In the time since Angel Numbers was released to widespread acclaim in February 2023, Hamish Hawk has barely stopped. On the UK dates following the album release, the jump in venue size from previous tours was sometimes fourfold. “I felt the pressure,” he admits but rose to the challenge. (If you haven’t yet witnessed Hawk’s intensely physical, sometimes unsettlingly abandoned approach to live performance, you are missing something very special). There was a visit to SXSW in Austin and a summer of festivals, including supporting hometown heroes The Proclaimers at two huge shows on Leith Links, a rare occasion when Hawk could sling his guitar over his shoulder and walk to work. An autumn European tour followed a Music Venue Trust tour in August. At the end of 2023, Angel Numbers appeared on several albums of the year lists.
In the midst of all that activity, in April 2023, Hawk and his band went into the studio to record the 12 songs that appear on A Firmer Hand. Like its predecessors, the album was produced by Idlewild’s Rod Jones at Post Electric Studios in Leith, Edinburgh. Once again, the songs were written by Hawk with Andrew Pearson (guitars) and Stefan Maurice (keyboards and drums), who form the core of his band alongside Alex Duthie (bass) and John Cashman (keyboards).
Hawk is a master of tone and uses it to create eerie cinematic tunes like “Nancy Dearest.” The artist’s new single has blended new wave tropes with emo-leaning tones to create a sonic middle ground between modern post-punk and some of rock’s most beloved subgenres. Don’t let the thudding drums and hauntingly beautiful guitar work distract you from the layers happening in Hawk’s moving songwriting. The artist writes from a refreshing perspective that sees all angles of the narrative and morphs its characters into one emotional outcry of booming baritones and swaying melodies. Hawk can capture you with his enticing storytelling and emotional vulnerability.
“Many of the songs on A Firmer Hand are marked by the presence of another: a lover, an authority figure, an enemy, or a confidante. Nancy Dearest is defined instead by an absence,” explains Hawk. “On the one hand, it’s a bitterly defiant song, an ego trip, a narcissistic flight of fancy. On the other, it’s a song about sheer loneliness, isolation, and ultimate loss. Either way, it’s a cry for help. We all tell ourselves stories about who we are and who we are not. On occasion, something will cause our visions of ourselves to short-circuit. In ‘Nancy Dearest,’ our hero is spiraling. ‘I’ve seen the well of emptiness, and I have had my fill’… Tell me about it, stud.”
