The Evolution of The Tubs
In the landscape of modern indie rock, few bands possess the raw, self-lacerating honesty of The Tubs. Led by frontman Owen Williams, the group has carved out a niche that balances infectious, jangle-pop melodies with lyrics that are often as brutal as they are vulnerable. With the release of their third album, Hard Life, Williams continues his exploration of the human condition, this time by splitting his narrative voice into two opposing personas: the miserable, self-indulgent fiend and the judgmental, stoic observer.
Williams is no stranger to myth-making. He has long enjoyed spinning elaborate, often entirely fabricated tales about the origins of his bands—from the Cardiff-based Joanna Gruesome meeting in an anger management class to The Tubs forming in a storm-battered Welsh caravan. While these stories are purely for sport, the music itself remains deeply grounded in his lived experience. Hard Life arrives as a direct, if somewhat combative, response to his previous record, Cotton Crown, which chronicled his processing of his mother’s suicide.
The Confessional Impulse and OCD
For Williams, songwriting serves as a vital tool for navigating the complexities of his own mind, particularly his struggles with OCD. He describes the songwriting process as a form of purification, a way to confess his darkest thoughts and anxieties. Unlike his prose writing, which he admits can lead to an exhausting, endless cycle of over-editing and searching for the “right” word, songwriting offers a more playful, albeit equally intense, outlet.
“I think with songwriting, you kind of have to be in a state of, like, only half-caring, you know? There’s more playfulness to it. Whereas with proper writing, I get the same thing where you have tunnel vision, except you don’t know what the end of the tunnel is even supposed to be.”
This tension between the desire to confess and the fear of being misunderstood is a recurring theme in his work. Williams notes that he often uses humor—such as the literal “ha ha ha”s in his lyrics—as a defense mechanism, a way to make morbid or dour subject matter more palatable for both the band and the listener.
A New Sonic Direction
Musically, Hard Life represents the band’s most lush and virtuosic effort to date. The inclusion of fiddle, played by Chris Haigh, adds a new layer of emotional depth, mirroring the trilling vocal techniques Williams employs. Despite the cleaner production and more complex instrumentation, the band remains committed to the scrappy, nervous energy that defined their earlier output. Williams balances these elements by ensuring that the music acts as a counterpoint to the lyrics—using lush, sentimental chords to undercut the harshness of his words.
As he looks toward the future, Williams views each record as a potential “hatchet job” on the version of himself that preceded it. It is a process of endless self-correction, a pursuit of perfection that he acknowledges is inherently tied to his own neuroses. Yet, in this cycle of creation and critique, The Tubs have managed to produce some of the most compelling and honest guitar music of the decade.
