THE ART OF TAKING UP SPACE : In Conversation with FLOK

WRITTEN BY MEG IVY BRUNNING

Sometimes you meet people who reflect back to you a piece of yourself you didn’t know you still had. Tonight, it was a band called FLOK. I got to sit down with the lead singer Jake, enjoying floor time before they supported Lucy Ellen at Band On The Wall … a venue that has started to become a constant in my Manchester life. We dove into everything to do with the band’s second release and what it is that keeps someone going in the music industry when sometimes it feels like it takes a lot from you.

For those of you catching up to FLOK, the band has always been around, albeit maybe not fully formed but became fully fledged around a year ago when guitarist Rory joined the lineup.

There seems to be a whispered traditional rule in the industry that you have your whole life to write your first record but only a limited amount of time to prove yourself with your second. For FLOK, they have nothing to worry about as their sophomore single “Stop Turning” isn’t just a checklist follow-up. Instead, it’s a definitive statement of intent and a formal introduction to a heavier, more collaborative heart.

Every band has a quiet catalyst moment where the future molds and shifts. For FLOK, it began when Jake stepped away from his adolescent years playing drums in a pop-punk project and transitioned that energy into becoming a frontman.

“I remember writing one song, and finally one of my mates said, ‘That’s really good, you should do something with that,'” Jake recalls, his voice carrying the humble weight of someone who had to learn how to take up space. “I put a hell of a lot of effort into learning how to sing, started learning guitar… I was that desperate to get the lyrics out there. I thought the only way to do it is to do it myself really.”

For someone who describes themselves as naturally reserved, stepping away from the safety of the drum kit and transitioning towards the centre spotlight felt less like a performance and more like an awakening of sorts. It felt like it became a deliberate choice for Jake to step outside of his own quiet exterior.

“I really treated it as an opportunity to not be that person anymore,” he explains, “and sort of stand up and really do something.”

There is a distinct magic in the way FLOK constructs their world.

Jake doesn’t believe in the rigid concept of writers block; instead he treats inspiration that strikes him at the strangest of hours (come on we’ve all been there .. what time do you think I was writing this piece at?). Whether that’s in the middle of an office shift at the desk, on a walk home or suspended in the quiet hours of 5am, we all know what it’s like when you just have to get whatever it is in your head down. That’s why the notes apps exists after all … right?

Their newest single “Stop Turning” is a gorgeous, bruising testament to that late-night headspace. Shaped by the arrival of Rory, who brought a melodic guitar line to his audition that instantly locked the band’s new trajectory in place, the track handles the delicate grief of something so simple: bad timing.

“It’s a song about distance and sort of letting life get in the way of something that could be really special,” Jake says, slowing down to capture the feeling. “It’s the understanding between you that you’re both going to be doing it half-assed really… and whilst there’s like this chaos in your life that’s stopping you from pursuing it, you can only sit back and sort of wish that you had each other. Then when all that chaos disappears, you’re just sort of praying that they’re ready to pick it back up again and you’ve not lost them.”

After Jake’s explanation there was a slight pause, but I think we both needed that. To be able to sit with the meaning behind the songs that he’s writing is important and just like he explained – being able to give space to breathe is just as important too.

When I ask Jake where this song should ideally transport a listener, he doesn’t point to Co-op Live or Wembley Stadium filled with adoring fans. Instead, he takes it back to the small, insular spaces where we first learn how to feel.

“Probably a university bedroom,” he muses. “I think that’s when you’re the most emotional, like that sort of early adolescence… that’s when I’ve been the most vulnerable. Every time I listen to music now, if a song makes me feel like that, that’s when I get really intrigued. I kind of like other people to have that feeling as well—and it’s not necessarily a positive one, but it’s one that you can sort of accept.”

And, I really couldn’t relate or agree more. My halls room was one of the places that I felt saw the most raw version of me, as all bedrooms do. But there was something about being alone in a new city (in my case London), surrounded by things that either I’ve had since I was a child or had recently purchased on Peckham high street that is so polarising. Experiencing every single human emotion one could feel in a tiny room with an en-suite where my shower would flood if I left it on for too long and that one light in my hallway would always die and I’d have to call the maintenance man. I guess what I’m saying is, I get it. You know? As much as an overly emotional girl could get it anyways.

In a fast-paced, strictly digital world where music can feel financially exhausting and emotionally draining, FLOK holds onto their dream with a fierce, awe-inspiring and protective grip. To them, a “Plan B” isn’t even in the question.

“The term ‘Plan B’ is sort of used a lot by people who don’t understand what you’re doing,” Jake says candidly. “Family and even friends sometimes can say, ‘Yeah, but what are you actually going to do with your life?’ Whereas this is my Plan A. I do my day job to support the band because it’s expensive, but this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

It’s an uncompromising stance, but one that’s rooted in a deep love for not only their music but the community they are building. They are a band of best friends who met within the noise of rehearsal rooms, making silent promises to not let each other down. They are the kind of band that will happily play to any room with any amount of people in it and that’s something that I deeply respected about FLOK.

I think there is a lot of pressure nowadays for musicians to be expected to turn into polished, algorithmic focused content creators for every reel or TikTok that people believe needs to be posted.

However with FLOK, they prefer to stay untangled from the forced digital noise and stay more focused on living authentically both in and outside of the band.

They don’t care about going viral, they just want you to know who they are when the stage lights go down and the first chords are played.

“We want to make it as personal as possible,” Jake smiles. “If that means recording a video that shows what we’re doing in a practice room, or talking about the grapes that we eat before a session … I remember being young and following bands absolutely everywhere, falling in love with them and wanting to hear what they get up to as normal people.”

With a written EP waiting in the wings ready to fly off into the world, a summer calendar packed with gigs and a growing fan base already making the travels around the North West to see them, FLOK isn’t rushing the horizon.

Instead, they are just occupying the present moment. Focused and looking forward, never looking back (unless to write a song lyric).

As our floor time chat wrapped up and the pre-show hum of Band On The Wall began to swell, I asked Jake what advice he would give to his younger self if he was sat right beside him on the steps.

“Just a lot of patience and trust,” he says, with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly where he’s going. “Everything we’ve made a mistake with resulted in a better mindset along the way. Trust that this is a seriously long game, but it’s gonna pay off.”

Standing up from the floor as we slowly made our way back towards the front of the venue, I thought about how lucky we are that music still makes us feel this massive.

In a world that demands we constantly rush towards the next big thing, whether that’s in a music sense or a personal sense … FLOK is a gentle and steady reminder that some things are meant to be built slowly, from the ground up.

Maybe tonight, somewhere in the dark of the crowd, there was another person like me, the lights reflecting off of their features as they felt a piece of themselves reflected back, finding a song that will one day soundtrack the corners of their quiet bedroom (university or not).

Images by Shot_by_sub