The Jacques return with the kind of battle-hardened optimism you can hear ringing through their sophomore album, Make Repetition!—a record they describe as a collective “regaining of voice” after years that compressed triumph, loss and survival into one volatile arc. Across twelve tracks shaped with producers Dan Swift, Jules Apollinaire and Gordon Raphael, the trio vault from chirpy indie-sleaze (“White Heat”) to doo-wop gone deliciously sideways (“You Only Want Me When I’m Gone”), via the faded ’60s shimmer of “Clung” and the widescreen catharsis of closer “Nothing Amazing.”
If the album’s heartbeat is resilience, its context is just as vital: the death of their bandmate and friend Will, the drag of addiction, and the whiplash of a stalled debut cycle in lockdown. Rather than buckle, the band’s London-via-Bristol story tightened into one of togetherness—touring hard, finding unlikely mentors (yes, that’s John Lydon cheering them on), and writing until the pulse came back.
In our conversation, The Jacques go deeper into the rebirth behind Make Repetition!—how “Via Dolorosa” carried joy through grief, why “Dead Man’s Garden” lurches from Monkeys-esque riff to Clash-style charge, and the thrill (and terror) of letting vintage pop forms fracture into something sharper and stranger. They also look ahead to their biggest run yet, with 30-plus dates including a stretch with The Sherlocks and choice headline moments. Strap in: this is a band knocking again—much louder this time.
Can you take us back to how The Jacques first came together, and what drew you all into making music as a band?
Me and Elliot have been playing music together since I first picked up a guitar at the age of six, so you can imagine how small we were! We used to play White Stripes covers at school talent shows, etc. So in a way, we’ve been in this band ever since. We became The Jacques around 2014, but we used to play with another set of brothers who we were friends with from school (fun fact: one of them is now our brilliant new sound engineer and guitar tech, Jake!). We found Harry around 8 or 9 years ago, and he’s now an honorary O’Brien brother—for him too, music started very young. For all three of us, music has always been all we ever wanted to do.
Looking back, what have been the toughest challenges you’ve faced—whether it was the loss of Will, struggles with addiction, or tours falling apart, and how did those moments shape you as people and as musicians?
Everything you’ve already mentioned in the question has kind of answered it; I could go into the specifics of the tumultuous touring, but I think people can paint that picture for themselves. Or perhaps I could indulge myself a little… there was one time a whole tyre spun off our van on the motorway to Calais, and to cut a long story short, that ended with us having warning shots fired at us by seven angry French farmers with a dog each. And there was the more recent time that our van (with all our equipment inside) was stolen by our own tour manager. But that aside, ultimately our biggest challenges have been to do with managing emotions. After all, isn’t that what addiction really is?
You’ve mentioned meeting some of your heroes along the way—who had the biggest impact on your outlook as artists, and what did you take from those encounters?
The obvious mention would be John Lydon. I remember him giving me a beautiful piece of advice which I won’t cite here because it was private and special. But he is a lovely man and very, very funny. We really came back to life on that tour. Then there was meeting Pete Doherty, my lifelong, childhood hero, at BST Hyde Park many years ago. They say don’t meet your idols, but all he was was sweet and encouraging. Another lovely man. He also got bingo points by telling me I had beautiful eyes!
This record feels like a “rebirth.” What do you feel you’ve rediscovered about yourselves musically since your debut?
I hate to sound like a cliché, but ultimately that we can still do it. That’s how it feels for me anyway. We had to come through a ridiculous amount of adversity in order to finish this, and I’m so glad we mustered up the energy and fought the demons in order to do so.
Working with producers like Dan Swift, Jules Apollinaire, and Gordon Raphael brought a wide range of influences into the album. How did each producer shape the sound of different tracks?
Dan is an extremely talented producer and has an incredibly refined ear, something I can only dream to aspire to really. He also goes quite in depth in terms of the individual parts we are playing and the structure of the song, so that it’s still the same song, but it’s more crafted for the listener’s enjoyment. Jules is a complete whizz on the computer and creates incredible soundscapes. And we’ve all heard Room on Fire and Is This It? Gordon’s production style really just captures a band, saying it like it is. They are all very different.
“White Heat” and “Hard To Know” both wear your influences on their sleeves, from The Strokes to indie sleaze. How do you balance homage with forging your own identity?
I think through the lyrics. We feel we can get away with the more pastichy, homage-to-an-era type songs because the rest of our songs are all so different. Basically, by constantly mixing things up.
Songs like “Dead Man’s Garden” and “Nothing Amazing” came from deeply personal places. How do you decide when something is too personal to share, or when it becomes cathartic to put it into your music?
I think usually as a band, if it concerns us all, like writing lyrics about Will, for example. Other than that, it’s up to either me or Harry how far we want to go… but we often (though not always) make our lyrics quite cryptic. There are lyrics on this record that I wouldn’t dream of elucidating! They’re for me and me alone.
“Via Dolorosa” was written around the time of Will’s passing. How does playing that song live now feel?
Does it bring closure or keep the memory alive in a different way? I think it’s quite emblematic of this album actually, because it feels like it’s pushing through those difficult things and coming out the other side with something you can be proud of. We will never ever forget Will, but we know he’d want to see us doing well and making something out of the band and ourselves.
Several tracks like “You Only Want Me When I’m Gone” and “Clung” flirt with retro styles from doo-wop to faded ‘60s tones. What draws you to reimagining sounds from the past in new contexts?
Again, I think partially it’s just about switching things up and showing people what we can do. Also, though, there is something I love about the idea of a sweet, innocent piece of music like something made by the Everly Brothers or something, but then turning it on its head and making it weird. It’s kind of what The Jacques are all about.
Harry and Finn seem to have quite different songwriting voices. What’s the process like when your styles meet? Do you usually start separately or build ideas together?
It depends on the song. On “Via Dolorosa,” for example, Harry came up with the whole vibe and the chords and everything, but I heard a verse that I thought should be plonked in the middle and he was fine with it. Other tunes we will write separately maybe, but all three of us bounce off each other when it comes to actualising it as a full piece of music.
Elliot mentioned recording “Nothing Amazing” the day after meeting his girlfriend. Do you find your personal lives directly bleeding into your creative output, or do you keep them separate?
Sometimes, maybe more with Harry than me. But definitely sometimes. Though more often than not, my songs are total or partial make-believe. I think I enjoy that more; creating a world, rather than describing one.
With the band having endured fallouts and reconciliations in the past, how do you keep the creative chemistry alive and avoid repeating the same conflicts?
We just talk more, and we’ve all learnt how to say sorry!
You’re heading into your biggest tour yet, with more than 30 shows lined up. What are you most excited about bringing to the stage this time that fans haven’t seen before?
Kind of what we nurtured on the PiL tour, towards the end particularly. It’s confident, unapologetic, raucous… all the things we were when we were younger, with fewer things going wrong! We sound the best we’ve ever sounded at the moment, too.
Touring with Public Image Ltd. and now The Sherlocks puts you in front of very different audiences. How do those experiences push you as performers?
Well, we’ll have to get back to you on The Sherlocks tour as we haven’t started it yet, but we’re certainly really excited to play to some younger, more indie audiences. On the PiL tour, it was really easy to tell that what they wanted was for us to absolutely smash it on stage, move around, have a ball. The shows when we did that were the shows when we got rammed at the merch desk. Which is lucky, because that’s what we love to do!
Finally, beyond this album cycle, where do you see The Jacques heading next?
Are there new sounds or collaborations you’re already dreaming about? Absolutely. We already have new music in the bag and are thinking about how we approach a third record, much more quickly this time. And touring. LOTS of touring, everywhere!
