“I’m finally busy doing something I love,” declares Sam Smith, with more than a slight hint of self-satisfied pride. “Instead of being busy pulling pints and cleaning toilets.”

Two years ago, the now 22-year-old singer was working for close to minimum wage in a busy King’s Cross bar. This afternoon, born to it, he’s comfortably sprawled on a luxurious leather couch in the London HQ of Capitol Records, fending off jetlag from an LA flight with a mug of strong coffee. His debut album, In The Lonely Hour, is currently at number one in UK – the latest landmark in a year that has also seen Smith scoop the 2014 BRIT Critics’ Choice Award and be named the winner of the BBC’s Sound of 2014 poll.
Previous recipients of one, the other or both of these prestigious honours include Ellie Goulding, Florence Welch, Jessie J, Keane, Adele and Haim. So…no pressure then?
“Do you know what?” he says, smiling confidently. “I don’t feel pressurised. For me, it’s all about the music, and I think I’d feel under pressure if I didn’t have my album. I have my album and have all the music, and I feel really confident. These awards for me, and quite a bit of hype, is just good for the music. It’s all for the music and I have such a belief in my music that it doesn’t matter.”
Fast becoming a household name, Smith’s vocals have previously been heard by millions thanks to his hit radio-friendly collaborations: most notably with Disclosure on ‘Latch’, and Naughty Boy on the UK chart-topping ‘La La La’. With his solo career now flying high, it’s all good.
He seems fully ready, set and going for mainstream success. Softly-spoken, courteous and friendly, Smith is a big, slightly camp, man, with a big soulful voice. He wears silver crucifixes in both ears and already has a slight air of stardom about him.
This isn’t necessarily surprising. Born Samuel Frederick Smith in 1992, and raised with his two younger sisters in a quiet Cambridgeshire hamlet, he’s been preparing for international fame for many years. “When I was 12 I had my first manager, and I’ve had nine in total now,” he explains. “I’ve got three managers at the moment, who are incredible.”
What happened the other six?
He laughs. “It probably sounds like I was a really difficult artist, but that wasn’t the case. There were six managers before the three I have now, and they were in groups. They were groups of two and… they were really awful. Some of them were really, really bad, and did some really bad things, and I learnt a lesson, basically. I learned how to pick and choose good managers.”
Given the young age at which he had a manager, presumably his parents were quite pushy?
“It wasn’t my mum, it was my dad who was pretty much involved in everything,” he replies. “My dad was a house husband. My mum worked in the City [in finance], so my dad helped me with as much as he could.”
Are they still involved now?
“No, not at all,” he says, shaking his head. “They’re involved in my personal life. I took the reins, basically, when I turned 18, which I think is the normal thing to do. Up until the age of 18, I was a minor so it was only right that they were with me and helped me on certain decisions. Because, if they didn’t, I would’ve been signing contracts here or there, do you know what I mean?”
But they were obviously very supportive of you?
“Very,” he affirms. “I’ve had the best upbringing that I could ever have. They were supportive, but not pushy, you know. Even if I turned around tomorrow and said I wanted to be something completely different, my mum and dad would support me with that, just like they have with my singing.”
What age were you when you wrote your first song?
“I was 10 years old. I wrote a Christmas song in primary school, and then my first proper song, which was about something honest and true, was when I was 15. It was called ‘Yellow Hat’.” He smiles. “It was about someone I really fancied at school, who wore a yellow hat.”
Did you sing it to her? Or him?
“No,” he smiles. “I didn’t play it to the person, no.”
Growing up in Cambridgeshire, singing along to the radio, Smith was heavily influenced by the likes of Whitney Houston, Chaka Khan and Celine Dion. All of his vocal influences were female. “Yeah, I only really listen to female singers. I couldn’t really listen to guy singers before, which is really odd. And I think that’s why I sing so high - because I’ve just mimicked them my whole life.”
He has some heavy-hitting supporters. Adele is a major fan (she tweeted her congratulations when his Nirvana EP was released). Last year he toured the UK with Emeli Sande. “Yeah, that was amazing. She’s so incredible. It was amazing to be able to put my music out to that many people and I see them now on my Twitter being like “I saw you at...” and that’s really good. I mean, she has such a wide range of fans, from young to old, and I love that.”
Smith wrote each song on his debut album with a different collaborator. Amongst others, In The Lonely Hour features the talents of Eg White (Adele, Florence + The Machine), Jimmy Napes (who also worked on the Disclosure and Naughty Boy collaborations), Joel Little (Lorde) and writer-producer Fraser T Smith (Adele, Taio Cruz). While most songwriters draw inspiration from their love lives, Smith claims never to have had a proper relationship. Every track on the record sounds quite different, but there is a common lyrical theme of loneliness amidst the various musical styles.
“I’m drawing on unrequited love on the album,” he explains. “It’s called In The Lonely Hour because it’s about loneliness, and the purest form of loneliness you can find because I’ve never been in a relationship before. So it’s almost like I fell in love with my loneliness, because it was just me and that. It’s not necessarily sad, it’s my version of what I think is love right now. Which I think will change, but I just wanted to be as brutally honest as I could about being lonely.”
Having mostly recorded and gigged as a guest artist, he’s seriously excited about going solo. “My first ever solo gig was probably when I was about 12 years old. I did something in a pub, but officially my first solo gigs were at King’s Cross St Pancras last year. I did my first two headline shows there, which were amazing, and then I did Islington Assembly Hall headline show in London.”
Does he prefer performing or recording?
“They’re both completely different. I couldn’t answer that, because performing is in front of everyone. It’s incredible, it’s such an experience with people. In the studio, you’re by yourself in the booth, and the emotions I have are very lonely when I’m in the studio. They’re completely different things.”
He says that performing his own songs is emotionally a lot more gruelling than guesting on somebody else’s track. “My lyrics are so honest so it takes a whole different part of me to sing them. I find it really tough sometimes because they’re so honest, and I’m quite sensitive and emotional. And, you know, you’re kind of reliving the moment. Physically performing is great because I’ve had practice. From these two features I’ve really been able to practice my trade over the past year, so stepping into the limelight feels more natural. I feel more prepared.”
Given his sensitivity and highly emotional nature, when was the last time he cried?
“Oh my God!” he gasps. “The day before yesterday, because I was recording a song in L.A. with a 30-piece orchestra and 20 gospel choirs and they were singing my song. I cried my eyes out. My music is so personal so when I heard that happening I was like, ‘Oh my gosh!’”
He always wore his heart on his sleeve. “My whole family are like that. That’s the way I was brought up. If we’re upset we always voice it, if we’re happy we always voice it. And, yeah, I think that’s why I’m the way I am.”
It all seems to be happening for him right now. But where does Smith see himself in five years?
“I have no idea, but I don’t wanna know,” he admits, shrugging. “I want life to take me on a journey. Hopefully, I’ll be somewhere exotic and having a great time. I just want people to get to know me. Because I’ve come from two features, I now want people to know me, and my music, and what I do. I think that’s really important.”
Samuel Frederick Smith takes another swig of black coffee and contemplates his current circumstances. “Whenever I get a bit tired, I remind myself that it could be worse,” he says.
“I could be back in my bar job. I’m just enjoying it.”

Sam Smith plays Longitude July 19. In The Lonely Hour is out now