An Incredibly Honest Talk With Eoin Loveless from Drenge

L-R: Rory Loveless (drums), Eoin Loveless (guitars)

Drenge are two guys from Castleton in Derbyshire. Where is that? It’s one of those Population: You places in the East Midlands of the UK. That could be why, when speaking to guitarist Eoin on the phone, he seemed comically indifferent to most aspects of being alive.

NOISEY: Hi, before we start, how do I pronounce your wild name?
Eoin Loveless: It’s pronounced Owen. It’s pretty bad spelling. It’s Irish.

People mess up saying it, huh?
Ehm, uh, people kinda get used to it after a while, I guess. They call me anything. Most things. Alien. Eon. Oyim. It. I’ve been through it all.

How are you today, anyway?
I’m good. You?

I had a coffee just before.
Mmhmmm.

I’m holding in the biggest turd as we speak.
OK.

Just putting that out there. Real honest, like.
Ha, thanks man.

The reason I have shit on the brain is because of Drenge’s web page. I love it. At some point it has become a repository for gloriously shit things.
Yep. It’s our scrapbook. It’s a joint effort between me and Rory (Loveless, drummer). Before we started the band, we used the word “drenge” to describe that sort of stuff. It’s the Danish word for “boys”. They pronounce it with a dropped g. We just added the g ‘cause we thought it sounded really different in our own language.

So you named your band after things that are great because they’re so awful.
Mmhmmm. Pretty much.

You seem shy, Eoin.
You know what? I’m really tired. It’s 11 o’clock in the evening. I’m knackered. I’m here drinking wine on the sofa.

Is that so you can get through this interview?
I don’t know. I’ve got another three or four interviews after this one. Got to be professional.

You’re over it. You want to go to bed.
It’s kind of annoying, because this one seems like it’s going to be the best one. You’ve already talked about poo. That doesn’t come up a lot in interviews. I think the next ones will probably be more like, dry.

I am dismally unqualified.
Yeah, you’re writing for Noisey man, you’re going for it but you are dismally unqualified. I know another guy who writes for Noisey. He’s such a nice guy. He also writes for The Guardian and stuff. I look at him and go, “How’d he do that?” He interviewed us for The Guardian and he was really suave and wore really smart clothes. He interviewed us for Noisey and he turned up in average clothes with a beer. It was a double life.

I can hear you drinking.
Look, I’m not hastily drinking. I’m just, as they say, polishing off a bottle of wine.

What’s the deal?
Oh man. I’ve done not very much today. I’ve just been wasting a lot of time. I just finished watching an episode of Game of Thrones with my girlfriend. She’s on the third season so I’m guiding her softly through that. All the mental shit’s about to kick off.

You read the books?
Nah. I’m ehm, I’ve got a pretty bad relationship with literature. I’m in love with the TV series and don’t want anything to spoil it. I’ve seen the books. They look scary. Last time I read a book that big, it was Harry Potter. I try to read. It comes and goes sometimes. This year I’ve been reading this book by Will Self called Umbrella. That’s really thick, and it’s really tough. It’s all written in, what do you call it… stream of thought.

What’s it about?
It’s about a woman in like 1920s London who’s working as a prostitute but also working for the feminist movement. It’s about a guy in the ‘70s in London working as a psychotherapist and taking care of an older woman. Then it’s about someone in the modern day, but I haven’t really kinda tucked into the story yet. It switches between those three stories at any given moment. I have no idea what’s going on. It’s good, though. Really well written. It’s really tough. It’s been in my backpack for the best part of the year now. It’s really tatty, and like, the book is designed to look tatty when you buy it. Now it looks like I don’t care about the book, that I don’t like it. I still carry it around [laughs].

What else is in your backpack?
Nothing else. There’s usually two pairs of like, not clean pants that should be in my clothes bag, my laptop, and my pen-knife.

Do you feel unsafe?
No, I come from a long line of people who are very practical. Sometimes I like to think I’m really practical too, so when I was packing, I picked up this pen-knife and I looked at it and I went: “This’ll come in handy.” Threw it in my pack. It’s just been in there for ages, but it means so much to me and I would never want to get it taken away at airport security or anything. It’s something my granddad gave me.

Aren’t you from buttfuck nowhere?
Uh, yeah. Yeah.

Surely you must’ve been ostracised at school for not being practical in a practical little world.
I guess so. I mean, yeah. There were a few of us at school. There was a large group of nerdy, arty kids at school. I probably didn’t get as much bullying as I deserved.

Probably because of your pen-knife.
[laughs] Yeah, because of that. Also like, I wasn’t ginger and I didn’t wear glasses. There were so many more of those kids to pick on. Actually, I just kinda fell into the middle ground. No Man’s Land.

I thought gingers were more exalted in your part of the world. Celtic myths and legends are all about ginger babes.
Oh we love them, but they’re ripe for bullying. I never picked on a ginger kid ever. There was one who threw like, a massive tantrum in science class once. It was the most awkward thing ever. He announced, “You can’t tell me what to do! You don’t know me!” Then he stormed out of the class and shut the door, really loudly. Everyone started to giggle. My mate said something like, “What’s his problem?” and our science teacher just looked at him and went, “How would you know?” The class goes: “Oooooo-ooooooo.”

Man you put me right there.
[silence]

Hi?
[silence]

Eoin are you OK?
Hey yeah man, I’m here. I was just… I don’t know.

I feel like a moment happened.
I’m not drunk, just tired. I’m kind of in a spot. Yeah. I’m at my girlfriend’s house. It’s like, I’m here for two nights and this is the second night.

I think it’s admirable you have a girlfriend.
Well, thanks. Thank you.

All I mean is you are a young man in a touring band that is doing well.
Yep. I guess so. I don’t know. I’m not that great.

That’s a recipe for heaps of sex.
Oh yeah, definitely. But like, ew. Not interested. I’m like a massive hygienist. Like, loads of sex with loads of different people sounds about as appealing to me as a really dirty kitchen. It’s what everyone expects of you to be in a band. I’d rather not get involved.

You are a sweet boy. Kind of neurotic but also really sweet. Like Woody Allen.
Oh yeah, thanks. Except with my great band, and with better hair. Thing is, girls have another option, and he’s the drummer. So I get all the kind of, you know, lower-IQ bitches. It’s kind of like, “Wow.” I normally just say something really polite and then run away to the safest area, which is occasionally the backstage area or the fire exit. Or into the van that we’re touring in. I stay there until everything goes away. I really don’t like it. It makes me uncomfortable.

I love you, man.
This is the most personal interview I’ve ever done.

You’re in safe hands. Ish.
OK. You know that Megan Fox interview where the guy wrote this like, really sycophantic thing?

Yeah.
Can you do something like that?

What would you like me to say?
“His skin is like milk being poured over Special K.”

Drenge are touring Australia in 2014. For tour details click here.

Follow Toby on Twitter: @jane_tobes