Written by Serena Ferrari

Packed in a space reminiscent of an old pirate ship's belly, I watched awe morph the composure of those around me. Candles stuffed in dusty wine bottles illuminated dropped jaws and sparkling eyes. The bartenders, who usually clamber about, were motionless, and the smell of beer-saturated wood was, for the moment, undetectable. I sat next to my boyfriend, who I swear hadn't blinked for seven minutes, and negotiated with my bladder to hold out for as long as possible.

We were in the George Tavern in East London, watching the live performance of a band from Black Country called Chartreuse. Mike (guitar and vocals) and Rory (drums) Wagstaff are brothers, and Harriet Wilson (vocals and piano) and Perry Lovering (bass) grew up in the same village. The band formed in 2014 when the members were still teenagers, but released their first E.P. only last year titled, Even Free Money Doesn't Get Me Out of Bed.

It is striking that a band could have held off from their debut release for five years. Was it a conscious decision of the group to wait so long? "It was in the end," Mike says over Zoom. "I think they [the industry] saw the potential in us and were like 'just hold off, just wait a little bit, and get your sound sorted.' That was the best advice we could have had 'cause honestly it was dog shit what we were making." Hattie (Harriet) chimes in, "We did have planned releases, it just never happened. Definitely the best advice and the best decision we made."

It is hard to imagine a band like Chartreuse being anything but self-assured; however, Mike and Hattie were young when they formed the band in 2014, and Mike admits that he found collaboration difficult at the time. "I didn't really feel like I had a voice yet. So I thought it was quite important for me and Hattie to find our voices individually at first." When they started the band, both Mike and Hattie agreed that it would be a long term project, and I suppose foreseeing a project's longevity can make it easier to be patient with it. "We went for that mature moment," Mike joked.

And mature they did. That evening at the George Tavern, there was a collective sense that no one had ever heard anything like Chartreuse before. The earthiness and resonance of Mike and Hattie's harmonies reminded me of Bon Iver, but I've heard others compare them to King Krule and Puma Blue, which is to assert that Chartreuse is not a one genre kind of sound. Music blogs have struggled to label the eclectic music, some quoting up to three different genres, my favorite being "a furtive marriage of folk, jazz, and R&B."

It's hard to say how the band maintains a balance of ambiguity and integrity. Perhaps forming the band young, and then taking time to solidify their footing music wise, has secured Chartreuse with a robust identity— an identity that isn't challenged when the band explores different genres. "I suppose that makes me think about the longevity of the band," states Hattie. "We have done something different on everything we've made, and it is exciting to know that whatever we do next will be different, or we will be able to bring different things to it."

Nowadays, the band cherishes opportunities when they can come together and collaborate. "It just comes out of those small moments when you've decided what you feel and then bring it to a band setting and trust those people with it." Hattie asserts, "I think, take every song as it comes, and if we need to collaborate on a track, it's really special. It's just about having that freedom to explore and feel like we can share those moments together and not be guarded or worried about it." Mike surmises, "The plan is, there is no plan."

It's refreshing to hear a band so at ease about their process and trajectory. Doesn't Chartreuse feel the pressure to deliver another resounding EP? "I weirdly don't feel that pressure," says Hattie. "We basically work where Mike is sat now," a DIY studio at Mike and Rory's house affectionately dubbed “The Cabin”, "and in there, we just shut off from everything. It doesn't feel like anything is ever moving, or we sort of aren't moving with it if that makes sense?" When Mike adds that time stands still, I think of our recent lockdown experience, and how, before the novelty wore off and the anxiety set in, I valued the time and space lockdown created psychologically.

Lockdown offered a respite from the social pressures that haunt creatives, and I can see the parallels between Chartreuse's secluded experience of The Cabin, and that of lockdown. Hattie admits that the band found the personal isolation from each other difficult. "We spend most of our time together… for the last six years, so it was really weird not to be together." To alleviate that struggle, the band came up with "Late Night Lockdown," a virtual hangout session where the bandmates sit in their respective homes with a drink and share their favorite tracks while answering questions from fans (highly recommended for those looking for a late-night radio fix).

Despite lockdown, Chartreuse had never been busier, capitalizing on "staying connected even if it was just sending each other videos of us playing." On June 30th, the band released Relaxation Tape for Nobodies, a mixtape of instrumentals, and on July 29th, they dropped a single titled “Tall Grass” on Communion Records. "Am I allowed to say this?" Mike turns to Hattie over Zoom, who chuckles and says, "Yeah, I think so." "We had a [lyrical] EP ready to go, and we were just like, 'If we release this now, this is going to get lost.’ I wasn't really consuming any music. I think I was just watching Youtube videos to be honest." He laughs before incisively adding, "It wasn't a time for lyrics."

As perceptive as that is, if any lyrics would have aided me in lockdown, it would’ve been Chartreuse's. Sung in Mike and Hattie's sonorous harmonies, Chartreuse's words can relieve loneliness by embodying it. Mike and Hattie, who occasionally collaborate lyrically, describe their personal experiences with matters such as love, loss, and anxiety. And while the songs read as intimate, one-person accounts, I recognize my own narrative, guarded thoughts and fears emerging from the music.

That is why listening to Chartreuse live, was nothing short of a religious experience. What happened to me on a personal level was happening on a collective scale. An overwhelming sense of togetherness pervaded the audience that night as we all reacted to the emotions evoked by these four musicians. It was as if the music was infecting the crowd with vulnerability and healing it.

For their last song at the George Tavern, Chartreuse performed "Boat," the final track off Even Free Money Doesn't Get Me Out of Bed. It was a bitter farewell that took on a deeper meaning as Mike, and Hattie sang over gentle piano, “I got on my knees and grabbed the scruff of your neck this morning/ And marveled at everything you've done for me/ I said under my breath,"This might be the last time I see you"/ But my friend, if I seem genuine, I meant everything.”

Little did we know that the world was about to come to a screeching halt, and live music would be postponed for the unforeseeable future. Humanity, launched into isolation, adapted, and became graceful with the goodbyes that had no end in sight. However, since lockdown has eased, the experience of live music continues to remain in limbo. I am comforted that it will return— that this won’t "be the last time I see you." One thing is for sure, Chartreuse will provide the environment for me to confront the changes that have occurred, and heal from them.

Keep up with Chartreuse.

How Patience Guided UK’s Chartreuse Through Lockdown and to Their Eclectic Sound

Written by Serena Ferrari