Paul Marshall (Lone Wolf): Looking Back at ‘Vultures’ – Article

Photo Credit: Danny North.

Before Lone Wolf, there was plain old Paul Marshall. I was another guy with an acoustic guitar in what felt like the age of the singer-songwriter. The world was in awe of the likes of José González (who, little did I know, I would later tour with), but in my home town of Leeds there was a collection of extremely talented musicians who I looked up to — and naturally felt impostor syndrome around any time I had the pleasure of sharing the bill. David Thomas Broughton, Benjamin Wetherill, Fran Rodgers, ‘Serious’ Sam Barrett, Michael Rossiter, David Broad… Not to mention the bands! It felt like there was a gig to go to practically every night, and as I write this on a long train ride to Exeter, I find myself with a little warm, fuzzy feeling remembering those days.

A problem that came with being a solo artist back then (maybe now too, I’m not sure) was that there was always this duty to go on first. The acoustic player goes on while everyone chats, waiting for the ‘real’ music to arrive in the form of a band that was simply too loud to talk over. Of course, not every gig was like that, but as a person flying solo and giving it everything you’ve got, you did need thicker skin to keep going — and if you’ve listened to any of my lyrics, it’s probably hard to believe I developed one.

So, I started doing things my own way. Instead of playing line-ups that suited my style of music, I did the absolute opposite. I’d made a lot of friends in the DIY scene after being in some loud/noise bands myself, and I asked the likes of metal bands Humanfly and Red Stars Parade if I could play their gigs instead — and not go on first! They welcomed me with open arms. To my own surprise, and many other people’s, it worked. A metal band would go on first, scream the place down with their incredible energy and confidence, and then I’d turn up. I can safely say that, before I’d developed any kind of name for myself, these were the busiest yet quietest, most respectful gigs I could ever have asked for. People actually paid full attention and listened intently. I felt safe with these people, and my confidence began to grow (and probably my ego).

I never intended to make an album. I was quite happy just writing and playing gigs, until I wrote a song called ‘Sea Full of Trains’ in 2002 and it was like some kind of switch clicked in my head. Suddenly something felt different. It’s hard to put a finger on exactly what that was, but I somehow knew this one was a bit better (in whose opinion, I don’t know) than my previous output. So, along with ‘Älvsbyn’ (which would also later appear on ‘Vultures’), I made a home-recorded EP of the same name. The cover featured a naked me running into the woods in Sweden holding a tennis racket. Don’t ask me why… I genuinely have no idea. What a nob!

Photo Credit: Danny North.

This EP fell into the hands of a wonderful band called Jeniferever (do yourself a favour and listen to their music — they deserved to be huge), also from Sweden. We played together once or twice and had sort of become friends, then very good friends, then tour buddies. Whenever they played in Leeds, my house would become a gaggle of skinny-jeaned Swedes finding any spare space they could on my floor to sleep. I truthfully think this relationship was the turning point for me, and where what you might call my ‘career’ (whatever that means) began.

No point hiding this fact… I love Nick Drake. Listening back to ‘Vultures’, I think I could maybe have hidden that a little better, but alas, my fingerpicking was developing, as was my songwriting. Kristofer Jonson (Jeniferever) heard my songs ‘Greenfly’ and ‘A Place on the Map’ and told me he wanted me to come to Uppsala in Sweden, where he would record them. We went to this gorgeous little theatre where Kris worked as a sound engineer, set up on the stage, and I blasted through them both. Kris was honestly so professional, and this whole recording lark was a new world for me. Then, when Åsa Magnusson arrived to play the viola, my jaw dropped at the possibilities of what might lie ahead for my music and my sound. Kris and Åsa took this one beautiful instrument and created layers of texture and emotion I’d never heard or felt on a recording of my own songs before.

I returned home to Leeds with these two songs on my iPod and no idea what to do with them. This was the era of Myspace, and a lot of my musical discoveries at the time were made through that platform — and it also seemed my music was starting to be discovered as well. Jeniferever had just released their debut album and masterpiece, ‘Choose a Bright Morning’. They asked if I’d record a cover of their song ‘From Across the Sea’ for the b-side of their single, and it was at this point I teamed up with my friend and drummer from my old band Rays of Helios, Kevin McGonnell, to record it — and to make some more home recordings of a bunch of new songs I’d written.

Day after day I’d turn up at his house, guitar case in hand, and we’d record another song. I distinctly remember an extremely hungover Fran Rodgers arriving to sing backing vocals for me. She may have been hungover, but my god, that lady could sing. It also felt great knowing how much of an impostor I’d felt on the scene just a couple of years earlier, only to now have her singing on my record. It was an honour.

Photo Credit: Danny North.

In hindsight, I think I probably got a bit carried away when I discovered multitracking. A glockenspiel? Let’s record that! A kalimba… A f***ing Himalayan singing bowl!!? Bloody hell, Paul… Calm the f*** down. I listen to some of those things now and wish I’d been a bit more frugal, but hey — I was young, excited, and little did I know I was heading towards the bigger sound that became Lone Wolf just a few years later. So I guess I have to forgive myself a bit for that.

With all of these recordings, it kind of felt like I needed to do something with them. That something became ‘Vultures’. You may not have realised that this little collection of just nine songs (technically eight, if you strip out the intro track ‘Välkommen’) was actually recorded over a period of five years, in three different places, before it was released by Iapetus Recordings in 2007. Looking back, that was a lot of effort for a total of 37 minutes.

It’s now 2026. Nearly 20 years have passed since this record was released, and to say a lot happened afterwards would be an understatement. The nine years that followed the release of ‘Vultures’, and the ten years of complete musical silence after that, are a story of their own. Maybe I’ll write about that one day — but I’m not here to write an autobiography.

So why am I writing this at all? Well, I’m about to play my first gig in a decade.

Photo Credit: Danny North.

In 2016, I’d had enough. I was mentally drained, and just like the switch that clicked back in 2002, it went the other way. I stopped everything. Writing, playing, performing… all gone. I completely cut the version of Paul Marshall I’ve been writing about out of my life. For a while, the silence was a relief. Then it just became normal. Again, that’s a story of its own, but I felt I should mention it — because as I’m about to play these songs live again (some of them for the first time in 20 years), I’m happy to say that I’m genuinely really excited to do it.

My own kids (now 12 and 13) have never seen me play live. My fiancée has seen me play a couple of songs for friends at weddings, but that’s it, and my new circle of friends just know this as something ‘Paul used to do’. I realise this has all been my own doing. I made the decision to completely sever myself from the guy on stage and fade into obscurity. People who know me would say, “That is such a Paul Marshall thing to do.” When I said “never again” after the last gig, I genuinely meant it, so actually going back on that decision has been an anxiety rollercoaster.

However, on October 24th 2026, I’m returning to the stage at Hyde Park Book Club in Leeds for one show to celebrate this album. I’ve dusted off the acoustic, and the calluses are slowly returning to my fingertips. No doubt I’ll be an insufferable bag of nerves on the night, but hey — I’ll have my family, friends, and whoever else wishes to come along for the ride, so what the hell! I’m delighted that Fran Rodgers has agreed to play too. There’s a whole lot of history coming back together on stage that night.

Again, I say this is a one-off. But who knows. All I know is that I’m really looking forward to it. It’s wonderful to feel no pressure — no career step, no agenda. I’m doing this for my kids. They’re the only critics I care about.

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Paul Marshall will play at Hyde Park Book Club on Saturday 24 October 2026 7:30 pm  11:00 pm. You can get tickets here.