TIM HUGHES enters the gentle, unassuming world of Peter Scott and his acclaimed band Exlovers.

ASK most bands about their wickedest and wildest times and you’re inevitably regaled with lurid tales of backstage debauchery and late night hi-jinks.

But then Exlovers are not your typical band. While their contemporaries may be getting up to mischief courtesy of drink, libido and high-spirits, Peter Scott and his band came unstuck at the hands of a lift. Yes, a lift.

“We find ways of entertaining ourselves in towns we end up in,” says the softly spoken singer-songwriter. “We do things on the spur of the moment, but one of the most terrifying experiences was in a shopping mall in Darlington.

“We were using a dumb waiter lift to get our equipment up to the room we were playing in, when suddenly me and Ben Moorhouse, the bass player at the time, got in as well.

“The lift went up and then stopped – and we found ourselves stuck in the dark in a tiny box. It was quite disturbing. I remember pulling back the door and trying to get out but being faced by a brick wall. After about 10 minutes, we had to accept the fact we would die there. Fortunately people heard our screams and managed to get it going – and saved our lives.

“I’m not fond of lifts anymore.”

Peddling a luscious brand of melodic, harmony-strewn dream-pop, hovering between 90s indie rock and showgaze, Exlovers seem endearingly out of step with the majority of breakthrough bands.

And when you catch the lyrics, you realise, beyond doubt, they are cast from a mould all their own.

The band was formed in London in late 2008 by Peter, who convinced guitarist friend Chris Woodhead, who he had got to know while living in the Cornish artistic haven of St Ives, to join him.

They were joined by singer Laurel Sills, who Peter had met at Goldsmiths University. The rhythm section came courtesy of drummer Brooke Rogers and bassist Danny Blackman. The five musicians gelled and soon hit the road, earning admirers, critical acclaim, tours with Golden Silvers, Pete and the Pirates and Pete Doherty, and slots at Glastonbury and Secret Garden Party.

They are currently finishing off their album. In fact, I caught up with the softly spoken and understated Peter during a break from doing, what he called “a few bits and pieces” at a studio in Walthamstowe, East London.

“It’s been very exciting doing the album,” says Peter, 25, an artist distinguished by his frank honesty and gentle charm.

“It’s like a dream. I can’t wait for it to be mixed, so we can hear it,” he says. “We haven’t decided what to call it yet. In fact we haven’t even discussed it. Nothing has jumped out at me, maybe it will be self-titled; that’s better than forcing a name.”

Which brings us to the sensitive issue of the band’s own name.

“We had to have a band name and that seemed the obvious one,” he says.

So are he and Laurel ex-lovers? I ask. Or anyone else in the band?

“It’s a complicated scenario,” he sighs after an awkward pause.

“It just seemed the most appropriate name. I was struggling to think of what to call it and nothing sprang up. I’d hate to have to come up with a name with no meaning, but this speaks volumes about who we are and how we formed.”

Refusing to be drawn, Peter seemed uncomfortable, adding only, “It fits – in a weird way.” And so we move on.

What is documented is that Peter had been creating songs alone long before forming his band.

“I’d been writing for years,” he recalls. “Since the age of 14 really; but I didn’t have the courage to play them to anyone.

“Then someone happened to hear a song and told me I must do something with it. It was a slow process, but I gradually gained the confidence to do it.”

He is frank and open about his insecurity and personal battle with self-doubt.

“I’m getting better,” he says. “But I do go through periods of being more reclusive. But then that’s part of the reason I ended up doing this in the first place; it’s not just about making music, it’s a way to exist.”

So he wouldn’t consider himself particularly rock & roll then?

“That rock & roll thing never occurred to me. It seems to be a motivation for a lot of people, but I’ve never been about any of that.”

So what is he about? “I’m not sure really,” he confesses, thoughtfully. “I never made a conscious decision to be in a band, and have that lifestyle. I just wanted to write music. I get a lot of enjoyment out of doing live shows, which is good, because I never thought I would.”

Never? “Yes never. I couldn’t have imagined it at all. I’d automatically assumed I couldn’t do it; I didn’t think that what I was doing was good enough.”

But it is good. It’s also very clever. While his music may sound cheery and upbeat, the lyrics hint at despair. And vice versa.

“A lot of things I write about come from personal feelings, so are about death, loss and depression, but also love. When put alongside simple melodies, it puts a different spin on things. A sad song doesn’t sound like one, while a happy song can sound depressing.”

He goes on: “At times I can be melancholic; I’m quite up and down. Depression has been a theme of my life since I was quite young.

“I’m not particularly brash, I don’t gravitate to those sorts of people; I choose to spend time with people who are more introverted.

“One of the fun things about being in a band, though, is travelling around and being in places you don’t know and meeting the people.”

One place he does know, however, is Oxford, where he returns on Saturday as guests of promoter and Guide club snapper Marc West, for the latest in his cult Yoof nights at The Cellar.

“It’s important that people get out to see gigs, so we really need people like Marc who are passionate about music,” says Peter. “It’s so much more rewarding playing shows for people like him, who are excited and happy to offer you a gig. And I like the Cellar a lot. Plus, it hasn’t got a lift!”

* Exlovers’ single Blowing Kisses is out now. They play Yoof at The Cellar in Oxford on Saturday. Doors open at 9pm. Support comes from Pushing Hands and Glass Animals.