There’s something profoundly disarming about the simplicity of One Life, the new single from British blues-rock artist Laurence Jones. Released on November 7th via Ron Records, the song doesn’t seek to dazzle or overwhelm; it unfolds slowly, like a confession offered in the open air. It’s a piece that belongs to the streets and the silences in between, to the places where music feels less like performance and more like prayer.
With One Life, Jones offers not just a song, but a statement, an act of quiet resilience from an artist who has learned to turn hardship into harmony. After the release, we spoke with him about the making of the track, the experience of filming in such personal spaces, and how quiet strength continues to shape his artistry.
- One Life feels deeply personal yet universally relatable. Can you tell us about the moment or feeling that sparked this song?
I was feeling quite down with my health at the time and wanted to write something that would pick me up and remind me of the things in life that really matter. At the end of the day, you have one life, and you have to live it right. I have always had that saying and my Grandad used to say that a lot, so it felt fitting and inspiring.
- The song is stripped back to voice, slide guitar, and an open, almost meditative rhythm. Why did you choose this particular sonic simplicity for such a personal track?
I wanted the message to feel straightforward and unfiltered, and the music needed to reflect that. Since the song is rooted in my Grandad’s reminder that we only get one life, it felt right to keep the arrangement minimal. The slide guitar adds a bit of swagger and a raw edge that mirrors both the honesty of the lyrics and the emotional weight behind them.
- One Life came to you during a difficult time with your health. How did music help you process that experience?
At the time I was really unwell and stuck at home, barely sleeping more than a couple of hours a night. Whenever I had even a little bit of energy, I’d pick up the guitar, sometimes only for half an hour, just to escape what I was feeling. It helped calm me, and it reminded me that there was a future where I’d be back on the road again. Music became a source of hope for me, and that sense of hope is really at the heart of the whole album.
- The video, filmed in Nottingham’s streets and a local cemetery, carries a very raw intimacy. What was that shoot like for you emotionally?
Both emotionally and physically, the shoot was quite challenging, as it took place during a period when I was very unwell. We filmed it close to my home because I was unable to travel far, and I wanted to include the nearby cemetery in the video. Some of my fondest memories with my Grandad involve visiting a cemetery together. Those moments were never sad, they were uplifting and filled with a sense of gratitude, reminding me to appreciate life and make the most of the time we are given.
- You spoke about your late grandad’s influence on this song. How do his words and presence continue to echo through your work and life philosophy today?
His influence is woven into everything I do. I have such warm memories of spending time around Liverpool with him, listening to stories from his working class days in the pits, stories that always inspired me. He believed in me completely and was the one who told me I could do this on my own. Naming my record label Ron Records felt like the most fitting tribute to him and the impact he had on my life and my music.
- There’s a strong sense of resilience and gratitude in One Life, even within its melancholy. How do you balance that vulnerability with strength when writing or performing?
Living with this illness forces you to reassess what really matters, and for me that’s happiness, living my dream, and creating music I’ll feel proud performing on stage. This album became a deeply personal project, my most personal so far. The vulnerability is real, but the strength comes from gratitude and from choosing to focus on the small, meaningful things that keep me moving forward.
- Living with Crohn’s Disease has clearly shaped your perspective as an artist. Has it changed the way you approach performing, physically or emotionally?
Absolutely. Living with Crohn’s has changed not just how I perform, but how I plan and experience touring. Getting on stage is the easy part, the real challenges are travel, the late nights, and the pressures that come with working under a label. Running my own label gives me control and flexibility and sitting down to perform feels much more manageable. This new storytelling phase of my career feels like exactly where I’m meant to be. My fans have been incredibly supportive and understanding; I’ve been open with them about my health and kept them updated throughout my journey.
- Blues music often carries pain in its core, yet One Life feels like it’s about survival. Do you see the blues as a healing act?
Absolutely. When I was feeling really low while writing these songs, the blues became a form of healing. Traditionally, it carries sadness, but it also offers hope and a sense of connection. For me, the blues provides a release that no other music has ever given me. I love freedom and improvisation it allows me to express myself in ways that feel completely authentic.
- You’ve been in the music scene for over a decade. How has your understanding of authenticity evolved through the years?
For me, authenticity has always been at the core of what I do. I’ve never tried to imitate artists or be the next Eric Clapton or Stevie Ray Vaughan, I take inspiration from them, maybe a lick here or there, but I’ve always focused on being true to myself. From the very beginning, it’s been important to me to be honest in my music, and I hope that honesty resonates with people so I can keep sharing my story.
