"I'm pretty sure we're hanging out in Brixton. Hopefully I won't embarrass myself."

Kooks’ forever young lead singer Luke Pritchard is reintroducing independent survivor and hard welfare host Richard Archer.

Both admit that in the 2000s, when each of them sold millions of records separately, it was a bit vague.

"But I think I'll remember you did something weird." The archer rested with confidence, all the looks and friendly Bondmi Dujisel.

“It’s weird because we’re all part of the same scene, but when you’re on the tour, everyone is like planets, orbiting and lying on each other.”

Kooks and 'FI were the center of the last great independent prosperity - the scene kicked off in 2002 when Libertines shocked the British guitar music after Britpop Slump.

Over the next six months, they joined behaviors like Franz Ferdinand, Chief Kaiser and Razorlight as they browsed to the top of the rankings.

Angle improvisation, clever lyrics and big hooked chorus are the order of the day.

By 2006, seven of the 10 best-selling new albums in the UK were produced by guitar bands, including the burning version of the Arctic Monkey, and no matter what people say I am, that's what I am not, and kooks'insion/inside insions of.

But the party cannot last forever.

In 2008, the term magazine coined the term “independent landfill”, describing the parade brought by the seemingly endless Intenikit Bloke, which chaoticized the radio waves.

Where do they all come from? Why can't you distinguish them? Why are they all called "something"?

Almost overnight, radio stations abandoned a new generation of forward-looking pop music (Lady Gaga, Florence + The Machine) and club-centric hip-hop (Black-Eyed Pea, Dizzee Rascal).

"It seems like there are four boys in four bands suddenly becoming very irrelevant," Archer said.

Pritchard agreed: “The opportunity in England is dry up.” “We are playing smaller venues and the atmosphere is no longer exciting.”

“To the point where we were just exhausted,” Archer continued. "It feels like we're screaming to the blank. So we stopped and tried something else."

In the 2010s, Hard-Fi's guitarist Ross Phillips revisited the tiles, while Archer formed the brief blues band Offworld.

But when he played an acoustic hard song during Covid, the reaction was big enough to draw the band back on the stage. A show on the London Forum sold out within minutes.

"The reaction was so warm. I was surprised," Archer said.

The show led to a full gathering. This summer, the band will be released for the 20th anniversary of the class consciousness, Mercury Award-nominated debut of CCTV stars, while preparing for a long-lasting fourth album.

Meanwhile, Kooks never disappeared, documenting more experimental albums that fuse drum loops, pastoral pop and even Ethiopian jazz influences.

But today, on hits like Naïve and Ooh La, the band is bigger than ever.

Later this year, they will make the first headlines in the O2 arena, with 18- to 24-year-olds accounting for 45% of the audience.

How do they explain this sudden revival?

“At that time, teenagers started going back to listen to music when their parents grew up,” Pritchard noted.

"In the 90s, we did it, and went back and found Nick Drake, so it had a round nature. The scene, even the fashion, came back."

But there are other things. Like Kooks' songs, she moves in her own way, and Hard-Fi is hard to beat, which will go missing in the 2010s - you can sing until hoarse.

"Yes, that kind of nice thing is removed from guitar music," Pritchard agreed. "People start consuming music on earbuds, so they are related to introspective things.

“But when we gather a small fan base in Brighton, we play all these small clubs and you filter the list of tables by whether people can sing.”

Archer recalls the ordeals of those early travels. He believes that in their first year, Hard-Fi was on the way "nearly 365 days".

But as a grassroots venue closes every two weeks in the UK, booking travel and road test songs has become increasingly difficult.

“What I worry about is if you are a new artist now, will you have a chance to go out and make mistakes and fix them?” the archer said.

A shrinking live scenario isn't the only turmoil in the industry.

Kooks' debut album sold 1.5 million copies in 2006, making it the fifth largest record of the year. Compared to 2024, the best-selling album in Britain at the time (Tormented Poets Department of Taylor Swift) sold only 600,000 copies.

Streams have nibble sales, turning every artist into a cult act. The opportunity to promote music is no longer helpful.

The only music TV show left is later... with Jools Holland, and weekly music magazines like NME are no longer - not everyone lamenting its demise.

“We’ve never been the best friends of NME,” Archer said with a smile.

"Who?" asked Prichard. “There are two or three anointed bands and the rest of us are eliminated.”

Do they have any comments on their memories?

"No, I've done a lot of work on this," Pritchard joked. "But I'm definitely more sensitive than I should."

"But why can't you?" asked the archer. “They criticize your sweaty blood and tears.”

In compiling CCTV Star Anniversary Edition, he discovered an old cut that critics say the band’s fans don’t understand the real music.

He said: "I kept it so I can take revenge in the future."

"You should frame it and put it in the toilet," Pritchard advises.

"Then I get angry every time the garbage dump."

But the music publisher was very powerful in the 2000s. Both exes recalled their pressure to live up to the ideals of NME's Kobe host.

Archer is a thoughtful and introspective character that even attracts people’s interest, and wants to be the biggest star in the world.

"I don't see the meaning of being another independent band," he boasted in an interview. "What is the meaning of being a narrow och and being a kid? I'm competing with Eminem."

Pritchard now reflects: “You have to be super confident and say provocative.”

“But what I learned is that many songwriters are introspective, isolated people – it’s challenging when you throw them in front of the camera.”

In hindsight, both of them emerged relatively unscathed from the 2000s and shared a new appreciation for their early records.

Especially the breathless pop music of Kooks’ first two albums from Pritchard’s new record released this week.

"I feel like I've lost my identity a little (because) I've been working with external producers," he said.

“So I went back and played all the records we were listening to when we started – not to repeat myself, but to regain my identity.”

The result is an album, a festive set perfect for summer travel and sunbathing, with vibrant melodies and timeless guitar grooves.

Archer is in a similar place, and a new album is inspired by the CD-ROM that he sent to his ex-girlfriend last year.

So, does the band have a five-year plan?

"Absolutely - but it's locked in my security," Pritchard said with a smile. “I think it’s good to have a goal!”

"Are you really?" asked the archer, frowning.

“I literally don’t know what to eat for lunch.”