When Claire Hamill was 17, she was plucked from convent school in Teesside and sent to the legendary Basing Street Studios. That was 1971. Island Records released her debut album One House Left Standing that year, a record that has aged far better than the industry that produced it. Fifty-five years later, Hamill is taking the Claire Hamill Band on tour through 2026, celebrating not just that debut but a career that has threaded through folk, progressive rock and new age. Her latest album Troubadour, finds her with a rockier edge and no apparent interest in nostalgia for its own sake. Jason Barnard spoke to Claire about why her best song is always the one where the ink is barely dry.
You’re taking the Claire Hamill Band on the road through 2026, playing everywhere from the Printers Playhouse in Eastbourne, to The CAT Club Pontefact and the Camden Club in London. What does playing live still give you that nothing else can?
I grew up singing with my family, and it was incredibly enjoyable. We all got together at family parties, and everybody had their favourite song. We would all sing for each other and sing in harmony, and it was just so joyous.
When I started writing songs, it was always about performing them. It was never about just singing them to myself in my room. A song has to have a life. If it doesn’t have a life and is listened to by other people, then I can’t really see the life in it or the point of it. Well, there is a point if you’re going to be creative, but for me, performing was always so enervating. It made me feel alive, and always… and still does.
The 2026 tour also marks 55 years since your debut. When you hear One House Left Standing now, do you recognise the girl singing on it?
Yes, I still very much recognize the girl I was all those years ago. I remember how exciting it was to be taken to London and how amazing my voice sounded in the studio coming back to me through the speakers. Huge. And the wonderful contribution of the musicians that I was lucky enough to work with. I’m very nostalgic for my past, for my youth. The album and the songs on the album are still extremely close to my heart.
You were 17 when you signed to Island and suddenly found yourself in Basing Street Studios among musicians you had grown up admiring. What did that do to your sense of who you were, as a young woman from Teesside, dropped into that world?
To be taken out of my milieu, to be taken out of school… It’s hard to explain the feelings of a young girl from a poor background being snatched out of her little village, plonked on a plane and flown to London to be surrounded by, as you say, the musicians I admired. It was an incredible experience, and so unlikely. There was nothing really to refer to. There were hardly any girls at that time singing and writing songs. So I was lonely in one sense, but absolutely amazed. It was like a fairytale.
You have described your early voice as stylised and dramatic. Was that instinctive, or were you consciously shaping an identity that would stand up in a male dominated scene?
I think there was certainly some kind of crafting going on, but I wasn’t consciously aware of it. I just realized that I couldn’t sing in an American-sounding voice. It just wasn’t right for me. I didn’t think that the folk-sounding voice, à la Sandy Denny, was right for me either. I’d just had my own voice and sang with it. Yes, I listen to it now and find it a bit stylized, but I also find it extremely charming and distinctive.
Stage Door Johnnies arrived when your career might have gone either way. What did working with Ray Davies teach you about storytelling and about the business you were navigating?
Ray was a magical person to be around. His aura was huge and fantastic, and I was incredibly in awe of him. I’d already had a taste of what the music business was like by the time I worked with Ray because I think I was already on my third album. I’d already had my heart broken by cynical music journalists, and a few other unsavory events in my life. But it’s all part of your life. It’s all part of your experience of being a woman in what was a very male-dominated business at the time. But then the world was dominated by men, and still is. We women were really fighting in the early ’70s for every kind of acceptance and equality, and I don’t think young women today have any idea of what we really went through.
You produced Abracadabra at 21. That takes nerve. How was that process – was it a challenging experience?
I had just returned from touring America with the first official band I’d ever had. This was different from the band I put together for a performance at the Queen Elizabeth Hall when I was 18. This was a touring band, and that experience really opened my eyes to what other musicians were playing. Before this, I hadn’t paid much attention to them. I was solely focused on playing the guitar, singing, and doing my part.
Suddenly, I could hear all the members of the band. This inspired me to think that I might be able to produce my own album. I was quite the diva, as you can imagine. I was way too young to produce an album, but I believed I could do it. I think I might be the youngest woman ever to have attempted it!
I made some mistakes, especially on a track called ‘Rory.’ I wanted to bring the electric guitar in halfway through the song. My sound engineer/producer told me, “That’s a ridiculous idea, Claire.” Time has proven him right, but I can’t believe they let me do it. I must have had quite a bit of influence back then, though I don’t quite remember it. I was being very cheeky, and I got away with it.
You move easily between a range of musical styles. Did you ever feel pressure to choose one lane, or was refusal part of your identity from the outset?
Not being embedded in any one genre has certainly impacted me financially. But in another sense, it’s afforded me an enormous amount of creative freedom. I used to feel sorry for artists that had to play their hits over and over again, without being able to get out of a musical rut that their fans had somehow forced them into. I’ve been lucky in that I’ve indulged myself in exploring all of the musical genres I’ve been interested in, and there’s still some more to explore. I look forward to doing that in the future.
Voices, with its wordless vocals, reached an audience your earlier records had not. Did it feel ironic that removing lyrics made you more widely heard?
I was completely blown away by the success of Voices. It was a project I was asked to do by my then-husband, Nick Austin, because he wanted to introduce new age music to the British audience. He asked me to go into the studio and use my voice to create a soundscape. I decided to use the seasons for inspiration, and it was the easiest album I’d ever made in my life because I didn’t have to confer with any musicians. I didn’t have to explain to them what I was hearing or looking for or any direction.
The whole project took six weeks from start to finish, which was a surprise because usually the albums I’d worked on had taken longer than that and also been a bit more expensive. It was hugely experimental, and I remember recording the first track and the sound engineer turning round and saying, “It’s absolutely amazing.” I couldn’t believe him. I said, “What? You’re crazy! It’s got no lyrics!”
Yeah, I was dumbfounded by its success. But I’m very proud of it. Someone told me Grimes used two tracks on her first mix tape ! How fantastic!
The rediscovery of ‘You Take My Breath Away’ through Eva Cassidy brought your work to a new generation. How does it feel when someone else’s interpretation reshapes the afterlife of your own song?
I had been living quietly in Hastings for some time, just bringing up my children, experimenting with dance music in a small way, and working with a local jazz guitarist called Phil Hudson. Somebody at one of our gigs mentioned that I should listen to ‘Fields of Gold’ by Eva Cassidy, and when I looked her up online, I discovered that she’d recorded a song called ‘You Take My Breath Away.’
I wondered if it was my song. I contacted her record label and went over to listen to the track when they’d eventually found it in her catalog, which belonged to her family. It was a moment I’ll never forget. She’s one of the only people that’s ever recorded any of my songs, but what a singer. I was so proud to be in her repertoire of beautiful songs. It was a moment I’ll never forget, and I’ll always be eternally grateful to her.
You’ve released albums steadily since 2012. What changed to make you feel you could be this prolific again?
I think the reason that I became more prolific from 2012 was because I’d sold my house, and I had a bit of money that I could invest in making some recordings, which I hadn’t had. Even though I had my own studio with my ex-partner, Andrew Warren, we didn’t really release anything at the time we were together apart from one album.
After we broke up, I released an album we’d worked on , one that was partly funded by a friend and just pulled in favours from the deep mine of talent here in Hastings and the Northeast to make a few more .That was also coupled with the fact that my children were grown up, because while they were small, they were the focus of my attention rather than my career, and I have absolutely no regrets about that.
But it’s very comforting to know that my songwriting is still there, and I still somehow get inspiration. Life is a beautiful thing, and it affords us great ideas, and the human psyche is a great reservoir for expression.
Troubadour came out last year – an album with a rockier edge. When Sonny Flint and the band started experimenting in the studio, how did you know which songs belonged together and which version of yourself you wanted this album to be?
The direction of Troubadour was definitely inspired by working with Sonny. I’ve spent my whole life around rock musicians, so making an album with a more rocky edge to it was no problem at all. But the choice of material had to be something that would make the best use of his talent too. It’s no use giving a rock drummer an airy-fairy album with lots of sweet stuff on it.
Having said that, I am very much a romantic writer, and the band have so far really accommodated that side of my writing. I feel that I’m very much blooming within the musical environment I now find myself in.
As to “Will the real Claire Hamill please stand up”—hahaha! To be honest, I just let the songs come out of me and they find their own style. They seem to beg to be treated a certain way. My eldest daughter would dearly love me to make a really empty acoustic album and I think that’s a great idea, but not right now.
You have written about romantic obsession, grief, motherhood and spiritual searching. Is there a theme you avoided for years that now feels ready to be faced?
That’s a very deep and interesting question. I don’t think I really avoid anything consciously, but maybe there are some things that I’ve avoided. Perhaps if we meet up, you can tell me what they are. Perhaps if we meet one day, you can tell me what you think they might be.
I love to write humourous songs that I only play live and I also like to write anti war songs too but I would rather uplift people I think. There’s so much horror in the world, it’s not that I want to ignore it but I’d rather make people think about love. I think that’s what I was always meant to do. After all, I was just a young lass when the Beatles sang ‘All you need is love’ and I think that has been the enduring mantra of my life.
After over five decades of writing, which of your own songs do you still need to sing live and why?
I always have to sing ‘You Take My Breath Away’ because it was a song that changed my life. It made me feel like I was a successful songwriter for the first time, and it made me some money, which was wonderful.
As to the other songs, there’s so many to choose from over the years. I suppose my favourite song is ‘Trees,’ a song about solitude. But I can’t really do that with my band because it is quite dreamy. But we still play an awful lot of my back catalog—’Speed Breaker’, ‘First Night in New York,’ ‘Forbidden Fruit.’ But ask any songwriter and they’ll always tell you the same thing. Their best song is always the one on which the ink is barely dry….and long may that last…..
Further information
Claire Hamill Band – 2026 TOUR Live Dates
Tour dates include
- Friday, 27th February – Printers Playhouse Arts CIC, EASTBOURNE
- Thursday, 5th March – Hot Box, CHELMSFORD
- Thursday, 23rd April – The Brunswick, Cellar Bar, BRIGHTON
- Saturday, 25th April – The Piper, ST LEONARDS
- Saturday, 2nd May, Flying Circus, NEWARK
- Sunday, 3rd May – Toft House, MIDDLESBROUGH
- Monday, 4th May – Matinee Show, Toft House MIDDLESBROUGH
- Wednesday, 6th May – Cluny 2, NEWCASTLE UPON TYNE
- Sunday, 31st May, Matinee Show, Camden Club, LONDON
- Friday, 4th September – Nene Valley Rock Festival (Kingfisher Stage)
- Saturday, 5th September – Wrecking Ball Arts Club, HULL
- Sunday, 6th September – The Cat Club, Robin Hood Inn, PONTEFRACT
- Friday, 16th October, Backstage, KINROSS
- Saturday, 17th October, Carradale Village Hall, CAMPBELTOWN
