Sorry

From Brixton to Brude and pie to pool: an interview with Sorry’s Asha Lorenz  

Sorry emerge from Brudenell’s Main Room ironically apologetic after a lengthy soundcheck delayed our interview, their demeanour slightly shyer and more subdued than might be expected by those who are familiar with their self-assured, genre-bending discography. I sit down in the Games Room with vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Asha Lorenz, our conversation punctuated by the usual sounds of laughter and pool cues. She promises me a game after our interview.    

"I FEEL LIKE IT HAS BEEN BUILT UP INTO SOME SORT OF FANTASY INDIE HAVEN, BUT IT’S JUST A PUB. IT’S ALL YOUR FRIENDS IN THE PUB."

Just a few hours from their first headline at the famous Leeds venue, making up for lost time after their debut album 925 was robbed of live dates, Asha notes that she’s “more grateful to get to play now than before… it’s been nice to meet people that feel a connection with the music.” Alongside positive crowd reactions, the new record Anywhere But Here received a similarly stellar critical reception. Though Asha seems unbothered by this – “I never really read music magazines and stuff. I know loads of people that I think are shit and they get good reviews, so I don’t really care. It’s nicer to get good reviews than bad reviews but I kind of just measure it from how the shows are going.”    

There’s a slight endearing nervousness to Asha’s answers, one which contrasts with her confident, distinctive vocals and lyricism, but once we start discussing DIY spaces she warms up a little. The first playback of their sophomore album took place at Brixton’s Windmill, a venue that seems to evoke nostalgia in the band: “I think it’s just one of the places that we can be a bit free. It’s a homely place. It’s just a good place to have a party.” She describes it much like we might describe the Brudenell – “I feel like it has been built up into some sort of fantasy indie haven, but it’s just a pub. It’s all your friends in the pub” – though she notes that there are no pool tables at the Windmill. We discuss pie options (another thing Brude has over Brixton) and she tells me she’s going for the steak and ale.    

Despite fond memories, the band aren’t quite as influenced by that DIY scene anymore. Instead, they look to older music and production, as well as the people that they meet – whether friends or “interesting characters.”  Growing up Asha was into an eclectic mix of music, Avril Lavigne, Elliott Smith, The Beatles, Andy Williams and show tunes to name a few, but it was a Danny Schmidt show at family-owned venue Green Note in Camden that made her fall in love with lyrics. She enthusiastically recommends ‘This Too Shall Pass’ and I assure her that I’ll give it a listen.    

With their roots in Soundcloud, she suggests that this influence also remains innately, though she no longer finds herself referencing it as much (despite still surfing Soundcloud late at night.) Seeming to have grown out of it in the same way as the Windmill scene, she now buys unknown records in charity shops and record stores instead. “I think the most important thing for me is just continually changing the process of finding music, making music.”   

Her best charity shop find is by an unnamed piano player and violin player – “it’s really really weird but I love it, I listened to it religiously for ages… but I like records because even if you don’t like it that much it still gets right in your head. It’s nice to remember something – when everything’s disposable, then you don’t really remember things.” Rather than this memorability and permanence coming from the process of sitting down and putting a needle onto wax, though, she tells me this is actually due to laziness – “I can’t be bothered to change it for a while and so I just end up playing it over and over again because I’m lazy.”  

"IF IT’S ALREADY BEEN DONE AND IT’S NOTHING INTERESTING I’D RATHER NOT DO ANYTHING AT ALL. I DON’T WANNA PUT OUT SHIT, COS THEN PEOPLE EAT SHIT AND THEY MAKE MORE SHIT."

Sorry’s music is often an amalgamation of these varying influences, from “really weird” charity shop finds to Soundcloud discoveries – bringing fragmented pieces together but never sounding incomplete or messy. Louis and Asha both have a preoccupation with technology and its capacity to merge styles to create something different. “I quite like how you try and make things work that don’t usually work together.”    

“I really like the sound of old records. I like the warmth and the depth and the space in them, but you need to move with the time. You don’t want it to sound boring to someone who doesn’t have that palette. It’s just about trying to find a good balance between the two worlds so people can connect with it.”    

Her concern here doesn’t seem to be the potential for the band to be pigeonholed into one genre, but with boredom – her own and her audience’s. “If it’s already been done and it’s nothing interesting I’d rather not do anything at all. I don’t wanna put out shit, cos then people eat shit and they make more shit.”    

Across its 13 tracks, their new album certainly hasn’t been done before, spanning and pushing genre to always keep boredom at bay. But Asha doesn’t seem completely averse to the idea of genre, explaining their fluidity in songwriting: “We don’t try and make it genre-less but depending on the lyrics or what kind of song we want to write, the lyrics inform the genre instead of the whole album being one genre. We pick the genre according to what will best make the song come to life.” If an idea begins with a phrase, she suggests, then it might be more dancey, but if the song has a story they might take it in a more folky direction.    

Their flexibility in songwriting persists even past release – Asha suggests that her feelings towards their music often continue to fluctuate: “A song might completely change meaning in my head… an event takes place, my relationship changes with the person it’s about. It’s funny how it can change in your head so much.” Sonically, however she seems to detach post-release – again seemingly bored with the prospect of staticity: “Once it’s mastered and finished then I have a different connection because I’m not listening for the mistakes or to change it anymore… I do get disconnected from it. I’d rather just do something else.”   

Sorry’s second album "Anywhere But Here", is out now.