
A witty, offbeat English treasure, Bill Pritchard has been defined as much by his curious spates of silence as the glorious spurts of Anglophilic brilliance that have threatened to make him the Ray Davies of his generation. By way of comparison, Lloyd Cole—perhaps his closest stylistic contemporary—has a discography more than twice the size. And unlike Cole, Pritchard chose to sit out most of the ’90s and early aughts.
But since he reengaged his cult following with 2014’s A Trip To The Coast, Pritchard’s output has been consistently evocative and sophisticated, if not flat-out brilliant. Haunted (Tapete), his fifth in a dozen years, may be his most winningly bittersweet to date. Recorded between Germany and England with a network of Hamburg-based musicians, the album employs vintage drum machines, playful brass, chamber-pop acoustics and folky psychedelia for a warm cultural exchange between the U.K. and Western Europe. It’s organic and eclectic, with an undeniable sense of place—the sort of place you want to visit.
Pritchard offers his take on each track below.
—Hobart Rowland
1) “Perpetual Tourist”
“I felt lyrically at my most concise and constructed when writing this … creating the bones of a life led crossing towns, cities, countries, even continents. It’s a life condensed into three verses. I’m describing the semi-fictitious life of a semi-fictitious person who’s moved or escaped from place to place all his life. I was inspired by the pop sensibilities of Iggy Pop and Jacques Dutronc—and a chorus that kept ringing around my head. It fizzes with delicious organ licks and a hypnotic rhythm from a coterie of talented musicians from Hamburg.”
2) “Smile”
“For me, this one is a big song. It’s my attempt to be triumphant with dense arpeggiated guitars courtesy of Gunther Buskies and a Tamla Records groove from both the excellent Zwanie Jonson’s drums and Gunther’s hypnotic bass. Like the Move’s ‘Brontosaurus.’ with its classic guitar lead, I tried to create a tuneful and a repetitive guitar solo to break up the feel and change the color. The lyrics are celebrating the imperfections and inevitable struggles of everyone.”
3) “The Quarter”
“This tells the tale of a pedestrian dressed in thrift-shop clothes wandering through the streets of a north London neighborhood. From the afternoon to the twilight to the end of the bright-light night, I was trying to express a feel for the mist in the air, the chill in the bones and the colors in the sky.”
4) “Curious Feeling”
“We mixed drum machines from the ’70s with electronica, acoustic guitar strums and piano lines to attempt to paint a picture—or, more accurately, to write a song for a Truffaut film if he’d made it now. With references to Keith Waterhouse (whose writing style is etched in my brain, thanks to my dad) and Ray Bradbury (circa Fahrenheit 451), the main character delves into a filmic scene where he/she watches a taxi leave containing his friend sporting a tattoo on his chest saying mysteriously. ‘Where has my future gone?’”
5) “Suburb Of The World”
“When we recorded this song, I was seduced immediately by the catchy 12-string intro that takes you back to a Carnaby Street/’60s atmosphere. Then, moving a bit north, the lyrics experience a bus ride from Euston to Stoke Newington, passing a sleep-deprived individual gorging on ‘angel’s food and wine’ and ending up in ‘the suburb of the world.’ Is it a real place, or just an imaginary dwelling? Like all songs for me, it’s whatever you want it to be.”
6) “Sweet Melody”
“‘The music sounds like you played it on Stevie Wonder’s Dream Machine,’ said the engineer when we opened the tracks I’d started at home. I see what he means now.”
7) “Intrigue And Wonder”
“Two blokes sitting on a bench by the canal (could be Regent Canal) reminiscing about a life well led and transcending age. It must be nice being those two blokes. That’s how I see it, anyway.”
8) “Lillie”
“I wrote this song about a semi-fictitious torch singer from the 1920s or 2020s. This entertainer transcends decades. Then it’s about a chanteuse who never existed, but I wish I’d met. It’s a personality who came to life in my head.”
9) “Haunted”
“Driven by a languid quasi-country acoustic guitar, this ballad is the closest song on the album to a love song describing an enduring friendship or partnership. It’s about growing together, embracing flaws and still appreciating the magic of the other. The lyrics are hopeful but still with a tinge of melancholy. I was particularly taken by the chorus I had in my head for ages. I’m pleased with this one.”
10) “Sunsets In Poland”
“This song derives from a lyrical poem by the wonderful Canadian poet Patric Woodcock, creating the image of an out-of-season chalet in a remote holiday resort. The protagonist, the Sunsets In Poland, is witnessing it all.”
11) “Imperfect”
“Driven by an inspirationally imperfect rhythm from a ’70s drum machine courtesy of Gunther, this song is a reflection on time. Inspired by the poet Gerard Berreby, it was written and set in a bar in 10th area of Paris, where I’d literally left a box of albums for safe keeping for a friend to pick up the following week. I’d met Gerard the day before at a gig near Clermont Feront and was struck by how his work dealt with the impermanence and permanence of time.”
12) “Oxygen”
“A stripped-down song leaving me on my own, left-handed with a right-handed guitar, to finish this musical odyssey. Let’s just say we all come from somewhere … Or is this too oblique? ”













