra (For Now) are a group that know exactly where they are headed, and that allows them to relish every step in their journey to that destination. With every song and with every performance, they invite you to do the same.