London-based singer-songwriter Drew Thomas is carving out a distinctive space in contemporary pop with a sound he describes as grit-pop, combining the infectious appeal of pop with the raw energy and attitude of rock. Never quite comfortable within conventional musical categories, Thomas has turned that outsider perspective into a defining part of his artistic identity, pairing guitar-driven arrangements and expansive choruses with songwriting rooted in vulnerability, sexuality, heartbreak and self-discovery. His latest single, “American Dreams,” takes a more introspective look at ambition, fame and society’s obsession with external validation, questioning the personal cost of chasing an idealised version of success. Drawing on his experiences as a queer artist navigating identity, relationships and the pressures of the music industry, Thomas brings an unusually candid perspective to the song’s central themes. Following releases including “Boys Aren’t Supposed to Cry,” “Soda Friends” and Watershed, he is building towards an upcoming EP that promises a more cohesive and emotionally revealing body of work. Having performed at major festivals, sold out a London headline show and continued to expand his audience beyond the UK, Thomas is entering an exciting new chapter.
In this exclusive interview, he discusses the evolution of grit-pop, the influence of early-noughties songwriting, the realities of visibility and why finding peace with himself may ultimately matter more than fame.
AVOLA: “American Dreams” examines the promise of fame, money, beauty, and public validation. Was there a particular experience or moment that made you question whether the things we’re taught to want are actually worth chasing?
Drew Thomas: I have been making music and writing songs since I was a young teenager and I remember watching bands and artists on music channels, praying one day I’d be on the other side of that screen. I think I realised over the past few years that fame is actually just a nasty byproduct of success and a game you never really win. I think social media has revealed how fickle fame can be and how it can fade as quickly as it shows.
AVOLA: You’ve described your sound as grit-pop, sitting somewhere between the aggression of rock and the immediacy of pop. At what point did you stop trying to fit into either world and start building something that felt entirely your own?
Drew Thomas: I always feel like I’ve never quite fit in as a person, or an artist. I remember someone saying to me once “your music is a bit too rock for the radio” and then in the same conversation saying “it’s probably a bit too pop for that”. I feel like I’m always inbetween so instead of constantly fighting it, I embraced it. Grit-pop isn’t just a sound, it’s a feeling and a universe I feel at home.”
AVOLA: The lyric “Sell your soul just to be on the screen” suggests that visibility comes at a price. As an LGBTQ+ artist navigating an industry increasingly obsessed with image and online attention, how do you balance the desire to be seen with the need to remain authentic?
Drew Thomas: The honest answer? I don’t. One of my worst qualities is how I compare myself to literally everyone else – be that musically or visually. I’m trying to learn that there’s a big difference between validation and gratification and if I’m constantly looking for validation from the world around me, I’ll never be content. As a queer man, I do feel there is a lot more pressure on how you look physically and it can be quite a toxic cycle to get into. I just wanna be happy, man!
AVOLA: Your previous singles have explored emotional repression, sexuality, and fleeting connections, while “American Dreams” turns toward ambition and dissatisfaction. Do you see these songs as different chapters of the same personal story, or are you deliberately pushing into unfamiliar territory as a songwriter?
Drew Thomas: First and foremost, I would say I’m a storyteller before anything else. Songs about emotional repression, heartbreak and loss come quite naturally because it’s what’s happening in my life and I think American Dreams underpins a lot of those stories. Throughout all the love and loss in my life, my want to succeed and share my music with the world has always taken front and centre, and I suppose in a way, it ends up pushing loved ones away, even without intention. These new songs are about summing up a lot of the insecurities I have, and wearing them on my sleeve for the world to see.
AVOLA: There’s a strong early-noughties sensibility running through your artistic identity, from guitar-driven pop to the cultural memory of music television and magazines. What attracts you to that era, and how do you stop nostalgia from becoming a substitute for saying something new?
Drew Thomas: I genuinely believe some of the music released in the early noughties is unrivalled when it comes to songwriting. I’ve always prided myself on writing a big, classic chorus, and I have that era to thank for teaching me how. I think one of the joys of being an artist is that you’re always looking towards what’s next: the next song, the next show, the next idea. You’re constantly striving to create something new and unique, and I think it’s almost impossible not to have that instinct as an artist, even when nostalgia plays such a big part in the creative process. I feel incredibly privileged to have grown up during that era and, even more so, to have found something in life that I love as much as music.
AVOLA: You’ve spoken about growing up feeling caught between categories, both musically and in your sexuality. Has that outsider experience become a source of creative freedom, or are there still moments when you feel pressured to make yourself more easily understood?
Drew Thomas: I used to get really hung up on this but I have quiet confidence that my music will find the people that need it. Life really is too short to keep trying to fit into boxes that are too small for you.
AVOLA: “Boys Aren’t Supposed to Cry” confronted the emotional rules imposed on men, while “Soda Friends” explored the chaos and intimacy of nightlife. With “American Dreams,” you’re questioning the pursuit of an ideal life. What have these songs taught you about masculinity, connection, and the ways people try to prove their worth?
Drew Thomas: I’m a very emotional person, and I think these songs are perhaps the most honest and vulnerable I’ve ever been in the way I respond to the world around me. During the release of Soda Friends, I went through the end of a relationship with my partner of almost 10 years. In many ways, the EP became the soundtrack to those first couple of months of navigating life as a single person again. I think that’s the beauty of music: a song can mean something completely different to every person who hears it. For me, this upcoming EP will always serve as a reminder of a time when music became a sanctuary more than ever before.
AVOLA: Your music pairs vulnerable subject matter with a deliberately big, guitar-heavy sound. Why is that contrast important to you? Does making emotionally difficult material feel louder or more anthemic change how you experience it yourself?
Drew Thomas: I think there’s a nice paradox to writing an emotional song about love or loss, and then throwing a big distorted guitar on top and dressing the whole thing up to sound stadium ready. I think you know a song is good if it can be played just on guitar and vocals and resonate like that but nothing beats the feeling of a band coming together and the symbiosis of a fully produced studio recording.
AVOLA: Following Watershed and these three releases, you’re building toward an EP due next year. How does “American Dreams” fit into the larger picture, and can listeners expect the project to challenge their existing idea of who Drew Thomas is?
Drew Thomas: There’s a really strong thread running throughout this EP, which the first three singles have already begun to explore. The next two singles take things even further, both emotionally and lyrically, bringing everything together and revealing an even more vulnerable side to the record. I think I’ve always been quite honest and open in my songwriting, and my back catalogue has touched on some pretty traumatic experiences, both in relationships and in life more generally. But I feel these songs are perhaps the most cohesive I’ve made, not just in terms of their sound, but also in the stories they tell and the emotions that connect them. I can’t wait for the world to hear them.
AVOLA: You’ve played major festivals, built an audience online, and sold out your own London headline show. As those milestones accumulate, how do you define success on your own terms without falling into the very trap “American Dreams” critiques? And what would you rather your audience understand about you five years from now than simply how successful you’ve become?
Drew Thomas: The truth is, I am still figuring that out. I feel incredibly grateful for the opportunities I have had and for all the places music has taken me. I’m actually typing this on a train between shows on my first European tour, which is kinda wild haha! But I suppose I am at a point in my life where I’m beginning to redefine what my own version of the “American Dream” looks like. Maybe it doesn’t have to mean platinum records, sold-out world tours or number one singles. Maybe it’s about finding a little peace with who I am, feeling comfortable in my own skin and being happy with the life I’ve built. And if that’s what my version of success looks like, then perhaps that is more than enough.
Featured Image: Rebecca Need-Menear
