Sparky Deathcap’s ‘September’ Took The Long Route To Viral Stardom
Love it or loathe it, TikTok has a habit of breaking outsider talents. The platform’s algorithm feels curiously democratic, allowing some decidedly non-commercial feats to become trending topics. Just look at Sparky Deathcap – known for his lo-fi indie bops, the songwriter has become a familiar soundtrack to millions, with ‘September’ sweeping across the internet.
The catch? Well, it was released a decade ago.
Crafted in the aftermath of a break-up, it’s lyrically savage, matching indie gossip to some beautiful imagery. A song about love, hate, murder, and learning to move on, ‘September’ is an unlikely subject for viral fame – but then, that’s the beautiful thing about these emerging platforms.
A long-time member of Los Campesinos! – who themselves have scored the odd viral moment or two – Sparky Deathcap’s R N Taylor linked up with Clash to explore his unexpected brush with global fame.
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Congratulations on one of the most slow-burn success stories we’ve ever come across!
It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I keep seeing it and thinking, maybe I’m in a coma? Is this something playing out inside my unconscious mind?!
Long story short: ‘September’ went viral… how did you discover that you had an enormous online fanbase?
The track has been out there. I released it in 2009 initially. It was on Bandcamp and sales were… slow. Essentially what happened – I think – is that this Twitch streamer called WilburSoot became a huge fan of the band I’m in, Los Campesinos. He heard my Sparky Deathcap stuff, and adopted ‘September’ as his theme song. It’s his intro music. Admittedly, I don’t fully understand what Twitch actually is! That seemed to introduce it to a new generation. And they took it to TikTok, and started using it as a sound behind videos, and then it seemed to find the right time, and the right place… and it became something different.
It seems to be a really good soundtrack to videos. It’s found its home. It sits in the background of holiday videos and craft videos on Instagram. It’s so surreal to flick through Instagram Reels and found all these different versions. I wonder what I would have made of it all when I was writing it at… 21, 22. I would have been blown away.
Do you remember putting it all together?
I do, actually. I was working at Borders at the time… and I’m now at TK Maxx! (laughs) In my breaks between shifts I’d write the lyrics down. It was a response to my ex-girlfriend… I’d discovered she had moved on, and met someone else, and I was feeling like the biggest loser in the world. My music career wasn’t going very well at that point and I basically wanted to write what Brian Wilson called a pocket symphony. This compressed yet grandiose Baroque statement. I worked on it during the evenings for about two months. I started at the end of summer, and the title came when the cold, darker days of September arrived. I was very proud of it at the time – weirdly – because I felt I had moved on, artistically. I’d pared down the lyrics. I was really into Lorrie Moore, and wanted to write like her. I put it online and the reaction was… indifference, really! So it’s hilarious that this has become the one people really like.
Did it retain this position in your mind?
Well, I was proud of it when I did it. But to be honest, as I got older and became better at recording I realised there were a lot of technical errors in the mix. I was a bit embarrassed by it, to be honest. It’s like being an archaeologist, uncovering your diaries as a 22 year old for the world to see. You’re pouring your heart out, but you’re thinking… maybe I shouldn’t have been that personal!
For a long time I could see there was a little bit of a buzz around it. Not so much what it became – I was blind-sided when it became viral. People would ask about it at Los Campesinos! shows. I’d been planning to remix it but every time I tried to open the original file it seemed like such an intense, Sisyphean task. I kept putting it off. After speaking to Sony I thought: I’d better actually do it now!
This is part of the story: a none-more-independent musician who put a song on Bandcamp a decade ago has wound up signed to the biggest label conglomerate on the planet!
I’m still not 100% convinced this isn’t an elaborate joke.
Like Ant and Dec will jump out?
Definitely! But they’ve invested a lot of time, here, so it’s an elaborate prank on their part.
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TikTok is known for users re-versioning songs, what was it like to hear you work spun out in different ways?
The thing that really blows my mind is all the cover versions people have done of it. There’s loads! It’s inspiring because people have worked out dance routines to it… someone did a harp cover. A dulcimer cover. All the guitar covers were actually way more proficient than I’ve ever been as well. There’s a guitar tutorial, and it’s way more complicated than the way I played it – I just multi-tracked it! It’s awe-inspiring, really, to think you’ve set off this creative chain reaction. This is why you do it, though – to be part of a wider conversation.
So is this Sparky Deathcap’s time to shine? Is there more to come now, finally?
I’m releasing the rest of the original EP. It’s been remastered. I have a new album in the works, that I was trying to wrangle into shape before all this happened. I was going to release it under my own name, but it’ll be insane not to release it as Sparky Deathcap. It’s nice. A lot of it was so long ago that it’s almost a different person. You can have fun with that identity a little bit. There’s some myth-making you can do, that mighty be cringed otherwise.
But yeah, an EP. And then an album. But that won’t be for a few months yet.
Why has ‘September’ connected so deeply, do you think? TikTok is a very honest environment – is there an honesty to the song that connects?
That is true, really, isn’t it? There’s a few factors, I think. One of them particularly is the lo-fi analogue quality. Which feeds into this idea of it being sincere or authentic. It’s quite different to a lot of the music that is normally popular on TikTok. There’s a lot of hiss in the background, for one. Someone said online: it makes me feel nostalgic for something I never experienced. The people connecting to it are maybe about the age I was when I was writing it… it’s a window into this direct spilling of my emotional guts.
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Words: Robin Murray