In Conversation with Buzzkill Joy

Words by Kasia Krawczyk

For Buzzkill Joy, nothing is off limits. Mental health, politics, identity, social issues — even the artist’s own dramatic political transformation — all find their way into his music. The result is deliberately chaotic: hard-hitting lyrics, huge hooks, genre-hopping melodies and a healthy dose of humour.

“I get really bored of music,” he admits. “Not because it’s bad, but because it takes a lot to impress my inner little conductor.”

That restless attention span has become part of Buzzkill Joy’s creative philosophy. He wants songs to grab you immediately, but he also wants them to have something to say. “One good way of doing that is great hooks and melodies, mixing up genres and having really hard-hitting lyrics.”

He has little patience for what he sees as increasingly disposable songwriting, either. “I feel like most lyrics are just AI slop — and there’s lyric slop as well. There’s so much of it in music.”

It’s a typically blunt Buzzkill Joy observation, but beneath the profanity is a serious point: the music needs to mean something.

That seriousness, however, is rarely allowed to exist without a joke. Humour runs through Buzzkill Joy’s music and personality, acting as a pressure valve for the heavier subjects he tackles.

“Brits are quite good at that,” he says. “Maybe too much. Being self-detrimental and overly critical and stuff like that.”

But there’s a line between using humour to make difficult subjects easier to digest and simply laughing everything off. “You shouldn’t be too far the other direction, laughing off serious stuff too much,” he says. “But being a bit light-hearted, treading through life with a bit of a springy step, having a laugh about shit sometimes — it’s a way to deal with everything.”

“It’s like sugar for the pill,” he adds. “If you’re too serious, you’re just fucking depressing to listen to.”

There’s another reason for the humour, too: Buzzkill Joy sees music as entertainment. “It’s a show at the end of the day.”

From Parliament to punk

Perhaps the most unexpected part of Buzzkill Joy’s story is where he came from.

Before music, he studied politics at UCL and worked in Parliament. More specifically, he spent years identifying as a Conservative — something that now feels almost surreal given the political perspective running through his music.

“I was going to be like a Tory politician. Can you believe it?” he laughs.

The turning point came around 2020. At roughly the same time, Buzzkill Joy was learning guitar, learning to sing, falling out of love with politics and discovering one of his biggest inspirations: Yungblud.

“I used to be a conservative, like really all the way,” he says. “And then I discovered him. It snapped me out of that. It was like a brain transplant, like a lobotomy.”

The connection went deeper than simply admiring another artist. Buzzkill Joy grew up in Scunthorpe, while Yungblud is from Doncaster — just around 25 miles apart.

“I really saw myself in him,” he explains. “He was really bad at school when he was a kid, so was I. He moved to London to find what he thought he liked. His was acting; mine was politics. There were loads of overlaps.”

That familiarity made him curious. “I was like, ‘I like this guy; I’m going to see what he’s about.’ And it just changed my life.”

But Yungblud wasn’t solely responsible for the change. Buzzkill Joy is keen to point out that his own critical thinking played a role, too.

“Some of it was just my own thinking and critical thinking,” he says. “I studied politics at uni. I was big on politics.”

The difference is that he eventually found a way to channel that political interest into music.

Buzzkill Joy isn’t interested in protest music that simply tells listeners what to think.

“I feel like a lot of punk or protest music is very one-dimensional,” he says. First of all, I don’t like Reform. But you’re not changing anyone’s mind by just saying it.

For him, the message needs to go further.

“There needs to be a message that follows. Something that’s not as 1D. Go for 3D or 4D.”

Rather than turning his songs into political lectures, Buzzkill Joy wants to take his experiences and interests and turn them into something people actually want to listen to.

“I try to put my politics, interest and experience into the music, so it’s interesting and it’s got a message.”

That idea of questioning your own assumptions is central to how he sees personal growth, too.

If he could sit down with his younger self — the one working in politics and convinced he was on the right path — the first thing he’d address wouldn’t even be politics.

“First of all, get some better drip,” he laughs. “My fashion was horrific. It was so bad. I dressed like every dad in his 50s you ever met. Just jeans and a polo shirt.”

Then comes the more serious advice.

“I would genuinely say: you’re not thinking freely, even though you think you are.”

Buzzkill Joy believes political identity can sometimes become a substitute for independent thought. “If you’re like, ‘I am with this party,’ rather than ‘I think on this point of the spectrum,’ you’re devolving your thought to whatever the policy of the government is.”

Looking back, he says he believed he was thinking independently while actually allowing his political identity to do the thinking for him.

“So I thought when I was a Tory, I was thinking freely, but I wasn’t. It was basically, ‘What can you get away with as a Tory?’ Whatever the Tories thought, I therefore thought.”

The realisation was transformative.

“Yes,” he says when asked if it felt like an enlightenment. “I had the enlightenment. It was like a religious, spiritual thing.”

And that change didn’t happen overnight. Although 2020 became the turning point, it took several years before Buzzkill Joy was ready to release music.

“I learnt guitar. At the same time, I fell out of love with politics. I learnt to sing and discovered Yungblud. Four or five things all just lined up.”

He was still studying politics and working in the field, so music remained on the sidelines for a while.

“It took me a while to actually put out music because I was still studying politics and working in it.”

Now, though, the transition feels complete.

“I haven’t started doing shows since last year; I’m pretty sure it is,” he says. “It took me a while because I’ve been a Tory my whole life, since I was like 13. Scunthorpe, my hometown, was very right.”

Then, with a grin: “It’s about time.”

Wembley — and a little unfinished business

So where does Buzzkill Joy see all of this going?

“Wembley Stadium.”

He immediately laughs at himself.

“Alive would be a good start because I need to go on a diet for a start.”

But beneath the joke is a genuine ambition to build a life around music.

“I’d love to be a touring musician. That’d be fucking crazy. And to play festivals regularly, that’d be a dream.”

One festival in particular sits at the top of the list: Isle of Wight.

His connection to the festival goes back to his earliest days as a performer. His second-ever gig was connected to the Isle of Wight New Blood competition — an opportunity that could have put him on the festival bill.

“And Green Day were headlining Isle of Wight Festival. They’re my idols. They were my first — they were the only band I listened to from age 10 to 14.”

He didn’t win.

“So Isle of Wight, I’ve got beef with it,” he laughs. “Because I could have played that and I lost, so I didn’t get into it.”

There’s unfinished business, then.

“Next time you’re going to win,” I tell him.

“Yeah.”

But the ambition isn’t only about the stages. For Buzzkill Joy, community is just as important as the music itself.

That’s another reason Yungblud’s influence has been so significant. “I love Yungblud as well because of the community.”

He talks about the fan communities that have grown around the music and points towards the people who have come along to support him — including fans travelling internationally.

“It’s a proper community.”

Ultimately, that sense of belonging sits at the heart of Buzzkill Joy’s message.

“You’re never too late to change. Never too late to be a better version of yourself.”

It doesn’t matter where you currently sit politically, socially or personally, he argues. What matters is being willing to question yourself.

“Even if someone’s left-wing because their parents were or whatever, I’d still say challenge yourself to make sure you actually believe that.”

He pauses, then catches himself.

“I just think my centre-left views are correct. I don’t know.”

It’s the perfect Buzzkill Joy ending: serious, self-aware, slightly chaotic and immediately willing to question its own certainty.

“Just challenge yourself. Try and remove bias from your thinking as much as you can.”

Then he laughs.

“This got really, like, lecture-y, didn’t it? It got very academic-y.”

And just like that, the politics professor disappears, and Buzzkill Joy is back.