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Oxford-born, and Cambridge, England-raised Robin Skinner, better known as Cavetown, has been a consistent and essential voice in the lives of his fans for nearly a decade. His diaristic, experience-driven storytelling has chronicled his formative years as a teenager starting out on YouTube and Bandcamp through to adulthood, and his music has shifted accordingly. From the youthful yet curious disposition and incisive poeticism of breakout tunes such as “Devil Town” and “Boys Will Be Bugs” to the musical ferocity of work from his latest album, Running With Scissors, Cavetown continues to expand both his sonic palette and artistic expectations. 

Running With Scissors explores a grungier, most tenacious side of Cavetown that had previously minutely explored but never fully committed to, featuring songs like “Cryptid,” “NPC,” “Straight Through My Head (DO IT!!!),” “Tarmac,” and “Sailboat” with friend and collaborator chloe moriondo. “Micah” tests the limits of CT’s vocal flexibility and displays his ability to maintain a low vocal profile atop an intensified instrumental, while others, like “Rainbow Girl,” “Skip,” and the underrated “No Bark, No Bite” blend CT’s singer-songwriter tendencies with audacious experimentation. Though constant repetition and light, utilitarian training assist in his ability to push the envelope. 

Latest release “Big Strong Man", discussed in depth amid a recent tour rehearsal conversation over Zoom, is slated to be included on a deluxe edition of the record sometime in 2027. From an aesthetic perspective, the tune manages to find the middle ground of all facets of the project. “I’ve got at least two other songs I’m working on that I’m really excited about,” he said, on the forthcoming edition. 

Almost as if it were a rite of passage with the release of a rock record, he spent time on the road with his idols, Pierce The Veil, earlier this year, soaking up lessons from both musical and business perspectives. “Apart from my own, I’ve never seen such a caring crew,” he said. “It was quite refreshing. I also wanted to learn about the touring practices from within the crew.” Now, he’ll pay it forward by taking moriondo, whose shift from pop to alternative is well-documented, out on the road with him.

His move to NYC just around two years ago has proven to be a fruitful venture, as his creative juices have been enhanced by the sheer number of other creatives and art found on all corners. He spoke of it luminously, providing the lengthiest answer of the chat, found below, in response to the query of, “Has the city impacted your creativity?”

Last December, he hosted a fundraising event at Music Hall of Williamsburg in support of his This is Home Project, an organization providing financial aid, housing resources, and mental healthcare access for queer youth, with 100% of proceeds gifted to these causes. 

Openly trans, CT is dedicated to uplifting and serving the LGBTQ+ community, and expressed he will likely look into repeating the event in 2027. “I’m going to try and take it easy over the holidays,” he said. “Next year is still kind of a question mark for me, but I want to explore more avenues that exist in what I’m capable of. Some of that will involve charity work, which I love.”

OnesToWatch: You’ve said that your songs are “full of things that are hard to admit.” As you’ve progressed through your career thus far, what are the differences between the hard things you’re writing about now vs the hard things from 5-7 years ago? 

Cavetown: Great question! I write about it because it’s hard to say, and through writing about it, saying it becomes easier. Easier to open up about through both hearing it back as I’m writing it, and having a bit more grace and sympathy for myself. Also, something I never anticipated was that other people felt that too. Other people would hear these words and say, “You explained something in a way I never thought I’d hear from someone else.” So, through making other people feel less alone in that feeling, it makes me feel less alone in it. It’s nice to play these old songs that came from a dark, lonely place, and I still feel that when I sing them, but there’s a silver lining of comfort knowing that the kid who wrote it would grow to perform it to a bunch of people who understood what it’s like. The stuff I write now is still hard to admit, but I write it in the context of knowing that I’m never alone in a feeling. The human experience has so much to it. 

Is there a song or artist that has done that for you? 

I listened to a lot of music, and relied on a lot for support, but, a big band for me has always been Pierce The Veil. I always related to their lyrics, and thought they were so cutting. So deeply meaningful, in a “if you know you know” type of way. Which, I think I try to touch on with my lyrics. A signal out into the vast ocean of people. I’ve been able to keep my connection with them by working with them later in my career, which has been really phenomenal. When I get to watch them live, it still feels like I’m a teenager being like, “Oh my GOD, someone finally understands me.” 

Were you sitting on the side of the stage every night of this past tour watching them, trying to learn? 

Yeah! I tried to catch it as much as I could. Their show is so cool to watch from the back of the room, and their stage energy is unreal. You underestimate how much you have EMOTE from the stage for it to come across the way you want from the audience, so we took a lot of mental notes about how they interact with each other onstage, how they use the space, and how big their emotions are. 

A song like “Tarmac” sees you stretch your range, very minimally, to what I’d call the “Conan Gray area.” How long did it take for you to harness that kind of range, and do you feel like there’s a certain element of restraint to holding back and only using it at certain moments? 

My voice has taken a real journey. I started testosterone in 2016-17, and before then, I was doing vocal exercises to deepen my range. So, by the time I started hormones, my voice was settling in there, but I did a lot of work to manage where my new registers were. For a long time, I wanted to follow my body and listen to how I was feeling so that I didn’t hurt myself. I only really felt settled into where my voice is now in the last one or two years. I lost bits of my upper and lower range. Now, I feel like my whole voice is available to me. It has taken me a long time to get that high register back and develop a blended tone. It still feels fragile, but I’ve learned that the fragility comes from a lack of confidence. 

How do you go about recording vocals for a song like “Big Strong Man” knowing that the instrumental will be heavier? 

With songs like that are more indie acoustic adjacent, I allow it to be softer in the recording. We’re going to come into rehearsals and play it heavier, so I’ll need to find new vocal placement. We’ve been rehearsing “Big Strong Man,” and “Micah” as well, which also uses more of my high register. It doesn’t make sense to sing it as softly as I do when I record. I’m basically whispering it. The way I can access that register, at the moment, is pretending like someone is asleep in the room with me and I have to be as quiet as possible. That doesn’t translate onstage with all the bleed into the mic. So, leaning into more of a belt pokes through better and feels more supported. And it just feels bigger and more exciting for the audience. 

“Micah” was not included in the set of your most recent run of shows. Will you be playing it? 

Yes, definitely! We just didn’t have time for all the songs on this last set. If any of them had gone, I would have been upset, but I really wish we’d played it. It’s really challenging for me vocally, so we’ve transposed it down, and also. There's no room to breathe in it, which is greatttttt for me. It’s so fun. I love singing it, and I love talking about Micah, my little sibling. 

If you’ve seen the comments and conversation on the video for BSM connecting the lyrics to “10 Feet Tall,” which is almost a decade old now, how does that feel as a creative to know that your fans are so locked into the lore of what you’ve written? 

It’s really cool to know that something I wrote at that age could still be relevant to people in their lives now. It’s funny, cause I find it hard to listen to that stuff. I feel cringe about my voice and my production. Every time I make something, I raise the bar for myself, so I’m very critical when I go back and listen to these old songs. Singing about an experience I had from around the time of “10 Feet Tall” or “Boys Will Be Bugs", I’m glad it’s hitting that same nerve for people, because it’s what I intended. I wanted to feel nostalgic. My current brain's perspective on a “BWBB” story, I suppose. 

Is there a song from your early catalog that you can look back on and NOT feel as cringe? 

There are definitely a handful, and there are ones we’ve adapted so much over the years that are completely different. “Devil Town” is one I find really hard to listen to, because that’s REALLY baby voice for me, and the production is really scrappy. That’s the charm of that song, but the live version is so much more metal, so much more fun. Everyone connects to it during the set, so that’s one I have a soft spot for. “Sweet Tooth” is still in the set. I still really like that one, and “Juliet.” 

What song from this project has gotten the biggest live bolster? 

With all of my other records, there were a lot of rockifying things, because that’s where I was moving with my band. But with RWS, I wrote it with the band in mind, so a lot of it is quite similar to the record. “Big Strong Man” is acoustic forward, so we’ve nudged that one to be more rock band style. “Straight To My Head” has gotten epic light production, and has gotten really hyped from the audience. 

Will we ever see a full version of “No Bark, No Bite”? It’s so lyrically distinct from the rest of them  

That’s so funny. The story I’m trying to tell is one that I’m not trying to bury, which is why it’s so short. I forgot about that song, actually! It’s not in this set, but thanks for reminding me. I want to give that one some airtime at some point. 

The tie-in of the title track and “NPC” is really interesting in terms of you viewing people outside of your circle in a certain way. What was that inspired by? 

I suppose it’s the dissociative theme, especially in “NPC.” Sometimes I feel like I’M the “NPC.” I feel like I’m just a character in the world, and those songs are inspired by that feeling. Feeling disconnected from the world, or like everyone else is understanding something that I don’t get. Like they have a chip in their brain that makes them know what to do with life, and I’m just like… a CELL walking around figuring it out. It was also inspired by an imaginary friend I had as a child. His deal was that he was never around, away on a business trip. but that he existed. Mr. Nobody. I was thinking of him a year or so ago while I was doing some writing, and I was like, “That’s kind of me now!” It made me feel more connected to my brain as a consistent thing that has always been in my life. It made me wonder about him too. How’s the job? How’s the wife? A little bit of nostalgia and current anxieties around my life just moves so fast. 

Besides writing, do you have other ways of processing that feeling of thinking everyone is walking around with that chip? 

Writing seems to be the main way I can convince my brain to say what it’s feeling, but I’ve been working on just talking about it with my friends more, especially on this tour. It has been a really stressful couple of weeks, but I just need to realize that these guys are my friends, and I can be open with them. I don’t have to be having a great time all the time. I talk to friends, my girlfriend, I go to therapy. I’m making more space in my life for other creative ventures that I want to nurture. 

Has moving to New York inspired your creativity in different ways? 

Yeah, very much so! It was a really stressful move, coming over from the UK. To move my cat, which I did by myself, amongst other things. I convinced myself I was the one that was going to be fine. That my partner and my cat were going to be the ones that were stressed out, so I was going to be the one to hold down the fort. Unfortunately, I did not do that very well. I freaked out, and I hadn’t made any space for myself. I was overwhelmed by how loud and busy the city is, but as that started to clear, I was inspired by how many lives were around me. I’ve never lived in a place where all walks of life just HAVE to coexist when you walk out your door. All different kinds of people from different cultures, religions, faith. People doing creative projects that seem so small, but so many people care about them. I went to this apartment show that some friends put together, and so many people showed up. I was like, “Wow, there’s so many people like ME in this city.” People who love to be creative and are non-judgmental. It inspired me to open up my creative process and include other people in it. That’s something I’ve learned in this past year. I formed Cavetown as a thing for myself, born out of my own loneliness. It feels like it exists BECAUSE of my loneliness, and the two are tied together. Even though Cavetown has brought me the opposite of loneliness, it’s still rooted in me being a lonely teenager. Being in this city has made me realize I’m ready to not be a lonely teenager anymore. I’m ready to be a fun adult who has lots of friends and does things and shares my creativity with other people. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, so thank you for asking that! 

Listen to Running With Scissors below: