On first look, Niall Summerton’s world is a cosy, welcoming and hospitable one, yet Summerton is not afraid to tackle the gravest of themes: grief, anxiety, listlessness. The catalogue goes on. Take the latest single ‘Human, Dying’ as an example: “I’m sick of trying /I’m only as good as the next man /I’m done with trying /I’m only a human, dying”.
It is a song about coming to terms with mortality.” Niall says. “I wanted to write music that could connect with the listener on a personal level and offer solace in its relatability.”
Tempering these bruising self-examinations however, these existential ponderings in Summerton’s lyrics, are the most delightful, airiest of earworms. Summerton’s music channels the dulcet introspections of Strawberry Guy and Cassandra Jenkins, or the blissful indie-jangle of Andy Shauf, to deliver one exquisite indie pop package.
And that’s the paradox, the chief marvel, tinkering at the heart of Summerton’s work: its ability to evoke such tranquil, soothing soundscapes from such dark wells of inspiration.