Backstage at Signature Brew before supporting Enter Shikari, Native James chats through the Kingston comedown, the weight of his first Download, and why every show is one of one.

Words & photos by Felix Bartlett (@bartlettfelixhc) | April 30, 2026

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There’s a Prodigy track playing somewhere off in the distance, the late afternoon light is doing something flattering to the loading bay, and AJ is standing on a small hill behind Signature Brew trying to put into words what it feels like to be 24 hours removed from a sold-out Kingston show and minutes away from sharing a stage with Enter Shikari. He doesn’t quite manage it. That’s kind of the point.

“If I can put it into words, I don’t know, man, it’s insane,” he says. “To be able to support such a band that is so legendary. Full circle from when you’re a kid listening to this band thinking, one day I’d love this band to notice or see what I can do, and then to be on that stage. It’s insane.”

Last night was Kingston. Tonight is east London. In a few weeks it’s Download. The trajectory of Native James, the project AJ has spent the last two years building into one of the UK alternative scene’s most talked-about live propositions, has been near vertical, and he knows it.

“Everyone went mental,” he says of the previous evening. “I’m just so excited to be here, man.”

“People don’t have to choose me. People have chosen that it can be. You can’t buy that in the shop.”

What lands quickly, talking to AJ, is that none of this is being taken for granted. He keeps coming back, again and again, to the audience that has decided, over two short years, that Native James is something worth showing up for.

“People don’t have to choose me. They don’t have to listen to my music. They didn’t have to say, you know what, I think this is going to be something. And people have chosen that it can be. For that to be in someone’s perspective, in their mind, that’s priceless. It’s a priceless feeling, because you’re not just getting opinions for the sake of opinions. People truly care and feel. And this is what I do this for. For the people, for their souls.”

He pauses, then adds: “That psychological change, or someone wanting to follow you as a person. You can’t buy that in the shop.”

Native James as a brand, as a project, as whatever it is becoming, has been clear from day one about what it stands for. The clue is in the name.

“People need an outlet,” AJ says. “People need to feel wrong. Sometimes you don’t like it, but when you come into connectivity, you know deep down that that’s what it truly is. That’s what we wanted to give to the people. Raw, authentic, and on the sleeve. The brand is what it says it is. As are you. As is everyone. Everyone is a native.”

The shows, then, function less as gigs and more as temporary safe-rooms with mosh pits attached. “It’s about giving people that space to be whoever they want to be, whoever they can be, even if just for that 30 minutes. Make them feel like they can be whatever, take accountability, and there’s no judgement. They can be raw. They can be their true selves. They don’t have to look upon anyone for that acceptance. As soon as you enter, you’re already accepted.”

“Every show is one of one. You can’t replicate something that is raw.”

The last time we crossed paths was at Shacklewell Arms, a venue several orders of magnitude smaller than tonight’s room and miles from the size of stage Native James will be standing on at Donington this summer. AJ doesn’t grade his shows by capacity.

“Who are us to measure the price of a soul?” he says, and it isn’t rhetorical. “You’re not a token when you come to the show. You’re not a pound sign. People come to feel and to hear and to learn and to understand themselves.”

This philosophy translates directly into the live show. There is no A-set and B-set. There is no town that gets a phoned-in version. There is, in AJ’s words, only ever the room you are in.

“Every show is one of one. I was literally explaining this to my drummer today. You can’t replicate something that is raw. I don’t want someone to come to the show and have me do it the same as last time, because it’s not going to be the same as last time. I’m not going to feel the same as last time. We’re different people.”

Native James plays Download Festival this summer for the first time. AJ has never been to Download Festival, full stop. He is not approaching it as a debut so much as a milestone in something he is still mid-build on.

“I don’t just want to play Download,” he says. “I want to play Download. Let’s make history. We’ve got special guests as well. I can’t tell you who they are, but we got special guests. We want to make this moment a checkpoint, a mark, a milestone, to say Native James is here to stay. We’re not going nowhere. I am Native James. I am not going nowhere.”

He shakes his head, partly at the magnitude of what he’s saying, partly at the magnitude of what is actually happening. “I’ve never been to Download, ever in my life. After last year, we just done Glastonbury, to now play the biggest rock festival in the UK. If I told myself this two, three years ago, I’d have said you’re chatting absolute shit. But it’s managed to be that, and now we are that.”

He’s also, he wants to make clear, paying close attention to who has been in his corner. “Thank you to everyone that has been posting up saying people should go check out Native James. I didn’t know we had like that much support and love. It’s been insane to see how many people are really backing the vision.”

“More music. More pits. More energy. More accountability. More rawness. Every single fucking day.”

As the interview winds down and the sun sets before the evening unfolds I ask the obvious last question “what can we expect next” and he answers it like he answers everything else, which is to say without a second of hesitation.

“More music. More pits. More energy. More accountability. More rawness. Every single fucking day. We don’t expect to stop. We’re only just gonna get bigger. The plans and visions that I have, oh my gosh.”

“All I’m saying is be ready. Welcome to the realm. This is the new world. This is the coven. Trust me. And all of you people are invited.”

Then he’s off down the hill, towards the stage, towards Enter Shikari, towards Donington, towards whatever the new world ends up looking like. The Prodigy is still playing in the background. He’s right. You can’t put a price on it.

Native James plays Download Festival this summer.