When meeting Olivia Dean in person, the first thing that strikes you is the intense aura of calm that surrounds her. On set for her ES Magazine cover shoot, as assistants field myriad Deliveroo orders for lunch and stylists methodically steam her YSL looks in the background, she sits unfazed on the terrace of a Hackney Studio, cocooned in a trench coat, quietly pulling on a cigarette.
‘What’s the point in making things stressful? I think I’m good at zooming out,’ she laughs, when we sit down for our interview a few weeks later at a restaurant in King’s Cross. In her off-duty uniform of white tank, jeans and a leather jacket casually slung over her shoulder, she apologises for running a little late (‘I was at a driving lesson — think it’s about time I learnt’) and promptly orders lunch, a pea and shallot ravioli which she seems a little miffed about when it arrives with only nine pieces.
So far, so normal — but Dean’s life right now is anything but. This year alone has seen the 25-year-old neo soul singer tour the UK off the back of her debut album, the Mercury-nominated Messy, culminating in three sold-out nights at Hammersmith Apollo. ‘[It was] bonkers to do three nights back-to-back — and have my mum there the whole time, bang in the middle of the balcony, living her dreams,’ says Dean. ‘I loved it. I could have done it 10 more times.’
Then there was the sob-inducing set on Glastonbury’s Pyramid Stage — something she’d manifested from the very beginning of her career: ‘Make an album, play Jools Holland and play the Pyramid Stage. That’s the thing — I’ve done them now, I need to figure out some new goals.’ The festival has been formative for Dean over the years, but this one stood out as it was the first time that there were as many women as men on the line-up, something that buoyed her throughout. ‘Just seeing so many women, in their different genres and forms, absolutely killing it. It put so much more fire in my belly to be one of them. And so proud to be like… let’s go, girls.’
Sadly she didn’t get to watch Shania, but between the Pyramid performance and her secret set at Strummerville (‘I’ve done it for the past two years, it’s a nice little tradition. What was not planned was that I would have lost my voice; I partied a little hard on Friday night’), the acts she was able to catch included LCD Soundsystem and Dua Lipa. ‘I was with all of my girls. I got on someone’s shoulders, and I really lived my festival moment.’
On her own performance, it wasn’t just the music that stood out for the critics — Dean emerged on stage wearing a crystal encrusted T-shirt framing a black and white portrait of her grandmother. ‘It was a custom look by Chopova Lowena. I’ve been obsessed with what they do for ages — their studio is based super close to where I live — and we felt like this was the perfect moment do something together,’ she says. ‘We’d been working on it for months and months. It originally had a portrait of a dog on it, but I had this shower thought that [the portrait] has to be my granny.’
Before launching into the track ‘Carmen’, which opens with a recording of her gran’s voice, Dean explained, ‘[My grandmother] came to this country when she was 18, never been on a plane… she had my mum quite young, my mum had me and I’m a product of her bravery. So, this song is for my granny, to the Windrush generation, for any immigrant, anyone who’s brave enough to move.’
Why did she feel so compelled to explain the background of the track? ‘It’s important to give people context. I remember I saw Paul Simon at British Summer Time once, and my main takeaway was how he would give people a little bit of context before each song. It made everything feel so much deeper. And I just thought, you’re gonna hear her voice, you need to know who’s talking and you need to know what I’m singing about, because I’m gonna get emotional and I want you to feel that emotion too.’
It clearly struck a chord with her audience, and it’s a song that often elicits the greatest response after shows. ‘I meet so many people after the shows, who say, “That really spoke to me.” And I meet a lot of older people who are like, “[Thank you for] shouting out the older generation.”’ I argue that the cultural resonance of Windrush is still huge, and that plans by London Mayor Sadiq Khan to rename part of the Overground the ‘Windrush Line’ feels a little reductive — something with which Dean agrees. ‘It’s cool,’ she says, ‘but maybe we could have a bit more?’
After Glasto, while everyone else wrestled with their post-festival come-down — and the impending general election the same week — Dean was already back on the road, readying herself for her first proper festival head - line slot at Brighton’s soul music festival Love Supreme. None other than Chaka Khan headlined the next day: ‘That woman’s voice is exactly as it is on the records. My god, if I can be like that at 71, still singing and still looking absolutely fabulous, I’ll take it.’
She won’t be drawn on which party she backed on polling day but having grown up under a Tory government for thepast 14 years has obviously coloured her perspective. ‘It’s been difficult for a lot of people for a long time in this country. I think it’s become so expensive to just live,’ she says. ‘It’s expensive to have fun and have a better quality of life. I just think it feels like a time for change, and that is very welcome.’
I have this little feminist inside my heart, and she just doesn’t allow me to do anything that doesn’t align with my values
If Dean sounds like a natural politician herself, it’s fair to say she’s had good training. Her mother, Christine Dean, was appointed to be the first Black deputy leader of the Women’s Equality Party back in 2020 — a landmark moment for any political party in Europe — though she has since stepped away from politics to pursue writing.
How did her mother’s vocation shape Dean growing up? ‘She has instilled such a feminist [spirit] in me. She’s a legend,’ says Dean. ‘It’s as though sometimes I have this little feminist — she’s not even little, she’s big — inside my heart, and she just doesn’t allow me to do anything that doesn’t align with those values. Even if I wanted to, my brain just goes, “No, don’t stand for that. Absolutely not.”’
There’s a flicker of this feminist rage when we move on to discuss what a huge year it has been for her fellow Brit School alumni, Raye (who scooped Album of the Year at this year’s Brit Awards) and Rachel Chinouriri, who is breaking new ground in the white-washed world of indie-pop. Some wonder if lazy comparisons ever breed a sense of competitiveness between them?
I didn’t give that a thought. It’s like Blur and Oasis. They come from the same place but are completely different. I just hate the narrative you get, especially with women, that if one person succeeds, the others fail? It’s like how many white male indie bands are out there?! I think we can handle being successful women at the same time.’
What the Brit School did give her was a sound grounding in the ability to traverse musical genres. Where Dean’s debut album was a tribute to growing up in north London’s Walthamstow on a diet of R&B and soul music from Aretha Franklin to Lauryn Hill (‘people described [the album] as a comfort blanket, which I get’), her new material marks a departure from the style of music that wooed her Gen Z fans in the first place.
The first track to drop this summer was ‘Time’ — psychedelic, heavy on the guitars and, well, quite angry. Was this deliberate? ‘Look, I’m not somebody who’s interested in doing something predictable [or] doing something twice. I don’t want to make “Dive” part two, or “Carmen” part two; I’ve done that. I’m always looking to challenge myself and explore new things.
‘[When I wrote the song] I was really busy, which I was very grateful for. It’s obviously quite a universal thing that people talk about a lot, but you have to decide what you do with your time and who you’re going to give it to, and which bits you’re going to give to yourself. Does that make you selfish? Does that make you ambitious? And what does it mean to be a woman who’s really got a lot of ambition?’
What does it mean to be a woman who’s really got a lot of ambition?
From first-hand experience, it’s fairly exhausting. But add to that being a young woman of colour, working in an industry dominated by pale, stale, male execs who do not share the same lived experience as her, there’s a nuanced layer of challenges. Which often results in artists like Dean having to work twice as hard for half the outcome, sometimes at the risk of chronic burnout.
Does she have a strategy to protect herself from this? ‘Yoga! If I don’t do it for 20 minutes in the morning, it can be the difference between a good day and a bad day. It’s nothing major — I’m just talking a little YouTube vinyasa flow at home, but I really like to get into it… get some nice music on, burn some incense.’
Dean also takes her mental health seriously, citing therapy as a major support for her creative flow and output. ‘I’m very particular about therapy. I have learned so much about myself to an extent that I’m so self-aware, and secure. Obviously, I have my moments, but I’m able to recognise why I do things, what I don’t want to do, and what is going to make me feel better.
‘Before I started therapy, I had this real worry that I would figure out all my stuff but then my music [would] be shit. Because that’s where I used to process everything. If I become too self-aware then I won’t be able to write. But it’s completely the opposite. It’s only informed and inspired me to write more.’
I joke that having embraced yoga and therapy in earnest, there’s only astrology left to complete the holy trinity of Gen Z self-care. ‘I’m not too deep into it. I’m more into tarot. I don’t know if I actually believe in the cards, but I think it’s a really good exercise to explore how you’re feeling about something and talk it through and see what it provokes.
At her last reading, Dean ‘pulled my past, present and future cards. For the past, I was given the lady juggler — something my best friend and I found so poignant, because it’s about trying to keep everything afloat. For my present, it was the star card — all related to nourishing the earth, nourishing yourself and like you’re ready to step into who you are right now, unapologetically.’
As for the future? She drew the woman holding a gold coin — a symbol of future wealth and abundance. ‘The type of woman that other women look up to,’ she says with a content smile.
‘Time’ by Olivia Dean is out now
Photographer: Stephen Burridge
Stylist: Jessica Skeete-Cross
Hair Stylist: Sophie Jane Anderson at Future Rep using Boucleme
Make-Up Artist: Emily Engleman using Westman Atelier and Glossier
Manicure by Imarni at A-Frame Agency using Bio Sculpture
Photographer’s Assistant: Emily Cockram
Stylist’s Assistant: Eden Lovesee Clark
Hair Stylist’s Assistant: Clare Hurford
This shoot was supported by Saint Laurent
