Hideous Bastard is the debut solo album of Oliver Sim, bassist and vocalist of the British indie group The xx. The 10-track offering has Oliver reflecting on his childhood and youth, as well as his HIV diagnosis, hitherto undisclosed, at the age of 17 (he’s 33 now).
An accompanying short film, Hideous, lasting 22 minutes and directed by Yann Gonzalez, is now streaming on Mubi. It’s quite an affair — a blend of cheeky, grotesque and melodramatic scenarios, featuring Oliver as a guest on a vintage talk show.
It’s also a tribute to the singer’s lifelong obsession with horror, illicit television programming and the gay nightclub scene of the 80s and 90s London. Over Zoom, we spoke to Oliver about his film and TV influences and the persistent hard work of overcoming shame with art. Excerpts from a conversation…
When did the idea of a visual companion piece to Hideous Bastard come to you?
I began making the film at the same time I was making the music. They were happening simultaneously. I am glad I did it that way — because the whole process of making the album was inspired by the film and vice versa. I wrote the songs imagining they were movies.
They were written as scenes and narratives, with middles and ends. Half my reason for doing it was that I knew I was making music that was confessional and honest. I didn’t want to present it in a package that was overly earnest. Coming out of Covid, people don’t need to see a musician right now. They want fantasy, showmanship, and theatre.
Tell us about your relationship with horror growing up.
On paper, it doesn’t make sense that I would gravitate towards horror. I am a fearful person. But the horror doesn’t scare me. It excites me. I think horror has some of the best characters, be it in Monsters, The Final Girls or Scream Queens. As a little gay kid, these were the kind of characters I identified with or aspired to be. Like the monsters were seen as being different and had to be chased out of town, which was real anxiety I had about a secret I felt I was holding on to.
I was also drawn to female heroes like Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween and Sigourney Weaver in Alien, or even Buffy The Vampire Slayer. These women had beauty and femininity and yet could also be sexy and strong.
You’ve cited American Psycho, particularly the scene where Patrick Bateman is doing his skin routine, as an influence.
Before I saw American Psycho, I saw Psycho. I actually saw the Gus Van Sant version before I saw the original. I watched it with Jamie (Oliver’s bandmate and childhood friend), and I must admit I was way too young for it. I was like 12 or 13.
It’s funny because Norman Bates has quite a similar monologue when he’s finally in the prison cell. It’s in his mother’s voice (“they are probably watching me… I’m not even gonna swat that fly”). That monologue is very similar to Patrick Bateman peeling his mask and saying, “There is no real me…”
Talking of masks, how did you go about creating yours in Hideous?
Designing the monster with Yann was my favourite thing. I took inspiration from everything from the vampires in Buffy… to the creatures of Hammer House. Dan Martin (Trash Humpers, Possessor) did the prosthetics for the mask. Every morning it took me three hours to put it on and I loved every minute of it. It was like a childhood dream ticked off.
I enjoyed two cameos — Jamie as the boom operator who gets his guts spilled and Fehinti Balogun (Dune, I May Destroy You) as the talk show host
It was so much fun. I am not an actor but Jamie is definitely not an a
ctor. He’s a shy guy. So it was quite heartening that he was up for doing something that was campy and cartoonish. He wanted me to make it disgusting (laughs). He even practised his scream several times, which was tough for him. About Fehinti, I’d seen him in that awkward sex scene with two other men in I May Destroy You. Fehinti had really vulnerable eyes. Watching that scene, I felt really uncomfortable. I wanted to take care of him and protect him. I guess his eyes were my prompt to cast him in Hideous.
My favourite section in Hideous is where you sing ‘Fruit’ and a childhood version of you watches you on TV. It taps into our fantasy of being able to connect to our younger selves, maybe even move or inspire them in some way.
So much of my childhood was watching TV, waiting for moments I could relate to or that would feed my imagination. Especially that kiss between me and Fehenti... if I had seen it as a child, it would have really stoked my imagination for months. Growing up, I didn’t get the internet in my home till I was a teenager. The TV was my only connection to the future, the outer world, everything. I remember so well having one hand on the door in case my parents walked in (laughs).
Though it’s not the sole focus of it, you wanted to come out with your HIV diagnosis with Hideous. How do you feel now having shared this experience through your art?
I’m in a much better space than I was three years ago, when I wrote the songs. I haven’t experienced flipping-the-switch moments of suddenly feeling more free and liberated. But something like you and I being able to have this conversation… that was not possible three years ago. It’s certainly an indication of things changing. But I haven’t freed myself of all my shame. I still feel scared. I’m not a finished product. But that’s okay.