“This needed something a little weirder…”: Teenage Waitress talks new single ‘Blue Tick Burning’
Daniel Ash of Teenage Waitress gives his insight on the significance of albums, release day jitters and upcoming LP ‘Upstairs to Finish a Dream’.
Photo: Teenage Waitress
In 2020, a musician based in the South of England released his electro-pop debut, Love & Chemicals. Three years later, he brought out Your Cuckoo, building on that sound with reaches into heartfelt ballads, humorous introspectives and mainstream indie rock. His name is Daniel Ash, better known as Teenage Waitress, and now he brings us Blue Tick Burning, the lead single from his upcoming third release Upstairs to Finish a Dream, out October 10th.
Ash recently created and performed his own PowerPoint live show, all about songwriting, to fans in both Brighton and Winchester. Luckily, I got the chance to catch up with Daniel ahead of the single’s release, to talk about all things LP three, the creative process, songwriting in PowerPoints and Pink Floyd in planetariums.
Hi Daniel! I’m super stoked to hear about the new album, Upstairs to Finish a Dream. Where did the title come from?
Great question! That title has actually already appeared in a Teenage Waitress song. There was a song called Daisy that came out on a vinyl compilation called Indie Citizens Volume 2. And the very last line of that song is, “Picking tiny flakes of flesh out her teeth / She went upstairs to finish a dream”. I remember sending that to Mike [Bissett], who produces all my stuff, and he said, ‘Well, that sounds like an album title’. That came out after Your Cuckoo, so it feels like a bridge. I think there were a couple of other titles floating around, but that one fitted the theme and the style of the record.
Do you find it difficult coming up with album titles?
I think the hardest part is making sure it matches what’s on the record. I have lots and lots of hypothetical titles for things and, for a long time, there was Still Catastrophizing After All These Years. But I remember thinking, ‘that’s not it’. It doesn’t work for this album. That’s kind of like, in my head, the title of an Americana album, something country-tinged. This needed something a little weirder, artier, maybe. There are lots of titles on my phone’s notes and stuff, and that’s how the other two records got their name, too. It was just from looking at these titles and matching them to the sound: ‘That sounds like a Love & Chemicals, that sounds like a Your Cuckoo, etc’.
The first single, Blue Tick Burning, is out now! How are you feeling?
I’m feeling excited because I’m in a weird position where we’ve announced the album, and we’ve done pre-orders, but we haven’t released a second of the record itself yet. There is that, like, ‘Are we gonna get 40 cancellations of pre-orders once the single comes out?’ Still catastrophizing after all these years [laughs]. But it’s very exciting.
I sometimes look back through Facebook memories, seeing what happened a year ago, or ten years ago. And it came up that Cry, Cry, Cry [one of two non-album singles Ash released in 2024] came out about a year ago. So it feels like it’s been a while since something’s come out. And I do like a bit of a release day rush — you get a real adrenaline rush when something comes out. Traditionally, I take the day off work as a holiday, because you spend all day on your phone, and your thumbs hurt. But I’ve run out of holiday, so I’ll be doing all that on my lunch break.
It’ll be nice to ease people in. I’d say out of lots of stuff on the record, it shares DNA with some older stuff more than some of the other stuff on the record.
Is it more anxiety-inducing releasing the first single of an album over follow-ups?
I’d say I feel the same every time. But, the only thing I don’t like is how you have to play the game now; how bands will release half the album as singles before the record’s even out. I come from the old school where I like everything to be a surprise until the album’s released, which unfortunately is just not how it works. I love that kind of Beatles release schedule, a couple of non-album singles, and then the album, then maybe a few singles after it’s out. But the whole thing is a surprise when you put that record on your turntable.
That’s just not how it works. The more I see people do it, where like four or five singles come out first, the more I think that’s kind of what works these days, if you want the record to have as big a splash as possible. I’ll still only bring out 2 singles before the album’s out, because I wanna keep stuff back. That’s something I just can’t click with. Because I think in terms of albums as well, when I write. I will write an album, rather than a bunch of singles.
I know what you mean. You can get exhausted by half an album before it’s even out.
Yeah, and not that I’m suggesting for a minute that people will overplay my material but, as a consumer, that’s something I’ve done. An example that springs to mind, weirdly, is Weezer’s White Album [2016]. I think they released five or six songs beforehand. Everyone was saying, ‘Oh, it’s the best Weezer album in a long time’ and I was so pumped for it. Then I bought it and looked at the back of it and thought, ‘There are just four new songs on there. I’ve played everything else to death!’.
I know that’s how it works — I’m gonna have to get used to that if I want to make bigger splashes with every release. But, I don’t know, I just love an album.
Do I detect from the title of the new track that it’s about social media?
The lyrics went through many, many drafts. The first draft I wrote was about somebody WhatsApp-ing someone who had died — another corpse in a Teenage Waitress song! — and waiting for the blue tick that it had been received. But that idea didn’t develop much past a verse and a chorus. So I sort of pulled from personal experience a little bit in the end. There’s a bit of autobiographical stuff going on plus a bit of fiction.
2023, which is where the lyrics open, was a full-on year for me, a year where I said ‘yes’ to pretty much everything. I realised ‘yes’ is probably the most dangerous word in the English language if used in that way. I made myself ill and started developing an OCD where my brain was just constantly going. Washing my hands took three times as long. My mind was going overtime. That was the catalyst to working out where that song should go, lyrically.
It’s interesting to hear that part of the song was fictional, and part of it was autobiographical. Is your work often an equal balance?
That’s becoming more of the norm. When I started doing stuff as Teenage Waitress, it was really about creating characters and situations. I feel like I’ve kind of milked that now. Towards the end of writing Your Cuckoo, and writing this album — because this was all written at the same time as Your Cuckoo — I realised that.
I was listening to lots of Eminem, and I quite liked how he would recount real experiences from the school playground, but as if it were a comic book, with all these over-the-top moments of comic book violence. That interests me. That’s just where my head’s at. If the elusive fourth Teenage Waitress album comes to life, which is 80 percent written, then it’ll be a whole record of that. Every song I’m writing at the moment seems to be about something that happens to me in my day.
In a recent interview with Louder Than War, you mentioned McCartney II on the ‘mood board’ for the upcoming album. Do you create a mood board consciously, or is it just whatever albums you’re listening to at the time?
I sort of join the dots afterwards. I was very much into McCartney II when I was writing this album, and it wasn’t until afterwards that it made sense in my head that I did this because McCartney II has that kind of attitude, etc.
The revelation for me was: so, I’m writing a book about songwriting, which is essentially the same as my PowerPoint shows, and I talk about [McCartney II] in particular a lot, because it feels like he made that album for himself. There’s something about that album that’s like you’ve just bumped into Paul McCartney in the pub and said, ‘What have you been up to?’ and he hands you this CD-R of demos he’s been working on. It’s unpolished. It’s the sound of someone not giving a shit and doing music for them.
That’s the attitude we had with this record. The idea was we bring out Your Cuckoo first, which feels more single-y, and then we scare people off with the more self-indulgent one. I see parallels between those albums and the experimentation. And the same as Bowie’s Low, playing with the idea of what a traditional song structure should look like. There are some pretty weird left-turns on this album, which are definitely inspired by stuff like Breaking Glass, where you get almost half a song, or Sound and Vision, which is this big Bowie single, and I couldn’t even tell you the structure of this song. That all inspires me.
So, in answer to your question, it’s not something I think about while writing. Afterwards, I see the connection between what I was listening to and what came out.
You mention in the same interview that you were also inspired by old episodes of the ‘Twilight Zone’ and the works of Richard Brautigan. Do you find non-musical influences are just as important?
For me, definitely. Something I will often do is watch TV and noodle on a crappy guitar; lines of dialogue or things I see might leak into what’s going on. At least three or four songs on this album have come about while playing and half-watching something. That felt like an important influence.
Upstairs to Finish a Dream’s cover is the most abstract of all your albums. How did the idea for that come about?
That’s all the brainchild of my good friend, the fantastic Dave Salibury. I gave him free rein. I sent him the album and told him, ‘Just do art’. He did the most amazing things. He sent me loads of pictures, playing around with lots of things. There were about ten or so fantastic options, and it was hard to settle on a winner. That image we ended up using is so striking and interesting, though. Oblique and strange.
You know how Pink Floyd records have no text on them? I wanted something like that. No band name, no title. It was originally a different picture, which is now the back cover. We flipped it at the very last minute.
One of the things that informed the last-minute change was listening to the record and looking at those pictures all the way through. It’s like the album title; it’s got to fit the context of the record. Does it work? That’s what made me change my mind right at the end. Dave Salisbury did the art for Magic and Cry, Cry, Cry, and I was so impressed with what he did. The direction he chose was so different to what I would have given, too. I told him to be as weird and wonderful as possible. He was.
You describe this new album as ‘internal’. Would you, therefore, say the previous two are more external?
I think especially Your Cuckoo is, because we knew we were making two piles of songs. That was the ‘going out’ album. I went to see Dark Side of the Moon at a planetarium — in Winchester, actually — they play it, with all these kinds of visualisations. It feels very personal, even though you’re lying down with about fifty other people. It feels like it’s just you and the music. I’ve not been able to forget that. I’m fascinated by how people listen to music.
When we were doing Your Cuckoo, it was obvious some songs were meant to be played on a stage, in front of an audience. There was another category of songs; these songs, which felt like you’d have your headphones on and it’s 1am, and you’re listening to the record, and you’ve got a glass of something good. This is that. It might be nonsense, but that’s what helped me write and create what sat on what record. There are a couple of other songs that didn’t make it, that will probably make an EP, between [albums] three and four. They’ll really lean into that voice in your head. One of them I’m really excited about.
Will it be difficult to play the new album live?
Yeah, but I’ve kind of agreed to do it, now [laughs]. I put out an Instagram video saying we’re going to play the album in full, at the launch at Heartbreakers in November [1st]. The show is going to be the album, with videos. I’d like the visuals to be a big part of it. The PowerPoint shows let me test the water with that. It’s won me over. I’d like to do that when we play the record in full.
There are a couple songs that really worry me; there’s one called Popcorn, which I don’t know how we’re gonna do. I almost want to reject copying the record, and do it as bossa nova or something like that. I quite like it when there’s a live version and a recorded version. But we have committed now, so we will be doing the album in full. Come and see what happens [laughs].
Is there a track on the album you’re most proud of?
I have a clear memory of being really excited about Times Square Kiss in the studio, listening to Chris [Hann] — who plays keys in the live band and on the record — playing these amazing jazz licks. He complemented the track in ways I just couldn’t on the original demo. I thought, ‘This is fresh, this is a new flavour’. I couldn’t do that at home with my laptop. It felt like we were giving something new in this record.
You spend ages writing songs and then get different people on the album, and they always come up with what is my favourite part on the record. Hearing Chris lay that down in the studio, it felt like we were offering something completely different. I can’t wait to get it out there. So, maybe that track.
Is there anything you’ve wanted to try in the studio that you haven’t been able to? A full orchestra, for instance?
Unfortunately, it comes down to budget. Even on I’m Leaving Berlin, from the first album, the very last chorus has MIDI strings. And we always heard it as real, horror movie strings, a Scott Walker-y thing. In the end, we had to settle on a patch that did the job. You hope it does the job well enough, but it doesn’t match what you hear in your head.
But also, I think it’s impossible to put something out and not wish you could have another crack at something. There is something liberating in that, that you have to stop at some point. When you send the master, that is it! That’s the final product. But on every album, there are always a few moments where I listen to it and wish I had another opportunity. You just hope there’s slightly fewer of those moments on the next one.
Bucket list, I’d love to do something with an orchestra. But that’s pie in the sky. To do that, I’d have to get all my ducks in a row, work out what everybody’s doing, and do it in an hour [laughs]. Or have a great MIDI patch where I can play with it to my heart’s content.
Are there any songs with Teenage Waitress that you wish you could change?
I can’t listen to the recording of Hold Me in the Afternoon. There’s a note… I can’t listen to it, it’s such a thorn in my side.
With every album, I’ll do the drunk text thing to producer Mike at like 1am and go, ‘listen to Blue Tick at 3:02 and tell me that it’s all okay!’. I need that reassurance sometimes. That actually happened with that song. There was a timestamp I sent him and went, ‘The song’s out in two weeks! This is shit!’. He text me back the next day and went, ‘You’re full of shit’. Get over it. [laughs].
Going back to your PowerPoint shows for a sec, you took them on the road for a couple of nights. How was that?
I loved it. I really, really loved it. I’d sort of been doing that work already, in the book I’d been writing, and from lectures on songwriting I’d been doing at the University of Winchester. Being invited to lecture unlocked a lot of that. I’d never stepped back and thought about it until I had to deliver something interesting. I had to zoom in, in a way I never did.
That’s where the idea of the book came from. I used to open lectures with a random songwriting tip of the day, and there’d be a story or a song attached to it. I started thinking that I’d released the songs, but never told the stories. That’s always something that interested me. Whenever I watch VH1 Storytellers or MTV Unplugged, and the artist gets a chance to talk a little bit more about the process or how a song came to be, I think that’s incredibly interesting. Arguably just as interesting as the song. I wish there was some sort of local night where songwriters could spend half their set talking about it, and half their set doing the songs. That was the idea around the PowerPoint shows.
It was also trying to reinvent a live show. It’s quite hard to get people excited about live music these days, so I was thinking how I could spin it and dress it up differently. I went through various ideas. Originally, the show was about how to approach the third album. But I realised there weren’t enough stories about that.
I loved it. I liked that I was very, very scared about it, and Chris and I worked really hard on it for about five months. We practised once a week and chipped away at it bit by bit. They were the two most rehearsed shows in Teenage Waitress history. It’s not your usual concert, and I was worried about how it would go down. But both nights went down really well. Better than I expected.
How did they compare to actual gigs?
What I liked about them was the freedom. I could practice at home; there was a lot less trying to get five people in a room at the same time. If I had a panic a week before the show, the option was there to change something. We played a couple of songs that we’ll probably never play again.
It would be very hard to do that at a normal show. I really like having the full band when we go out and do a Teenage Waitress show — I think that represents the sound I have in my head the best — but this lent itself to the whole show, which is about how songs are written, traditionally with one person. I purposefully chose venues that were small and intimate. That one in Winchester (The Railway Inn) was great, it just felt like a spare bedroom. I also liked that we didn’t have to pay fifty quid for every rehearsal [laughs].
I’m looking forward to making a big racket with the band again, but it was fun to do that. There are songs in that show I haven’t played for ten years.
This album, like your first two, is getting a vinyl release. What is it about vinyl you love?
I’m just a fan. That’s my preferred way of consuming music. I get really excited when I’ve got a vinyl record in my hand. I write to that format, going back to writing albums, not singles. I think of it as a two-sided thing, with two beginnings and endings. Whenever I look at a record, I’m back to being six again, looking at my dad’s Sgt. Pepper, and being fascinated by it.
Come the release of this album, you’ll have three records under your belt. That’s more than the Stone Roses ever released, more than Joy Division put out, more than the Traveling Wilburys dared unleash. How does that feel?
It’s nice that there’s a narrative. A lot of my heroes are super prolific. You’ve got your Bowies and your Costellos. It’s nice to see that journey. There’s always a song on a Bowie album that’s an indicator of where he’s going next. I like that. I sort of know where the fourth Teenage Waitress album, if there ever is one, would go. But after that, I have no idea. I’m excited to see where my songwriting takes me from there. A lot of people I love have a high album count, and a kind of narrative to that journey. I’d love to keep writing albums. It’s a very expensive hobby [laughs].
When are we going to get a Teenage Waitress greatest hits?
When there is a greatest hit [laughs].
If you had to put together some sort of compilation of your own material, Oasis’ Stop the Clocks style, would you know what to pick?
I think so, and I think a lot of them probably wouldn’t be the singles, actually. There’s a great Bowie one called iSelect, where he’s doing a similar thing. You know the Sweet Thing medley from Diamond Dogs? That’s on there. They’ve almost got the anti-singles on there. It’s a great insight into this person that’s written so many great songs, and the ones that make him tick aren’t the big sellers or the obvious choices.
I’d be quite interested to do that. I haven’t given it much thought. I guess the closest I get is festival setlists, where you try to do the best thing you can in 30 minutes. That’s an interesting exercise. Maybe I’ll revisit my old albums and see.
I watched a film called Beyond the Black Rainbow recently. I fell in love with the soundtrack, and I know you’re a bigger movie nerd than I. As a musician, do you ever watch a film and find yourself composing your own soundtrack to it in your head? Could you see yourself doing a score?
That’s an interesting thing to ask. That very nearly came up earlier, when we were talking about I’m Leaving Berlin and that string outro. I have this bucket list thing where I’d love to create a soundtrack for a fictional horror film. Not work to any visuals, just write the plot of a horror film, the characters, and then turn out the lights one Halloween and record it. I wouldn’t be surprised if that happens in the next three or four years, as a side project. It’s on my radar.
How are you feeling about the upcoming single and album release? You can use one word.
Relieved. [Laughs]
Lastly, what’s the best biscuit to dunk in a cup of tea?
Lidl have a version of a Hobnob called an Oatie. A milk chocolate Oatie. That’s my jam. I’m open to other biscuits, of course. How about you?
I don’t drink tea. But I do think you have to consider how many dunks you get before it breaks. Rich Teas are flimsy.
Yeah, they’re awful. Try an Oatie. They’re better than hobnobs, I think.
A huge thank you to Daniel for giving us the chance to probe him on the new single and all things music. His latest release, Blue Tick Burning, is out now on all streaming platforms. His upcoming album, Upstairs to Finish a Dream, is out October 10th via Black Star Records and can be pre-ordered here.