With ‘Never/Know,’ Luke Pritchard returns to the heart of The Kooks’ sound – blending raw analog warmth, emotional clarity, and soulful spontaneity – while drawing inspiration from fatherhood, personal loss, and a desire to reconnect with the spirit that launched the band’s journey two decades ago.

Stream: ‘Never/Know’ – The Kooks

Few bands have mastered the balance between reinvention and staying true to their roots quite like The Kooks.

Now, seven albums in, frontman Luke Pritchard finds himself at a new crossroads – both as an artist and as a father. With their latest album, Never/Know, set for release on May 9 (via Virgin Music Group), Pritchard speaks about his process in producing the record and how this new chapter in his life has reshaped his relationship with music.

Never/Know - The Kooks — Never/Know – The Kooks

The album reflects a sense of growth and reflection, blending the band’s early influences with a renewed creative spontaneity. “I wasn’t worried about being current or relevant at all,” Pritchard explains. “I was just really focused on beauty – on creating something warm and maybe even a little healing in its own way.”

That instinctive approach led him back to the core of his songwriting. “I had all these sketches, and I called the guys and said, ‘Look, I don’t want to be tyrannical here, but I really want to take the lead on this. I want to guide it and get the best out of all of us. What do you think?’”

The result is an album that feels both timeless and personal – capturing the raw chemistry of the band with a deeper emotional resonance. Pritchard speaks openly about the tension between nostalgia and reinvention, as well as the unexpected magic of letting go in the studio. “Becoming a father gave me a new sense of clarity,” he says. “Not just in terms of lyrics, but in the whole sound. I wanted it to feel warm and reflective.”

The Kooks' Luke Pritchard © 2025 — The Kooks’ Luke Pritchard © 2025

**From a sonic standpoint, Never/Know leans into rich analog textures and a deliberately unpolished palette, drawing from classic rock and soul influences while remaining rooted in the present.**

The album moves away from the band’s recent flirtations with synth-driven production, favoring a more organic, tactile sound. Pritchard, who produced all but one track, cultivated an atmosphere that encouraged intuition and looseness.

“We bought some really nice old amps, and everyone just plugged in and played,” he recalls. “I kind of tricked them – I told them we were just rehearsing. And that made it fun.”

One standout track, “Arrow Through Me,” captures that spontaneous spirit. “It’s got this lovely soul vibe,” Pritchard smiles. “It reminded me of those old soul records but with a kind of Beach Boys thing going on too. It’s playful, and it just came together so naturally.”

That relaxed, soulful sensibility is especially evident in tracks like “Sunny Baby,” where dreamy harmonies and warm tones reveal a gentler side of the band. “That one’s my son’s favorite,” Pritchard shares. “Making this album while he was in his third year really brought up a lot for me. It connected me with memories of my own dad, who I lost when I was young. There was this emotional undercurrent that I think found its way into the songs.”

While Never/Know echoes the dreaminess of The Kooks’ early work, its sonic boldness and analog warmth mark a confident new chapter.

As Pritchard puts it, “This album’s really about reconnecting – with the music, with my past, and with what matters most.”

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:: stream/purchase Never/Know here ::

:: connect with The Kooks here ::

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Stream: “Sunny Baby” – The Kooks

A CONVERSATION WITH THE KOOKS

Atwood Magazine: Congratulations on the beautiful new album and this exciting chapter of your life. I think it’s remarkable. I don’t have kids yet, but with my niece, I’ve seen how much it shifts your perspective. That got me curious – when it comes to this new album and the creative process, what surprised you the most about being a dad while self-producing such a big project? And how did that compare to the way you approached previous albums?

Luke Pritchard: I guess it’s kind of a funny one. Like, the idea that people care that we’re making a seventh album is so cool, you know? So very cool. To be asked to come on podcasts and things – it’s amazing. So, thank you, guys. With this new album, what made it different is that I had this kind of epiphany on stage. We’ve done a lot of different albums where we explored different directions, especially sonically. And I was on stage playing our old song “Ooh La,” and I had this moment – like, an epiphany. I saw everyone still connecting to this tune, and I started thinking about it – why? What was it hitting on? And I realized, you know, it’s been a long time since I really wrote a bunch of songs on my own, the way I used to. Especially in the early days, I’d be in my bedroom at my family home, writing. And my rule was – if I remembered the song in the morning, then it was a good song.

So, I thought, you know what? I work with a lot of producers, and that’s the modern way – it’s very collaborative. I told my wife, “Look, I’ll help, I’ll be around, we’ll be hanging out with the kids, but I just need five days where I can go into my studio and really start some new music.” And it just flowed, suddenly, I felt like I had found my identity again. A lot of people have told me that while it doesn’t sound like the first album, it has the same energy as the first album. And I think that’s maybe why – because it just came out of me so naturally. I wrote pretty much the whole album – the lyrics and melody – in this very short period of time. It was a big change from the last three albums, where we kind of just fell into making an album. I’d be the producer, and you know how music production can get in the way sometimes – everything sounds good quickly. And that’s great, but this time – I had this kind of vision, you know?

I had all these sketches for the album, so I called the guys and said, “Look, I don’t want to be tyrannical here, but I really want to take the lead on this. I want to guide it and get the best out of all of us. What do you think?” I spoke to Hugh first, and he was just like, “Man, finally.” He was like, “Thank God. We’ve been doing this for 20 years or whatever – we all know what we’re doing. Let’s just get in a room.” And everyone was really supportive. So, we started from there. That was the inception – very different.

It's amazing how many artists and musicians talk about that feeling – when something is just flowing through you, and you're completely tapped in. When you’re in service of something greater than yourself, that’s when the most powerful and meaningful work happens. I’d love to hear a story about one of the songs on the album – one that really stood out to you. Maybe a moment when you truly felt that energy moving through you.

Luke Pritchard: Yes, well, with this one, I wasn’t worried about being current or relevant at all. I was really focused on beauty – on creating something warm and maybe even a little healing in its own way. It was a reaction to everything happening outside my four walls, you know? Every song has a story behind it. “If They Could Only Know,” for example, has a sweet story at its core. It’s a simple, relatable idea. I’ve been through a lot – happiness, unhappiness, chaos, clarity – and eventually, I found something stable. I started a family. But there’s always that feeling of wishing the people who never got to see me reach this point could see it now.

I also wanted to add a little humor – channeling Ray Davies and that dry British wit. There’s a bit about missing my granny’s cooking, and I mention my dad, too. He passed away when I was a kid, and when I was writing this, I was really processing something deep. When my firstborn, Julian, turned three, I had this realization – my dad died when I was three, and I always thought, He never knew me. He never got to see who I became. But when I looked at my son, I understood – my dad did know me. If I were to die today, I’d still know my son completely – his personality, his little world. That bond is a whole universe in itself. It was such a powerful realization, and that feeling runs through a lot of the songs on the album.

Especially “Never Know” – which is why I kind of named the album after it. It’s about gratitude for what you’ve had and what you have now. Losing my dad as a kid was the hardest thing in my life, but there’s also joy in realizing how much time we did have together. If that makes sense. And psychologically, when I started a family, all of that came up again. In my first couple of records, there was a lot of angst. Even if I was writing about a girl, all of a sudden, this deep, primal emotion would come out – like a kind of primal scream, you know? And looking back, that’s really clear to me now.

There are specific songs tied to this, too. “See Me Now,” from our fourth record, is literally a letter to my dad. And there are some direct moments in “Gap,” which is on my second album – Paul and I wrote that one together. It’s funny – everyone in our original band lineup, the Band of Cougs, shared this experience of having a missing father figure. It’s something I’ve thought about a lot. Paul, our drummer, had an especially intense experience – his dad passed away on the very first gig the Cougs ever played. And he still played that night. His dad died that day. So, Paul and I wrote “Gap” together about that. So yeah, there are specific stories behind these songs. And I don’t know – I think there’s something beautiful about it. Not necessarily negative, but definitely meaningful.

There's such a stunning nostalgia to your music, and I know so many of your fans resonate with that. It’s really interesting to hear that you all share this deep spiritual touchstone. And now, being a dad yourself, I imagine that nostalgia feels even more heightened. Do you often look back on your younger self and the band with a new perspective? If so, how does that shape your music and the lessons you’d share with your son?

Luke Pritchard: I mean, there’s so much in there. I think music is like that in so many ways. I find nostalgia incredibly inspiring. But in a way, all music is channeling it. And it’s because music is this language of the past and the future that kind of coexists, you know? Because everything – do you ever notice how any music you hear, it’s a bit like smell or sight? Everything needs a reference. Your brain works the same way. Like, we know that when we look at something, our eyes can only see a certain amount, but our brain fills in the rest. And music’s a little bit like that, I think. So when you’re writing, when you’re making stuff, you’re hooking onto things you’ve heard, things you’ve been inspired by. And sometimes, not even things that consciously inspired you – just something you’re looking for in a weird way. You know you’ve got a great song when it sounds like you’ve heard it before. Like, you write the song, but you’re like, This feels like it already existed. And those are usually the good ones.

I don’t know what that is or how it happens, but back to your point – it’s probably subconscious, a lot of it. But with this new record, yeah, I really wanted to break everything down and then build it back up again. Like I said a minute ago, I felt a little bit lost. It was like, we’d been pushing so much to evolve and do different things, and I had this moment of thinking, well, what is this band? What’s the identity? And so, the whole album kind of became an offering – an expression for the people who really love our band. It’s all the elements that started the band, but through a new lens. One of the things I did with the guys – especially from a production point of view – was just listening to loads of records. Like, when we were teenagers and mates, all we’d do was sit around, have some drinks, and just listen to records all the time.

But over 20 years, you stop doing that. You might put on a song in the studio, but it’s different. So that was really important – to just listen again. And then, trying to get performances out of everyone that felt like a debut album. That’s what I was really thinking about – why do people love debut albums? Or even, why do I love debut albums? Why do they have this special thing? They might not be the artist’s best record, but they feel different. And I think what I tried to do was put us in that position again.

When you’re starting out, you don’t have the money to be in the studio for long, so you have to make decisions fast. I tried to recreate that. We didn’t allow too much time. We bought some really nice old amps, and everyone just plugged in and played. And I think it really worked. I got these really cool performances from the guys – very impulsive, very instinctual. I kind of tricked them – I told them we were just rehearsing, really. And that made it fun. Because when you’re on your seventh album, everyone feels like they have to do everything perfectly. They overthink every part. But I don’t think you do that when you’re a teenager. You’re just in it. You’re in the flow state. And I really tried to get us back there. I think we got there – at least on some of the songs.

I think it’s so interesting to talk about your sound – you have such a distinctive sound. And of course, you can analyze it and try to break it down that way, but really, it’s about the feeling behind the sound. That’s what makes it what it is. Now, as a producer, you’re in this space where you’re recreating what you did on the debut album, but from a different perspective – as an adult, in a more realized space. And I think the simplest things are often the hardest to capture. So, I’m curious – how did you approach trying to tap back into that feeling?

Luke Pritchard: Well, yeah, exactly. I don’t know if I fully achieved it, but I definitely created an environment that was fun – one that allowed for mistakes and left space, you know? Like that Quincy Jones idea: “Leave enough room for God to walk in.” I wanted that kind of openness in the studio. I think that came from having the songs and the message already in place. There was no time for any nonsense – it was just direct. And in terms of chemistry, I think we all did the work. Production is such a vague term anyway. I saw myself more as the overseer, making sure everyone was their best at what they were already great at. When you have people who really know tone and love getting lost in pedals and gear, the best thing you can do is not get in their way. That’s something I’ve learned from working with other producers.

There are two main approaches to production right now. What I was doing leaned toward the old-school style – like Rick Rubin or Tony Hoffer. Well, they’re not exactly the same, but when I mention Rick Rubin, I mean that hands-off, psychological approach. And I leaned into that because the guys were already so good. Then there’s the other approach, where the producer controls the entire sound space. But for this, I think that hands-off method really helped our chemistry. Everyone had clear roles, and that made sure there were no grey areas. Disagreements can happen, but when roles are clearly defined, it keeps things moving. Recording this way – using multiple instruments, some overdubs – was actually freeing.

We just did takes, picked the best ones, and moved on. It brought us back to that old-school way of recording, where you only had three takes because studio time was expensive. You’d pick the best take, maybe splice two together, and that was it. It gave us that raw, direct sound – without getting stuck in endless digital tweaks. That approach felt fresh, even though it was a return to something older.

At the same time, I was keeping my ear on new music, and I think artists are moving toward a more organic sound. I’m not saying bands will suddenly become the commercial standard again – though maybe, and I hope so, to be honest. But I’ve been talking to producers, and a lot of big names are stepping away from click tracks and opting for a rawer approach. So maybe we’re onto something. I think people are gravitating toward more natural-sounding records right now.

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