Starsailor interview

I interviewed Starsailor the other morning:STARSAILOR BASSIST JAMES STELFOX TALKS TO ROB TOWNSEND ABOUT REGAINING LOST PASSION

“People have called us a second-rate Coldplay.”

Despite a career that has spanned over a decade, seen them release top-ten albums and singles and tour with the likes of The Rolling Stones, critics, it seems, are all too dismissive of Starsailor. “We came in the shadow of Coldplay and I think it did us quite a bit of damage,” bassist James Stelfox (or ‘Stel’ as he likes to shorten his name to) frowns when asked if he thinks his band gets the recognition it deserves. “I like Coldplay as people and I think their music is alright, but they really weren’t an influence on me or the band at all. We’ve sold a lot of records, over three million or something, but we do feel slightly overlooked.”

While some sections of the music press may choose to ignore them (“We’re too fat to be in NME. You have to have skinny jeans.”), Starsailor’s longevity is such that their fourth album, All The Plans, has just hit the shelves, and their fan-base will be happy to learn that it is a return to their roots. “The third record [2005’s On The Outside] was our heaviest, and I think it alienated some of our fans, so we decided to go back to what we know best, which is the ballads. We went back to working with Steve Osborne who produced our first record and it just took a natural shape from there."
All The Plans has been a long time coming; over three years in fact, but even though Stelfox admits that band relations hit a low on their previous album, the bassist says there was never any doubt they would return for another outing. “I think we lost a bit of our passion on the last record. We’ve been together since 1998 and we were with each other all the time for seven years. There was quite a lot of internal squabbling at one point and we just needed a break. We took a big chunk of time out with our families and away from each other.” The long break clearly revitalised the British quartet, both musically and in terms of the dynamic of their friendship. “It’s the most enjoyable record we’ve made to be honest, because we’d had nine months off from each other and when we went back in [to the studio] we were top mates again. We’d lay tracks down from twelve until eight at night, then we’d go to the pub round the corner and get pissed. It was just fucking fun being in a band again.”

With this newfound joie-de-vivre also came a new working practice, with the band heading into the studio with very little material written. “We went in with nothing really – just basic melodies and a couple of chords. We’d get a groove down and just work along it. Obviously there are songs on the album, like Boy In Waiting, which Jim [singer James Walsh] had already written, but a lot of it was kinda from scratch in the studio, like Stars and Stripes, which is just a live jam. I think the second take of the song ended up on the album.”

The release of All The Plans will hopefully see Starsailor head this way again later this year. “We’ve only been to Australia once and that was probably about seven years ago,” Stelfox says with a level of incredulity in his voice that suggests he can’t believe they never returned. “We were going to go when Four To The Floor was out but we never made it. We’re all pushing to get to Australia on this record. We’ve got a couple of friends in Sydney so it’d just be nice to see them.” Almost incidentally, he adds. “And we’ll play a few shows while we’re there.”

A tribute to Andy Sibson

In my weekly newpaper column, I recently paid tribute to a former teacher of mine, who died earlier this year. I was out of the country when a tribute was held at my old school, but I was touched to discover the other day that my words were read out on the evening. Here is what I said, which made up part of a longer piece about Leicester City:...While we are on the subject of Leicester, I would just like to finish by giving a mention to Andy Sibson, a massive Leicester fan and deputy head-teacher of Cavendish School in Eastbourne, who passed away a couple of weeks ago after suffering a heart attack playing football. He taught me PE for five years and was one of the most positive, friendly and genuine people you could ever wish to meet. Whenever Leicester beat the Albion (which was pretty often in those days) he would send little mocking notes to me in the register, and such banter was one of the few enjoyable things about my school life. I know his death at just 51 years of age has deeply affected a lot of people, and Cavendish School and Sussex sport in general will be a sadder place without him. An all-round good bloke.

Sydney to Eastbourne.

It was a long way.

Arriving at Sydney airport shortly after midday on Thursday, I eventually made it home in Eastbourne, England, at around 2pm on the Friday, without more than a couple of hours stuttered sleep in between. Twixt these two locations I stopped in Auckland and LA. Weirdly, having flown for at least 15 hours, I arrived in LA an hour before I departed Sydney. No wonder I am jet lagged. On the Auckland-LA leg, the turbulence was so bad that the seat belt sign stayed lit for the entire journey.

Auckland was fun. Everyone talked like Brett and Jermaine. Quaint. LA was not so fun. Even though the stop was only for a refuel, I had to go through immigration and passport control where stoney-faced uniformed drones took my fingerprints and scanned my eyes. Pointless and officious.

To fill the 30 hours flying time, I watched a lot of movies. I saw the heartbreaking, stunning The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas (8-year-old son of Nazi officer befriends Jewish boy in death camp), the impressive Doubt (Did the Priest touch the little boy?), Burn After Reading (beautiful, clever people playing ugly dumb people. How very Post Modern), the fun Twilight (Dracula meets Dawson's Creek), W (it was good but I dozed off through too much red wine), Rachel Getting Married (I hated every character so only made it to the 30 minute mark) and The Day The Earth Stood Still (so, so dumb. Keanu Reeves as a higher being? Come on).

And so, I am back in Eastbourne. Tired. Bobbysix will continue to be updated with new good stuff while I am in England. So keep them peeled.

Telepathe - Dance Mother

TELEPATHE
Dance Mother

Brooklyn’s Telepathe are comprised of the impressively-named Melissa Livaudais and Busy Gangnes. In their equally awesomely titled album, Dance Mother, they showcase intense, claustrophobic electronica which sounds like it has been zapped into your stereo straight from the future.

The album was recorded under the watchful eye of Dave Sitek from TV on the Radio. Sitek's vintage synthesizer collection has clearly been put to good use and adds even more layers to Telepathe’s already intricate sound, which weaves in and out of genres. Down the spine of the songs are the two haunting female vocals, interchanging, chanting, harmonizing and playing off each other atop loops, guitars swimming in reverb and drum-machines.

With its ridiculously catchy tribal chorus, stuttering hip-hop and woozy atmosphere, Chrome's On It is a good example of the imaginative genre-hopping Telepathe offer. Meanwhile, Lights Go Down sounds like the kind of tune that would be playing in your average cyborg nightclub; emotionless vocals and all manner of weird Kraftwerkesque bleeps. In Your Line juxtaposes a similar synthetic backdrop with deeply personal lyrics, as does Crimes and Killing, during which Melissa Livaudais offers a typically understated vocal: “Let’s go make out in the snow,” she says. “I’ll fuck you up, you ought to know.”

Because of the avant-garde approach to song structures and sound, initially it all seems a little disorientating but everything soon starts to make sense. Equally atmospheric, serious, intelligent, confusing and challenging, Dance Mother is a visionary and intriguing album, and how often can you say that nowadays?

Passenger - Wicked Man's Rest

PASSENGER
Wicked Man’s Rest

Passenger are the latest middle-of-the-road pop-rock band to come out of the UK, headed by songwriter Mike Rosenberg, who clearly aims to come across as a tortured romantic type with his super-sensitive vocal. However, his delivery of lovelorn lyrics is actually rather insipid. Aside from the vocal, Wicked Man’s Rest’s opening title-track is pretty enough, but is followed by the misfiring Night Vision Binoculars. While it’s a perky little tune, it really doesn’t work with the lyrical content. A mildly creepy tale of stalking would be great were it delivered with the wry menace of Jarvis Cocker or the bursting heart of Morrissey, but Rosenberg’s presence isn’t strong enough to give the subject-matter plausibility. And while not being as good as Pulp or The Smiths is hardly a crime, the song does underline an inherent problem with the album. When Rosenberg sings about love (and he does it a lot), that’s exactly what it seems like – a man singing a song about love. Whereas a good love song pulls you in and immerses you right in the middle of its heartbreak, there is no real emotional connection here, which is strange because one look at the track-listing suggests the five members of Passenger are desperate to tug at the heart-strings (Walk In The Rain, You’re On My Mind, Table For One).

Sure, there is some accomplished musicianship here and a few sweet little melodies (even if things do seem a little measured), but in spite of Passenger’s overt attempts at sensitivity, Wicked Man’s Rest is simply too clichéd and bland to be emotive.

Cabins, Sherlock's Daughter and Bridezilla at the Annandale

I fly out of Sydney this week, back to cast my critical eye over the English music scene for a few months. On Friday I squeezed in one last gig in Sydney. Pleasingly, I was just a punter for this one, so my notebook stayed at home. I still had my camera with me though.There has been a lot of talk about Cabins (below) lately, who opened the night. There is potential there, if the hype-machine lays off them.Next up were Sherlock's Daughter (below), who were kinda wonderful. Quirky, eclectic and fun, their set improved with every song as their weird, cacophonous sound swirled around the room.Fittingly, my last gig in Sydney was the band I have been championing from the beginning. I have written enough words about Bridezilla (below and at top) already, but suffice to say I cannot wait for their debut album later this year.And so to England, where NME hails a new saviour of music every Wednesday...