There is something quietly radical about the way The Gleeman is making music. Not because he is chasing reinvention for its own sake, but because every release feels rooted in something deeper: lived experience, emotional honesty, and a refusal to accept that ambition has an age limit. With Even If You Miss, the second chapter in an ambitious trilogy that began with You’ll Land Among The Stars and will conclude with Shoot For The Moon later this year, Dean Morris continues to turn personal truth into something expansive, resonant, and defiantly human.
Driven by storytelling, reflection, and a clear sense of purpose, Even If You Miss pushes further into themes of love, betrayal, resilience, ageing, and self-belief. Blending folk, pop, rock, and Americana influences, the record feels both intimate and cinematic, unafraid to sit with discomfort while still leaving space for tenderness and hope. It is an album shaped by experience, but never weighed down by it. Instead, it moves with urgency, wit, and conviction, whether confronting fractured trust, pushing back against ageism, or offering reassurance in moments of emotional fallout.
At 54, Morris is not simply releasing new music, he is making a statement. Through his #MatureMusicMatters initiative, he has become an outspoken advocate for artists over 40 creating original work, challenging an industry still too often obsessed with youth. But what makes The Gleeman compelling is that the message never overshadows the music. His songs carry the weight of a life fully lived, from personal loss and grief to renewal, healing, and hard-won clarity. That emotional depth is part of what gives this trilogy its power.
In conversation with House of Solo, The Gleeman opens up about the vision behind Even If You Miss, the courage it takes to tell the truth in song, the realities of navigating ageism in the music industry, and why he believes creativity does not diminish with time, it sharpens.
For those discovering The Gleeman through House of Solo, how would you introduce yourself, both as an artist and as the man behind the music, Dean Morris?
Music has always been my main passion in life, but circumstances took me down a different (and perhaps more sensible!) path career-wise. However, in my late 40s, it was time to scratch the long-standing itch of wanting to be a pop star when I grew up. I’m a classic singer-songwriter who started releasing material in 2022. I’m on a mission to become one of the oldest artists to debut in the Top 40 with an album of original material, to prove it can be done amidst an industry that continues to be systemically age-prejudiced, and to hopefully inspire others to believe that they can too.
Even If You Miss is the second release in a deeply connected trilogy. What first inspired you to tell this story across three projects rather than one?
Although my debut album, Something To Say, was only released in Nov 2024, the majority of it was recorded in 2020. I continued to write new material in the intervening period and found myself with a bucketful of songs that I was proud of and needed to get out into the world. It’s quite an audacious plan to effectively release three albums in a nine-month period, but it’s a testament to the fact that creativity and prolificity don’t have an expiry date.
There is something so powerful in the titles You’ll Land Among The Stars, Even If You Miss, and Shoot For The Moon. What do those phrases represent for you personally?
My second album was always going to be called Shoot For The Moon (there is a little sneaky foreshadowing of that “hidden” in the vinyl version of my debut!). The album titles of the trilogy, in reverse, reveal the full quote attributed to Norman Vincent Peale: “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”
It is number one of my three mantras, which I try to live my life by, and is also of great value as an artist in the music industry, but can just as much be applied to life in general. Be bold, aim high, dream big. If you guide and align your decision-making with those ultimate goals, then even if you don’t attain them, or even whilst you are still striving for them, your achievements will be significant.
This trilogy feels like a bold statement about ambition, risk, and refusing to be limited by age. Did creating it feel like a form of personal reclamation?
Definitely, though it was certainly quite an undertaking. My debut album was produced by seasoned pro Will Hicks (who most notably produced Ed Sheeran’s global smash “Perfect”, among others).
Will was aware of my interest in the production side of things and was very generous with sharing as we went along, and I started to get more and more involved on the production side, to the point that at the end, he again very generously said that I should have a co-production credit on that album.
I learnt so much through that process that these subsequent recordings and releases have been self-produced. I also play the majority of instruments on the albums (aside from strings, drums, and some of the electric guitar) and mixed and mastered them myself. I don’t necessarily recommend it, as it becomes a little too consuming, but the plus side is that I charge myself pretty reasonable rates!
However, there is no denying the complete artistic freedom and authenticity that the approach gives you, and everything has very much been done on my own terms.
At 54, you are releasing work with real urgency, depth, and momentum. How has your relationship with music evolved at this stage in your life?
As you age, your priorities in life change, your outlook alters, and as a songwriter you have a wealth of experiences to draw from which informs your work. There are many of my songs that just could not have been written by a young person who wouldn’t have lived the associated experiences or gained the required perspectives through time spent on the planet.
We are also only recently beginning to understand the impact that music has on our well-being in general, whether that is just listening or actively participating by singing or playing an instrument. I can certainly say that further immersion into music and creating it at this point in my life has certainly enriched it, and my hope as a songwriter is that it might also do so for others.
Through #MatureMusicMatters, you are opening up an important conversation around visibility for artists over 40. Why was it so important for you to champion that message?
I always knew that forging a career as an artist in the music industry was going to be a major challenge, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the additional age-related hurdles and barriers that are in place.
In most industries and professions, experience counts for something. It is hard to understand why the music industry solely focuses on youth in terms of its expectation of uncovering and promoting the next “musical superstar” and does not consider that people with more years behind them, who have had more time to hone the craft of songwriting, experienced more, absorbed more, spent more time mastering instruments and other music-related skills, don’t have as much or more to offer the industry and the world of music as a new artist.
As things stand, new older artists without an existing profile of some sort just don’t break through into the industry. It’s a closed door, but it shouldn’t be.
Age is a protected characteristic under the UK Equality Act, and there should be equal opportunity for new artists of any age to succeed, but that is not currently the case (see answer to next question below).
I have found myself becoming a spokesperson and advocate behind my rallying call of #MatureMusicMatters to try to effect positive change for all.
Do you feel the industry still has a blind spot when it comes to artists whose creativity is shaped by maturity, life experience, and reinvention?
Absolutely. This is not just a perceived issue; I have come across very tangible evidence and examples, as cited below.
i. There is a category for an Ivor Novello Award called “The Rising Star Award”. It is described and positioned as an award to recognise and provide a year of mentoring and support for “new and emerging” songwriters. However, entry eligibility for the award excludes anyone over the age of 24 from submitting. Therefore, The Ivors are stating that you cannot be a new and emerging songwriter or artist in the music industry unless you are under the age of 24, and it discriminates against and eradicates the opportunity for recognition or support for any new songwriters over that age.
ii. Let’s take a look at the BBC Introducing platform, a great mechanism for an aspiring artist to get their music heard on regional radio, with the possible route through to national radio and the potential to perform on stages at some of the biggest music festivals.
At the national radio level, the following opportunities are available:
BBC Radio 1 (targeting an age demographic of 15–29) currently has three weekly dedicated BBC Introducing shows as a platform for new artists, as well as a specific weekly BBC Introducing playlist slot for general rotation on the station. There is also a dedicated BBC Introducing new music show on 1Xtra, Asian Network (both of which also have a dedicated BBC Introducing playlist slot), and 6 Music.
The combined total number of listeners of all the above stations is still less than that of BBC Radio 2, a station targeting over-35s, whose average listener age is 53, which arguably would be the primary demographic for the majority of new older artists, yet there is no BBC Introducing playlist slot or new music/BBC Introducing show.
iii. The BRIT Awards have a category called The Rising Star Award (previously The Critics’ Choice Award) to recognise “new and emerging” UK talent. Nominees are selected by an “independent panel” of industry folk.
In its 18 years, there has never been a single nominee over the age of 31, and the average nominee age is approx. 23. This represents a subset of about just 18% of the UK adult population. It’s incontrovertible high-level evidence that the music industry remains a closed door to new older artists.
The words “new”, “emerging”, “rising”, “introducing”, and “breakthrough” should not be synonymous with “young”.
Due to my advocacy and lobbying, The Ivors Academy have now removed the age restriction on their Rising Star Award. I have also had separate meetings with the Head of Radio 2, the BBC Director of Music, and Head of BBC Introducing, as well as a meeting with the Head of DE&I at the BPI (who run The BRITs), to advocate for age inclusivity. People are at least listening, but there is a monumental mountain to climb.
Even If You Miss explores love, betrayal, resilience, ageing, and self-belief with striking honesty. Why did now feel like the right time to lean into those themes so openly?
There is no conscious master plan on the timing of songs that tackle certain subjects or how candidly they are approached. When you are looking at an album as a body of work, you want it to take people on a journey, both musically and lyrically, and there was an opportunity here to do that across the three album releases in the trilogy as opposed to just one. Its predecessor, You’ll Land Among The Stars, was a more chill and introspective album overall, whereas Even If You Miss is a little edgier, more open, and more outwardly sharper in a few places.
It serves as the necessary evolution and the next stepping stone in terms of what you can expect from the trilogy closer, Shoot For The Moon, later in the year.
Your songwriting feels deeply lived-in and emotionally candid. Has it become easier or harder to tell the truth in your music over time?
It has certainly become easier with time. As the years go by, we continue to learn more about ourselves and hopefully become more comfortable in our own skins and give less of a flying one about what others think of us. Emotional maturity also increases, and I think that has enabled me to approach my songwriting from a less dramatic and hyperbolic perspective and from a more considered and level-headed viewpoint instead.
The album opens with Singing About You, which feels sharp, self-aware, and cathartic. What made that the right doorway into this chapter?
Well, the opening line of Singing About You consists of the musically unaccompanied words “Welcome to my world”, which is as apt a way as any to step into my album and my psyche.
The song is about what happens if you are foolish enough to date and wrong a singer-songwriter. I was probably subconsciously channelling a certain global pop megastar, who is well known for eviscerating ex-lovers in song, when writing it.
It’s narrative-driven rather than based on personal experience per se, but it opened the door to me writing my first ever diss tracks elsewhere. I do now understand why other songwriters do it, as it really is cathartic, and it is a particularly satisfying form of revenge. Mwaaa Haa Haa Ha….
It Ain’t Over stands as a rallying cry against ageism. Was there a particular experience that pushed you to write that song?
Ultimately, it was the experiences, as exampled above, that I’ve come up against since diving into the murky waters of the music industry, but it is a problem that also very much extends to wider society, and there is much evidence of that in the jobs market. It’s all a bit stupid when you think about it. Every single one of us is ageing one second at a time, so in perpetration and perpetuation, we are all effectively just discriminating against our future selves.
Your path has included self-doubt, personal loss, and a successful career outside of music. How have those chapters shaped the artist you are today?
Your life experiences infiltrate and inform everything you are as an artist in one way or another, and it is a good reason why there should be more new music by new older artists supported by the industry. I often come across articles that suggest that, as they get older, people are less inclined to discover new music from new artists, but that is far from my experience. The issue is that the music industry has not and does not market and support new music from new older artists that would relate to and resonate with them.
You have spoken openly about losing both of your parents to dementia. In what ways has grief changed the way you write?
To grieve is to have loved and to have cared, and it is the other side of the double-entry journal on the balance sheet of life. I have certainly confronted grief and loss in my songwriting, and it definitely helps with the processing of it.
Your advocacy around dementia care has become such a meaningful part of your work. What has that journey taught you about music as a source of connection and healing?
Dementia is such a cruel disease. My mum had early onset, and the person I knew slowly disappeared from view over time. You find yourself grieving for that loss at various junctures whilst the person is still alive, which is a strange and difficult thing to cope with. My dad became her primary carer for the majority of the 25 years she lived with the disease, until he could no longer do so following his own dementia diagnosis.
I had witnessed first-hand with both of them the incredible power that music can have on those living with dementia. It can connect with them, bring them back to the moment, and bring them peace like no other stimuli can. It is quite remarkable. Making music a primary part of dementia care is of vital importance.
You Are Not Alone resonated deeply with families, carers, and communities. What did it mean to you to see that song take on a life beyond the music itself?
That song is very special to me. I wrote it in the few days after my mum died, and it was very much a comfort blanket to wrap myself up in at that moment, but the way it was written seems to have really connected with others that may also have suffered a loss or are just facing difficult times for whatever reason.
A while back, I put a section of a live video recording of the song on social media, and the comments that started coming back completely floored me, things like, “My 5-year-old son died of cancer and this song made me feel closer to him today” and “I recently lost my husband and this made me feel he is still watching over me”. They kept coming. They still do.
As a songwriter, for me anyway, the ultimate aim is to create something that connects with people and can bring something positive to their lives, and to have put something out there that has connected profoundly and brought comfort and solace to others, well, there is no better reason for doing this. I am very proud of that song.
There is a strong thread of emotional reckoning throughout Even If You Miss — whether in heartbreak, betrayal, or hard-won hope. Did writing these songs feel more like release, reflection, or confrontation?
Probably elements of all three, in fact definitely elements of all three, but skewed somewhat depending on the particular song.
The Seminal Lie and Just A Financial Transaction both deal with trust being broken in very different ways. What interests you about exploring the emotional fallout of betrayal in your work?
The Seminal Lie is a fictional tale of betrayal, but a type of betrayal many people have specifically experienced. The song oh-so-cleverly(!) riffs on the duality of the word “seminal”! Writing it from a once-removed perspective helps to tackle it in a more matter-of-fact way.
Just A Financial Transaction was quite the opposite and came from a time and a place that was still very raw. But that’s what you often do as a singer-songwriter: you dive in deep, rip out the pain, bring it to the surface, and then maybe massage and extrapolate it a little and pour it into a song.
For me, it’s more about exploring the human condition in general, but also my own particular experiences, and I’ve found that the songs tend to come out more real and resonate more readily with others if they are conceived when you are in the deepest, darkest depths of them.
At the same time, there is tenderness in songs like I Just Wanna Be Loved and You Will Find Love. How important is it for you to hold softness and hope alongside the darker truths?
My natural proclivity as a songwriter is to dive into the murky areas of life, and I often tackle difficult or challenging subject matters that many other artists would shy away from. However, I am very conscious of the need to balance that penchant out by also taking aim at some lighter and more positive subjects with a little more tenderness, although it comes a little more difficult to me. We all need to have both some yin and some yang in our lives.
What do you hope listeners, particularly those who may feel overlooked or underestimated, take away from this project?
Challenging preconceptions and prejudice is not easy. Changing the mindsets of others is not easy. That should never stop us all from trying to do so for the greater good and to grow as individuals or as a society. However, the thing about music is that it is very subjective. Whatever listeners take away from this project is fine with me, as long as there is something, even if that is, “I never want to hear a note of this musical tripe and verbal codswallop ever again”. If I haven’t provoked at least some kind of reaction, then I’m not doing my job properly.
As you move toward the final chapter with Shoot For The Moon, what do you hope this trilogy will ultimately say about your voice, your purpose, and the legacy you want to leave behind?
The trilogy as a body of work captures and represents a particular period of time in my life of quite monumental change on a number of levels, but also my evolving journey as an artist and a songwriter. I have no intention of this being the last word on the legacy I want to leave behind, as believe me, I have plenty more to say and a music industry to fix…
