Moody Blue
The List 12th -25th
March 1993
Rock is dead, long live poppy, kinda dancey Deacon Blue, making the girls
scream and the critics re-examine their prejudices with that ‘different’
fourth album. Craig McLean follows them south.
Jings baby. Ricky Ross wears chiffon and hair-gel and Ricky Ross sparkles
and glitters. Round the rest of his band the hand of a stylist hangs heavy, from
the crew-cuts to the flouncy shirts to the sequins. Sunglasses are de rigeur.
On the stage of the Clapham Grand Deacon Blue don’t play in their shades but
they play in the shade, half-lit on the platforms on which they are variously
arrayed. This is a club gig for Deacon Blue, 700 capacity, a warm-up and an
introduction. and the way ahead involves shadowy drama, a cheapo car mechanic’s
lamp, a tentacle- sprouting microphone stand, an overhead projector, and a piano
that is a cross between a candelabra and a climbing frame. The pre-show intro
tape culminated with ‘Last Night A DJ Saved My Life’. The show itself
climaxed with a cover of ‘Better The Devil You Know’.
This is Deacon Blue in 1993 and, as some other band has famously remarked,
everything you know is wrong. Deacon Blue now dig Kylie more than Brucie Deacon
Blue now do a single that has 125bpm and is a cult club cut. Ricky Ross
now appears for an interview at 10 o’clock in the morning with bits of glitter
on his face and in his hair. Whatever you say, say something. . . different ‘I
think it’s just a way of doing something new,’ says Ricky Ross. It is
Saturday morning in Pimlico. Last night was the second of Deacon Blue’s two
low-tech, hi-tack showcase. gigs in London. Former vest-wearer extraordinaire,
onstage Ross played the star- spangled star to perfection — girls screamed,
the glitter flew and Ross seemed born again. But then, ‘I think I’m more at
ease being me than anything else.
Whenever I try to be someone else I find it very difficult to do that. I think
probably most of it is just me and I’m just a natural show-off and this is a
new way of showing off.’ Acting a role and acting the goat. Deacon Blue, and
Ricky Ross in particular, aren’t allowed to do this, because of their musical
an imagical heritage and because another band beat them to it. Prior to Whatever
You Say, Say Nothing, their fourth album proper, Deacon Blue’s stock-in-trade
was their — and their songs’ — worthiness and plainness, betokening graft
and honesty and a frill-free approach to everything they wrote, played and said.
Ditto U2. Now, have Deacon Blue lost their over-worth’ pomp and their honesty
with it, replacing them with a pumped-up approximation of what it means to be
hip? Have Deacon Blue sought out a conferred coolness by roping in the ace, top
dog, tip top Perfecto production team of Paul Oakenfold and Steve Osbourne? Last
night a DJ saved their life?
Ross cackles and grins. ‘I imagined all these complete and utter cynics in the
audience going, Exactly!’ Exactly! Deacon Blue are laughing at the cynics and
more revelationally. lauehing at themselves. Around the time of Fellow Hoodlums
Ricky Ross had said: ‘There must be some room for destroying the star system
in pop music, some way you can have good pop music but you don’t need to
become some big superhero.’ Now, has he embraced the gaudiness of it all, the
oddity of a 35-year-old ex-teacher prancing about in strange gold shirts?
‘I’ve always been a great believer that there’s a lot of room there
to do things and there’s an audience there for a lot of things and I think in
a creative atmosphere there’s lots of room for different things.’ he fudges
quite splendidly. Luckily, the music isn’t quite so hesitant. Were Whatever
You Sax; Sax’ Nothing just a cheap exercise in hip-ifying a desperately un-
hip band, the calumny surrounding the DB/Perfecto collaboration would be
justified. As it is the songs stand up as the least self conscious and
self-important that Ross has ever written. The band are underplaying,
undersinging, economising where before aural excess ruled — ‘and that was
the biggest challenge.’ Here, now, there is simple blues (‘Last Night I
Dreamt Of Henry Thomas’) simple hope (‘Bethlehem’s Gate’), and
not-so-simple warrant sales (‘Cut Lip’). The suggestion that the production
mixing is in place to shore up flimsy empty writing and take the band to
previously uncharted commercial waters carries little weight. Indeed, only the
two singles, ‘Your Town’ and ‘Will We Be Lovers’ bear the blatant mark
of Oakenfold and Osbourne, the dance sheen of double ‘O’ heaven. ‘If I
felt there was some sense in which these weren’t the best songs I’d written,
if we were tarting something up, then I think it’d be really worrying.’ says
Ross.
It was the raw ingredients of Ross’s demo's that appealed to Paul Oakenfold:
‘I hadn’t really heard their stuff before and when I did I said. “No I don’t
want to produce this”.’ He admits to doubts when the idea of working with
Deacon Blue was first broached, but still agreed to meet Ross in December 1991
as the Fellow Hoodlums tour reached its end. ‘He had loads of songs and we
said, “If we’re gonna get involved you’ve got to go all the way.” And he
was really good about it. There's a lot of difference [between the old songs and
the new songs], there’s a lot of balls, attitude, aggression, more in tune
with what’s going on today than their old sound was.’
But why this change? Have Deacon Blue ‘done a U2’? Maybe, at a push, in the
image stakes (although on a much smaller, less costly, less imaginative scale),
but definitely not in the dance-remix stakes. ‘The funny thing is, I was
halfway through the Deacon Blue album and I stopped to do ‘Even Better Than
The Real Thing’,’ Oakenfold recalls. ‘That U2 track was just dance —
with Deacon Blue we were just making a good pop album, not a dance album. ‘It
was never going be a dance album, it was going be a good pop album with a bit
more attitude than Deacon Blue had previously. They definitely needed a change,
that’s why I suppose they chose us.’ Moreover, possessed of a solid
financial and fan-base, did the band veer off at a tangent for the same reason a
dog licks its balls -. because it can? ‘I think that’s part of the reason,
because you can do it,’ nods Ross. ‘But there’s also the whole psychology
of being in a band and what it takes for a band to stay together. For some bands
that might well be just keeping doing what they’re doing. But for us it’s
definitely like: “Let’s actually put ourselves under some adversity!” And
adversity’s always been good for us,’ he says, referring back to the
struggle of their first, success-free year together and the trauma of convincing
their American record company that When The World Knows Your Name just might
have been a going concern.
When it came to writing this album context, not pre-planned marketing, was all.
Where Fellow Hoodlums sounded humble and content, this one sounds raw, restless
and shifty. The seeds of this were in part sown by Sleeper, a collection of
songs that Ross wrote concurrently with Hoodlums — ‘Fellow Hoodlums was
accentuating the positive, Sleeper was all the negative.’ In December 1991,
playing Newcastle, Ross and Lorraine MacIntosh discovered that MacIntosh was
pregnant. Over the next few months Ross became embroiled in the rising tide of
Scottish nationalism in the run-up to the general election. Last June Deacon
Blue headed a Scotland United rally in Edinburgh and that weekend Ross wrote the
last track for Whatever..., ‘Hang Your Head’, ‘cos I was just in such
despair.’ Rawness, babies, disenchantment — from this came the new Deacon
Blue. ‘It’s just kind of focused now, it’s something we want to do and
have fun with,’ says Ricky Ross, a writer driven by a fitful and restless
energy. ‘I think because of my age — I was 28 when I did the first record
— I’ve always felt like I’m running out of time!’ But not out of ideas.
Whatever you say, say something... different. That, at last, is the Deacon Blue
way. Craig Mclean