The slim clutch of Trust Fund tracks that have been sporadically revealed for public consumption – the beautifully fragile Don’t Let Them Begin EP, the stuttering sonic experimentation of various compilations – have brought me more comfort than anyone could possibly comprehend. Despite feeling organic, there is solace in every song’s brutal familiarity; as Ellis Jones admits, “As whole songs, they’re not autobiographical, but if you break it down to individual lines, it’s inspired by things that have happened to me”.
Having occupied “time to fill” at a King Of Cats show, Ellis’ melancholic strain of bedroom pop began to snowball, fresh material stitched together by accomplished songwriting and understated ambition, culminating with a split 12” alongside pals Joanna Gruesome (“We don’t all hang out in a house and one of us will play a riff”, he assures me, laughing, contrary to popular belief) and a debut album lurking in the shadows, with its sequel and fully-fledged tour following closely behind. Incessantly grounded, he remains unflustered by the closer scrutiny. “It’s nice to get good reviews, but it’s rare that I feel like someone has really got it. I finished the album and sent it to close friends and realised that’s the most exciting bit. The fun’s over now. It’s great that people listen to it and like it, but, in terms of what apparently prestigious places have to say, I don’t think that means much to me”.
Speaking warmly of his DIY roots, Bristol, the ridiculousness of receiving an 8/10 in the NME despite every record garnering high praise, if there’s any justice 2015 should finally see Ellis Jones considered as vital by the masses as I view him. Perhaps I’ll simply wait here patiently until Trust Fund has taken over the whole damn world. Yes, that sounds rather pleasant, and a planet I, for once, wouldn’t mind inhabiting.
The rest of our sounds of 2015: