What is it like living with seven musicians?

When I moved into a house of seven musicians, I knew it was never going to be an easy ride. I envisioned being woken at the crack of dawn by guitars and saxophones and violins, clutching my pillow to my ears, and turning the other way. Upon finding out a drum kit had been purchased for the basement by two of my housemates (who conveniently don’t live on the first floor, directly above said basement, as I do), you can imagine that I was less than pleased. 

They were forming a jazz fusion band called Watermelon Dave. As an English Literature student who values her quiet bedrotting time, I was apprehensive. There was also the matter of how many young people would be interested in jazz fusion. As a layman, I thought jazz was the soundtrack to grandad’s evening scotch and cheap merlot-drinking Morrissey imitators. I knew each of them was supremely talented, as we had frequented open mics weekly last year and I had been blown away by their talent. Sure, I’d seen them work as a unit in their modge podge blues band with its weekly name change, but to make a jazz fusion band? Do people actually just do that? 

As it turns out, they do. My uncertainties were quickly dispelled after I heard them play for the first time. The advantage to living with the band is you don’t even have to leave your bed for concerts. I had the pleasure of seeing them at Sidney & Matilda on March 7th, and to say they blew the roof off of the place (or, technically speaking, the floor since it was underground) would be an understatement. Combining a plethora of instruments such as saxophone, keys, guitars, drums and even a synthesiser, I can say with a decent amount of certainty that you have not heard a sound quite like that before. Young people packed into the venue like sardines, sweaty and crowded, to hear them play.

 

I didn’t know it was possible to dance to jazz, but the crowd proved me wrong tenfold. It wouldn’t surprise me if they could hear Lucas Monday’s drumming in Hillsborough that night. It was definitely one to remember, and one that I’m sure I’ll recount when the band headlined Glastonbury in 2027 (remember to save me a ticket, please and thank you). Another advantage to living with the band is you can easily walk into the kitchen and conduct an interview. I was sitting at my kitchen table with approximately Watermelon Dave, trying to get some insight into their process. 

I’m sure you’re all dying to know about the watermelon in the room here, aren’t you? I asked Dylan Morris (guitars, vocals) to explain to me the origin of the name. His tale was of a mighty good deed of his, wherein he towed a man stranded on a narrowboat in Wiltshire to a local pub. 

“So, we towed him to the next town,” and here he goes on a tangent about crop circles, so for brevity I’ll spare you that. “And then in thanks for our great act of kindness, for taking him to this pub, he gave us a watermelon. And his name was Dave. His beard gets bigger every time I see him.” Case closed. 

We chatted a little while longer until we got onto the topic of how jazz has influenced other genres. Daniel Lockwood (tenor saxophone) told me that “most modern pop music has roots in jazz, as well as Mia Sedgwick (saxophone) chiming in that as a fusion band, they “steal from other genres and make it jazz”. However, the focus of the conversation seemed to be as fluid as jazz, as we got onto appropriation and Elvis. Luckily, we were soon steered back onto the topic of Watermelon Dave

originals, as I was talked through their song titles, such as ‘Three Way Kiss’ which takes inspiration from graffiti left by the previous tenants in our basement. The group told me about ‘Cornflake’, the name taken from Arthur Scrivener’s (bass, synth) worrying amount of cornflakes kept both in our kitchen and in his car. 

“We have a song called ‘Oiseaux’ because Dan started speaking in a French accent in rehearsal.” Mia tells me. 

“And obviously with a genre like jazz, you’ve got to give it a really pretentious title.” Arthur adds, which leads me to ask the rest of the group if they think jazz is, in fact, a pretentious genre. 

I got a resounding and quick “yes” from most of them before Dan adds their thoughts: 

“Not inherently. I think it takes a lot of talent to play, and lots of people are like ‘well, if I can play jazz, then that means I’m a better musician than everyone else’ and people who think like that are stupid.“ 

Alright, maybe he didn’t say ‘stupid’ exactly, but I don’t think it would be appropriate to put that word here. 

Dan then said that “jazz is like friendship- in that it ends after twelve bars”. Hah. Funny. I brought up my concerns about whether young people were listening to jazz anymore. 

“Yeah, they are,” Dan says, looking disgusted that I would say such a thing. “A jazz album won the Mercury Prize this year.” 

“Oh, yeah, Ezra Collective.” 

Rob Fuller (keys), when asked about jazz and young people said, “I do believe young people are listening to jazz, but just in different forms. It’s far more gated than it ever was, which is saying something. That’s why we’re trying to open it out more to the public, and have people at our gigs that love it. They wouldn’t necessarily think to listen to it, but we’re giving them the music we like to produce and they’re enjoying it.” 

Overall, they’re a force of six highflyers taking the world of jazz by the throat. Genuinely passionate about their craft, they are definitely a group to keep an eye on in the coming months. The crowds love them, and it’s clear why. They’re bursting with character and have the passion to completely overhaul Sheffield’s jazz scene. 

If you’d like to keep up with the band on social media, you can find them on Instagram at ‘@watermelon.dave’.

Latest