Biography

It was a dark and stormy night, or a rough approximation thereof, in late 2007. On either side of the stage lights stood Marc Ozall and Caleb Hill – one fidgeting nervously on stage, one yawning loudly in the crowd. Unbeknown to both, they shared more than just a smidgen of arrogance and haircuts that called into question the validity of this arrogance. Two songs later the two sat in the bar, convinced that by combining Marc’s melodic heartfelt musings with Caleb’s searing rock guitar something special was waiting to happen. Due to adverse weather conditions, it wasn’t until early 2008 that the two began putting together a catalogue of tunes to throw emphatically into the public domain.

Next to join was James Gruber, son of the local giant (and official photographer of the band) and a mean bass player according to those in the know. The three spent two months of  evenings in Caleb’s North London abode, demolishing their own body weight in crisps and wine, taking Marc’s acoustic tracks and throwing in the funk, junk and effects-driven wall of sound guitars that the songs were crying out for, until they were satisfied that people would not throw rocks and small animals at them should they choose to perform them in public. A man to keep the beat was required, and out of nowhere appeared Rob Ramon. Ok, that’s not true. He obviously appeared out of somewhere. After a short period of rehearsal, the band started gigging in summer 2008 at various dives and hovels, whilst recording their debut EP ‘The Shipping Forecast’, building up a loyal following of friends, fans, escaped lunatics and a small zebra called Colin.

In early 2009 Rob was abducted by aliens. Despite frantic searches, he was never found and despite the band’s grief they set about finding a replacement. Like a gift bestowed from Olympus, a mutual friend recommended Simon Treasure, a young and extremely talented drummer. The decison was unanimous. They now ALL required haircuts. Simon was indubitably the missing link – not in evolutionary terms of course – and effortlessly pulled all aspects of the varied catalogue of songs together – from the lazy Rolling Stones-esque ‘Still’ to the uproarious boombastic ‘Shipping Forecast’, the songs took on a new life under Simon’s stickmanship. With the final piece of the jigsaw in place, The Autumnkind had found their voice.

Having played a host of top London venues in 2009, building a huge (and very pretty) online following due to constant badgering of anyone who would listen (and especially those who wouldn’t), finishing their debut album and working feverishly on their second, which looks set to be a giant leap forward in both sound and songwriting, The Autumnkind had quietly, unassumingly, and still with uniformly dreadful haircuts, arrived …