Our latest Off the Shelf guest is Richard Olson the frontman of The Hanging Stars, and he really does pull out all the stops on this one – it ranks among my favourites to date. One of the things I love most about this series are the unexpected stories and insights that emerge from an object. Olson is no exception, this a fascinating deep-dive, and he shares some great moments: revealing, moving and humourous; but more than anything, it really highlights his intense passion for music.
The Hanging Stars‘ forthcoming album Just A Day drops next week on June 19th via Loose Music, a follow-up to last year’s Dreams with Bonnie Dobson whom we interviewed here.
The core of Just A Day was recorded in a single week last February at Clashnarrow Studios in Helmsdale, the Scottish Highlands base run by Edwyn Collins — a place the band describe as “a sort of mixture between Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory and the BBC’s Repair Shop.” They reached for Collins’ vintage gear too, among it the Gretsch Blackhawk from his Orange Juice days and the fuzz box heard on ‘A Girl Like You’. Gerard Love helped pare the songs back to their essence, while Sean Read handled production and engineering, finishing overdubs and the mix at his own Famous Times Studios. A line-up change at the end of 2024 seems to have galvanised them — Olson on vocals and guitar, Patrick Ralla on guitar, Paulie Cobra on drums and Paul Milne on bass — and The Coral’s Nick Power guests on b-side ‘Maybe Maybe’. Lead single ‘Let It Slide’ steps further towards jangle pop, built on the four-part harmonies and twelve-string shimmer that run through everything the band do, with The Byrds, Big Star and Teenage Fanclub never far away.
Off the Shelf with Richard Olson
Utopist? Javisst! Poster
This poster has been a steady companion for over 25 years. It was given to me by friend Martin Theander, who managed Swedish indie label Vibraphone, closely connected to Tambourine Studios in Malmö, where I lived at the time.
It was designed by Nille Svensson of design collective Formfront, who, I believe were a loose bunch of artists and designers from the north of Sweden. Some of them may have been in the cinematic pop band Komeda, too, I think.
Utopist? Of course! Is what it translates as. But it rhymes. I don’t know about you, but it’s pretty hard to argue with that sentiment. In spite of the nasty winds blowing across the globe, it’s one I’d like to believe in. Maybe more now than ever. The childlike and colourful design is ingrained in my mind after all these years and still puts a smile on my face to this day. Maybe it’s collectable now, I don’t know. It’s in a right state from endless blue tacking, but I love it dearly.
Folk Songs of North America by Alan Lomax
I didn’t get to know my father until very late in life. He’d had a rather successful career in music as part of Kingston Trio wannabe band The Hootenanny Singers (together with Björn Ulvaeus of ABBA) in the 60s.
When we finally started to get to know each other, in my mid-twenties, we found mutual ground in folk music of all kinds. Drinking gin and tonics and chatting music was kind of where we found ourselves a safe and neutral space after a rocky start to our relationship, and after a few G&T’s one Christmas, the conversation touched on this book. I think he was surprised I was aware of it.
I’d heard of it as a mystical holy grail among texts about folk music, and, being a Shirley Collins fan, I was very much aware of the story behind it and its legacy. Well, lo and behold, my father walks up to the bookshelf and pulls a copy out. Signs it for me and gives it to me. I’m forever grateful for that. If you flick through the book, I’m sure you’ll find a few bits and bobs I may have borrowed. Or kept the tradition alive with, maybe.
Martin 12-string guitar
I have, perhaps, not made that many wise decisions in life, but this is at least one of the better ones I’ve made.
I’m not a guitar guy. I’ve always been more of a “it sounds good, and it looks cool, so let’s just play” kinda guy. This also means I’ve never really been a guitar shop type of guy either. Partly because they can be pretty intimidating places, and mainly because I can’t afford it. Having said that, Martin guitars do hold a special place in my heart. Such simple, classic and – above all – good-sounding instruments.
I found myself on the last day of a trip to Toronto many years ago and did something I never really do: walk into a guitar shop. This guitar caught my eye straight away, and I was amazed by the short neck and the lightness of the instrument. The guitar guy behind the counter in the guitar shop informed me it was made between 1971-73 or something, which proved to be true, and while the price was pretty steep for me, it wasn’t insane. Also, the exchange rate was more than favourable at the time.
I got pretty excited and started phoning my more guitar-knowledgeable mates in London (in the middle of the night for them) to see if this was real, and should I? I should, apparently. I just went for it. Something which I rarely do. And I have not regretted it for a second since. It’s been featured in many Hanging Stars songs and shows, but I feel it’s kind of a home and studio guitar now.
Fred Neil and Karen Dalton Portrait
I don’t know why Fred Neil hit me so hard. I love everything about the Greenwich Village folk scene, and being naturally curious, you soon find out what an influential figure he was in that world. A godfather of sorts. Few people in that scene weren’t touched by Fred’s influence.
When I first got to know Bonnie Dobson (insert influential folksinger of said scene and writer of Morning Dew) who we consequently made an album with last year, I bugged her about whether she’d hung out with him. I got two answers. One: She didn’t see him much as she didn’t really hang out in the drug scene. And two: She told me I was drunk and a bit over-enthusiastic. Enthusiastic is an understatement. At one point, I was borderline obsessed. When David Crosby was on Twitter and held his little Q&A sessions, I endlessly bugged him about Fred Neil. Crosby ended up blocking me. Oh well.
Fred’s music gives me so much strength. Listening to his deep and soulful croon on The Water is Wide never ceases to give me goosebumps. I think his love of dolphins says a lot about him as a person. Intelligent, gentle, curious and shy. And probably on drugs.
Karen Dalton deserves a whole other story, but I love how they complement each other here. Both so beautifully strange together.
The Byrds – I Feel a Whole Lot Better/All I Really Want to Do 7”
A pinnacle of music; the chiming guitars, the divine melody, the celestial harmonies. Gets me every time. Every. God. Damn. Time. I mean, seriously. To put this on a big PA is pure magic. I’m not really much of a sonic snob, but I think this on a 7” hits every synapse in my brain in all the right ways.
The Byrds are a band I keep coming back to. Sure, some albums are better than others. Notorious Byrds Brothers is a sacrament in my book. But I feel that Roger McGuinn never really got his dues for steering the good ship The Byrds through all those rocky waters while still delivering classics over and over again. Another thing I love about him is that he wasn’t afraid to let the others shine: Gene Clark, Chris Hillman, Gram Parsons, Clarence White (perhaps not Crosby, mind you). I’m not comparing ourselves whatsoever to either Jim McGuinn or The Byrds, but we’ve had some line-up changes and seriously good musicians going through the ranks throughout the years, and we’re still going. So hey, there’s that.
Sharp Mary by Will Carruthers
I first met Will Carruthers at an early Sonic Cathedral club night in the early 00s. I think Nat Cramp (who ran the night and runs the label) had booked him to DJ or play or do something or other. In the early days of Sonic Cathedral, my flat became some sort of crash pad for these soon-to-be reevaluated shoegaze/indie rock stars. Will was my first guest. I was pretty made up as he’d played his Gibson Thunderbird bass guitar on some of my favourite songs ever during his time in Spacemen 3 and Spiritualized. We sat in my bedroom smoking fags and other things, listening to music all night. I remember we bonded over Codine, the Buffy Saint Marie song covered by The Charlatans (the 60s one).
I think it might’ve been Will who gave me my moniker, Swedish Rich. Anyway. We developed a friendship that I’m very grateful for, and, while I never see Will much due to his rambling nature, I admire him greatly. Will belongs in another time and another place. He’s a dreamer and a visionary. A cynic and a romantic. He’s the real deal. I’ve got many tales involving his laid-back genius, but that’ll have to wait. Last time I saw him, he was living in Brixton, and I went to see him for some reason or other. He was in his art phase at the time and gifted me this work. I love it very much. (PS. Buy his book Playing The Bass With Three Left Hands).
Cornershop – Hold on it Hurts Tape
I think Cornershop are by far the coolest band that ever was. As a second-generation immigrant with Asian roots living in Preston in the 80s, and calling your band Cornershop: Ice Cold Cool. I think you’ve already won right there. And Tjinder and Ben’s experimental, but terrific, pop music sensibility that runs through their career is just amazing. Plus, they looked cool as fuck.
The song Readers’ Wives is the song that originally opened my eyes to them. The video is also so very cool without being aware of it. Also, kind of mental. (And a brilliant song to boot.) As a kid in Sweden, I probably couldn’t grasp some of the complex and political subtleties in their manifesto. But I learned, and the more I learned, the more I loved them. 7:20AM Jullander Shere is to me one of the best and most psychedelic songs ever (not on this album, I should add) and still makes me melt. And I admire a band that never compromises and always seems to do things their way, and yet still manage to have such a massive hit, that is also a brilliant song. All I want, to be honest with you. A huge song on my terms. Not too much to ask for, is it?
Deer Horns from the forests of Småland
My uncle Lasse Olson was a character. My mother’s part of the family come from a small town in southern Sweden. South, but above the forest line. Hultsfred, Småland (later home to one of Sweden’s largest and best music festivals, now sadly defunct). All pine trees and lakes, boulders and firs. Lasse had dyslexia. Back when he was a kid, they didn’t really deal with issues like that, especially not in a small town in Sweden in the 50s. So they simply thought he was a bit, ahem, “behind”. So instead of going to school, Lasse went to the forest and sat in a tree until it was time to go home.
He was, however, a clever and driven man and took a job working for the forest company. He was like a Swedish Crocodile Dundee, if you will. He took on an abandoned house on a hill above a lake and made it into his own castle.
When I was little, my mother and I used to go up and see him a lot, and it was all very fairytale-like. He was a hunter. Say what you will about that, but never have I met anyone who respected the forest and its inhabitants in the manner he did. He lived and breathed it, and spoke the language of the forest. Sadly, he passed far too early, and my other uncle, Hans (an equally good man), took over the mantle. I found these deer horns in the barn where Lasse once rescued an abandoned baby wild boar, feeding it and raising it until it was strong enough to head out to where it belonged. Deep in the forest.
Suede Shirt Jacket
I’ve got a lot of clothes. I also thought I was in The Byrds for a long time. Which means I ended up with a lot of jackets. The hunt for The Jacket is eternal, and the way it should be. I still regret not buying that Levi’s denim shirt jacket with the pockets I liked in Atlanta an age ago. I thought for a second I could get away with a fringed cowboy jacket that I tried on in Nashville. Damn, they were both good jackets. So is this one. This came from Brighton, I think.
There was once this tiny pile on, troll thing on Twitter about the way The Hanging Stars dressed. Well, I guess we care about what we wear, and I like that. I think clothes mean a lot. I’ve been collecting them for years, and they make me feel good. I appreciate well-dressed people. Doesn’t matter what you wear, it’s how you wear it. And clothes can be special. And clothes can make you feel higher, better, stranger, and – mainly- they can make you feel good. Back to the troll. I responded by saying, something along the lines of, It’s fine that you think that. It’s ok. But to me, it’s about escapism. We all have to play a role. Whatever situation you may find yourself in, you’re playing some sort of role. So why not wear a pretty Western shirt, if that makes you happy? Plus, it’s our job as performers, song and dance men, to be clowns. Look at The Flying Burrito Brothers for god’s sake.
You should check out the video for The Hanging Stars’ first single Golden Vanity (watch below). It’s made by a guy called Michael Eaton, who later ended up working on Game of Thrones. Also, I’m sporting a suede cape, which is awesome, but also impossible to play the guitar in. I think Michael’s wife, Alex, had to help me get my hands out of the slits that were supposed to be for the hands. Cool video.
Autoharp
I think that The Hanging Stars’ new record, Just A Day, is the first record where we didn’t use the autoharp. That celestial, hymnal atmosphere that this amazing instrument produces has followed my career for over 20 years. Come to think of it, we did use Edwyn’s Omnichord, which in a lot of ways is an electronic autoharp. So there you go.
When I was fresh off the boat from Sweden and in the UK, I ended up forming a folk-rock band called The Eighteenth Day of May with a few friends back in the mid-noughties. Our drummer Karl brought his autoharp in, and I was blown away by that sound. So I got my own, and I think it’s been used in some way or another on all of the 10 albums I’ve been involved in over the last 20 years.
Now here’s the thing. I can’t play it. Properly, that is. But I can play it as anyone can play it. Strum it, pick it, whatever. Just make sure it’s in tune. Which is yet another separate chapter. That’s what I love about those folk instruments, they’re for everyone. Just like the dulcimer. It’s a family instrument. Something everyone can jump on and play. Easy to understand and relatively easy to produce a good sound from. The way music should be. For everyone.
Pre-Order Just A Day (June 19th, 2026) Loose Music: Bandcamp | Loose
The Hanging Stars Tour Dates:
11-06-2026 London, UK – Third Man Records (Sold Out!)
29-08-2026 Stanford Hall, UK – The Long Road Festival
04-09-2026 Sheffield, UK – Yellow Arch
08-09-2026 Dorset, UK – End of the Road Festival (with Bonnie Dobson)
07-10-2026 Ipswich, UK – The Church
08-10-2026 Hull, UK – The New Adelphi
09-10-2026 Newcastle, UK – The Cluny 2
10-10-2026 Glasgow, UK – Mono
11-10-2026 Manchester, UK – Night & Day Café
23-10-2026 St. Leonards, UK – The Piper
24-10-2026 Brighton, UK – The Brunswick
31-10-2026 Dorking, UK – St Mary’s Church
05-11-2026 Darlington, UK – The Forum
06-11-2026 Nottingham, UK – The Old Cold Store
07-11-2026 Norwich, UK – Norwich Arts Centre
13-11-2026 London, UK – St Mathias Church
15-11-2026 Portsmouth, UK – The Wedgewood Rooms