Leisure RSS Feed


Deacon Blue: Loaded and cool


FOR those of you who have been to a Deacon Blue gig, you'll know what I'm talking about. The rest of you, take notes.

About ten minutes into their set, four chords will ring out and singer Ricky Ross will croon softly: "You sing, you walk, you talk, you care about nothing . . ."

At this point, check your drink is held securely, make sure there are no young children under foot, and clench your fist.

As the chorus starts, middle-aged men and women will spring to attention, wide-eyed, and raise their arms in the air.

"I (punch) have found (punch) an answer (punch, punch), I don't think you don't care (punch), just you laugh (punch), 'cos you're loaded . . ."

If you're going to Cornbury Festival, try to learn these words, it will save a lot of embarrassment when you're jumping up and down beside a delerious Glaswegian.

And you will be jumping up and down. I've seen it happen, predictably, in front of a sell-out crowd at the opening night of the new Glasgow Academy venue in 2004. And I saw the same thing a year ago in front of 20,000 Deacon Blue virgins at the Kings Lynne Festival.

The song, one of the highlights of their million-selling debut album, Raintown, started off as a laid-back backing track, remembers Ricky Ross.

"I'd come back from holiday and Jim Prime (the keyboard player) had all this backing track pretty well written, but it didn't have a melody and it didn't have a lyric," he recalls. "But it sounded great and I really liked it. It was more laid-back at that stage it had all the melodic changes and stuff, but it didn't have the energy that came out when we recorded it.

"It was song that just clicked at that time. It was a song people could relate to, about people with ostentatious wealth pushing it in other people's faces.

"In some ways, the song has become more apt, because 20 years on, people are even more polarized. It seems in this country that there's so much wealth, but equally a lot of people with absolutely nothing."

Although the Scots icons sold over 6m albums and had 20 top 40 singles in the late eighties and early nineties, swaggering, idealistic anthems like Loaded and Dignity never sat comfortably with the nihilistic, hedonistic tastes of the emerging loadsamoney generation.

After a less-than-enthusiastic critical reception for their 1993 album, Whatever You Say, Say Nothing, recorded here in Oxfordshire at the Manor Studios and produced by Paul Oakenfold, the band called it a day.

Five years ago they returned with a new album, Homesick, but the demise of the record label as the CD hit the shelves, and the difficulties of even getting together in the studio in the first place, seemed to signal a final end for the band, especially as by now all of them were established in successful alternative careers, notably Ricky Ross himself as a solo artist and songwriter (his song High, a hit single for James Blunt, can be heard booming out in the German World Cup football stadia before and after every match), and his wife Lorraine McIntosh as a high-profile actress (she plays a lead role in the BBC's Scottish soap River City). The death from cancer of guitarist Graeme Kelling seemed the final blow.

But the audiences wouldn't let them fade away. The great and the good of Scotland and beyond packed out the opening night of the Glasgow Academy when they were invited to play their Raintown album from start to finish. Their occasional outings over the last few years have seen sell-out audiences and crowds in their tens of thousands (30,000 saw them usher in the New Year in Glasgow city centre).

Record company Sony took the hint; a new greatest hits compilation is in preparation for release in October, new material has been recorded, and the band is taking to the road for a 'proper' headlining tour again in the autumn. Suddenly, Deacon Blue are cool again.

Ricky Ross is quietly bemused at the enthusiasm of recent audiences. "It's great that people still have such affection for the band," he told me, "because we haven't done that much new material over the last ten years. We're really pleased that there are still people out there that want to hear us.

"We'd always planned to go out on tour this year at some point. I suppose we got together in 1985 and made our first record in '86, so we all thought this would be a good time to do something.

"We've done some one-off gigs, and they were great, but you tend not to change things that much, so the chance to go on tour, rehearse some new material and look at the whole show will be fun."

Ricky has come a long way in the 20 years since Deacon Blue released the million-selling Raintown album, a collection of idealistic pop anthems, shot through with a bitter subtext about disappointment and failing relationships in the Glasgow landscape of Thatcher's Britain.

The angry howl of the title track and the haunting despair of Town To Be Blamed seem a long way from Ricky Ross's more recent songs, like the James Blunt single High and This Is The Life, from his solo album of the same name.

Ricky acknowledges that life has changed a lot for him since 1986: "I don't think you can live life like I did back then it's not healthy. It was an explosion of writing at that particular time, and I don't think all of it was anger, a lot of it was disappointment. But you've got to be true to the way you are at the moment and, fortunately, now I'm quite happy.

"I'd rather be where I am now than when I was writing that record.

"It's been a very important journey for me, and a song like This Is The Life is not about complacency, it is just saying that sometimes you've just got to accept what you have, and celebrate it."

The band are particularly looking forward to returning to the Oxfordshire countryside.

"It was a very, very happy experience recording Whatever You Say, Say Nothing here," says Ricky. "It was a fantastic record to make, and it was a great time. It was at this time of year, and there was a heatwave, and it was lovely."

But the band's fans may have to wait a long time for another completely new Deacon Blue album. The difficulties surrounding the recording of Homesick have clearly left their mark.

"The last time was just too much pain," Ricky explains. "It was pain getting everyone together and painful to make. The record led to a lot of strife because people just weren't free, and therefore it wasn't as enjoyable as it should have been. Yes, Papillon (the now-defunct record label) were useless, but the actual process of recording wasn't their fault.

"For the tour and greatest hits record, we've planned it better. Everyone was free, we had a great three or four weeks recording three or four new songs, and it didn't take up too much time, and that's a nicer way to do it."

Ricky is particularly pleased with a song he co-wrote with his wife for the new album.

"It's a really great song called Haunted," he says. "It was a song that I started, and then Lorraine came in with this really strong idea which involved putting the tempo up quite quick, and a strong chorus. It's a very Deacon Blue track, but it's also got something new and contemporary about it."

Although Ricky is quick to dismiss the idea of a completely new Deacon Blue album in the forseeable future ("It would have to be a set of circumstances that I can't see at the moment, but we'll see what happens"), there's always the possibility that his wife may make her own individual contribution to the family discography.

"We've been talking about a solo album for Lorraine, but it's finding the time really, and the material," he explains. "The conversation comes up, but there's so many things to do. She's acting a lot, so it's difficult getting her free.

"But at some point, I'm sure she would like to do it.

"I'm busy writing songs for other people, and that takes up a lot of creative energy. Sometimes, when you try to do too many things at once, they all just go a bit pear-shaped.

"But I've been able to focus a lot of my energy at the moment on the Deacon Blue project, and this has been lots more fun to do because of that."

And when Deacon Blue are having fun, the mood is infectious. So get along to Cornbury on July 8, put your fist in the air, and remember the words: "I have found an answer . . ."

The Cornbury Oxford Festival is on Saturday, July 8, and Sunday, July 9, at Cornbury Park, near Charlbury. Tickets from www.cornburyfestival.com or phone 0870 1181636.



Local Advertisers

Local Information

Enter your postcode, town or place name

House prices »   Schools »   Crime »   Hospitals »