Olivia Dean is not afraid to disappear. “Did you ever see I May Destroy You? When Michaela Coel said that she had needed to disappear in order to make the show, that really stuck with me. Because—thank god she did.” Dean says.
The singer is speaking to me from her apartment in London on a Monday morning. Dressed simply, she is a vision of curls cascading down her shoulders, smooth skin, deep brown almond eyes and a blinding smile. She speaks with natural rhythm, nearly hypnotic with her beautiful deep voice. And yet, despite the superstar qualities bursting out of her, she embodies the candour and comfort of a friend.
“What she said made me feel okay with not constantly being in people’s faces. At the start of my career, I used to worry about whether I was posting enough on social media. But now, I like the idea of stepping back and doing your own thing for a little while, especially while you create the next thing for your audience to enjoy.”
Dean’s wisdom shows in her discography. It is her ability to retreat and self-excavate that allows her to create music that penetrates the heart so fully, even at 25 years old. Tender lyrics that read like poetry capture emotions buried deep; pop-soul melodies infuse beloved retro genres with a glossy, contemporary sound. Dean’s creamy, jazz-tinged voice is the delicious cherry on top.
We are discussing ‘Time’, Dean’s latest record and her first time releasing music in a year. Upon first listen, the track hits like a surprise.
Dean agrees happily with that diagnosis. “I’m not interested in staying in the box of what I’ve already done. When I first wrote ‘Time’, I was quite scared of it. But I knew that fear meant I had to follow it because it reflected an emotion I hadn’t explored before. It’s a very angry song, I think,” she says thoughtfully.
That’s one way to describe it, given the soft rock inflections that punctuate Dean’s honeyed vocals a minute in. Washy cymbals give way to more intense lyricism than the heartsick confessions or self-love anthems Dean has become known for. Here, she sings of the divisive pressures of being an ambitious woman—especially in a society determined to make us choose.
“And I’m tired. I don’t know what you want me to do. If I could then I would, but I can’t split in two,” she sings in mournful protest. It’s a familiar sentiment—one that reflects the double shift women are often expected to pull to balance their personal lives and careers.
“It’s up to me to spend my time; I gave you yours so give me mine,” Dean croons in the chorus. My mind instantly goes to the women around me who have sacrificed their careers, health and any moment of leisure to do years of unpaid and unseen domestic labour which nurtured their families and communities. The cost? Only their personhood, of course.
“Performing is the closest I get to feeling like I’m standing in my purpose on this Earth”
As a passionate feminist, Dean knows exactly what I’m alluding to. She brings up Alva Gotby’s They Call It Love: The Politics of Emotional Life, a book she has been reading recently. “It talks about how women often do so much work to create a good vibe and constantly show compassion to make people feel better. It is labour, it is tiring and it is unrecognised.”
She continues breathlessly, like she’s been waiting for our conversation to take this turn: “Women are amazing and we don’t get enough credit. The main motivation behind my music is to lift women up.”
It comes as no surprise that Dean feels so strongly about womanhood, given the lineage of strong women who have raised her. Her maternal grandmother, who moved to the UK from Guyana as part of the Windrush generation, was a key figure in Dean’s childhood.
“We’ve always been close and share a very special bond,” Dean says affectionately. “We used to share a bedroom when I was younger. She’d pick me up from school while my parents were working. At night, we’d be side by side in our two single beds. We’d talk for ages and do her Bible words.”
It was her grandmother to whom Dean dedicated Messy, her critically acclaimed, Mercury Prize-nominated debut album. ‘Carmen’, the 12th track and my favourite from the album, starts with the sound of the matriarch’s voice. “You found a door and held it open… You transplanted a family tree/And a part of it grew into me,” Dean sings tenderly, paying tribute to her grandmother’s sacrifice in moving to a foreign land to start a new life for her family.
I tell Dean that my first listen of ‘Carmen’ brought me to tears, reminding me of my own grandmother whom I now lived far away from. She visibly glows at that, confessing that the song had been a highlight of her career to date. “At the age of 18, my grandmother made the massive decision to disrupt the course of her life. She did it not just for herself but for her children and her children’s children. I think people like that should be celebrated, you know?”
Dean can hardly think back to a time when music wasn’t the love of her life. “Even as a child, I remember being fascinated by this other language we had created, which transcends language and culture, but is so emotional and communicative. I wanted to figure out what it was about a song that made people cry or last 50 years.”
She grew up in a household immersed in music thanks to her father’s massive record collection and her parents’ shared love for a wide range of genres. “Music was always around and I could see the way that it made my parents feel. I remember being in my auntie’s kitchen and seeing her and my mum with a glass of wine, jamming to Jill Scott.”
“I’m not interested in staying in the box of what I’ve already done”
Her mother, whom Dean talks about with great love and reverence, has been another strong influence in her life. When Dean first expressed a desire to make music her career, her mother—in signature immigrant-parent fashion—agreed to support her, but only if she was willing to dedicate herself fully to the pursuit.
“My mum has always believed that if you truly want something, you have to put in the work to get there. She would take me to singing lessons and really set me up to be the intentional person I am today.” Dean had known that she wanted to attend the prestigious The BRIT School long before she got in and credits her upbringing for the fire she has in her today.
“You want to make your family proud and you want to show them that the time they invested in you was worth it. So yeah, it’s something deep in my belly. I just cannot stop. I’m relentless,” she laughs.
Having completed her first headline tour in Europe and the UK with no sign of slowing down, she gushes about the joy of performing. “I’m very much someone who writes music to get it out on the road. I love the atmosphere we have cultivated of singing together with the audience. It’s probably my favourite part of the job.”
Dean’s considerable stage presence leads a fantastic seven-piece band that is a rare treat in today’s concert climate. The calibre of live music she puts out—from her rave-reviewed 2024 Coachella sets to the nightly tour performances that move from city to city—shows that she was born for the stage.
“Performing feels spiritual to me. I’m not a religious person, but I would say it’s the time when I get closest to feeling like I’m standing in my purpose on this Earth. Like when you just know that you’re exactly in the place you’re meant to be.”
In August, Dean will be performing in Tokyo and Osaka for the Summer Sonic Festival, something she is palpably excited for. “It’s going to be my first time in Asia and I can’t wait to spend time in Japan seeing the sights, eating the food and meeting people. And of course, buying all the clothes,” she laughs.
On a more pensive note, she reflects on meeting fans from around the world—a feeling she describes as “incomprehensible”. “I don’t like to think about the word ‘fan’ too much because I don’t see it like that. I find it to be a transactional word. I’m appreciative, but I never want people to feel that we’re not equal in that sense.”
Dean’s charisma onstage is enhanced, at least in part, by her fantastic sense of style and costuming. A Chanel ambassador, the singer is no stranger to dressing up and exuding power through her wardrobe.Was this always the case?
“Let me tell you, growing up, I had absolutely no swag—none!” she laughs. “I was wearing what everybody was wearing. But music changed that for me. Fashion is now so interlinked with my artistry. I love putting on a fabulous dress and a little heel when I go on stage. It’s been important for me to lean into more glamorous styling because I want people to feel glamorous when they come to the show. Does that make sense?”
Of course it does, I say. After all, as a woman, doesn’t seeing another woman truly feeling herself fill you up with confidence in turn? “That’s exactly it,” Dean exclaims brightly. “I just want the girls in the audience to feel good, you know?”
Editor-in-chief Desmond Lim
Photography Petros
Styling Konca Aykan
Hair Sophie Jane Anderson/Future Rep
Make-up Celia Burton
Manicure Imarni/A-Frame
Digital operator Henry Jackson
Lighting assistant Jack Gray
Stylist’s assistants Samela Gjozi and Izzie Jones
Make-up artist’s assistant Peggy Nesbitt
Executive producer Joanna Smirnova/Hen House
Producer Madi Swain/Hen House
Pre-order your copy of the July/August ‘Cravings’ of Vogue Singapore issue online or pick it up on newsstands from 15 July 2024.
