CASEY // Goodbye, Farewell, And Amen

It’s been almost three months to the day since hardcore staples Casey publicly announced their upcoming departure from the music world.

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In their short but sweet career, the Welsh quintet brought us two stellar albums, Love Is Not Enough and Where I Go When I Am Sleeping, along with a plethora of quality live performances across the world.

For a band that were only in existence as “Casey” for less than five years, it’s pretty astounding to see just how far their music has spread and how many lives have been touched by the band. If you had the chance to see them in Australia last year supporting Belle Haven, you’d know what I’m talking about when I say that Casey have had a profound impact on Australian music fans.

So if they’re producing high quality music, and have a widespread international fan base, why exactly are they saying goodbye?

After a quick read of their Facebook announcement, or a scroll through vocalist, Tom Weaver’s social media platforms, it became clear that this “breakup” isn’t really a breakup at all. Rather, Casey is just a story that has finished being told, at least for now.

It’s not often we hear musicians coming forward about their disenchantment with music, and talking about this so candidly. I recently had the chance to talented musician, and wonderful human, Tom Weaver, about falling out of love with music, his feelings about the future, and the journey that Casey was.

After reading lots of your Q&As on Instagram and Twitter, it seems like Casey is coming to an end because you feel like you have finished telling your story (at least for now). Could you elaborate on what you mean by this?

So, the success of Casey, by whatever metric you choose to measure it, was always an afterthought. I think I explained it a little better on Instagram than I did anywhere else, and I think this plays in well to the second question, but I have no issue with admitting that I am no longer in love with making and performing music, which is something I think a lot of musician find it difficult to discuss publicly. On a personal level, Casey was nothing more than a platform from which to vent my frustrations and talk about my experiences. And for the time being, there’s no further part of myself which I wish to creatively dissect, and I don’t feel in any way obliged to continue making music just for the sake of it. So, in the interest of maintaining my sanity, I’d rather not pursue a physically and mentally exhaustive hobby that I get no personal pleasure from.

Most musicians end one musical endeavour to start another, they never seem to stray too far from the music path, but it seems like you’re going to be taking a step back from music altogether. How are you feeling about closing this chapter?

Following on from what I was saying previously, it took a long time for me to appreciate the idea of what defines me and find a sense of self-worth that didn’t just revolve around my chosen creative passions or online persona. I think a lot of people, particularly creatives, lose themselves in the identity of what they do, rather than who they are. So, once I became comfortable with that reality, it didn’t feel like such a monumental event. As Casey draws to a close, I will continue to be, and if I chose to pick up a new project I can, but I’m not obliged to. I think there’s a great sense of empowerment in that knowledge.

Casey is an extraordinary band, and after seeing you guys on tour with Belle Haven last year, it’s pretty clear that you’ve made a profound impact on a lot of people’s lives. What impact did this have on yours?

I’m not sure I can agree with Casey being an extraordinary band but thank you for saying so [Laughs.] There are so many cliché tropes to fall into here, but without wading too deeply into platitudes, I’ve travelled to placed I otherwise wouldn’t have, met a whole host of wonderful friends who I’d never have had the opportunity to meet, and above all else it’s provided me with a creatively stimulating and emotionally supportive environment within which to process and discuss my emotional turbulence.

Being in the public eye is a really full on thing, and being idolised my so many people can be a lot to handle. How are you feeling about taking a step back from the spotlight? Do you feel like this will have a big effect on you and your mental health?

To be honest it doesn’t really feel as though I’ve ever been in the spotlight. Social media has always been slightly beyond me, and I’ve never felt obliged to act in a particular way or provide a set level of engagement while using it. I like talking to fans of the band and I like posting dumb shit, but if I don’t feel like saying anything then I just don’t. The only drawback for me is that I’m a huge procrastinator and it serves as ample distraction, so I might take an extended break from it for a while once the band is over.

I read somewhere that you’re thinking of potentially releasing a collection of short stories at some point in the future. Do you feel like you will continue a writing/artistic career post-Casey? What exactly is your plan after music?

Yeah, I’ve got a note in my phone with a few short story plot ideas in, whether I ever get round to fleshing them out and letting them see the light of day is another thing entirely [Laughs.] A lot of my favourite books are collections of short stories, such as The Bus Driver Who Wanted To Be God by Etgar Keret, so if I were to continue writing I think that would be what I’d try to imitate. I don’t think I’ve got the mental stamina or attention span to keep a single train of thought going in longform, but short bursts of creativity I might be able to manage.
Aside from that though I’ve recently started a podcast with my best friend Jack called In My Unprofessional Opinion. It’s not something we’re taking incredibly seriously for the time being, just a nice platform to talk about things we’re passionate about.

I think a lot of people, particularly creatives, lose themselves in the identity of what they do, rather than who they are. So, once I became comfortable with that reality, it didn’t feel like such a monumental event. As Casey draws to a close, I will continue to be, and if I chose to pick up a new project I can, but I’m not obliged to. I think there’s a great sense of empowerment in that knowledge.
[TOM]

I’m sure Australia is very glad you guys made it out here before calling it quits, is there anywhere you really wish you got to tour?

America was always a huge one for me, so we’re all incredibly grateful to Jonny Boucher and Hope For The Day for making that dream a reality. Aside from that, my old band did a short tour of Japan and I would have loved to return there. I think that was my first real experience of culture shock, and I’d love to go back with more time to explore. I also hated Japanese food the last time I went so I ended up living off McDonalds haha, I wanna go back now that I’m (slightly) more mature and actually indulge a little more.

Do you have any regrets about your music career? If you did it again would you do anything differently? Or are you satisfied with the journey that Casey was.

No, I think I’m satisfied with how Casey has developed, and it’s been wonderful to see so many people reinterpreting our songs through the lens of their own circumstances. It’s really taken on a life of its own. Our label has always been wonderfully supportive of our choices, so we’ve never been pressured into anything we weren’t comfortable with. Aside from that time Toby accidentally pulled a pro-wrestling move on a Being As An Ocean fan our touring experiences have always been pretty positive.

You’re a pretty interesting human being, even outside of music, will we be seeing more of you now that Casey is over? Are you planning on keeping up your public persona, or are you keen to disappear and be a regular guy for a while?

Again, I don’t think I can attest to being particularly interesting [Laughs]. I’d be more comfortable saying I’m just strange. I’m also not sure whether I have a persona, I’d like to think my social media is just a reflection of how I behave in real life.

Well I haven’t used my Facebook in a long time, other than for messenger and as an admin for the band page, so that’s going straight in the bin. For the most part my Instagram is just photos from tour, although I do enjoy hosting live streams while I’m cooking, so I’ll probably keep that side of it up. I think Twitter will always be my primary output, whether people stick around to listen to me babble incoherently is another thing entirely.

It’s really admirable listening to you talk about how you feel disenchanted with music, and have frankly seemed to lose your passion for being in the band. Could you elaborate more on how this made you feel and how you came to the decision to bring Casey to an end?

The conversation regarding the band dissolving originally started with me saying that I’d be stepping back. I never intended for it to be the end of Casey directly, but following a conversation between ourselves it became clear that, although it wasn’t what everyone wanted, it was the most appropriate move.

As far as I’m concerned, the detachment from music and my disenchantment began shortly after our headline tour last April. That’s when it really hit home that there was nothing left in me that motivated my creative passion. It took a little while to process that, but I’m sure at some point there was a eureka moment where I thought “you know what, this no longer sparks joy in me, I don’t HAVE to do this”.

You say you don’t have anything left to say and that you don’t want to create fictitious music. What do you think is the most important story you’ve told throughout your journey with Casey?

I suppose that’s the same as saying “which is the most important piece of the jigsaw?”. For me, each song and narrative have their own sentimental significance, and structurally they all play a part in weaving the fabric of the Casey story. So, trying to prioritise them in terms of importance isn’t really possible.

The most important story we’ve told, or at least one we’ve tried the hardest to promote, is the importance of conversation and the ethos of inclusivity. It became the foundation of our video for Fade back in 2015, and it’s something we’ve tried to talk about publicly wherever possible since then.

While Casey won’t be back in Australia again, you can catch them on their final run of shows around the UK and Europe in April and May this year.

If you’d like to listen to Tom’s latest (non-music related) work, In My Unprofessional Opinion, you can catch it on Spotify, iTunes or wherever you usually find your podcasts.

Farewell, Casey. Australian music fans will forever have a hole in their hearts in the shape of five Welsh guys playing sad songs.