Sorry's Asha Lorenz on Mishima, Touring with Fontaines D.C., and the Perils of Ambition

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Sorry's Asha Lorenz joins the two-timers club on the newsletter today; I had her on here way back in 2021 and this time around she joined up to chat about the band's fascinating new album COSPLAY, which just saw release last week. One thing about Sorry that I deeply admire is that they're never doing what you'd expect from them; they are one of those bands that are full of surprises, and that certainly extended to my general convo with Asha. Check it out:

Talk to me about how this new record came together.
This one took a couple of years. It was more difficult, because we had loads of songs but they all felt like they were from different places. It was hard to find the thread, so we re-recorded stuff quite a lot. But it was good to re-record and hear songs in different shapes. Towards the end, we recorded it a couple times in different places. Me and Louis mostly produced it together, and then we went in with Dan Carey to finish it. It was quite emotional, this one. Each song's the spirit of a specific idea, so we wanted a different genre in each song so the lyrics could find the best vehicle for them to come alive.

I'd love to hear you talk about the evolution of songwriting when it comes to Sorry.
It's more important to me now to take a bit more time for the idea of the song to develop and have a good balance. With this one, we had to eliminate songs that didn't fit, which I felt was more difficult. It was about trusting ourselves that we don't have to say everything. The elements that we use are all parts of the songwriting in themselves. It's not just the words or composition—it's the cultural references, the things that are almost a part of the song in itself. That's something we've always tried to do, but the last one was a bit more live and raw, and less calculated. This time around, we wanted to make it a bit more concise and cut out things that were repeated.

Was this your first time working with Dan?
It was. We went in really early to record a bunch of songs, but we weren't ready, and I said, "Look, we're not ready for this." We went in to do this record, like, literally a couple of years ago, but it was stupid because we weren't ready at all. But me and Louis had made "JIVE," and that was fun, because Dan made that one live and wonky. But we didn't really do most of the record with him—we polished it at the end and redid the vocals. I really enjoy working with him, but he's quite experimental as well, and he gets carried away—and so do I, so it's not sometimes the best match for finishing things. But he's cool, though.

How did that compare to working with Adrian Utley on the last record? Dan was much better suited, because me and Louis do most of everything anyway, and what we really want is to just finalize bits. But working with Adrian was interesting as well. He suited those songs. The more technical ways of recording things, that's not really what we do, so it was cool to learn from that. But Dan was better suited for more crazy bits while still keeping it a bit more accessible in some ways.

Talk to me about your creative partnership with Louis. It sounds like, in the end, it's really just the two of you putting these records together. When we come together, we see the same thing. We have a kind of language when it comes to knowing if it's made for each other, and we know exactly what to do Louis wrote more guitar-y bits on this one, and I thought more of what the song means. We come together like that and write the parts together. We can get lost in finishing things from our different opinions, which is where it gets tricky. But we both have a silent knowing of what to do and when the temperature's right.

When it comes to navigating points of conflict creatively within Sorry, how do you manage that?
Me and Louis make the most of the decisions for the actual music recording, because the band's a little bit less involved in writing. But we do want them to feel the live coherence together. When we play the songs, everyone has a voice—they're a part of the song. So we want to make sure that comes through in the recordings as well.

Conflict is more for the live shows. At the end of the day, me and Louis try and make the most of the decisions, because they don't really mind anymore. It doesn't bother them that much. We'll have arguments before shows about what songs to play or samples that we want to put in, or just personal conflicts—but not about the music we release.

How have you felt about touring recently?
It's a bit more scary, just traveling the world. The world's sad right now, so I find touring a little bit sad sometimes, to be honest. I really enjoy playing, but the traveling I find to be a lot. But it's always fun. We played a lot of support tours in the last couple of years—we did some with Fontaines D.C.—which are cool, but quite impersonal, so it's kind of trippy. I'm really excited to go play some more of our own shows, because it's just nicer to play to people who are more weird and get the music a bit more. It feels more worth traveling for.

I was gonna ask you about those dates supporting Fontaines D.C.. Last time I saw them, they were opening for Arctic Monkeys, and now it seems like they're playing to Arctic Monkeys-sized crowds. When it comes to playing for bigger audiences than you're used to, what changes? Is it a "take us as we are" type of deal?
It's kind of "take us as we are." But we'll try and play songs that are sonically bigger, so they sound fatter. It's just a little half-hour slot, so it's the balance of being silly and not wanting to flop. You want people to get it, to some degree

Do you remember the first concert you ever went to?
I think I saw the Pixies, randomly. It was my friend's birthday. My parents didn't like indie British music or anything like that, but my cousin had a little venue in Camden called the Green Note where they had loads of little folk and jazz artists, so I'd sometimes go there. There was this artist, Danny Schmidt, who had this album called Parables and Primes. I remember loving that and watching his set—it really touched me.

You guys put out a live record a few years ago that was recorded at the Windmill. I've talked to a few artists um in your sphere about the Windmill, and I'd like to hear you talk about it too.
I don't really go there as much as I did when I was younger. It was more of a formative place for us. But when we were 18, sometimes we'd play there three times a week. It was interesting, because people were on the same playing field. It didn't feel like competition—it was more admiration for everyone. It felt exciting, but I felt like that changed a little bit. But, also, I'm older now, so I'm really happy that every time we do an interview, I still hear people talking about the Windmill. My friend's actually doing a documentary about it and independent venues.

In London, a lot of venues we played when we were younger shut down, so it's kind of sad. I don't think, if I was young now, that I would be able to be in a band or even fucking go to the pub. I guess maybe people drink less, or they drink more but just not in the pub. The pub used to charge three pounds for a Stella, and now it's, like, seven pounds. I just don't know how how younger people would start off now. London's definitely lacking in places to experiment and play music—and for the places that are there, there's less community and more competition, more ambition and less talent.

The Guided by Voices sample on "Jet Plane" jumped out immediately for me. Tell me about incorporating that.
Marco, who's in our band and has also got a little project called RIP Magic, was playing "Hot Freaks" in the van a year and a half ago and we were all vibing to it. It was always in my head, and then I wrote this song inspired by it, and when me and Louis put it together, we were like, "It'd be funny to put it in there," because I like to pay homage to stuff. At this point, everyone's copying stuff, but if you're using it as a new palette, you're forming forming something new.

That's what Cosplay is about: You're wearing the outfits of older songs but playing them out now. When i go to the Windmill or see scenes right now, people aren't making something new out of things. I know exactly how they're trying to dress, but it's not like they understand where it came from. All the subcultures that people squashed down and are painting from, it doesn't mean what it meant anymore.

"In the Dark" gestures towards Yukio Mishima, and whenever anybody is gesturing towards him, I'm always like, "What's going on here?" Talk to me about that.
A friend's random uncle wrote this book The Life and Death of Mishima, which is by Henry Stokes. He's the only Western bro who got close to Mishima and documented his life. I read it before I actually read Mishima's books. He's the biggest performance artist, basically. I was just really inspired by him, and "In the Dark" channeled some of that energy. It's kind of sad, that one. It's trying to be like, "I'm not dead, I'm just singing in the dark."

My wife recently brought me home a collection of Mishima's writing from the library that I've been meaning to dive into.
I honestly think you should read The Life and Death of Mishima first. You can see how his life is even more interesting, and then his writing is really beautiful as well.

Have you seen Paul Schrader's Mishima movie?
No, what's that?

It's kind of like a biopic, but it's very non-traditional.
Oh, is that Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters?

Yes.
I haven't seen it yet. Is it good?

It's great. It's one of Paul Schrader's best.
My friend recommended it to me too. I feel like Mishima is in the ether right now—maybe just because I've been reading about him. But randomly, people have been like, "Oh I'm going in that way."

Obviously, he was a very transgressive figure, which I think is very alluring right now. He also seemed like a very, very mentally ill guy, which a lot of people can relate to as well.
Well, that's the thing. When you read this book, he's not mad, actually. I mean, he obviously is mad, but it's cool to track where it came from. It's really interesting, he doesn't make any sense. He's gay, he's brought up by his grandma, who brought him up as a woman, and then he's this crazy writer who's obviously too smart for his own good, he's left swinging his ideas, and towards the end of his life he just starts a military coup. That's the problem right now: People are so scared of someone who doesn't make any sense.

"Candle" also references Bob Dylan, as well as Timothée Chalamet's portrayal of him.
I wanted to empower women a bit. I was reading this Osho book that was talking about a candle, the soul, and the flame. A candle never goes out, and the flame is actually the same—it just comes up and it goes. This weird character came in me that was sad, but then it was like, "Hey, I'm just a candle burning in the wind." It was just funny to reference that song. With that movie coming out, the replicas of everything feels so funny. When you try to recontextualize something, like a strong lyric, into your own world, you repeat something worse. It's annoying.

Did you see A Complete Unknown?
I did, actually. I know someone who's in it. But it was cool.

Yeah, it was better than I expected it to be.
I think a lot of people don't know Bob Dylan's songs as well, so it was nice for younger people to put that into the mainstream.

Have you watched any other movies recently?
I'm literally just watching The Matrix. I've never watched it before, but I fell asleep last night.