Two Northern Lads: The Guardian with Hawley & an Arctic Monkey
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Artist:
The "Guardian":http://music.guardian.co.uk/rock/story/0,,2140315,00.html sits down with Arctic Monkeys' Alex Turner and Richard Hawley.
On a poor excuse for a summer's day, in a grey corner of west London, the fates seem to be conspiring against Richard Hawley. It's not enough that recent floods have damaged Lady's Bridge, the Sheffield landmark that gives the singer-songwriter's new album its title: they had to go and ban smoking in enclosed public places, too. "This bloke on the radio said he went to a pub and they were handing out deodorant to people," says Hawley, puffing away with gusto on the pavement outside the Cobden Club. "The smell of BO and stale beer is not a good combination."Hawley and Turner's friendship began on the night of the Mercury prize ceremony last September, when the Monkeys and Hawley were in competition. When Arctic Monkeys took the stage to collect their award, Turner quipped: "Somebody call 999 - Richard Hawley's been robbed." Not an entirely unexpected move from a frontman who would rather inhale powdered glass than blow his own trumpet, but one that gallantly granted their much-admired fellow Sheffielder a share of the spotlight.Some gems from the interview(s):So you'd really never met before the night of the Mercury Prize?Alex Turner: I think I served you at the bar once at [Sheffield venue] the Boardwalk.Richard Hawley: Oh, really? There's a bizarre connection: John McCann.AT: Oh yeah! That were weird, that. My grandad phoned me up and said, "Are you likely to see Richard Hawley tonight at that Mercury thing?" And I was like, "Yeah." And he said, "Ask him if he remembers John McCann." It's my grandad's wife's son.RH: John was my best mate. We got locked in the house once when we were four years old, and the fire brigade had to get us out.AT: I remember you talking about that on the night.RH: There's a funny picture of me and Alex talking together. I don't know if people thought we were having some deep conversation, but we were just talking about John McCann.--RH: I'm getting nervous about the British tour. It's four days on, one day off, and there's no way we're going to get through that without being utterly battered every night. I hate moaning about it because it's a right laugh most of the time. Without music I would never, ever have travelled anywhere. Holidays to us were a weekend in Rhyl, do you know what I mean? I went on my first tour when I were 14, touring strip bars. That were mad as fuck.AT: What tunes were you playing?RH: Just rockabilly and rock'n'roll. I don't think they gave a shit. I remember playing one gig in Tilburg where they had a revolving stage and a revolting audience. We played behind this curtain while the girl did her thing, then the curtains would open, the stage would revolve and we'd come on and do a 20-minute slot, and all the dirty old men would just lift their newspapers and endure listening to us until the stage revolved.--RH: ... About writing, do you find it easy or hard? You've just done an album after a really successful one, and my album were pretty successful for me. And then having to go in and record another album - did you find that a pressure?AT: No. I think because none of us wanted to exist as just that thing - that album and what went with it. We wanted to write tunes, because that's what we've always wanted to do. We'd get excited to do another one, because it's a laugh, innit? Messing about.RH: Yeah. My favourite thing in the world, apart from my wife and kids, is writing songs. Ever since I was a kid. When did you first find out you could write songs? Did you try to do it or did you accidentally discover you could?AT: Well, I only really properly started when I had the camaraderie of the band, because then it weren't me alone. I'd written things before but screwed them up because it's too uncomfortable. What about you?RH: I remember it really well. I were nine, laying in bed at night quite late, arsing about with my guitar, as I always have and always will. So my dad came up and were right pissed off. "What are you doing still awake?" And I said, "I've got this tune and I don't know whose it is." I thought I heard it somewhere. So he said, "Well, play it me." And I played it him. And he goes, "It's thine. Now go to fucking bed." And he turned the light off, and I was laying there getting my head around the concept of making music myself. I make songs up in bizarre places. Pushing kids on swings. In the middle of Tesco's.--AT: The Death Ramps is my favourite name for a band. Or just Death Ramp.RH: We're a bit old for that. It's more like Wheelchair Ramp. Or Stannah and the Stairlifts.--Both of you, in your different ways, have found success entirely on your own terms. Is there a knack to it?RH: It's not rocket science. Just don't do things where you feel a tool. That's the bottom line, isn't it? It's not being prissy. You just don't want to do something where you look like a knob-end.
On a poor excuse for a summer's day, in a grey corner of west London, the fates seem to be conspiring against Richard Hawley. It's not enough that recent floods have damaged Lady's Bridge, the Sheffield landmark that gives the singer-songwriter's new album its title: they had to go and ban smoking in enclosed public places, too. "This bloke on the radio said he went to a pub and they were handing out deodorant to people," says Hawley, puffing away with gusto on the pavement outside the Cobden Club. "The smell of BO and stale beer is not a good combination."Hawley and Turner's friendship began on the night of the Mercury prize ceremony last September, when the Monkeys and Hawley were in competition. When Arctic Monkeys took the stage to collect their award, Turner quipped: "Somebody call 999 - Richard Hawley's been robbed." Not an entirely unexpected move from a frontman who would rather inhale powdered glass than blow his own trumpet, but one that gallantly granted their much-admired fellow Sheffielder a share of the spotlight.Some gems from the interview(s):So you'd really never met before the night of the Mercury Prize?Alex Turner: I think I served you at the bar once at [Sheffield venue] the Boardwalk.Richard Hawley: Oh, really? There's a bizarre connection: John McCann.AT: Oh yeah! That were weird, that. My grandad phoned me up and said, "Are you likely to see Richard Hawley tonight at that Mercury thing?" And I was like, "Yeah." And he said, "Ask him if he remembers John McCann." It's my grandad's wife's son.RH: John was my best mate. We got locked in the house once when we were four years old, and the fire brigade had to get us out.AT: I remember you talking about that on the night.RH: There's a funny picture of me and Alex talking together. I don't know if people thought we were having some deep conversation, but we were just talking about John McCann.--RH: I'm getting nervous about the British tour. It's four days on, one day off, and there's no way we're going to get through that without being utterly battered every night. I hate moaning about it because it's a right laugh most of the time. Without music I would never, ever have travelled anywhere. Holidays to us were a weekend in Rhyl, do you know what I mean? I went on my first tour when I were 14, touring strip bars. That were mad as fuck.AT: What tunes were you playing?RH: Just rockabilly and rock'n'roll. I don't think they gave a shit. I remember playing one gig in Tilburg where they had a revolving stage and a revolting audience. We played behind this curtain while the girl did her thing, then the curtains would open, the stage would revolve and we'd come on and do a 20-minute slot, and all the dirty old men would just lift their newspapers and endure listening to us until the stage revolved.--RH: ... About writing, do you find it easy or hard? You've just done an album after a really successful one, and my album were pretty successful for me. And then having to go in and record another album - did you find that a pressure?AT: No. I think because none of us wanted to exist as just that thing - that album and what went with it. We wanted to write tunes, because that's what we've always wanted to do. We'd get excited to do another one, because it's a laugh, innit? Messing about.RH: Yeah. My favourite thing in the world, apart from my wife and kids, is writing songs. Ever since I was a kid. When did you first find out you could write songs? Did you try to do it or did you accidentally discover you could?AT: Well, I only really properly started when I had the camaraderie of the band, because then it weren't me alone. I'd written things before but screwed them up because it's too uncomfortable. What about you?RH: I remember it really well. I were nine, laying in bed at night quite late, arsing about with my guitar, as I always have and always will. So my dad came up and were right pissed off. "What are you doing still awake?" And I said, "I've got this tune and I don't know whose it is." I thought I heard it somewhere. So he said, "Well, play it me." And I played it him. And he goes, "It's thine. Now go to fucking bed." And he turned the light off, and I was laying there getting my head around the concept of making music myself. I make songs up in bizarre places. Pushing kids on swings. In the middle of Tesco's.--AT: The Death Ramps is my favourite name for a band. Or just Death Ramp.RH: We're a bit old for that. It's more like Wheelchair Ramp. Or Stannah and the Stairlifts.--Both of you, in your different ways, have found success entirely on your own terms. Is there a knack to it?RH: It's not rocket science. Just don't do things where you feel a tool. That's the bottom line, isn't it? It's not being prissy. You just don't want to do something where you look like a knob-end.
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