Care for you. |H.S.|

38

- Sydney GQ Magazine -

Louis Tomlinson
about his long way back to success

Written by Cathie Pierce

We meet in a small Loft in the outer skirts of Sydney, Tomlinson is in the middle of his first solo world tour. Later tonight he will be standing on stage in Melbourne, he tells me casually over a cup of hot tea. He seems open, more self-aware and modest then you would expect from someone with his past of success.

The cover shooting takes place before I get the chance to talk more then a few monotonous sentences with him. Following the instructions of the photographer he never misses a chance to send a mischievous smile or a sarcastic comment in the direction of his team. It's his team that keeps him sane on tour, he will later tell me.

Tomlinson's personal tragedies also meant his solo career has had a bit of a rocky start, but as he finally sits down on a bench on the rooftop beside me he seems content. He lightly chuckles telling me he missed the sun over the last couple of days. The tour reached his more hectic moments.

It was a rough part getting here, is one of the first things he says while lighting up a cigarette. He is referring to his first attempts as a solo artist. A couple of fairly forgettable collaborations.
"I think, in hindsight, that was me trying to find my place in the industry and making music I thought I had to make, to get on the radio." He fell silent while debating over his next words.
"My only experience is being in a band the size of One Direction. So naturally, as much as you try and stay humble and realistic that's your experience. And that experience is based on something that isn't real life, really. I kind of had a bit of a word with myself and worked out what I want – to be happy and proud of what I'm doing. I love those early singles, but I never really felt proud of them, because it didn't feel feel like the true me."

Kill My Mind is the turning point he refers to. An indie-pop delight, not so huge a departure as to alienate his fanbase, but it sounds like the music he grew up listening to – Oasis and Arctic Monkeys – and his South Yorkshire accent brings more than a hint of Liam Gallagher-style northern vocals.
"I had this epiphany when I was thinking about the music I grew up with."
He further explained. His following solo debut Walls, was worth the wait.

His phone rings, an apologetic smile on his lips he reaches into his pockets. It's Daisy one of his younger siblings, he's taking the call. Patiently listening to her before giving a brotherly advise. He apologises, but family comes first.
"The fans was were we left of?"
We weren't but I led it slide.

He is andemand to not sound as if he is complaining when he speaks about his past struggles with public attention. He never blames the fans for their intensity. Their is a special relationship, he says. "So many people have bullshitted what they feel about their fans, but they're like family to me. I'm sure every artist says this, but I do believe it. We've been through some dark times together and those things I've been through, they carry a weight, emotionally, on the fans as well. And I felt their love and support. I remember really clearly when I lost my mum, that support was mad." It wasn't just the support of his fans that kept him going, he as well still counts on the support 'his boys' keep on giving him.

The death of his beloved mother Johanna back in 2016 was another bump in his long road back to success. Tomlinson remembers thinking his luck would have run out. That having been giving the shot with One Direction, he was now due for some sort of equalising blow.

They were unusually close. Telling me with a light smile on his lips how she was often one step ahead, 'because she had the password to my email'. When his mother died eventually back in December 2016, Tomlinson was only days away from the live gig he'd agreed to do on the X Factor.

He struggles to recall the moment, he last relied on a motherly advise.
"I remember saying to her: 'Mum, how the fuck do you expect me to do this now?' And she didn't swear much, my mum. She'd always tell me off for swearing. And this time she was like: 'You've got to fucking do it, it's as simple as that.' It was football manager, team talk stuff." The footage of Tomlinson's performance that weekend is hard to watch.

What have the experiences of loss he has been through taught him about himself?

He needs a while to find the right words to answer my question. "I keep going back to it, but I don't know if it's a combination of where I grew up and my mum's influence, but I just have this luxury of being able to see the glass half-full no matter what." He is the oldest of his mother's seven children, a position that shaped him more than anything else he says himself.

"There's no time for me to be sat feeling sorry for myself. I've been to rock bottom and I feel like, whatever my career's going to throw in front of me, it's going to be nothing as big or as emotionally heavy as that. So, weirdly, I've turned something that's really dark into something that empowers me, makes me stronger."

After that Tomlinson fells silent. He's watching the horizon for a while before finding his voice again. "I'm not gonna claim this is all for my mum. But it was definitely... It was...my mom always had greater belief in me than I did myself. Sometimes my reservation, or my confidence, might have prevented me from doing something. And I've needed a mum in the past to kick me up the arse and go: 'You're doing it.'"

He is reaching for his pack of cigarettes and his phone that was still laying openly between us. It's his polite way to ask me to wrap this up. He is back on a tight schedule. Thoughts already two appointments ahead in his busy life of a successful pop singer. He is sharing a lightly banter with his stylist as he leaves the building not even five minutes later. The pop world gained an refreshing honest artist. We will here more about him in the future, that I am sure about.