At the turn of the year there is always a lot of looking back and forward, so Jake Bugg came to mind again. His debut, simply called “Jake Bugg”, celebrated its tenth anniversary in 2022. Unfortunately, hardly anyone in Germany cheered – a pity, especially since the anniversary edition comes with two additional albums full of wonderful demos and live tracks from the Royal Albert Hall 2014 (with Michael Kiwanuka and Johnny Marr). That deserves more attention.
When I first met Jake Bugg in late 2012, he was just a boy, 18 years old. In his thick accent you could hear the Clifton/Nottingham council estate where he grew up, but his life had already changed: Bugg’s debut had shot up to No album sings. Such glorious tracks follow as the haunting Simple As This and the wild stabbing tale Seen It All. The hymn for eternity is “Two Fingers”: Even today I want to jump up and change my life as soon as I hear it. It doesn’t matter whether the two fingers are the British fuck-you sign to the past or the victory symbol. In any case, it’s about a new start: “So I kiss goodbye to every little ounce of pain/ Light a cigarette and wish the world away/ I got out, I got out, I’m alive and I’m here to stay … “
Sometimes Bugg seemed to falter a bit in the past few years, and now and then he was probably persuaded that he had to sound more modern now. But at heart he is and remains a classic songwriter. In 2012 he said he didn’t want 50 minutes of fame, he wanted 50 years. So there are 40 left. Does he even find that number a little scary today? The first ten years already feel like an eternity.
This is the fate of the early triumphers: for the rest of their lives they will be judged by their first success, by their own ego and by everyone else. Boris Becker won Wimbledon in 1985, he never got rid of the “17-year-old Leimener” with the winning fist. Macaulay Culkin was never as cute as in “Home Alone”, Robbie Williams has gray hair at 48, but at least he survived. Aaron Carter has just died at the age of 34, a quarter of a century after his first pop hit “Crush On You”.
Jake Bugg played at the Glastonbury Festival when he was 17, and he recorded his second album with Rick Rubin in California. He dated supermodels, became friends with Noel Gallagher — and none of it seemed to impress him. Because of this self-confidence, I easily believe that he is capable of a few more decades.
When we met the second time, in October 2013 in a London pub, he showed a fascinating sovereignty with a simultaneous absence of arrogance. He used every free minute between interviews to strum—he was then able to tune out the hype entirely. When it came time to drive to Brixton Academy to play one of three sold-out concerts, his promoter told him the car wasn’t there yet. “It’s only two blocks away,” Bugg said. He picked up the guitar case and nodded to me, “We’re walking!” Before anyone could argue, we were outside. Jake Bugg is good at taking care of himself.