Lead vocalist Ben Barlow talks sunburnt Brits, their upcoming Australian tour and the significance of their self-titled album
Ben Barlow is telling me how he met his wife, and I can’t help but think this story could belong to the opening scene of a Richard Curtis film. One of those moments that’s in equal parts charming, absurd and should probably feature Rachel McAdams acting in it.
“It’s kind of a Romeo and Juliet thing,” he says, with a mischievous grin. “She’s from Chester. I’m from Wrexham. There’s this big rivalry between the two places. But I fell for a Chester girl, and she fell for a Wrexham boy.”
It’s funny, really. The kind of story that doesn’t end in tragedy but rather in the small, stubborn realities of life. The irony of it all isn’t lost on Barlow either. Today, they live on the border between England and Wales—though, of course, they’ve chosen the Welsh side. “England looks down their nose at Wales,” he says with a laugh, “but it’s made us more likeable.”
As if caught in the whimsy of it all, Barlow begins brainstorming how their love story would unfold on the big screen. “We’d need a Hugh Grant type, obviously,” he muses.
“Too old,” I reply, deadpan.
“A Nicholas Hoult?”
“Spot on,” I agree.
Barlow’s eyes light up as he thinks further. “Or what about that Irish guy everyone fancies right now? What’s his name?”
“Paul Mescal.”
“Yeah, him. We’ll get him,” he says, laughing again.
It’s a brief, amusing moment that lingers between us, but the rom com will have to wait. At least until Barlow’s band, Neck Deep, finishes their international tour and makes their way back to Australia.
He casually mentions a magnet on his fridge that often reminds him of Australia. “It says, ‘Australia, it’s a bloody long way!’” It’s an understatement, really. Australia, from where Barlow’s standing, might as well be another world entirely. For most Brits, the journey feels endless, but it’s all worth it—if only for one thing: the Australian pub crawl.
“The last time we were over, before COVID,” Barlow says, leaning back and recalling the madness of that trip. “We were jet-lagged, of course, but by midday, we found ourselves in a bowling alley—completely plastered. Our guitar tech got kicked out for being too drunk, then he wandered off to the beach, got sunburnt, and just sat there.”
There’s a pause, and a slow laugh rises from him. The absurdity of it all is striking, but there’s a deeper truth to the moment. It speaks to that peculiar breed of Brit abroad—the kind who can’t resist the lure of the sun even when the locals wisely seek shade.
“While the locals are inside, hiding from the sun, we’re the ones out there saying, ‘Nah, throw me in the sun,’” he chuckles. “Just a bunch of sunburnt Brits—that’s going to be us.”
The band, consisting of Barlow, his brother Seb, rhythm guitarist Matt West, guitarist Sam Bowden, and drummer Matt Bowles, will soon be playing to crowds across Australia in support of their self-titled fifth studio album, Neck Deep. It’s an album that, like the band themselves, has travelled a winding path to its creation.
“We started in LA,” Barlow says, his voice taking on a reflective edge. “But halfway through, we realised it wasn’t what we wanted. It felt like we were just going through the motions—trying too hard with all these tricks we’d learned. When we were younger, that stuff worked, but this time… it didn’t feel real.”
And then, in a moment of quiet rebellion, the spark: “So, we made it ourselves.”
Returning to the UK, the band scrapped everything they’d done. They started fresh.
“My brother Seb’s a producer, so he took over. We didn’t bring anyone else in. No outside voices. Just us.” His voice rises a little, as if the memory itself carries a sense of pride. “It wasn’t perfect, but it was exactly what we needed.”
Despite the control they seized over the process, Barlow admits that the album isn’t exactly what he envisioned in the beginning. “Had we had a bit more time, maybe it would’ve been more polished. But, you know… the imperfections make it what it is.”
It’s the kind of perspective you gain after years spent in the chaos of creation. As the band’s dynamic shifts, Barlow explains what the collaborative process looks like now. “We’re always looking for that ‘zing.’ The moment when everything just clicks. The stops, the pauses, the way a chorus hangs in the air.” There’s something almost intoxicating in his voice, as though he can taste the next great hook already.
That desire for creative autonomy didn’t stop at the music—it defined the title, too. “It just felt like the most us record we’ve made. We were all like, ‘Yeah, this is the most uninhibited we’ve ever been.’ Plus, every band has a self-titled record, so we thought, why not us?”
Thirteen years into Neck Deep’s journey, Barlow still seems slightly in awe of how far they’ve come. “It still feels like ten,” he says, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. It’s as if, in some strange way, the surprise of it all hasn’t quite worn off. “It started as a side project. We never thought it would turn into anything. Every day, I’m still grateful for this.”
But, of course, there’s always a ‘but.’
“It’s not all roses,” Barlow adds, as the weight of reality sets in. “The stereotypical ‘evil industry dudes’—they’re real. People aren’t always nice. Sometimes you get hit with a bill that derails everything. Or a song doesn’t land the way you hope. But you just have to let it go. It’s part of the deal.”
For Barlow and the rest of Neck Deep, though, the dream has come true. The small-town Welsh kids who only wanted to play music now find themselves on stages all over the world.
“We’re just kids from a little town in Wales who wanted to play music,” he says, almost shyly. “We never let our egos get in the way of that. We’re among the lucky few who get to do this, so I’ll never stop being grateful.”
Neck Deep will be touring Fremantle, Adelaide, Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane from 21 April. Tickets can be purchased here.
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