Jack Garratt Tickets

“Joy as an act of resistance”. That phrase has been coursing around Jack Garratt’s head recently. That state of mind has birthed a markedly new chapter for his sound, one that’s positive, urgent, and vibrant, bursting with colour and fun.

Released three months into the global pandemic, Garratt’s last album Love, Death & Dancing wasn’t plain sailing. His diary, previously filled with tour dates and live shows, remained completely blank. With no one to play it live to, the album didn’t get the traction he’d hoped. “For me, it bred a lot of frustration,” he says. “I couldn't tour the record, which is half of its journey, really.” In his personal life he was going through divorce. Rather than submitting to the “pit of anxiousness and frustration” that threatened to swallow him, Garratt opted for making lemonade from the lemons that life handed him and got back into the studio.

The resulting sound that came out was technicoloured, joyful and celebratory. There's a whole heartbreak album on the way, he promises, “but I needed a moment of reclamation and self-acceptance – I had to do this purely for myself.”

Renowned for a hard-to-pigeonhole sound that spans R&B and electro-pop (2016’s Phase) and big singer-songwriter anthems (Love, Death & Dancing), the Walthamstow-based multi-instrumentalist has previously labelled his work as “dance music for people who don't want to go out”. He’d thought of himself as one of those club-avoidant people, too. But now, with the world reopened and a newfound gratitude for his friends, family and life in general, Garratt has had to reconsider that idea, with pub dancefloors now his favourite spot. “Now I’m in a place where I'm making dance music for me, and I’m desperate to go back out.”

Once he got in the studio, he put on a four-to-the-floor beat, some chords, and started making dance music. It’s the best music he’s made in a long time, he thinks. Aimed squarely at the dancefloor, this new material caught the ear of Skint Records, home to the likes of Fatboy Slim, Róisín Murphy and Hercules and Love Affair. Disco-funk single Just How I Like It chops and pitches up Garratt’s vocal, while What I Got employs a snappy kick drum and zig-zagging bassline. The artwork is just as fun and liberated as the music, spearheaded by designer Katie Fishlock who interpreted Garratt’s theme of unapologetic joy. “It's all these bright neons and sexual undertones and limbs and lips and juices – it’s brilliant,” he says.

Reestablishing that creative connection with himself is what allowed him to make this music, “which is why it has such a personal weight to it,” he says. “But also, it's just fucking fun. It's music for pop dance floors.” He’s continued to hone his DJing skills so that he could go and play it, alongside funk, house and disco, and his own flips and edits of tracks like Bowie’s Let’s Dance and Stevie Wonder’s Superstition – “the most blasphemous thing,” he laughs, “one of the greatest songs of all time, like how dare I, on my silly little laptop!”

Around this music-making, he’s been listening to Leon Vynehall, Mica Levi, and widescreen film scores – “I got really obsessed with the width of sound,” he says. The French house sensibility on Just How I Like It stems from a lifelong love of Daft Punk, who were his gateway into electronic music. “I find that so much dance music offers so much more information if you have the time to give it your attention, sitting down,” he says.

As an artist, Garratt has suffered the weight of expectation; of achieving a lot, very quickly. Winning the Critic’s Choice Award at the Brits in 2016 and the BBC Sound of… poll that same year, followed by a hugely-acclaimed debut album that’s racked up hundreds of millions of streams, he’s had a lot to live up to. And it would be a lie to say that pressure hadn’t got to him. But now, aged 30, he’s making music that’s unapologetically himself.

Performing, the thing that was snatched away by the pandemic, is what he’s most excited to get back to doing. “I love the theatre of it,” he says. “And I always argue that when I’m on stage, I’m the least important person in the room. If you're the reason people are there, your duty is to serve everyone else, to give them the best night possible.” For the planned new shows, like at London’s new Outernet megavenue, Garratt is bringing back a solo rig setup that was a fan favourite at his pre-2020 performances. Now, though, he says that his attaining of self-love means he doesn’t “torture” himself by making things tough for himself when playing live – he deliberately wouldn’t use a metronome, for example, as something of a glutton for punishment. He wants to have fun on stage, and pass that feeling onto the audience. “I’m the least important person in the room,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun too.”

Amid the obstacles life has thrown at him lately, Garratt remains in a state of optimism – and that shimmering dance music is here to soundtrack all of that. “You can't avoid feelings, you can't avoid negative things happening to you, they will happen. And it’s not as easy as just going, you know, c’est la vie, life goes on. No, it fucking sucks. Things hurt. Why not take that and put it into a funky song that makes you want to dance. Take all of the attitude and the energy of that, but put it in a groove that makes you want to get off your feet and have a good time. Let's dance while the world is ending!”