It takes a lot for us here at FHM to admit we were wrong, but in the case of the new album from 20-year-old Callum Burrows, better known as singer/songwriter Saint Raymond, we most certainly were.
We assumed his debut Young Blood (out now) would be filled with plinky-plonky ditties well suited to montages in Made In Chelsea. Instead, we got a massive contender for album of the summer, stacked with perfect pool party indie stonkers and a frankly beautiful piano track that got us right there, y’know? We caught up with the Nottingham lad by way of an apology…
Jake Bugg, Sleaford Mods, and now you: Nottingham’s doing all right for musicians. Where’s best for a post-gig rockstar pint?
Rescue Rooms and Bodega, which double up as gig venues, are wicked. There’s a cool place called Das Kino, which has table tennis in the back, and I always end up at Filthy’s, which is a great bar to go to at the end of the night. There’s a good little nightlife in Nottingham.
It’s not all about the UK’s only branch of Hooters, then?
Ha ha. It’s always like, “Nottingham? You’ve got Hooters!” Yeah, we do have other things too. I go there for chicken wings, though.
We hear your mum’s a bit of a Twitter celeb.
She loves it! She’s more active on it than me. When I last played in London it was her birthday, and the fans brought her actual gifts – it was crazy.
Talking of crazy, a fan got your name tattooed on them recently.
That stuff blows my mind. I was at the after-show party and the girl showed me – it was surreal. I’ve always seen people with band tattoos and stuff, but never thought that one day it’d be me. That’s on there for life now. Amazing.
You’re a big wrestling fan. For those who last saw it in the days of Stone Cold Steve Austin, what’s happening with it?
There’s so many new people in it now, but they’re still hanging on to the old school. You still have Triple H, and The Rock pops up whenever he has a film to plug. It’s my guilty pleasure. People say it’s fake, but it’s my Coronation Street, you know what I mean?
Did you turn your living room into a wrestling ring like the rest of us, growing up?
I’ve got two older brothers and an older sister, and I used to be like, “No one’s allowed in the living room until I’m finished.” I had the belts, a WWE microphone, everything, and I’d wrestle this little PG Tips monkey. It used to get serious in there. I’d really go for it.