Westside Cowboy, the Manchester indie-pop band, have enjoyed a rapid rise, but they are determined to go at their own pace, rejecting the pressures of technology and perfectionism that they say can stifle creativity.
Fast rise, old-school mindset
By 2025, only two years after forming, the band had won Glastonbury's emerging talent competition, supported Geese on a major indie tour, and signed to a major label. "We'd be lying if we said there wasn't a little bit of pressure," says vocalist and guitarist Jimmy Bradbury.
Their debut album, It Goes On, recalls the Feelies, Parquet Courts, and Courtney Barnett, touching on the muscular end of indie-pop, a little midwestern emo, and a chugging drive inspired by the Velvet Underground. "We weren't trying to make some career-defining thing," says drummer Paddy Murphy. "We love the way debut albums sound when a band feels hungry but still not quite settled. There's unnecessary pressure on new bands to bottle everything on the first attempt. It doesn't have to be that way. Just do whatever feels right."
Rejecting the grind
The band, all aged 23 to 26, share an old-school mindset. Most of them have brick phones, use MP3 players, and collect analogue gear, from radios to CD players and cassette decks. They are even considering setting up a PO box for fans to send letters. "We're not hermits," insists Bradbury. "We still have laptops and send emails, but taking away that single-use device, like a phone, really helps free up headspace. These things are designed to be addictive, and it's trying to find a way to control it, because you don't have to buy into that."
Bassist and vocalist Aoife Anson-O'Connell finds it "really stifling creatively and personally isolating" being locked perpetually on screens, while Haycocks' previous band became frozen by the "option paralysis" of overusing technology. "It feels like the only way for people of our age, but we reject that. Starting this band, we thought we'd go for the most simple thing possible and that's also seeped into our daily lives."
Imperfection and Britanicana
On stage, they play an explosive set to a rammed tent, contrasting sharp, noisy blasts of guitar with layered vocal harmonies. But back in the van, they are modest. "We're not doing anything revolutionary," says Anson-O'Connell. Bradbury states: "We're not cool."
All band members share songwriting duties. When Haycocks writes, he tries to channel frontmen with more panache, such as Lou Reed or the Magnetic Fields' Stephin Merritt. "I'm not someone who feels at my coolest when I'm Reuben Haycocks," he says. "There's a certain level of bravado you need to try to write a song, so to get myself over the line, I'll be X person for an hour – as I will never be able to reach that level of awesomeness."
Their love of folk, skiffle, Americana, and early rock'n'roll led them to coin their own genre, Britanicana. Now they call it a joke that got out of hand. "A very tongue-in-cheek thing," says Murphy. "If people want to use Britanicana, be my guest," Haycocks adds. "It's as equally pointless as all other genres."
Politics and musical heroes
Alongside indie bands Holly Head, Pushbike, and Martial Arts, they run a night called No Band Is an Island, which programmes bands and leftwing political speakers to raise money for Medical Aid for Palestine. Although you won't find explicitly political lyrics in their songs. "We are all political people," offers Haycocks. "But we don't think our music suits going on stage and shouting about politics because that's not who we are, personally."
Their musical heroes are artists who have embraced imperfection. Haycocks scrolls through his MP3 player and finds Tom Waits' Mule Variations. "It's like, oh my God, how has he managed to write two of the most goofy songs in the world among five of the greatest?" he says. Bradbury jumps in: "You've got to have your duds!" Haycocks agrees, inadvertently summing up the band's MO. "Duds are what make music human."
