© Frank Nieto
The Grammy-nominated musician reflects on personal growth, self-doubt, and the journey to his second album.
Chatting to me from a distinctively warmer and sunnier LA, Jock Nowell-Usticke a.k.a. BAYNK tells me that he loved living in London for over two years, but wasn’t a fan of the weather and terraced houses. “I was the bane of my neighbours, annoying them so much with constant music,” he smiles, explaining his move to the States, where he has more space to make and record music.
His second album SENESCENCE [senescence (n): deterioration with age] has been out since 27th September this year and followed his highly acclaimed debut album ADOLESCENCE, which was nominated for a Grammy in 2022. Jock narrowly lost out to Harry Styles, but says it almost felt better than winning. “I’m happy to have just been in the same sentence as Harry Styles, that’s enough for me, honestly. I didn’t even think I was going to be there [at the Grammys]. So I’m grateful enough as it is.”
Taking time out of his busy schedule after the successful release of his sophomore album, BAYNK talks to INJECTION about self-criticism, dealing with irreversible hearing loss, and the power of collaboration and live shows.
Huge congratulations on your second album SENESCENCE which follows your Grammy-nominated debut album. What were your feelings working on this new album after the huge success of ADOLESCENCE?
Honestly, it’s really hard. But I knew it was going to be hard because I’ve heard so many of my favourite artists say that the second album is hard or that it sucks or that it’s not a good time. I just didn’t want to do the same thing again [as ADOLESCENCE]. Instead, I was adamant that I was going to do this by myself. I wasn’t going to lean on other songwriters and I didn’t want to go the popular route.
At the time I was travelling a lot as well, so it was difficult to do [writing and recording] sessions. I don’t mind if this album doesn’t get nominated for a Grammy or has a lot of popular success. I just wanted to write songs for myself and about how I was feeling during my period of deterioration.
I’m not really too caught up in outdoing myself or making a better product. As long as it’s made and it’s recorded and someone says that they like it – literally one person is enough – then I’m fine with it.
You mentioned that it took a long time for your musical output to catch up with your taste. Can you elaborate on this for our readers?
Honestly, it feels like it’s barely happened. I’ve made songs that are fully in line with my taste, such as “Grin”. But often, I still feel like I’m not there yet. I’m so happy that people love my music, but I still look back on my older music and think it’s very mediocre. That definitely messes with my creativity, and how judgmental I am of my own work. At the same time, however, I think that it helps me to push myself forward and make better music. Other times, it just stops me from making music because I feel like I can’t make anything or I’ll never make anything good again. When I look at [ADOLESCENCE], there are tracks that I really enjoyed, but almost none of them impress me anymore.
© Frank Nieto
If you feel comfortable talking about it, what life-changing experiences have shaped SENESCENCE? Developing tinnitus was life-changing until I found out how many people have it, which is a lot. I remember telling some of my friends and my dad about it, thinking that the world was ending when I first realised I had it, and they just said, “Oh, I have that as well” or “I’ve had that for 20 years”. Maybe it’s more important to a musician when things change with your hearing; it feels very oppressive initially because you’re used to hearing things a specific way or having no noise in your ears. And all of a sudden, it’s like there’s a mosquito in there at all hours of the day.
Initially, when I woke up in the mornings and [the noise] didn’t disappear, I thought life was over, that my hearing had changed forever and I wouldn’t be able to mix music or listen critically ever again. As a result, I had a period of maybe a month or two when I didn’t want to make music anymore. But then I panicked: What if this progresses? What if it gets worse? I need to get a body of work out ASAP so that I can have some sort of legacy or leave something behind.
I was 29. I wasn’t dying. But it did feel like that, mainly because I’d never had anything happen to me that hadn’t just been fixed or gone away. Before, I’d felt invincible. I love extreme sports like skiing, water skiing, or mountain biking. I’ve knocked myself out countless times and broken many bones. But I’ve always just come back from it. And then this, tinnitus, just didn’t change. Something had happened to my body that I couldn’t fix.
That’s what inspired SENESCENCE – the sentiment of degradation and death, that nothing is permanent. It made me write these songs, although they’re not really about death. They’re about living and cherishing the moment. I still have tinnitus but it doesn’t affect me anymore mentally, and at night I sleep with rain noise on to drown it out.
Can you please talk us through the fascinating artwork of the SENESCENCE album?
I worked with the same design agency, Eurostandard, as I did for ADOLESCENCE. The album cover is very specific in its purpose and I was fixated on each song having its own identity, and I wanted to categorically file my songs in a picture form that’s very simple and obvious, at least to me when I look at it. Hence why all the tracks on ADOLESCENCE each had their own cover and they’re squeezed onto the covers to make sure that you can see all of the songs. It’s the same with this album, each song has its specific symbol. And since so many of the songs are about the passing of time and deterioration, we acknowledged the period and the deterioration that came with it. Each of the symbols across the front cover is shown in its original form and then an endpoint where the symbol has deteriorated. They’re all dissolving because we’re all dissolving. And the memory of the song is also dissolving. It works on multiple levels for me. But the main thing is just wanting to neatly organise it, I guess.
© BAYNK
You have collaborated with some equally exceptional musicians such as Cub Sport and Cosmo’s Midnight. What is the best bit about working with them?
Obviously, meeting the people, but from a working standpoint, it’s just like a renewed perspective. I sometimes get stuck in the pattern of making the same song using the same chords. It’s so invigorating and inspiring to hear someone else’s take on an idea or to have them in a room, playing things that you would never play yourself and making choices that you would never make yourself. And on that project, it was super necessary for me to do that. Cub Sport and Cosmo’s Midnight are incredibly creative and have made great music in the past – and I want a piece of that. The main reason to collaborate is to take a piece of their brilliance and inject it into my own work. Plus, they’re so lovely and really funny.
I’d like to talk about your music videos, which are works of art in themselves, telling stories through surrealistic and futuristic elements. How do the ideas for these form?
I collaborate on every video with my longtime friend and creative partner, Spencer Graves. He comes up with the majority of the ideas; he’s just such a creative powerhouse and genius. Sometimes I have little ideas that need beating into shape and he’ll take pieces of that and create a larger framework for what it should be. Of course, it’s always video-dependent. It’s a team effort and I wouldn’t be able to do it without him.
© BAYNK
Can we talk about your style and especially your incredible Grammy outfit, which drew the attention of Vogue and Esquire magazines?
Sara Gilmour, a British friend of mine, styled me. She’s the daughter of the Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour, incredibly stylish and an icon herself. That suit [I wore] was MM6 Maison Margiela and just really beautiful. I love the bell bottom-flared trousers.
You’re praised for your incredible live performances. What do you look forward to most ahead of your headline tour across the US, Australia, and Europe?
I started wanting to make music because of live shows and the festivals I was going to in New Zealand when I was 15 to 25 years old. It was the best thing about my life during that time period, but I felt there was a type of music and performance missing that I could do. These days I don’t really go to shows anymore, just because you become a little blunted by it, especially when it becomes your career.
But being able to give that same experience to other people motivates me. It’s definitely a job but I take a lot of pride in it. If people paid money to see [my show] on their night off, it’s just so important to me that that night is as fun and as carefree and as enjoyable as possible. I don’t do it as much for myself. I used to be a little more self-centred but now it’s definitely all about the people who come to the show and it needs to be as good as possible. If I hear someone say that the show was amazing, then I had the best night. That’s the most important thing.
Also, it gives me a chance to hang out with my band members, Rutger and Jared, two of my best friends. So it’s just an excuse to go on the road with my friends and my partner also comes with me. It just feels less like a job and more like a family situation.
© Frank Nieto
BAYNK’s journey through the creation of SENESCENCE showcases not just his musical evolution but also a profound personal transformation. From grappling with the challenges of tinnitus to embracing the impermanence of life, he has channelled his experiences into an album that reflects resilience and authenticity. His determination to craft music that resonates personally, rather than conforming to external pressures, underscores a powerful message: the importance of self-expression and connection in an ever-changing world.
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