In Conversation with Gulz

Written by Natalie WalsH

There’s all these people, some of them good and some wear chinos — “Holy Soda” by Gulz

Over Zoom I can only see his newly dyed blonde hair and gold earring peeking through the strands (but can be fairly certain he was not wearing chinos). He pleasantly is, as self-proclaimed, “chill” in a way unexpected for both a doctor and a musician. And yes, he is pursuing his medical career in tandem with the band’s increasing success–somehow he seems to have ten more hours in the day than the rest of us. When he joins the call, Gulz starts by explaining how he, though fostered a love for music from a young age, began producing his own work during lockdowns (he attests, however, that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing). A UCL medical student at the time (a field of study he claims he chose out of “laziness”--something I have never heard a doctor profess, nor a UCL student for that matter), he subsequently formed the four-man band with friends from uni, Jordan Poulous (bass) and Andreas Brown (lead guitar), as well as Charles Harris (drums), who he initially met through Jordan. They soon outsourced their producer, he adds. However, he is clear that recording is his least favorite part of the process. Production is taxing and takes much longer than one would suppose to get the precisely desired sound. Performing and writing are, on the other hand, more enjoyable. When I ask him about his songwriting process, he remarks that the melodies come quickly, but lyrics take longer, “I don’t want to write anything too stereotypical”. I find this surprising, considering the fact that I particularly like Gulz’s music for its lyrical originality and whimsical intelligence. So despite the self-proclaimed difficulty grappling with lyricism, he is certainly doing something right. 

She’s into romance, only dates guys in finance

When I ask about his first gig, he jokingly remarks that it was when he was thirteen playing Rod Stuart covers. Thinking of the tinier version of him, overwhelmed by the sheer size of a guitar, standing in front of workmen one evening, I laugh and state that it certainly counts. But, he disagrees, wiping away the memory, and tells me that the band’s first show was one that actually never happened. Booked to play Central Saint Martin’s fashion show, they excitedly arrived with all of their equipment in tow only to realize that the timing had been confused, and they were too late. So, standing suddenly showless in Hoxton with all of their instruments, he quickly called every nearby venue he could think of. And that is when the Stag’s Head agreed to let them play their real first gig. He furthers that one of his fondest memories of performing is when the band headlined a soldout show at the O2 Islington and all of their mates came to watch. However, he interestingly adds that performing for friends is more nerve-racking than for strangers, explaining that if you blow it in front of people you do not know you will never see them again, but you, naturally, have to see your friends (acquaintances are the worst, he explains, as if you mess up–something I’m sure is yet to be seen–then that is what they know of you). 

In the age of staying inside what a waste of our precious lives

I then ask him about performing. When he is up on stage, swathed in yellow light, a crowd waiting expectantly, who is he? Often the ideation of a stage intrinsically denotes a sense of performance, and therefore a persona or act. So, does he, as lead singer, take on a role different from his daily identity? This is when he asserts that he is “quite chill,” in his everyday life, stating that, however, on stage, you can’t be that. “Aspects of personality are turned up to 1,000 on stage”, he remarks, suggesting that the energized rockstar in him is magnified more so than at any other time. In this way, it appears to be less about a persona and more about the exploration of self, particularly the parts that often lie dormant. Funnily, he adds that the band needs to be, certainly, enthusiastic on stage, but that they are playing songs that they have rehearsed hundreds of times, which, sometimes, makes them boring to perform. So, perhaps, it is in fact slightly an act at times, but an understandable one. 

Girls are cool and boys will be boys

He says something that speaks to not only his identity but perhaps a condition of the societal collective. When I ask if he is pulled more toward medicine or music, he pauses, parsing out the differences, besides the obvious, between the two. “Medicine is a nine-to-five, or eight-to-late,” he begins, explaining that it is both a stable profession and deeply fulfilling. But as he continues, he remarks that though music is more sporadic as a job, it is an innate passion–”I don’t rely on it for money, so that tells you something,” he notes. And that evening I find myself sitting across a candlelit table eating overpriced and under portioned steak with my best friend as she listens to me pontificate yet again. But this time, I am animatedly recounting my discussion with Gulz earlier that afternoon. “He’s on to something, you know,” I say as she takes another sip of her Paloma, wide-eyed in both interest and jestful concern. “Isn’t it wonderful to know that you love something like that? When you do it out of honest passion. It’s the same with friends,” I consider, “we choose each other not because we are bound by family or sexual attraction. We stay simply because we love each other’s company.” Not everyone is lucky enough to find a passion, and even those who do, do not always pursue it, so how remarkable that he has two. We can all, therefore, learn something from Gulz.

Raise your glass and lower your voice

And for my final question, I ask him one of my favorites, “If you could go to a concert of any artist or band who has since passed or no longer performs, who would it be? And what song would you want them to play”. He shares that The Beatles are his favorite band of all time with Strawberry Fields Forever being his most beloved song. But then he notes, “There are some performers–like Freddy Mercury–where you’re like, ‘Wow, that would be cool to see’”. Weighing his options, however, he settles back on his favorite, suggesting that he would want to hear anything from the early 60s when their shows were infamously insane. 

It’s a toast to them cause it’s never been about 

Holy soda 

Upcoming shows:

Hope&Anchor Islington 22/10

Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes 14/11