Luke Hemmings Is a Fountain of Existentialism on His New Single — And He Doesn’t Want to Turn It Off

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Luke Hemmings - Credit: Andrea Vargas*
Luke Hemmings - Credit: Andrea Vargas*

It’s not often that Luke Hemmings finds himself on his own. For the better part of the past 12 years, the 27-year-old singer and songwriter has shared the stage with his three bandmates in 5 Seconds of Summer. The Australian pop-rock band has built its career around being a relentless touring act, playing to thousands-deep audiences on nearly back-to-back runs in support of five studio albums. Four years ago, when that cycle was interrupted for the first time, Hemmings retreated into himself.

His first solo album, When Facing the Things We Turn Away From (2021), was a meditation on a decade’s worth of experiences he didn’t have time to process as they were happening. That kind of self-interrogation would continue as he sought to understand himself more deeply on an individual level, and recently, he realized he felt inklings of isolation while deeply immersed in crowds. He felt it while glancing out of car windows in Los Angeles, his home away from his native Sydney; touring the world with 5SOS; and walking the streets of New York, where he wrote most of his second solo project, Boy, out April 26.

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“It has this loneliness and this yearning to be home again, but in different ways,” Hemmings tells Rolling Stone over Zoom from L.A. “I’m surrounded by people all the time. I’m in hotels and planes and playing shows and all this stuff, which obviously has great parts in that. But for some reason, I’ve found it more difficult to be on tour recently, just mentally and within myself as a person.” During those stretches of time away from home, the singer found himself transfixed on watching his world change in real time. “People are having kids, people are getting married — or they’re not and they’re stressed about it,” Hemmings, who is married to songwriter Sierra Deaton, explains. “Life starts happening whether you’re checking in or not.”

“Shakes,” the first single from Boy, sifts through this sense of wonder. Reuniting with producer Sammy Witte (Harry Styles, SZA, Halsey), Hemmings moves through a haze of perspectives marked by different distortions of his own voice. Even when he’s alternating between narrator and protagonist — like when his yearning for comfort is interrupted by the whispered realization “the city tends to move on all the same” — it’s all still him. “Whenever I try and write from other perspectives, I’ll get across some things and some details will come in,” he says. “But then eventually, particularly with the nature of this as a solo thing, it always ends up being autobiographical to some extent. If I try and run from that, it always seems to catch up to me.”

Here, Hemmings tells Rolling Stone about exploring existential, childlike wonder on Boy, challenging the boundaries of his anxiety while becoming more confident outside of 5SOS, and what he’s most excited about exploring musically and visually as a solo artist.

“Shakes” essentially being a love song is such a contrast to When Facing the Things We Turn Away From, where you were mostly sitting with and interrogating these dark and complicated feelings. What made you want to lead with it?
It initially started in New York as one of the earliest songs that was written for this. I was experimenting with writing from other people’s perspectives and observing. Almost in a Lost in Translation way, where you’re observing the world and real life seems a bit intense. That’s where the chorus came from. The chorus was written a year and a half ago, and then some of the verses were written two months ago. The story sort of changes, and it becomes this mix of different feelings because over those nine months since you wrote the first part, you’ve obviously lived even more. Songs take on new meanings even as you’re writing them, which was really cool to experience. It still has the feeling of the first album, but it is different and I wanted to lead with that, which I think is really a bit braver.

How did that inform your creative direction?
Because it’s a short album, or a long EP — whatever way you look at it — I really wanted to make it [cohesive]. We went down to Bogota in Colombia and worked with a director there. There’s going to be a “Shakes” video, but there’s going to be other videos along with it. It’s all tied in together. I tried to do that on the first album and we did a good job, but I think on this one it feels like you’re getting lost in it a bit. It feels like more of an all-encompassing world, and I really was striving for that. Even before the songs were fully finished, we had a good idea of what they felt like and I made a big deck of my references, which pulled from all different places. It was a lot of Lost in Translation and Paris, Texas — things where, obviously, I’m the protagonist, but the background is also a star in it. The landscape is very much a part of it.

Your first album emerged almost subconsciously from a time of stillness and reflection. What was it like exploring this new project more intentionally?
I’ve been thinking about that a lot. When you write all these songs, you forget that you’ve got to relive it again and be like, “Why did I write these? What are they about? How did we get here?” And I think you’re right, that first album I didn’t really plan it to happen until it was like, “Oh, this is an album.” I really fell in love with having a different outlet, musically and emotionally. It was really fun this time to dive into the things that I loved about the first album and just expand on them. Even small moments like “A Beautiful Dream,” which was kind of an outlier on the first album.

With this new one, there’s an emotion I can tap into within myself to write songs for this project that I found really freeing, and I’ve understood way more about myself as a person from doing this. It has this loneliness and this yearning to be home again, but in different ways. I’m surrounded by people all the time. I’m in hotels and planes and playing shows and all this stuff, which obviously has great parts in that. But for some reason, I’ve found it more difficult to be on tour recently, just mentally and within myself as a person. I can still tap into that same emotion from the first album, but it seems more refined in a different way because it’s that same feeling, but in a new environment.

Was that a linear process for you, having to get something out on that first album in order to settle into the mindset of this one?
Yeah, 100 percent. I think the first time, I needed to do that in general in my life — whether it was putting it out, or just making it. It just needed to happen because whatever was going on with me needed to be put into song form. It’s how I deal with things. I wouldn’t have put out this next batch of songs as a first album. I needed to ease into it. The first time was like: It needs to sound exactly like this, and it’s exactly these stories. This second batch of songs, “Shakes” included, is a bit more up for interpretation, which I really like because I’ve been leaning more towards artists that have songs and lyrics you can make your own story to. Obviously there’s moments that are very personal to me, and there’s stories that are mine, but I write them over different periods of time.

You’ve always seemed to be deeply protective of your relationship, keeping those really meaningful moments as insular as possible. What has your experience been navigating that public and private life balance?
Me and Sierra are very, very private. Songs and the music I make are windows into moments in my life. If you’re looking to understand more of me, that’s definitely the way to do it. Because the band started so young and it was all very public, naturally now I’m such a homebody and such an introvert. Getting older, I understand more about myself and what makes me happy. I love the fact that the band and myself can put out music and people will listen to it. That’s such a blessing and a gift — playing big shows, and we can talk to you at Rolling Stone. I’m so thankful for that.

But I think I’ve just gotten better at setting boundaries for myself. I’m such an emotional person that anything anyone says, I really take to heart. So separating myself from that a little bit is super important. And Sierra is the same; it’s a big influence from her. We have our own little world. There’s moments where you let people learn, but we just protect some of it and keep some of it for ourselves. Some of my favorite artists are like that. It makes me a bit anxious to be sharing everything.

The first proper album you ever made, 5 Seconds of Summer, came out almost 10 years ago. What do you remember about experiencing that process for the first time?
When I think back to it now, it was like there was no overthinking at all. There was a buzz around the band, but we hadn’t put out an album yet. I didn’t really know what that meant, exactly — putting out an album and then going on tour. All these things were very new. It’s crazy that it’s been that long, but it feels — I mean, it feels like 10 years ago. It feels honestly like 20 years ago. I still come back to some of those songs now. We play them live and people are transported to another time. I remember it being so much fun. It’s fun now, but when you’re doing something for the first time, you’re sort of like, “I don’t know what’s going on right now.” It’s a really exciting time. I just remember being really naive and having lots of fun. As lame as that sounds, it was so childlike. There’s no jadedness yet or anything like that.

It’s jarring how fast that jaded feeling comes on and replaces that carefree feeling, especially being in your twenties now.
I started writing this when I was just turning 27. And when you look around, you look at your friends and you’re looking at family or people around you and you’re like, “OK, shit’s getting real now.” People are having kids, people are getting married — or they’re not and they’re stressed about it. Life starts happening whether you’re checking in or not. It’s funny you bring that up because that’s such a big theme across the whole album.

Why was Boy the most succinct title to capture this particular record?
It comes up a few times on a couple of songs. It’s existential, childlike wonder. It has that feeling to it of trying to understand the world around you and why I am the way I am. A lot of it is questioning, why do I feel like this? Why do I interact with the world like this and see it this way? I think there’s a certain point where you have to decide whether you’re going to face life or just stay in the place you are. Boy is a really lovely way to simplify that.

Is this self-interrogation providing you with comprehensive answers, or are you coming out on the other side with even more questions?
I’m always gonna have questions about it. I don’t know if there will ever be an end to it, but it’s certainly getting a bit closer every day, every time I write about it, or as the years go on. The things that I was emotionally chasing after on the first album, I’ve held onto those. And then you have a couple of years of wisdom under your belt to look back and be like, OK, I’ve done this. I’ve emotionally worked through these things. You’re always self-analyzing your life and as a songwriter, unfortunately, that’s just the way my brain works.

You’ve been on two tours with 5SOS in the past two years, but you also played two solo headlining shows in 2023. How did those songs change for you once you were able to play them to an audience for the first time?
Going into making new songs, I think it was really important to play the first album live to see: Do I like this? Can I do this on my own? So much of my … self-worth is a bit harsh, but so much of my character is attached to being in a band for so long. But I think inherently when you do something on your own, even if you’re still in the band, it still is like, “Can I do this?” So it’s just a hurdle to get over mentally.

It was so cool to see people singing the words back. In Covid, I wasn’t going out and doing things, so I was thinking, “Did people even like this?” Having that when you’re playing shows, it felt good. It made me more confident in making more music. I was like, there’s a space for this — for me to make more tunes in this project and expand on it. It made me more excited to see how far it could go in its own little world and its own little bubble of melancholy.

What do you remember thinking right before you walked out?
I was very nervous. It’s so funny because I’ve played with the band so many shows, hundreds of shows. And it gets to a point, especially when you’re on a 100-date tour, where as soon as you get past the first couple shows, you’re not really nervous anymore. It’s still fun, but you’re not anxious or apprehensive or on your toes. You just are doing it. You’re onstage playing it. I’ve been trying to get better at this — because I’m such an inherently anxious person — doing things that are outside of my comfort zone. So that was a big hurdle to be like, “I’m really, really anxious for this, but I know after I do it, I’m gonna be so glad I did that.” As soon as a few songs went by I was like, OK, this is cool.

Instead of existing in silos, it feels more like you’re creating a universe where your own music and some of the sounds and content of the band’s music are in conversation with one another.
Yeah, definitely. We’ve been a band for 12 years, which is so crazy. I was 15 when we started; now I’m 27. I know solo projects can be scary for fans of bands, but for me it’s the way that the band can live on forever. In my eyes, that’s the way I see it. And I encourage everyone else in the band to follow whatever they want to do — if they’re having time off, having a kid, mowing their lawn. Whatever makes you happy. I’m just always writing songs, and at this point in time, I feel like I have so much to express and so much to say. I just feel so lucky to be able to put these songs together and have people want to hear them.

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