In this revealing cover conversation, the proud Texan reflects on his roots and the winding road he took creating his new album, ‘Leon’. In his exploration of home and belonging, Leon Bridges cements his place as a forerunner of modern soul.
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Leon Bridges has always been in search of home. His crooning debut single, and subsequent album title, ‘Coming Home’, established his craft as inseparably intertwined with the baking heat of his hometown of Fort Worth, Texas. “Salvation rests in the sun,” he proclaimed on ‘Flowers’, immersing us in the warmth, charm and deeply spiritual world of his Southern origins. The rest of the album saw Bridges boldly rework traditional formulas. He pulled from early rhythm and blues, and imbued the album with a heavy sense of heartache and hope, which came to a head with the captivating ‘River’ – a track that remains a signature to this day. Suddenly a musician had arrived whose work was so drenched in nostalgia that it felt immediately familiar, yet still possessed an innovative edge that elevated it beyond the cookie cutter sound of his imitators.
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Bridges found himself catapulted into new worlds, opening for Harry Styles in Mexico City, taking the stage in Japan at Fuji Rock, and even playing for Barack Obama at the White House. The further Bridges found himself from Fort Worth the more his sound evolved, deepening in complexity and scope. 2018 saw him release his second album, ‘Good Thing’; its dual singles established Bridges as more than a one trick pony, with a capability to bounce between genres with joyous ease. On one hand we were given ‘Bad Bad News’, a jazzy offering equally inventive and fun; on the other there was ‘Bet Ain’t Worth The Hand’, which garnered Bridges his first Grammy win with its aching, soulful tones.
I meet Leon Bridges nearly a decade on from his debut in a restaurant in Shoreditch, London. Despite being years into fame, having collaborated with some of the most talented musicians around, there’s a hint of unease in the air. Bridges’ responses are slow, often punctuated with drawn-out pauses as he picks over his words self-consciously. He’s momentarily abashed that his answers aren’t as masterfully worded as his lyrics. As the conversation deepens, it’s palpably clear Bridges just wants to do his new era justice. He admits that he finds interviews “a far more nerve-wracking experience” than taking to the stage in front of thousands of fans.
Had Bridges imagined another career path for himself? “Prior to this I would have pursued… Well, I wanted to be a barber!” he laughs with his eyes. “I think music is my purpose. I think I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.” There are undoubtedly pre-release nerves. Bridges describes the sensation “as a vulnerability hangover, like I’ve shared too much.” Despite all this, he’s “never felt this emotionally connected” to his music before now.
The nervous energy makes sense. New album, ‘Leon’, is Bridges’ most personal passion project yet. It’s completely tied to his identity not only as a musician, but as a person. “I went with the namesake because it’s very much a window into my authentic self,” he tells me. “It’s my stories but also the people and places that have shaped me. There’s a song about my sister, and a song about my father. There’s a spiritual undertone.” His window analogy is no exaggeration; in contrast to the world-building of his debut all those years ago, this album is a bookend of personal development, with each track cleaved from the depths of his soul. From the opening note, it’s clear that this is a version of Leon Bridges we’ve never been allowed to see before; one who is vulnerable, one who cares deeply, and one who has a complicated relationship with the fame that continues to snowball with every release.
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At the heart of the album we find ‘Simplify’, described as the project’s “North Star”. This wistful ballad sees Bridges reflect on the lifetimes he lost to the career he chose, thinking back on memories of his childhood, and a first love that now seems so distant. “I guess what I want people to take away is that there’s a lot of distraction and noise. For me, this album is a return to what is most meaningful in my life,” he says.
The rest of ‘Leon’ sees these parallel forces at play, with contrasting moments of contentment and grief echoing across the album. Bridges doesn’t shy away from the very real pain that informed its sound, opening with the stunningly raw ‘When A Man Cries’. The song originally began during a jam session with John Mayer, who “made this beat I started freestyling over in the booth.” He continues, “I love that moment of just vocalising emotion. The Black community, in my experience, don’t really have a space to express emotions, and the sentiment of ‘When A Man Cries’ is something that people aren’t really talking about.”
Bridges’ noticeable shyness subsides when he talks about the musicians he’s communed and collaborated with. Mayer, he tells me, has been “somewhat of a mentor in my life.” So much so that when Bridges has a project in the pipeline, Mayer is the artistic confidante he seeks out. “These authentic relationships are so valuable because they are so rare,” he explains. “I’ve met a lot of people in the industry that don’t have my best interests at heart. The way they live doesn’t really align with my morals. That’s one thing about Nick Waterhouse that’s been refreshing, and Gary Clark [Jr.] and Khruangbin – they’re just genuine people.” These forged relationships helped Bridges’ branch out musically; take his long-standing partnership with fellow Texans, Khruangbin – their natural synergy coming to life on the psych-drenched ‘Texas Sun’ and ‘Texas Moon’ EPs.
There are of course troubling burdens that come with the level of success Bridges has managed to achieve: take the aforementioned fickleness of the industry, combined with the mental and physical challenges posed by a relentless touring schedule. Bridges has been honest in previous interviews about the demands of the job on his well-being. It may have taken years of grinding hard, but Bridges has finally “got to a place where I have to accept that this is my reality, and I’ve got to navigate through this thing and still keep my sanity intact.” Despite the pain found in tracks such as ‘When A Man Cries’ and ‘Simplify’, ‘Leon’ bursts with moments of unfettered joy, often emanating from his love for Fort Worth. ‘Panther City’ sees Bridges wander through the streets of his wispy memories, recalling the homespun details of a summer’s day. “I think that keeping Fort Worth as my home base has kept me protected from all the bullshit,” he tells me, describing how family is “the best gift in life.” Bridges has always honoured their presence in his life because that’s “just the right thing to do.”
Like ‘Twistin and Groovin’ and ‘Georgia to Texas’ from his earlier works, this album continues the tradition of tracks dedicated to individual family members. This time it was his sister, a figure “so important to all of us. It was a very special moment to be able to write a song about her.” The track itself is filled with love and pride, repeatedly assuring its namesake ‘Ivy’ that the world is hers to take, but that she can’t have it all at once. Bridges encourages her to slow down and ensure she’s only chasing what really matters. It’s a heartfelt moment of caregiving from an older brother to his younger sister; in the context of the album, it feels like a wistful contemplation of the advice Bridges might have given to his younger, more impressionable self.
The duality of ‘Leon’ makes it Bridges’ most subversive project to date. On one hand, there’s a man struggling with fame, coping with the loneliness of stardom and the difficulty of articulating the complex emotions that come with it. On the flipside, there’s a musician who’s deeply grateful for where he is – who wants to ensure his focus never strays from the things he values most. “I never wanted to be a star,” he reflects, “I never even really had aspirations to be doing music in this capacity. I just picked up my guitar and started writing.”
Perhaps it isn’t surprising then that it took Bridges years to face these tracks and get them to a level he was happy with. The majority were written in the same period as the material for his 2021 album ‘Gold-Diggers Sound’, which he describes as an opportunity to “explore my version of R&B.” ‘Gold Diggers…’ was written in LA, while the tracks that would eventually form ‘Leon’ were written in Nashville. Momentarily placed on the back-burner, these new recordings didn’t stay far from his mind. “Throughout the years, they’ve kind of come back to haunt me. My intuition was telling me this is what the people need. This is what I need right now.”
Despite how deeply ingrained Fort Worth was to the album’s make-up, Bridges knew he had to get away to bring these tracks to fruition. “We found this place called El Desierto,” he explains. “It’s in this area called the desert of the lions and it’s almost an hour out of Mexico City. You’re just totally immersed in nature, it’s an inspiring place to be.” He pauses for a moment… “It’s crazy because there’s so much about being there that inspired ‘Leon’. The desert of lions is ‘Leon’, you know? Leon in the desert,” he laughs. The distance gave Bridges the space he needed to work through how he was feeling. “I started to lose focus,” he recalls. “I got lost in the wilderness, in the process of making this music. I got to the point where I just had to pivot. The songs that I had already were significant. I just needed to focus on them, and be disconnected from all these factors.”
This distance from Fort Worth enabled Bridges to redefine what he already had in his archives. What followed was a process of cathartic excavation; unearthing, breaking down and rebuilding songs in a way that felt authentic to both himself, and the uncertainty that birthed them. ‘Leon’ sees Bridges trawl through the memories of every version of home that made him, before finding his true centre in the network he’s cultivated. In doing so, Bridges has created an album that embodies every facet of his repertoire. “I’m very confident in what I think this album is going to do,” he says earnestly. “I think it’s a great body of work. The whole inspiration was returning to why people fell in love with me in the first place, without doing a repeat of ‘Coming Home’. It’s just meaningful, honest music that is super soulful.
Like his debut, ‘Leon’ closes with a song of worship. ‘God Loves Everyone’ finds Bridges walking through the streets, observing the love found in mundane moments. As he softly sings of God’s love for everyone, from “the old men” to “the folks on their own”, there’s a stark contrast in mood to the isolated feel of the album’s opening notes. Regardless of religion or creed, the song and its resplendent power seeps into your bones. You’re reminded of the turmoil and sadness we’ve journeyed through, as well as the bright bursts of exhilaration. As we walk with Bridges through the streets, observing the possibility of love on every corner, it feels like every step was necessary to finally bring us home.
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As seen in CLASH Issue 129. Order your copy here.
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Words: Eve Boothroyd
Photography: Arthur Comely
Fashion: Harry Clements
Creative Direction: Rob Meyers
Grooming: Emilie Louizides