
At just 24, actor-musician has seemingly done it all. After a childhood spent appearing on the boards of West End productions like and , Croft’s acting career led him to the set of the nation’s beloved TV shows, where he played a young in Game of Thrones and more recently starred as antagonist e. This year, Croft accepted the tempestuous challenge of playing himself in Celebrity Traitors, alongside a star-studded cast including Jerry Hall and Richard E Grant, a role he tells Clash he’s all too keen to explore further.
It’s this spirit of self-exploration that runs right through his newly-released single, ‘Everything Always Now’, the latest taste of his upcoming EP ‘The Great Forever’ (out November 13th). Charting the star’s first love and heartbreak through a distinctive pop sound, the record comes with a seal of approval from none other than Pär Wiksten of The Wannadies, whose 90s hit ‘You & Me Song’ Croft’s latest single samples. What’s more, he’s the only musician to have done so with Wiksten’s blessing. Big deal. Wanting to know more about his music and get the low-down on industry whispers of the star’s brand-new podcast, Sunday Scaries, CLASH caught up with the actor and musician to find out why forever doesn’t always have to mean ‘forever’ and why the favourite role he’s played so far isn’t a fictional character but instead no one but himself.
Your newly released single ‘Everything Always Now’ samples ‘You & Me Song’ by The Wannadies. What about this song made you want to put your own spin on it?
For me, the melody is just so nostalgic. That was the song that Baz Luhrmann chose to play in his Romeo and Juliet, where the two protagonists kiss for the first time, which is not only iconic but, in that film, Leonardo DiCaprio was at his peak hotness. He set the 90s curtain trend in hair, which is still here today. It doesn’t get any hotter than that… obviously I’m only semi-kidding, but really for me, it’s just the nostalgia of it; of the sound and all the great cultural moments that the song is associated with. This single is part of my upcoming debut EP, ‘The Great Forever’, which I’ve been working on for ages, and it just works. It’s about the concept of forever not actually existing and me getting over this great first love I thought was going to last forever, so there’s something nice in including this song as part of that, but by putting my own spin on it and subverting it.
What was that process like getting approval from The Wannadies to sample it? How did it all come about?
There was no pressure on the song because the EP was already done. It was very much like ‘What would happen if I wrote a love song and used one of the most iconic ‘I am in love’ melodies in the UK’. I wrote it and then sent it to Pär Wiksten from The Wannadies, and was very much expecting him to be like ‘absolutely not’. Not only did he sign off on it, but we also did a Zoom call together, and he was so generous. He said to me, ‘It’s just so exciting to see that 30 years later, someone has taken a part of this song but kept its same feeling.’ Getting total approval from the person whose song you’re referencing is an amazing feeling; people don’t often get that, so it’s very special. He also told me that lots of people over the years have tried to interpret that song, but he felt none of them actually captured its essence, so he never signed off on the final interpretations. He’s such a legend, and having his blessing is a real highlight of this whole experience.
Also, something I only found out when speaking with him was that the album ‘You & Me Song’ is from is called ‘Be A Girl’, which was a response to the language used in the music industry in the 1990s, such as ‘Man Up’ or ‘Be a Man’, and he was like, ‘Fuck That, Be a Girl’… this is 1993, mind. I think that statement still carries the same punch as it did then. You know, that’s someone who speaks the same language as me and someone whose perspective I not only share but whose world I really relate to.
Can you tell me more about the concept of ‘The Great Forever’ and where the idea for the EP came from?
Truthfully, my first breakup was the smoking gun that made me an artist. I had always written songs, but after that breakup, I felt it was no longer enough to write down my feelings; I wanted to build on them, create a world for them to live in, and figure out what they sound like. So that was the beginning, really. It was through that initial writing process I realised that a lot of what I was doing was processing and mourning the fact that this thing – this relationship – I thought would last forever, didn’t. It was the breaking of this word ‘forever’ that had been so core to us two as a couple. Halfway through the process, when I’d written quite a few songs, I went back and found a scrapbook that I had made for my ex. It was a picture book titled ‘The Great Forever’, which was our story up until that point. As a sort of nod to this idea of ‘forever’, it was really important to me that there were 8 songs in total, which is quite big for an EP but still not really an album, and so this sits somewhere in between. Another thing is that 8 felt like the perfect number; it’s also the infinity symbol, which feeds into this idea of forever.
So ‘The Great Forever’ was actually a term you both used while in the relationship?
Yeah, it was. I had forgotten all about it, but I remember being in the car, thinking about what I was going to call the EP and seeing this scrapbook and its ‘The Great Forever’ title… I remember thinking, ‘that’s it’. It felt full circle because so many of the songs coincidentally have the word ‘forever’ in them.
When you’re writing a script for a story, you have the plot and the characters, but you also have an underlying philosophical meaning that speaks to what the film is about. Whether you’re conscious of it or not, it doesn’t really matter; all the great films have one, with a philosophical worldview that shifts over the course of the film. It was only then that I realised the philosophical underpinning of this EP was that I was questioning that term: ‘What is forever?’ Nothing lasts. Everything has an end point. We probably won’t be on this floating rock forever. How do we find meaning knowing that? That’s what this album is about.
It’s strange because this EP came at the same time I’ve been falling in love again, and that’s a really surreal feeling. What does it mean to start to feel excited about someone when you’ve spent so long mourning something else? I now know I don’t want to say this is ‘going to last forever’, because I don’t believe in forever. But I do believe in the here and now. My ex will always be my first love, and that’s a beautiful thing. It’s nice to wrap it all up with this EP.
You’ve said in the past that you’ve been writing songs since age 10. How has your songwriting approach changed now that there is a public relationship with your music?
Songwriting is such a personal reflection that no one really understands because if they did, it wouldn’t be what it is. There’s something incredible about that. The fun thing for me at this stage is that because the music is so new, it’s still finding its audience. There are no expectations and nothing to live up to, which is so exciting and liberating. One thing I will say is, the act of putting music out has been so important for me. For so long, I’d done the writing bit, and I’d even done the developmental stage, but releasing music and then having to live with it, having to get on a stage and play it… that was something I’d never done. I think it does a service to the music to go through the whole process and complete the cycle, and it’s also fuelled my ability to know what I want to make next. It was only when I was on stage last year that I realised I wanted to make pop songs because I wanted to have fun with the audience. I never would have known that if I didn’t go public with my music; it all contributes to the songwriting process.
You told Rolling Stone that you don’t want to make queer music but rather pop music through a queer lens. Why is that distinction important to you?
Pop music has inherently and predominantly been a space for queer people to express themselves. I think of icons like George Michael and Elton John… sure, their queerness came out in their art because you can’t escape who you are, but they weren’t necessarily able to be public about it. Then came an era when it was so important to carve out a space for queer identity within pop culture that it got boxed into this very specific category, and there is nothing wrong with that. I guess what I feel is I want to make music from a queer perspective, but I don’t want it to be pigeonholed into that box that society has decided is exclusively queer. I want to make pop songs – and they will be inherently queer because I am, and therefore everything I touch is a little bit gay; that’s how it works – but I don’t want my music ever to be even more specified than what it already is, which is pop. We should just take the art for what it is. It’s important to me as an intention because even if you’re walking into a room, people grab onto such specific terminology so they can understand you. Suddenly you’ve been cornered into this space. That doesn’t necessarily need to be the headline about my work.
Obviously, you’re currently part of a huge national television show: Celebrity Traitors. How has this experience differed from your other acting roles in Game of Thrones and Heartstopper? Did you watch the show before you were asked to appear?
I’ve always been a massive fan of the show. I played Traitors for my birthday last year, so it’s very true to what I love. The experience itself is totally different to anything I’ve ever known. This is the first time I’ve appeared on television without playing a character; it’s just me. It’s the same with putting my music out: it’s the first time I am appearing in the public eye as myself, not a character in a show, and there’s something quite fun about that… It’s also terrifying, but I always try to do things that scare me a little bit. And the idea of going on The Traitors was terrifying, the idea of putting music out is terrifying, and then you go ok: ‘If that’s the thing that scares you, that’s the thing that you have to do’.
Was music always the end goal for you? Do you prefer it to acting?
Well, I’ve always fantasised about it, but I wouldn’t say it was ‘the end goal’. It wasn’t like I had my life mapped out and 2026 was the year I was going to make the jump from acting to music. I’ve always written music, and I think there was this breaking point where I had this realisation of ‘If I died… I wouldn’t have made a proper mark on the world’. Music is part of my identity, and it’s so new and exciting to me because of that. I guess, in this chapter of my life, what I’m enjoying the most is pushing myself. I love music, and I also love performing in front of people.
Do you think about what your music will bring to people? Your own break-up inspired this album – do you think of it as a ‘break-up’ anthem?
No, I wouldn’t say so. It’s very much about my own journey and coming to terms with the fact that it didn’t last. What I am most excited for is for other people to find their own meanings in my music; some of which may have nothing to do with what I was singing about. People find their own connections to things, and that’s what makes us unique. If I dictate what a song should mean, then it loses its place. Truthfully, I am just excited for my music to be there for people to find because for so long it just sat there on my phone. They’re very personal songs to me, so the thought that anyone else would have any relationship with my music at all is truly the coolest thing in the world.
Apparently you also have a new podcast coming out? Tell us more!
It’s called Sunday Scaries, which is something I suffer from every week. It’s taken me so long to learn how to navigate them, and only recently did I realise, ‘I’m going to feel them anyway no matter what I do, so why not start a podcast’. I want it to feel like an episode of Friends; the world is so overwhelming at the moment, and I think the thing about Sunday Scaries is that it allows us to all feel that without the shame attached to it. Also, I’ve really loved getting to be myself recently, which is what The Traitors allowed for, and I wanted a small pocket where I can keep being myself. The whole premise is that I’m joined by a guest each week, and we talk about the week before and break down the week ahead. We also have a Sunday Scaries Hotline, which is where people call in and leave something on the answering machine… It’s to help us all realise everyone has different versions of: ‘I’m going to get fired because I haven’t done the presentation’ or ‘I didn’t put a wash on, and now I don’t have any underwear’.
Whatever it is, it’s about dropping the dread. Consider it an antidote to your Sunday scaries – why spiral on your own when we can all spiral together?