Newton Faulkner has never been interested in delivering the same show twice. For him, live performance is a two-way exchange, one shaped as much by the crowd as by the songs themselves.
That philosophy has only intensified on his most recent tour, where each night becomes a negotiation between intention, environment, and audience energy.
BRIG spoke to Faulkner who explains that while he has an emotional destination in mind, (ideally a moment of pin-drop quiet) how he gets there is never fixed.
“I don’t go and do the same show every night regardless of the reaction, the whole setlist shifts depending on the crowd.”
“Every gig is different,” he says. “I kind of go wherever the crowds take me.”
Venue layout, acoustics, even the placement of the bar all play their part. There are always factors at play.”
Physicality, MIDI Shoes & Pushing the Show Further
What has changed is how far he is willing to push himself on stage. The current show is markedly more physical than previous tours, with Faulkner now standing and using custom-built MIDI shoes to trigger sounds through his feet.
While movement has always been part of his performance, he says it was once subtle enough to go largely unnoticed, “It’s an incredibly physical show now. It was before, but it was much subtler.”
“Now it’s much more obvious,” he says. “Everything that’s going on, hands, feet, driving the sound, you can really see it.”
The shoes themselves were built by Faulkner, despite, as he puts it, “definetly not being a builder of things.”
For now, they require precision rather than abandon, but he is already planning to evolve the setup. “I kind of want to just stomp around,” he says. “That’ll take it up another notch.”
New Material & Audience Reception
Audience response has played a significant role in that confidence. Over the summer, Faulkner found himself being heckled for an unfamiliar reason: “Fans were asking for more new material. That’s never happened before,” he laughs.
“After 25 years, you don’t expect people to be asking for the new songs.”
It was an unexpected affirmation, particularly given how different the new record is from earlier work.
Letting Go of the Rules
Faulkners latest album, Octopus, represents a fundamental shift in how Faulkner approaches music-making. From writing to recording to production, every stage felt different.
“The production end was where I had the most fun,” he says. “I tapped into something I’d never really got near before.”
“It changed everything, the writing, the recording, and especially the production.”
Earlier albums were shaped by restrictions. Certain sounds were discouraged early in his career and gradually became habits of avoidance. Brass, heavy vocal processing, extreme manipulation, ideas quietly ruled out before they could be explored.
“There were things that were kind of banned before, and I just naturally avoided them.” he says,
“If one person in the room doesn’t like something, it can affect everything,” he reflects.
On Octopus, those internalised rules were dismantled. Faulkner leaned into vocal distortion and experimentation he had previously avoided. This time, the choices were deliberate.
“It felt intentional,” he says. “This is where I’m going. Let’s make it as interesting as possible.”
Choosing the Impossible
Faulkner applies a similar intentionality when choosing covers. Rather than opting for easy crowd-pleasers, he looks for songs that feel either sacred or impossible.
His cover of Massive Attack’s Teardrop came with a clear condition: if the recording wasn’t right, it would never be released. “I didn’t want to infuriate an entire generation,” he says. “With Teardrop, the idea was: what shouldn’t you touch?”
With Bohemian Rhapsody, the challenge was physical rather than cultural.
“As soon as you start Bohemian Rhapsody, people think there’s absolutely no way you’re going to do the whole thing.”
“What should you not be able to do on your own?” he asks. The moment he begins the song, he knows the audience is waiting for it to fall apart and that tension is exactly what draws him in.
Footage from an early performance at T in the Park still lingers in his mind, influencing his decision to bring the song out again in Glasgow. “I knew it would go down well there,” he says.
Using the Platform for Good
Beyond music, Faulkner is mindful of how his actions resonate outward. His long-standing relationship with Teenage Cancer Trust reflects a belief that visibility carries responsibility.
“If just doing what I’d be doing for fun can help people it seems insane not to do that.”
When he decided to shave his head, partnering with the charity felt instinctive. The gesture needed to reach beyond personal symbolism, and Teenage Cancer Trust felt like the right place for that energy to land.
“Doing it in partnership with Teenage Cancer Trust felt 100% right.”
“It’s a huge honour,” he says. “They do incredible things.”
When Things Fall Apart
Looking back on the tour, Faulkner is less focused on standout shows than on the people who made them possible. He describes the touring party, support acts, crew, engineers, as unusually harmonious.
“It was a perfectly balanced group,” he says, noting how rare that is after decades on the road.
On stage, however, harmony often comes from disruption. Faulkner admits he thrives when things go wrong. At one show, his MIDI shoes partially failed, forcing him to reassign sounds mid-performance.
Instead of derailing the set, the moment sharpened his focus. “If I let it ruin the gig, what’s the point?” he says. “It becomes a challenge.”
That resilience, he notes, has been hard-earned. Years ago, technical stress would have affected his voice. Now, he trusts his toolkit, both physical and vocal. “The more horribly wrong things go,” he says, “the happier I am.”
Newtons Advice for the Next Generation
For emerging musicians, Faulkner’s advice is refreshingly simple: “make it fun”. Technical complexity may impress a handful of people, but most audiences respond to feeling rather than mechanics.
“Ninety-eight percent don’t care how difficult it is,” he says. “They just care if it feels good.”
He believes physical performance will only become more important in an era shaped by AI and digital production. At the same time, he encourages artists to approach online presence in ways that feel authentic rather than obligatory.
“If you’re doing it grudgingly, people feel that,” he says. “Find what works for you, and let go of what doesn’t.”
For Faulkner, momentum comes from staying present, on stage, online, and in the moments when things don’t go to plan. It is there, in the unpredictability, that his work continues to evolve.
Feature Image Credit: Courteney Pearson
