Overmono brothers Tom and Ed Russell on performing live: 'We have the chance to play our tracks in different ways'
They may be a decade apart in age, but brothers Tom and Ed Russell are on the same wavelength in their guise as electronic duo Overmono. In the wake of a hit debut album and deep into their US tour, we spoke to them about stolen records and emotional vets

When Overmono released their debut album at the beginning of this summer, the duo’s first instinct was to follow it up with a track so ragged that it would never have fitted on Good Lies. ‘I remember reading years ago about how to recreate the sound of a blown-out speaker,’ says Ed Russell. ‘It’s got a really specific sound. It’s raspy. You hear the air ripping through it. We were like, let’s do a bassline that has that sound.’
The resulting single, ‘Blow Out’, is a mile-a-minute track, propelled by its dizzying mix of thudding bass, percussive synth and a spliced rap sample. It aptly demonstrates the genre-splintering which Overmono specialise in, drawing from Ed’s breakbeat background as Tessela, and his brother Tom’s techno alias, Truss. When we speak, they’re in the US studio where that track was finished before it debuted at this April’s Coachella.
.jpg)
It’s since become a mainstay of their sets, which have blazed a trail across the festival and club circuit; a gratifying result for the two brothers, who previously felt disenchanted by dance music’s proclivity for tribalism. ‘Unless Ed put a breakbeat in his tracks, his fanbase didn’t want to know,’ says Tom. ‘If I didn’t put distorted kick drum on my tracks, mine wouldn’t either.’ It was a far cry from the anything-goes attitude that defined Overmono’s youth in rural south Wales, removed from the micro scenes which dominated larger cities.
Growing up in Monmouth, over an hour’s drive from the nearest record store, Tom and Ed learned to make their own fun. Tom set up a night in the local pub (complete with luminous string hung from the ceiling to mimic lasers) where his friends could share music every Saturday. ‘It meant a lot to people back then,’ he recalls. ‘The only other thing to do was have a few beers, get a kebab and have a fight.’ In summer, they pooled their resources for a generator and hosted parties in the local quarry. ‘It was a naive time but looking back I feel privileged to have had that space to be into everything,’ Tom continues. ‘Handbag house, garage, trance, hardcore, whatever . . . we filtered it all.’

Ed became fascinated by the ‘alien’ noises drifting from his older brother’s bedroom. ‘Tom had turntables and loads of records, and I’d hear the music through the walls of our house,’ he says. When he was ten, Ed held a stall in the car park next door to raise funds for some decks. Tom came down to support the cause, only to find his own CDs on sale. ‘I got enough money to buy turntables, but then didn’t have any to buy records. Whenever Tom was out, I’d go into his room and steal his.’ Yet there was no actual sibling rivalry. Aged 13, Ed sat Tom down in the pub and grilled him over everything he knew about mixing. ‘From then on, we became super tight,’ he says. ‘I was hoovering up everything from Tom.’
The brothers returned to this remote setting years later in search of a detox from their ‘hemmed-in’ careers in London. Packing as much gear as they could, they drove to a cottage in Wales, where they let loose for a week. ‘That was really liberating,’ says Ed. ‘I remember one day there was a massive storm. We’re looking out over this amazing scenery and writing tunes with a huge woozy rolling synth.’ Listening to their recordings on the drive back, it became clear they had hit on something unique. They drew up a list of dream labels, with XL at the top. ‘They were into it,’ says Ed.
.jpg)
Overmono have replicated that set-up several times since, venturing as far as the Isle Of Skye to create music together. In the studio, they fall naturally into complementary roles, with Tom layering trance-adjacent melodies over Ed’s chopped breaks and tweaked vocals. One thing they tend not to repeat, though, is their creative process. ‘Pure chaos it is . . . always,’ says Tom. ‘Whenever we get in a studio, it’s about trying to be as carefree and playful as possible.’
‘We always want to feel like we’re moving forward,’ adds Ed. ‘Let’s not get too stuck in our ways. Let’s keep switching it up. It keeps it exciting to be like, “what if we plug that into that?”’
Samples form a fundamental backbone to Overmono’s sound, gleaned from the depths of Bandcamp and pitched into a bittersweet tone. Unusually, they have a preference for sampling newer music; another example of irreverence towards unwritten rules. ‘There was one forum called Dogs On Acid,’ Ed says. ‘There was a rule there that you’re only allowed to sample something if it’s over 15 years old.’ Ed took that as a gospel for years. ‘Then you’re like, hang on a minute, why?’ he says. ‘You realise, just do what sounds good.’
‘The same sample sources that so many people have used over the years have a nostalgic quality,’ adds Tom. ‘We don’t want to make music that sounds like it’s been made 20 years ago.’

Doberman dogs have also become inseparable from the brothers’ aesthetic. ‘99% of the time when you see a Doberman in an image, they’ve got their ears pricked up and their tails docked,’ says Tom. ‘That’s human involvement. They’re made to look mean.’ There’s a comparison to be made between the dogs and the brothers, each embracing their natural state and disrupting expectations. ‘A vet came up to us after a gig last year, and she was actually tearful,’ Tom continues. ‘She’s like, “thanks so much for not putting Dobermans on the cover with the ears and docked tails.’’’
The live show is where Overmono come into their own, combining visuals, shedloads of gear and a propensity for improvisation. With so much activity onstage, there’s a feeling the brothers could lose control at any moment with a missed cue here or an accidental bongo loop there; it’s something they happily lean into. ‘We have the chance to play our tracks in different ways,’ says Ed. ‘Maybe an early version would be a bit raw on the radio, then it gets finessed.’ Tracks heard in new contexts, in front of crowds of thousands, are reforged in situ then finished in the hotel, fuelled by the performance’s afterglow. ‘So much of our music ends up coming from those times,’ continues Ed. ‘You’re sitting in bed until 5am working on a beat, then you’re like, “we’ve got to get up in an hour for the flight.’’’
With no signs of their output slowing down, talk of the next album is already afoot; but Overmono are currently enjoying the freedom of downtime. ‘The direction at the moment is pretty much everywhere,’ says Ed. ‘We’re writing everything from super gnarly, blown-out stuff to very melodic.’ When the time does come, Overmono will head for another cottage in the wilderness. Where they choose to go from there remains to be seen.
Overmono tour until Wednesday 25 October.
