The unseasonably cheery weather in London had retreated into its classic grey sulk. I was early, as usual, and sat outside a church a few streets from where I was meant to meet the band Hot Stamp. I sat going over my questions to kill some time.
I’d opted to meet them at their father’s home, nestled in a leafy suburb of North London, just west of Camden. I was slightly nervous and admitted it outright. It’s not often you interview two sisters, especially not two as sure of themselves as Jasmine and Poppy, the girls of the up-and-coming indie band Hot Stamp.
Welcomed into the home by their father and their dog, Scruffles, I sat across the dining table from them, cradling a mug of tea. The girls had played a somewhat difficult show the previous night and admitted they were a bit out of sorts. Gliding past the transparent bifold doors like colourful beads of light, I saw them rush to get ready, mentally scolding myself for being so early.
Laptop open, recorder listening, the two of them spoke slowly, but without caution, deliberate and unguarded. When speaking with artists in the past, I’d noted either utter indifference to the situation or a performatively confident nature. The sisters were neither. Saying that, you’d be surprised to find out the band only has one single out, titled “Josephine”. Jasmine and Poppy carry themselves with a rare clarity and a refined understanding of who they are for such new artists.
Everything from their social media presence to the colours of their respective iconic pink and blonde hair, which, as I found out later, were not wigs, is calculated. I questioned that hyper Specificity. “Do you ever clash with people, you know, being so particular?”
Poppy: “Sometimes it can be misread as being blunt. I’m so used to telling Jasmine if I don’t like something that sometimes it can be quite hard to work with new people”.
They admitted that their social presence played a big part in their “lore”. I found their dedication to their image a testament to modern media literacy and the ability to understand the steps needed to become a real pop star. However, I did question the authenticity of it all. To have such a curated image, was it all just that…image? The pair believe “it’s simply who we are”.
Perhaps their media literacy was formed from growing up enmeshed with social media. As kids,they spent their time editing images and videos for fan accounts, which may explain why they see how they’re perceived as an extension of their internal personalities. Looking at their only current single, it’s clear to see the band’s early 2010s electro pop influence. Whilst it’s hard to pin down the exact meaning of a song, the sisters described it as a “murder pop anthem”, one Of theatre and drama, admitted Jasmine.
The mythology around sibling bands like these has long been documented, from The Kinks’ infamous rivalry to the very public Oasis feud, and may I add, subsequent incredibly successful world tour. However, the sisters are honest about their differences, instead playing into their strengths and “meeting in the middle”. Whilst both are heavily involved in the writing and production of the work, Jasmine sees herself more on the entertaining side, as a singer whose theatrical vision pushes the band towards a sonic art project. While Poppy is just asembodied in the process, she feels more grounded, preferring the structure of a song to be rooted in real interactions, focusing on how the song feels and sounds, rather than anything imaginary. Both instinctively push it forward, but each differently refining it to its endpoint.
That same balance extends into their influences as well. Poppy spent her teens “extracting sonic information” from her time working at a deep cut record shop in Camden, the birthplace of punk rock and artists such as Amy Winehouse and The Clash. But in the years since their inception, Hot Stamp has evolved from its humble punk beginnings, taking influence from various art forms, not just musicians, whether it’s theatre productions, movies, or magazine covers. On one hand, a punk band with indie influence, on the other, a Gaga-fied panto of colour and electricity.
Now, saying that, genre-bending isn’t necessarily a new theme; however, I did question if it was something the band saw as an ever-evolving art piece or whether they’d found their final style. They paused before answering, each of them recentering in their chairs, perhaps interpreting the scale of the question.
“We don’t know where we’ll be in 10 years, but we know we’re doing what we enjoy, and that’s enough for now.” And likewise, that answer was good enough for me.
What is clear is the band’s hunger for artistic credibility. Balancing full-time jobs, complex choreographed rehearsals, and live performances, they are building something that screams intention. That tension, between ambition and limitation, seems to feed directly into the project. Their blend of electro punk is as DIY as it is a confrontational, futuristic escape. Perhaps less disillusioned than its punk roots, their take on the sound is as hopeful as it is evolving, a craving for something bigger than they currently have.
We sat for around two hours chatting. The girls passed a cigarette between each other in an almost Shining-esque synchronicity. After we’d finished the interview, the girls took me into their home studio, a small nook of their father’s flat, walls adorned with electric guitars and sound-dampening foam. On a shelf in the corner sat rows of music-related books: The Life of Keith Moon, David Bowie Changed by Chris Welch, and The British Hit Singles and Albums.
Pulling this final title out of the shelf, the girls remarked on its significance when they were choosing the name for theband. “Hot Stamp” does not come from the book itself, but the name feels like an ode to the sisters retracing their musical roots, creating something new that still sings like bands of the past.
Having looked through their artist playlists on Spotify, I can see their references: La Roux, Prince, and New Order. Artists like Prince understood that image wasn’t simply branding, but total narrative control. Their image gives them authorship over their sound, the idea that the way you move, talk, dress, and even think is inseparable from what you make. Now, by no means am I comparing the sisters to Prince, but in more ways than one, they understand what he pioneered: the idea that once you control your image, you can begin to shape your future.
Their music harks back to a decade of more experimental pop. The use of synths and melodic guitar riffs catches the coattails of artists like Robyn and Imogen Heap, while an airy bass guitar subtly drives everything forward. There’s a reason this specific generation of pop music refuses to go out of fashion – partly nostalgia, partly because it allows people to let loose to it.
After the shoot, we sat around the living room chatting. Over gin and tonics, our stylist, Henry and Sophie, the hair stylist, and the girls gossiped amongst each other. I felt out of touch as they recounted stories from shows and fleeting brushes with recognition or stardom I had no reference point for.
Now, I wish I could give you a hook, tell you that one of them threw their mug across the room in some passionate music-led bust-up, but that’s simply not true. I felt like I’d been let into their world, only to press my face against the window, leaving it feeling slightly more distant than before. Meeting the sisters was both refreshing and disarming, and perhaps that distance was intentional, a trick to get me to buy into whatever fantasy they were selling. But, honestly, it felt like the early signs of something more insular; the sisters are building a world around themselves, one I was briefly allowed into, one that doesn’t resemble anything else out right now.
One that I felt compelled to follow.
