Isobel Campbell interview: 2011

BEAUTY & THE BEAST



Possessing one of the sweetest voices in contemporary music, meant Isobel Campbell slotted rather neatly into Glasgow folk-pop ensemble, Belle & Sebastian – the band she started with former lover, Stuart Murdoch - but just slotting in, by her own admission, was never Campbell's intention. “Nah…. holding back has never been something I’m particularly good at.” Isobel left Belle & Sebastian in 2002, having provided them with their biggest hit, Legal Man just previous, and emerged from her Gentle Waves solo side-project to finally record under her own name from 2003 onward. Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, a serviceable grunge act called Screaming Trees had ended their ten year run with a whimper, and brooding front-man, Mark Lanegan was part-timing with Queens Of The Stone Age. Seemingly adverse to maintaining another full-time band, Lanegan stuck to his 'casual basis only' habit all decade-long, leaving a trail of collaborations in his wake.

Lanegan's reputation as a sleeping bear never reached Campbell ahead of her request for Mark to 'sing on a couple of tracks she'd written'. The voice she had in mind for her songs was, 'that guy from Screaming Trees', knowing nothing of Mark's volatile nature and problems with addiction. Campbell simply says, “All of us have something or other to contend with… I believe”, and whether or not his demons affect their creative output, Isobel maintains, “Everything affects everything else, doesn’t it?” Her attitude to Mark is based on mutual respect and certainly Lanegan displays uncharacteristic warmth in Campbell's presence during rare joint-interviews. Their collaborative efforts to date amount to three acclaimed albums, the last of which, Hawk, released in 2010 spells the end of their partnership. Looking back over their work together, Isobel's lasting impression is, “I would say 99.9 percent of the time we saw eye-to-eye musically. We trust and respect each other a lot, and I think that is pretty obvious by the music we made.”



Isobel and Mark's work has allowed Campbell much greater expression. She utilises their shared vocal lyrically to direct a conversation, often willfully personal, courting comparisons with Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin's explicitly charged duets. In her writing, Campbell has addressed the messy break-up with Belle & Sebastian's Stuart Murdoch, but she's equally at home playing fictional storyteller. “Sometimes it can be a vent for things, yes, but sometimes it is just pure fantasy. If the song is for someone in particular then I usually have their voice in my head, but usually I just concentrate on writing a good song and that may or may not tell some kind of story, or reveal something about me, but either way it's some form of personal expression.” Although Campbell and Lanegan's last tour winds up this year leaving Isobel to pursue new collaborations, she reveals a long-term retirement plan she hopes will include Mark.



“I think when we're really, really old it'd be nice to get together one more time and do something with our combined history and the experiences we've had separately as well.” She laughs, “I'll be like Mark is now – kind of broody and dark – and he might have mellowed out, so it could be really interesting!” While Campbell fantasises about possible future role reversals, she reveals exactly what their current collaborative roles are. “Mark always says I am the head and he's the body in this arrangement. He likes to leave the thinking to me. I think it's worked out well though  because, I was really willing to be that person and it suited Mark also because he needs somebody  to push him to work sometimes.” Geographically, Isobel and Mark are closer now than ever – Campbell recently moved to LA, while Mark calls Washington State home – but her shift to the US has offered Isobel new opportunities, helping her transition away from the safety net of the Lanegan collaborations.



“I'm really proud of the three albums (I made) with Mark, but that cycle is completed for now.” The musically fertile Arizona desert, unlikely as that sounds, drew Isobel in. “I've found it's the perfect place for me, being from Glasgow, you can't get a greater contrast. Also, I've fallen in love with the music scene out there.” She reveals, “I've been writing with a singer called Victoria Williams, and our record is about half done now.” She adds excitedly, “ Calexico play on some of it, as well who are just amazing, but as for what the end product will sound like, I will quote Victoria, who always says…. 'We’ll see….', but you just know she has it all mapped out in her head.” Both Mark and Isobel have grown considerably through their in-obvious bond, and certainly a great deal more than if either had stayed within their respective bands. Between them they've forged one of those, for all intense and purposes, mis-matched duos who like, Kirtsy MacColl and The Pogues or Nick Cave and Kylie, although usually short-lived, we continue to have an enduring fascination with.



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"Is the glass half full, or half empty, Mark?"

Chris Geddes (Belle & Sebastian) interview: 2011

LOVE WRITES

The latest chapter in the tale of Glasgow's bookish anti-stars, Belle & Sebastian is titled simply enough, Write About Love. It’s as though a light-bulb went off in their collective heads at some 'new album ideas' meeting and it read 'go do what you always do'. They did and the results were unmistakably Belle & Sebastian; in other words another enchanting and rewarding listen, devoid of any 'Mills & Boon' sentiments.



Although no such light-bulb moment took place, the band did take their longest between-album break so far in their 15 year career. Suggesting Write About Love was an aural face-palm and a reminder of what they did best as a collective seems like a good place to start my talk with keyboardist Chris Geddes today. He says little to re-enforce my thoughts on their new album's title, but instead offers, "We just didn't ever want to get to the point where we are going through the motions and that's partly what lead to us taking a break for a while. Plus Stuart (Murdoch) wanted to work on another project, which ended up taking a couple of years." Chris adds, "I don't think there was any doubt we would get back together though. Without really discussing it, we were all I think under the assumption that there would be future Belle & Sebastian activity.” Experience has taught me that asking the artist involved to describe their work usually results in many awkward pauses, but Chris in interview is almost an enthusiastic fan of Belle & Sebastian’s work, as though his contribution to the band is far from his mind.



"I think it has some very strong tracks on it." He dutifully states, “Sarah (Martin)’s writing is probably my favourite thing about the whole record, but also Tony Hoffer did a really good job with the production again." Tony previously worked with the band on 2007’s The Life Pursuit. Chris continues, "Also, I think Stuart (Murdoch)’s and Stevie (Jackson)’s songs (on Write About Love) are among the best they have ever written in Belle & Sebastian.” Chris claims that it was producer Tony Hoffer who provided the starting point for the new record’s direction. “At the start, he said he wanted me to try using old synthesisers on this record, and I guess because we had already decided we wanted to use less orchestral stuff than we had on the previous records, that seemed like a great place to begin." He continues, "There wasn't an abundance of songs going in either, so we had to work out a lot of the album in the actual studio, unlike on The Life Pursuit, where we had a lot of half formed ideas already on the go by the time we started the sessions." An outsider might see this as a less stressful way of making a new album, but Chris reckons, “It (Life Pursuit) felt like we were trying to keep too many balls in the air the whole way through the process." As a producer in his own right, Chris felt he could 'buddy up' with Hoffer on the album sessions, perhaps more than anyone else in the band.

 

"Yeah I love working over there (in LA) with Tony because its such a brilliant studio, and whereas I work from my little home set-up in Glasgow, being around Tony is like playing with the big boys and seeing how a true professional operates." His own production work, Chris decides after only a brief pause, could never include a Belle & Sebastian album. "No I couldn’t do it because nobody in the band would let me tell them what to do." He quips, "As much as I’d love to do it, and get a proper studio together from the huge amounts of cash I'd obviously make from it, at the end of the day, nobody would listen to me." Poor Chris – the man they call Beans is in possession of one of the softest speaking voices I’ve ever encountered doing interviews. Indeed I had met Chris in person during Belle & Sebastian’s last Australian visit and was struck by how incredibly timid, although engaging, he was. To be the 'quiet one' in Belle & Sebastian suddenly seems like a hilarious concept considering so much of their music, even during their rare moments of gay abandon, is almost apologetic in delivery. Our talk turns to the 'other project' Stuart was working on during Belle & Sebastian’s hiatus and how it inturn lead to Write About Love’s surprising guest vocalists.

"Norah Jones (who guests on Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John) I think came on board because a good friend of Stuart's from years ago turned out to be an ex-housemate of hers…” Chris laughs, possibly at the sound of himself name-dropping, “And Carey Mulligan, well Stuart just saw her in a film and was quite keen to get her into the studio because he was working on the script for his film, God Help The Girl and he thought she'd be good for a role in that." The script and score for the musical film is entirely Stuart Murdoch's work outside of his commitment to Belle & Sebastian. He had written stories exclusively about women and for women to sing and went about auditioning artists, mostly unknowns, to play the parts. Carey Mulligan was an exception in that she had an already developed career as an actress, mostly in bonnet dramas, however, she makes a rather impressive singing debut on the title track to Write About Love.

Chris featured on the 2nd album's sleeve

"I think she was amazing really," Chris continues, "but I read in an interview she did after that she was extremely nervous about the whole thing." He laughs, "You would never have known at the time though, but I guess that's the actor in her." At this stage in Belle & Sebastian’s career, pre-album release and tour press is a standard activity but I remind Chris that it wasn’t always the case. Back in 1996, just as the media-hyped Brit-pop scene was starting to lose steam, Belle & Sebastian, perhaps disturbed by the level of attention shown to anything new that could be held up as the saviours of Brit-pop, chose to withdraw as the spotlight drew nearer.  It was a renegade card they played but it only served to strengthen their appeal especially once their debut album Tigermilk became the indie buzz album of the year.



"We were just sort of making it up as we went along. We decided to not do interviews or promotional activities because of how difficult we felt it was to portray what we were about through just talking about it, if that makes sense." It does, I tell him. The particular topic reminds me of seeing early Belle & Sebastian promo items, like badges and posters, often featuring basic line drawings of kids on bikes or soft toys with a simple 'B&S' slogan to identify the culprits. These kinds of DIY, anti-publicity bands are common, but rarely succeed in the way Belle & Sebastian have. Chris hints that a desire for anonymity was loosely the reason for this. "When the band first started, Isobel (Campbell) and myself were pretty young, we were still students, and Stuart I think felt quite protective of us. He didn't want the pressure of loads of attention on us because I think he felt it could spoil what we had together." Chris adds thoughtfully, "Think of how many bands that are talented but maybe get to only make two or three albums because they burn out from that first rush of overexposure. Stuart understood this and didn’t want us to suffer the same fate."



It's clear that Stuart takes his role as band protector quite seriously. He has guided them through eight successful albums, from playing house parties to stages the world over and into the fringes of popular culture without compromising their work. Chris probably doesn't spends his time thinking about this fact, but his ease in discussing it suggests he's confident they made the right move. "Obviously you can never know for sure what you're doing is totally the right thing at the time, but now I think everyone in the band agrees, we are happy with how things have worked out for us."





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Mani (Primal Scream) interview: 2011

COCKED AND RE-LOADED

Whether it's a public image he's created or just a day in the life, Gary 'Mani' Mounfield – Primal Scream's riotous bass player – still exhibits a burning-the-candle-at-both-ends young man's energy and wit. But the man at the centre of two of the UK's most influential bands of the last 20-odd years has earned the right to play whatever hand he damn well wants. It was after all Mani's smacked-out bass gave The Stone Roses their signature sound and has since 1996, rumbled through all of Primal Scream's records. But it was while he and his Stone Roses buddies were enjoying what looked like start of a long, exciting career that a little Scottish band, who so far had little to crow about besides two lack lustre '60s influenced rock albums, dropped the biggest acid-rock record of the times. The fast-changing underground club music scene in Britain finally got the benchmark album in Screamadelica it had needed to set the bar high. Primal Scream had arrived and The Stone Roses suddenly seemed to get very wobbly indeed.



20 years on and Mani - who could in another reality have been discussing a Stone Roses 'Don't Look Back' tour - is instead shooting the shit on his adopted band's re-visit to a defining moment in music. While singer Bobby Gillespie has continued to guide his band away from the warped psyche-rock of Screamadelica – Mani, who missed the wild, hedonistic 'Scream of the early '90s, defies his leader's wish to 'chill-out' with age. "I've been bugging the band to get stuck into the back catalogue for years and Bob (Gillespie) was dead-set against it." He begins proudly. In his time as a member of Primal Scream, Mounfield hasn't felt first hand the level of hype that was created by Screamadelica. He's unabashedly in agreement with the media and the public that the album was their peak and in turn had the objectivity to convince the rest of the band to bring it back to the stage.

"Well I think I'm more enthusiastic about it than Bobby or any of the other guys who played on the original album." He says, grinning, "I'm playing like a fucking juvenile you know, and seeing the sheer beauty in it. I mean I've been part of Primal Scream for the last 13 fucking year's man, playing songs off this album but the difference now is we've put a lot of effort into keeping to its original sound by stripping everything back and building it back up again for the shows. We've kept a lot of (producer) Andrew Weatherall's original stuff – and it's been a grind – but I tell you what, it was such a pay-off to see 11,000  people the other week going mad for it at the Olympia in London." He continues, "To me, the songs on that album deserved to be brought to people who maybe weren't old enough to hear them the first time around or weren't even born yet. Playing to the festival crowds, like we have been recently, you're not always playing to the converted you know like in the club shows, so I hope we can turn those people onto something they maybe wouldn't have ordinarily liked or heard before. That's the power of music, man."

Gillespie & Mani

The frank-talking bassist was enjoying Stone Roses first year of success when Screamadelica hit like the freak storm nobody could've predicted considering Primal Scream's patchy past and slow-to-capitalise follow-up. Of the two bands to emerge triumphant years later, most people's hard-earned would surely have backed the 'Roses to carry on. History had other plans for Mani though, and while he saw his old band through to their end in 1996, he'd made a new home in Primal Scream before the amps had even been unplugged for the last time at camp Stone Rose. "I think I've learned a lot more from playing in this band than I would have if the 'Roses had kept going." Mani claims, "I broadened me horizons when I joined this band, no question. I was always a big fan of Primal Scream because they were so similar to us (Stone Roses), if not musically, then personally. We had a lot of the same values and similar backgrounds and so we were all firm friends early on." He remembers, "We used to always be slobbering over each other in clubs, ecstasy'd out of our fuckin' minds out in Glasgow or Manchester and so there was no doubt when the 'Roses split up where I was headed."

Mani (middle back) with Stone Roses

Just as the hazy groove-rock of the Stone Roses wiped out the competition in 1989, the following year-and-a-half belonged to Screamadelica. A young Mani was paying close attention and, he claims he saw a connection between what his old band had done previously to what Primal achieved in 1991. "I kind of looked at it as the natural progression from us having, say break-beats on Fools Gold, and also the progression of a bunch of like-minded guys wanting to do something new." He confirms, "You have to remember, guitar bands weren't being played in the clubs and acid house was taking over and there's nothing wrong with a bit of cross-pollination in music if you can make it work. Primal Scream were ballsy bastards to try it, and only a very few bands have managed to really pull off a thing like that." One of keys to Screamadelica's sound was the work of not one, but five producers. Apart from Andrew Weatherall's overall weaving of samples, loops and thick beats, it was DJ Dr Alex Patterson (a.k.a The Orb)'s co-production on Screamadelica that had dance fiends grabbing for the twelve-inches'.



"It was all just a time of pure fucking genius on many levels, you know." Mani says, "The world's greatest DJs came from that scene and Alex (The Orb) did, in my mind, the fucking best mixes of those songs on Screamadelica." The Orb remixes of Higher Than The Sun and Slip Inside This House have arguably become the essential versions over the album mixes. Those all-class singles extended the album's shelf life for two years as Loaded, Movin' On Up and Come Together continued their assault on the UK top 40 between February 1990 and February '92. Each one demonstrated a different side to the band while remaining identifiable as Primal Scream. The Glasgow lads had somehow tapped into the mystic cosmic funk and nothing they turned their hand to seemed to fail. How else could they have passed as a soul, psychedelic pop, acid house and blues rock band all in one release?

 

"Too many bands out there now are scared to deviate from whatever their last album sounded like and Primal Scream was never interested in doing that, you know." Mani offers, "I mean if you want to do that you might as well get a job in a fucking hat shop. Music should be a fucking tight-rope walk done by outsiders, ne'er do-wells, junkies and vagabonds mate." Mani encapsulates the 'Scream in this one sentence but his bravado, he reckons, isn't reinforced by any universal love for the band. "Back home we kind of get ignored in a lot of respects. I mean, I don't give a fuck what they say about us in the UK – I still think we're one of the best fucking bands still doin' it, but we don't get a lot of support." He adds, "But you know what, Primal Scream isn't our job, man it's what we do twenty-four-seven and we know how to kick it from arsehole to balls and I don't see any other rock n' roll bands playing with the kind of feeling we give it."

 

While Stone Roses' front man Ian Brown spent most of the '90s in and out of trouble/prison, Mani fought, mouthed-off and shocked for all he was worth, but somehow got away with it. That is at least until last year when supergroup Freebass, on the verge of releasing their debut album, ended suddenly with a very public serve of humiliation from Mani to Peter Hook – the group's founder and ex-New Order bassist. Freebass, which also included ex-Smiths bassist Andy Rourke, was in Mani's words, "Something to keep me match fit while the 'Scream were doin' nothing." He confesses, "I might have tainted a good friendship there, I'm such a gobshite sometimes, but we put a lot of effort into making that album and I should have been there to promote it instead of slagging Hooky off." Mani accused Hook (via Twitter) of getting fat off Ian Curtis's blood money for touring Joy Division with none of original members. "God bless him though, and look, I apologised to Peter and we're friends still, but in the end everybody bailed out of fucking Freebass." Mani laughs, "What can I say, I'm from Manchester mate and we're a bunch of gobby bastards so whatever I said at the time that was just me being me. That's what comes from spending time with the likes of Ian Brown and Liam Gallagher in the pub!"

 

Mani's salutes 'The Man'. 

The big gob, the much bigger than required bass amp and the cheeky stoned grin all suggest Mani has his priorities in order and Stone Roses reunions or failed supergroups aren't among them. Right now his sights are set on winning over his Australian fans again following 2009's sensory-annihilating shows. "I'm countin' the days off on my wall chart until I can get on that plane and come over to Melbourne mate." Mani barks, "Love the fuckin' place, love the people and can't wait to come and play for you all again." He adds in a festive tone, "Melbourne for me is like Australia's Manchester, man. It's got that pure love for music and I never have to worry about having a shit time when I'm there." When the Screamadelica Don't Look Back shows wrap up, it is already widely rumoured that the band are heading straight back into the studio to record album number 10. Mani's sure of only one thing though, the new stuff will be 'unlike anything they've done before.' "Well we could end up doing a fucking skiffle album, you just never know." He laughs, "That's something we haven't tried yet and we've been around for about 8,000 years now so maybe it's time." Mani says, cracking up. "We're gonna turn into travelling freak show freaks like the bearded lady or the fucking human dick, you know what I mean?" He splutters, "There's a kind of voyeuristic way in which people see Primal Scream, I think. They're just staring going 'what the fuck is that all about?' So we can't disappoint 'em can we?"

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Ray McGinley (Teenage Fanclub) interview (2010)

After Surviving the collapse of taste-making label Creation, scathing self-criticism and the 1990s in general, Scotland's Teenage Fanclub have heralded their 20th year in the biz with a new album, Shadows. According to the UK media, the band fans dubbed 'The Fannies' 1991 album, Bandwagonesque, was the best release of the year (controversially beating Nirvana's Nevermind). Yet critical acclaim rarely seemed to influence, for good or bad, the group's subsequent releases, and they've often seemed perversely self-destructive. Perhaps it's this apathy to outside perception that has helped maintain Teenage Fanclub's creative core over hit song making approach to music. As singer/lead guitarist Ray McGinley points out during our interview, "It is the band that has to live with the songs they make, and love them too, even the ugly ones." That said, I wonder have Teenage Fanclub, 20 years on from debut album Catholic Education, hit their peak with Shadows.

"Whether we're at our peak or not it's probably up to other people to decide." Ray begins on the subject of his band's new album. "I think we're comfortable with where we're at and with the new record so our relationship with our collective, creative sides is fine. With that in mind, I'm sure there are people who will think what we're doing now is crap and only be interested in what we did 20 years ago, but that's fine as well." Teenage Fanclub began in Glasgow in the late 1980s, following a false start as the hilariously named noise-pop band, Boy Hairdressers. Since then they have held claim to the title of 'Creation Records longest post-collapse survivors' now that Oasis have split. McGinley has doubtfully even considered why his band have flourished for so long, as they have continually made music to please themselves above all. "Sometimes when you're in the middle of making an album you forget that other people are actually gonna hear it and so when you release something new and goes out into the world, it can be surprising to hear any kind of feedback from the public." He considers "I mean it's great when you hear people like what you do, because making the albums you lose all objectivity, but I don't think we've ever made music as a way of gaining popularity or anything."

During the bands early years, the emphasis was often on capturing the moment when recording, thus various cacophonous noise-pieces made their way onto Teenage Fanclub albums. The rate at which they recorded was unusual for any band - they put out three records in under two years including The King (1991) – which was deleted within 24 hours of release. However non-rush to follow up last release Man-Made (2005) was a little out of character. Ray explains, "We decided to take some time before we recorded anything to just do other stuff for a time, individually, and that ended up being a lot longer than we initially planned." He laughs, "We didn't take very long to record the actual album, it was all pretty much done back in 2008, but we did take our time mixing it and then had another break after it just to let it mature for a while before we dealt with all the stuff that goes along with releasing an album."

The lack of urgency in finishing and releasing Shadows could be the sign of a band under no pressure to follow up some massive hit album, but more likely it's a confident step forward for Teenage Fanclub who, as their own biggest critics, found a happy medium of music that satisfied them and a workload that wouldn't unduly pressure them. "It's just nice to live with the work for a time before everything starts happening, like all the promotion and rehearsal commitments, when suddenly it feels like a job." Ray adds, "But then going out and playing for people, who come up and talk to us after the show and who've got the new album with them, is a great feeling and then you tour for two years or something and that feeling just stays with you." He continues, "We're in rehearsal at the moment trying to get to grips with re-learning how to play some of the (new) songs again. When you're in the studio making the album, you only need to get it right once and so you're not that well versed in the songs as you would be playing them night after night." He describes, "We're hoping we can work out everything on the record so we can play it live in full like we did with our last one."

 

In performing complete albums on tour, Teenage Fanclub are able to share equally the vocal and written workload. McGinley, Norman Blake and Gerard Love have a long tradition of singing and writing equal percentages of the bands' albums, similar to their '60s counterparts the Beach Boys. A massive back catalogue of work now means an even greater share of live duties, but also the challenge to strike a balance between the ease of familiarity and fully exploring new material.  Ray continues, "I remember, going back to 1990 when we put out our first record Catholic Education, which had less individual members songs, and we'd played that album live, like hundreds of times, and we had a set which we kind of stuck to, then in 1991 we released Bandwagonesque and suddenly we had to play all these new songs and, even to this day it still takes a while until you really feel comfortable playing new the songs along side the old ones." He claims, "There's a real sort of strangeness to them until you've taken them out around the world and lived with them for a time." Ray laughs. "There's a new song called Dark Clouds, which Norman (Blake) sings and there's no guitar on it, so we're trying to work out now how we're going to play it live – as in can he play piano and sing at the same time, because it's quite a difficult song to play, and if he gets someone else to play it, will he feel a bit strange standing there just singing without his guitar!" He exclaims, "So you see what I mean about having to re-learn how to do this thing that we've been doing or over 20 years now whenever we have new songs."

 

There's so much humility in Ray's voice as he speaks about his music. The idea of new songs having to be 'grown into' and old ones being 'comfortable' is the language of a man fully into his craft. Yet the band have been known to give themselves a harsh serve when any apparent 'below par' music's been produced. Ray on the theme of self-criticism, "I think we always try and get our music to be as good as it can be, and that includes playing live as well as studio recordings, but we don't get too uptight about it. I mean you're never going to be able to recreate your record live, it's gonna be another kind of thing and we're always aware of that, but I think we're very self-critical when we play, for sure." Indeed Teenage Fanclub have taken self-depreciation to levels not often seen in music. In one case, at its initial promotional stage, their 1993 release Thirteen was widely dismissed in the UK press – only not by bitchy journalists – but by the band themselves. Not an exercise in reverse psychology, Ray points out, but more a slip of the tongue. "We were probably too publicly self-critical in the case of that album." He laughs, "I think the longer you work on something, and at the time that was our longest period making an album, the more anti-climactic the result can feel. We were genuinely unsatisfied with it and we knew we should have done it a lot better, but the fact that we were so vocal about it meant that the media, of course ran with it."

 

In a kind of unprecedented twist, Teenage Fanclub's follow up to Thirteen, 1995's Grand Prix, was championed as one of the best British album's released all year – and one that the band were this time keen to vocalise their happiness with. The sound on that album was a strong indicator of what was to come, as the lads from Glasgow moved away from their shoegaze roots and onto 3 part harmonies. The latest, Shadows, is close to full with hooks and harmonies channeled straight from 1960s California via Glasgow, and picking up a little XTC on the way. It's on my comparison with Swindon's now defunct oddball-poppers, XTC that Ray interjects; "I don't think I fashion myself on any particular singer, I just try and sing in tune as best I can." He says laughing, "But it's funny because I really like XTC, but I don't think I've ever sat down and actually listened to a whole album." Ray adds, "I do like their attitude though, they seem to be against all the bullshit side of music and just stay recluse and maybe release something every ten years or so." He smiles, "That's something I can definitely appreciate now."

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Chris Bowes (Alestorm) interview 2010

DAVEY JONES' ROCKERS

If you've ever thought what's been missing in metal for years is the unbridled spirit of drunk-sounding, burly Scottish men in pirate costumes, my friend you are in for a treat with Alestorm. Their two albums so far, Captain Morgan's Revenge and Black Sails at Midnight have seen this band from Perth, Scotland forge their own path in the battle metal genre… By dressing and performing as pirates. Tonight, the not-so-sinister Captain Chris Bowes is - after a few ales - at the helm and ready to cast one good eye over a few questions on why life as a drunken, moroding, wench-chasing pirate rocker was so appealing.

"Because Scotland is such a fucking boring country, so you might as well start a band and pretend you're a pirate." The singer says, as a matter of fact. Seriously Scotland suck so many balls. Rubbish place. Chris continues his moan after being asked his opinion on Scotland's amazing musical history. "Its all fuckers with accordions and violins playing crappy granny music. Plus the weather's shit too. There's nothing good about Scotland." A more tactful turn is needed, so we discuss Chris's songwriting. As vocalist and keytar player in Alestorm, it is also his duty to keep the piratey songs coming for the band's singular theme; "Usually after a case of beer and bottle of vodka I'll get into the mood to maybe write some stuff." He laughs, I sit down at my keyboard and start writing and these little pirate songs just come out. It's a magical process.

Alestorm's songs involve any and every reference to piracy you can name prompting me to ask if a serious interest in maritime folk-lore motivates Chris; "None of our songs have any basis in fact or real stories from the sea, it's all stuff you can get from movies and computer games. You know, cursed zombie pirates and sunken treasure… It's all just a bunch of dog crap really. We're just doing this for the alcohol and because pirates are cool and get to wear eye patches. Chicks dig eye patches." He continues, "One-eyed guys get way more sex than guys with two eyes, this is a medically supported fact."



Despite his off-hand remarks, Chris and his band are one hundred percent into the whole pirate schtick. The stage shows, videos and album art all reinforce the band's angle, leaving the listener in no doubt that yep, it's very piratey. Chris says of the roots of Alestorm's fixation; "When I started writing songs I just let my mind wander, and one day it wandered to pirates as a subject to write about. I wrote this song called Heavy Metal Pirates, which ended up on our Leviathan EP, and everyone was like 'holy shit this is amazing, can you write more songs about pirates?' and next thing I find myself in a pirate metal band heading for Australia."



Musically, the band recalls early Dropkick Murphys, with maybe a little nod towards The Darkness. However unlike those bands, it's the keytar that dominates Alestorm's music. Chris interjects, "Oh aye, I can't play the guitar for shit, and I write all the band's songs. So of course everything I write is gonna be keyboard based. Every time I listen to most metal bands, I kinda wish they had loads of keyboards and synths and everything. That kind of stuff gives me an epic boner."



Having an image and a potential-filled theme is all a part of Alestorm's desire to stand out, Chris considers; "From a cynical perspective, too many bands all look/sound the same, so you gotta do something unique to be remembered. It's a lot of what got us where we are today." Audiences are flocking to the shows, too. This previously untapped branch of metal has developed a huge following overseas – although, Chris recons, not enough 'wenches' are showing up; "It's a fucking sausage fest, dudes as far as the eye can see. Breaks my wee Scottish heart."

Despite this set back, he's in awe of the love his band have been shown. "It's ridiculous, I mean we've been a band for probably two, three years maximum and we've toured the fucking world now which is rather wonderful. We've done all of Europe and the Americas so now it's time to hit the Antipodean shores and conquer Australia, as we say." Embarking on new turf for Alestorm has Chris excited, he sees Australian's in general as his ideal audience; "You're all a bunch of fucking criminals." He blurts out. Considering the reputation of pirates - rock'n'roll pirates even – it strikes me that the band might encounter difficulties when getting booked to play some of your more conservative corners of the globe. Chris claims; "Nah, we're a promoters wet dream, mate. Besides we'll do a show for a couple of bottles of cheap vodka, and get a huge crowd, so everyone leaves happy."



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Click to watch:

ALESTORM "Keelhauled" video

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ALESTORM Live at the Corner Hotel (2010): Review



I knew this wasn't going to be just another show when what appeared to be a large pavlova cake sailed through the air out of the crowd landing on stage in front of the drummer with a tremendous splatter after just one song in. Alestorm singer and keytar player, Chris Bowes dips a finger in the mess and gives it a taste before throwing the remainder of the cake at the fans, saying "We're gonna get one hell of a cleaning bill tonight!" Anything seems likely to happen after this, and I joined the band in (probably) wondering if any more desserts were lurking in wait to be added vigorously to their rider.



Scotland's Alestorm, who by song and by appearance could defiantly shiver a few timbers, actually appear scared by the Melbourne audience's rabid response to them at the Corner tonight. I'm now certain they were expecting a humbled crowd, gasping at the primal display of ear splitting metal, instead the real brutes were in the pit en masse, dressed even more pirate-y than the band, making Alestorm appear as late comers to the party. But then billing yourself as a pirate metal band, meant that Alestorm were bound to attract your more debauched landlubber with a given excuse to drain the bar, gob all over the place, throw pavlovas and collect/deliver as many bruises as possible. The band's songs after all are about celebrating the hard living, hard drinking pirate and of course this theme has found a welcome reaction wherever they have played. It's easy to see why, I mean how can uptight emo bands or revered metal giants compete when a fan can leave a concert feeling like the band have just used you to mop the beer off the loo floor with?



Bowes, reading the crowd calls out, "Who wants to hear a song about big tits and beer?" Audience roars, Chris responds; "Good because we just so happen to have one of those!" The song of busty wenches and alcohol cunningly titled Wenches & Meade is too much for some fans and they begin hurling their bodies into each other at bone-cracking pace. All you can really hear coming from the stage is drums and shouting, but the muddy sound is a technicality really. You don't need to explore Alestorm's well crafted lyrics, but rather enjoy the simple repetition, much like listening to rhyming football chants. Despite this, Chris wisely announces each song with a massive build up so as to keep the momentum up.



As a live band, Alestorm are hilarious to watch as they deliver with such passion some pretty ridiculous anthems about beer, pillaging, Davey Jones' locker etc.. all in the single tempo of fast and raucous. Bushy haired singer Chris Bowe's voice is all angry growl, and kind of at odds with his narrow frame and feisty keytar playing. The rest of the band - rocking the beard with no moustache thang – looking as though they'd rather eat razor blades than crack a smile, played for all they were worth, but I still it felt like there was a little water in their gun powder tonight, resulting and smaller bang than maybe expected.





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Primal Scream live in Melbourne

Venue: The Billboard Club

Date: 08/02/09

“Melbourne’s mad for it, man – This place is like the Manchester of Australia!” High praise indeed from a true Manc legend, bassist Gary 'Mani' Mounfield, who in another life gave Stone Roses their signature sound and was courted by Oasis after the Roses demise in 1996. A man who’s boyhood dream was to become a chef, is now frying audiences minds as part of one of the most exciting/terrifying live bands to hit town in a long time. Pre-show, Mani is truly bursting to play tonight for a crowd who have probably been recovering for the last 9 years since Primal Scream last ‘did Melbourne’.

Tripping back to the 2000 Big Day Out, singer Bobby Gillespie kicked off the show with the single expression “Hey we’re gonna fuck yer!” before assaulting the crowd for 2 hours with the dense, heavy electronica of then current album XTRMNTR. Tonight, is the darker sequel. Although the bands’ most recent output has been less heavy and more song based, in the show, they arm each of the tracks with power-drills designed to penetrate the skull. The only light relief comes with the dreamy Higher Than The Sun from 1991’s breakthrough Screamadelica album. Before this single moment to breathe we are pummelled with incredible renditions of Kill All Hippies, Swastika Eyes and Miss Lucifer from their intense electro-metal phase. There’s no stopping between songs to tune up, or down either for this band, who crisply nail each song to the end of the previous one in an expertly managed unbroken flow.



The set is more or less a best of mix up, but with the criminal exception of favourites Loaded and Come Together. It’s hard to be picky over such things though when they deliver the meaty, funkified Jailbird, putting an instant end to the non-dancing that’s been prevalent tonight. It’s the stomp, and sing-it-back moment of the night: “I’m yours, your mine, gimme more of that jailbird pie!!” Who cares what it means, it just sounds fantastic. Meanwhile the room is awash in spectacular coloured lights, centre pieced with a single green laser light which act as fine embellishments to the mesmerising sound of the band reaching a critical pace.



The much loved Screamadelica album gets revisited with the stunning Shine Like Stars. This is a glimpse of the freelovin’ psychedelic Primal Scream who were put to bed many years ago in favour of the demon conjuring fuzz metal band of the 1999-2004 era. Martin Duffy's keyboard forces it’s way through the din with thick pulsing sonic squelches that rang in my ears long after the concert ended. Gillespie’s singing is suddenly louder and distorting as he tries to compete with the looping frenetic sample. The people at the front are all clapping in time, arms aloft. We’re now drenched in that spiralling laser light, as it broadens to fill the room, turning our view of the stage into a gorgeous neon tunnel with Primal Scream at the centre, enticing us into their crazy world. The goose bumps are set to remain as the rapid kick drum intro to Rocks lifts the whole room. Bobby’s in our ears, “Are you ready to get your rocks off Melbourne?!” We were, alright. Greatest party song, EVER. It feels like the end is coming. We sing/scream our appreciation through the chorus of Rocks and keep the love going as they leave the stage giving us our second moment to breathe. Then the encore, which nothing could have prepared us for. XTRMNTR album track, Accelerator screamed into life and fell upon us, heavy and sickening. The weight and power of this monstrous track will stay in our brains long after the show. The final kick came as Mani dropped his bass against his unnaturally huge amp, and shouts into Bobby’s mic, “Thanks Melbourne yoo fookin’ rock. Mad for it!” Leaving us with deafening feedback.

As the occasional light hits peoples faces, there’s a mix of shock and disbelief as we look around to readjust our eyes and our senses. I felt like my central nervous system had been ripped out and stuffed back in wrong way round. A wholly satisfying experience.



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