Exclusive Interview: Calum Scott on ‘Avenoir,’ Self-Discovery, and Embracing the Journey

There are voices that move you, and then there are voices that change you. Calum Scott belongs firmly in the latter. One of the defining artists of his generation, Calum has built a catalog grounded in vulnerability, honesty, and unflinching emotion. His music transcends genre and sound—it’s art that heals, that saves, that makes people feel seen. Through every lyric and every note, he continues to turn his own experiences into a lifeline for others, reminding us of the profound power of human connection through song.

Calum’s third album, Avenoir, marks a turning point—an acknowledgment of how far he’s come and an embrace of what lies ahead. The title, inspired by a word describing how we move forward through life while only seeing where we’ve been, perfectly captures the album’s heartbeat. It’s reflective yet full of light, a collection that carries gratitude for the pain, peace for the past, and hope for the future. With Avenoir, Calum invites listeners into that rare and beautiful space between reflection and possibility—a place where healing meets hope.

Pop Culturalist was lucky enough to sit down with Calum once again to discuss Avenoir, the moments that shaped its creation, and how this new chapter reveals an artist who continues to grow, inspire, and redefine what it means to truly bare your soul.

PC: I love the concept behind this album. It’s about living in the present and embracing the twists and turns that have made this journey so worthwhile. That spirit lives and breathes throughout the record—it has everything we love about you: the vulnerability, the life-affirming ballads, and those powerhouse vocals. But it also feels like a fun exploration of your sound, range, and lyricism. Through it all, there’s a confidence that shines through. What’s played the biggest part in developing that aspect of your artistry?
Calum: Thank you for those lovely words. Confidence, for me, feels like the biggest defining factor of this album. With this third release, I’ve come to realize that this is my day job—it’s not just luck or riding on the back of a cover. I’ve got three major songs behind me, music that’s changed people’s lives. I’m about to embark on a third world tour. I’ve been trusted to sing for the King of my country. I’ve sung with Ed Sheeran in stadiums across Asia and Europe. There have been so many affirming moments that I finally had to say to myself, “You’re doing all right.” I can accept that I’m probably not going back to working in a grocery store. That gave me the confidence to worry and scrutinize less—and enjoy it more.

I know that sounds ridiculous because I’m doing a job I love. But you can get so caught up in things like, “Is it good for radio? Will it work on TikTok? How will the campaign go?” You get lost in the industry side of things and forget about the joy of simply making a record.

That renewed confidence and reassurance gave me the creative freedom to experiment more—to play around with country influences, dive into upbeat pop sounds, and push myself lyrically. I still hold on to that emotional core—I’ll always want to make you cry—but this album allowed me to explore more of what my music can be.

PC: The last time that we spoke, you described putting an album together as holding a mirror to yourself and asking, “What is it you want to say with this body of work?” There’s something so profound in the way this record reflects the many layers of who you are—whether it’s the themes, experiences, or emotions that have shaped you. How did you approach weaving all of that together into such a cohesive body of work?
Calum: It’s as I’ve said before, and as you just mentioned—every album is a mirror of where I am at that point in time, and I’m asking myself, “What is it I want to say next?” When I look at my previous albums, my first explored my sexuality and identity and the struggles I had with that. My second was more about mental health. But this third one, when I listen to it, I think, “Wait a minute, this is way happier than the last two.” It’s more joyful. On this album, I’m figuring myself out a bit more.

I have a song on the album that’s a bit of a nod to the LGBTQ+ community and to me feeling different but still being able to find love. It’s called “Unsteady.” It’s about feeling like a misfit—like people don’t get me, or I don’t get them—and still being able to find love. That’s such a beautiful thing, and I think it’s really relatable.

This album has a bit of self-discovery and also looks toward the future with songs like “Gone” and “Mad.” There’s the finiteness of life in “Gone,” but the preciousness of it in “Mad,” which also touches on me wanting to be a dad. Even though the album feels joyful, it’s still very reflective. It makes you think. That’s where I’m at in my life. I’ve made peace with myself and my demons. I don’t want to say I’ve grown up, but I feel more well-rounded. I’ve talked before about lacking confidence or self-belief, and even the ability to forgive and move on from certain hurdles in my life. I feel like those first two albums healed me.

This one feels more celebratory. The way I’m feeling—my self-worth, belief, and assurance—has shaped the creative process around it. I definitely wanted to be more intentional with this album. I wanted to show people that I’m not just putting songs together; I’m thinking about the tracklisting, the artwork, the name, and the concept.

The album is called Avenoir, and this time, we shaped a track around the title instead of picking a song and naming the album after it. This one felt very deliberate. I came across the word “Avenoir” and thought, “What is this?” I looked into it and found it was a term created by John Koenig. He described life as being like that of a rower—you’re always moving forward but can only see where you’ve been. His concept was, what if you could turn around in that boat and see your memories approaching you? You’d see your wedding day coming, your kids, even the worst days of your life, and you’d be able to prepare for them.

When I thought about that and the last ten years, I realized these have been the best ten years of my life. I never could’ve predicted any of it. I used to work in an HR office, typing away and dreaming of this life. And rarely in life do dreams come true—especially to this extent. Because I couldn’t see it coming, it’s made it all the more special. Nothing was laid out for me. I had to work hard for every stream, every show, every milestone.

And just when I think it can’t get any better, something incredible happens—like being asked to sing for the King of my country or doing a duet with Whitney Houston’s voice. It just keeps getting better. What’s exciting is that I haven’t seen any of it coming, and that keeps me ambitious, hopeful, and dreaming big. This album really represents that for me.

PC: That’s such an important lesson for anyone listening to the album. “Intentional” is such a great word to describe the project—where the first half feels like your signature sound, the middle is that space for exploration and fun, and the end looks toward your future. What’s so special about this album is that with each listen, a different song resonates in a new way. Has there been a track that’s taken on a different meaning for you now compared to when you first wrote or recorded it?
Calum: That’s a good question. At the time, “Gone” felt like a beautiful song, yet it’s such a stark reminder that life is so fragile and can change at any minute. Having been through some awful things this year with friends, family, and loved ones, it’s a reminder that things can change in a heartbeat.

It’s funny because that song came about when I was talking to my producer in the studio. He has two young daughters. I said to him, “Isn’t it so strange that one day you’re going to pick up your youngest, give her a little cuddle, put her back down—and you’ll never pick her up again?” It was a throwaway comment, and then I started thinking about it more: the last time you feed them with a spoon, or bottle-feed them, or whatever it is. It was very much about his daughters and being a parent, and then you start to realize that you never know when your last kiss will be, or your last goodbye, or your last laugh with a friend. It’s this very hit-you-in-the-face, life-is-short kind of song.

The more I’ve listened to it, even though on the surface it can be unsettling and make you think, “Christ, I just need to live,” the more I’ve realized it’s actually a beautiful thing. It’s less of a slap in the face to live life because it’s fleeting, and more of a gentle tap on the shoulder saying, “Give them another hug. Say you love them again. Rekindle that relationship with your friend. Go and do that thing you’ve been saying you wanted to do.” It’s almost like that little voice on your shoulder you don’t pay attention to because you’re so focused on the future and getting things done—the here and now, the bills, all of it. Then you take a minute to pause and go, “I want to make things better with that one friend.” It’s those little things that, every time I listen to it, make me want to do a little bit more—to repair that thing. It’s beautiful, albeit on the surface incredibly sad. [laughs]

PC: It’s very introspective yet hopeful. That’s been the crux of your career—you’ve always had this beautiful juxtaposition in the songs you create. Your artistry has always been rooted in making people feel seen. The way you paint these lyrics feels like a tapestry of emotions and experiences, and it’s so beautiful to hear that reference in “Mad” about creating space for your future child to be that painter. A song like that will have an impact on the world, especially within our community, because it’s so vulnerable to share your hopes, your dreams, and your vision for the future. Personally, why was it so important to you to have that particular song on the album? And is there another lyric on the record that you feel carries the same impact?
Calum: You’re good. The thing with “Mad”—and I’ve said this about every album—is that I always try to give a piece of myself. I take a piece of my heart and put it in the music. When you listen to the lyrics, there’s a piece of my heart in every song. There’s almost a part that I know I’ll never get back. They say that when you’re in a relationship with someone, you give them a piece of your heart, and you know it’s not returnable. It’s the same with my albums.

My first album had that vulnerability of talking about my sexuality. I was so terrified in those early days to speak about it because I’d lost a lot of people growing up when I did. I buried it. A lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community can attest to that—that when you suppress the conflict between who you are and who you present yourself to be, it causes all sorts of trauma. It made life really difficult for me. That first album was huge for me because it was the first time I spoke about it. I remember being at the label, crying my eyes out, saying, “I don’t know how to talk about this.” It was through music—through my song “No Matter What”—that I finally made peace with it.

The second album came during a much darker time in my life. I was going through an identity crisis, struggling with body dysmorphia, self-worth, and confidence. My song “Bridges” felt like the point of no return. It was a moment where things felt like they were never going to get better. Talking about suicide was such a big deal for me—it was the most private I’ve ever been publicly. I never thought I’d talk about it, and at the time, I was so ashamed that I’d allowed myself to get to that point, standing on a bridge and looking over the edge. Looking back now, I’m not embarrassed by it anymore. Talking about it healed me, and the messages I received from people saying, “That song saved my life. I’ve been there,” made me realize the importance of being open.

With this third album, I was very much looking inward. It wasn’t so much about what I was putting out that I couldn’t get back—it was about honesty. And I’ve seen that honesty reflected back to me through my fans. We share this relationship built on truth and relatability. On this album, I said what I needed to say. I made peace with myself and with a lot of things. “Mad” was something I hadn’t shared with many people—that desperate need to be a dad. In some ways, “Mad” filled a void in my life tied to my relationship with my dad, which wasn’t great. My dad left when I was two and moved to Canada, so I didn’t have that father figure growing up. That was really tough, and I’d never spoken about it publicly. For me, “Mad” healed that part of me. I didn’t have a father figure in my life, but that means, by God, I’m going to be the best one I can be for my child.

As you said, it’s vulnerable to share your hopes and dreams and what you want for your future, and to put that out there for everyone to see. That was a part of me I wanted to include on this album—it meant a lot.

After you listen to “Mad,” there’s this beautiful interlude called “Avenoir,” which takes you on a journey. It comes full circle, because at the beginning of the passage, we buried a little voice clip of my nephew. He’d been listening to some of my new music and sent me a message saying, “Good job, mate. Well done.” It’s such a cute little thing, and my nephew has been like my little boy. I love him so much, and having his approval means the world to me. Then, toward the end, you hear a baby crying—that’s actually my best friend’s baby, who was born on December 25, 2024. It’s a nod to where I want my life to go. Having those two important people—my nephew and my best friend’s child—on this record and what they represent to me felt like the perfect extension of “Mad.” I cry every time I listen to it. It’s such a beautiful hope for the future and a dream for what’s to come. That was the most vulnerable part of me on this album.

PC: I need to go back and listen to that part again. You’ve given so much of yourself to your music, and that’s why it resonates. I saw you at the Beacon Theatre in 2024—it was such a testament to your professionalism and your artistry. It’s one of my favorite sets of yours that I’ve seen live. I remember thinking you were doing so many cool things with your vocals and reinventing these songs we know and love—and then I found out you were sick. All that to say, as you embark on this third world tour, you’re doing something special by inviting local artists to support you along the way. Why has that been such an important part of this upcoming tour? And as your catalog grows, is there a song that will always make your setlist?
Calum: I love these double questions. To answer your second one first—the obvious answer for me is “You Are the Reason.” That song signifies so much. It helped me break out of this torment I’d put on myself—that I was only good for a cover, that I was a one-trick pony, that I’d never have another song as big as “Dancing on My Own.” “You Are the Reason” saved me from that. It’s every artist’s worst nightmare when you have a big hit and think, “How am I going to follow that up?” That song saved me.

It’s such a beautiful record in its simplicity, yet it speaks to so many people. Maybe that’s the secret ingredient—it says things in such a matter-of-fact way: “I would climb every mountain. And swim every ocean.” The amount of people who’ve come up to me saying they used that song for their first dance at their wedding or walked down the aisle to it… people are using it to immortalize a moment in time with the people they love, in front of the people they love. Out of millions of songs, they chose mine. That’s the highest accolade. It’s better than any Grammy, BRIT, or award I can think of. To have someone say, “Your song will soundtrack this moment for the rest of our lives”—it makes me want to cry my eyes out. That one will always be part of the setlist. I think if I didn’t include it, there’d be outrage.

In terms of the support acts—last year, I toured with Ed Sheeran, and what he did for me in terms of confidence and stagecraft was massive. He threw me into the deep end—physically—in stadiums where there’s nowhere to hide. And that’s exactly what I needed to grow into this next level. It probably did more for my self-worth and confidence than anything else, and that’s something that’s carried into this new album.

So when it came time for me to think about my own tour and the chance to choose my openers, I thought about what Ed did for me and how I could pay that forward. Sometimes life really is about the right time and the right place. I thought about my Britain’s Got Talent audition, which was one of the stepping stones that got me here—I had to travel two hours from home just to audition, then down to London for the show. Not everyone has that opportunity. Some people don’t have the resources to travel or access those kinds of moments.

I realized I’m going to all these cities, so why not create the opportunity for someone right there in their hometown—to perform on their local stage, to have that same “right time, right place” moment? I wanted to make that happen for someone else. As I get older, I want to use my platform to do good beyond the music. It’s one thing to write these beautiful pop songs, but I also want to make an impact through the work I do with charities and by giving others a chance.

It’s been incredible, though a bit overwhelming—we received 12,000 submissions. [laughs] But it’s been such a joy to listen to all that talent I might never have discovered otherwise. I’ve actually put together a playlist of some of the artists who submitted, and I’ll be releasing it once we’ve chosen our openers—so even those who aren’t selected can still be heard. I just want to do good.

My grandma, God bless her soul, passed away many years ago, but she said something that’s always stayed with me: “If you can do good, then you should.” And I’m in a position where I can—so I should. It’s as simple as that.

To keep up with Calum, follow him on X, Instagram, Spotify, Apple Music, and TikTok. Stream Avenoir wherever you listen to music.

Photo Credit: Tom Cockram