If there was a Top Trumps for ageing, northern frontmen, there would be several candidates staking a claim to being the Rolls Royce of rock and roll stars. In reality, there’s only a handful which stand out from the Ford Mondeo’s. Consider the options: there’s Liam Gallagher, lots of talk (or should that be torque?), prone to high profile incidents, temperamental, but capable of exhilarating performances – he is the Bentley of UK indie.
Then there’s Ian Brown. Steeped with a glorious past, bags of aggression and intelligence, but falls short of matching past glories. Brown is an Aston Martin DB7. Richard Ashcroft, like Brown, has an illustrious career which has touched the lives of millions. Lithe, quick off the mark, he offers dreams obtainable to the masses. Ashcroft is a Jaguar XK8. Rick Witter is a Vauxhall Nova.
But amongst the Capri’s and Caterhams, there’s one candidate consistently overlooked in the ageing, iconic northern frontmen stakes. His name is Tim Burgess. He is the lead singer of The Charlatans. Tim Burgess is unequivocally a Rolls Royce. For his personality, long lasting appeal, swagger and guile, Burgess should be considered among the greats of UK frontmen. He also has a penchant for Barry White, but that’s for later.
Eighteen years into a career which began in Northwich, The Charlatans released their seventh album, ‘Simpatico’ last month. They are about to embark on a US tour. The Tim Burgess Gigwise sees upstairs in the Carling Academy Islington, is dressed head to foot in denim, and sporting a few days stubble. It’s a world away from the floppy fringed kid who wrote indie disco perennial The Only One I Know. Maybe the LA sunshine has had a warming effect on his outlook. He’s been living their since 1998.
He’s here tonight to help judge The Road To V, a competition which sees 14 unsigned bands compete for a place on the bill at August’s V Festival. Tonight’s hopefuls are The Immediate, an energetic psych-pop quartet from Dublin, Keith, a Manchester four-piece who specialise in Primal Scream-aping stoned funk, and finally there’s north London’s The Pinch, who are fans of Elbow, Bjork and Tricky. Ten guesses who Burgess will be voting for…
Last year, Burgess released his first solo album, the Americana influenced I Believe. He admits that close mates “freaked out” over it possibly spelling the end of the band, but dismisses suggestions that the thought ever entered his head. He casually offers, “I just felt like a change in direction. After Wonderland the rest of the lads wanted to take a break but I didn’t and carried on writing.”
“I started to learn to play guitar, but I was too embarrassed to play in front of anyone else, so I started writing songs on my own.” Burgess set up a studio in his LA apartment so he could record whenever he wanted. That was eight years ago. He misses life in Manchester but still sees LA as his muse. “LA is home for me, the UK is home for The Charlatans,” he explains.
He then changes tact slightly: “The US is starting to feel like home now. That’s where my head is, but I’d like to have homes in a few places. Truth is, when I’m in LA I’m as far from New York as most people in Manchester are.” Point taken. Now back on familiar turf, The Charlatans are set to play Manchester. There will be no time to visit Northwich, but the evening promises a big tribal gathering for the Burgess family.
Burgess says following his creative muse and keeping The Charlatans together hasn’t been arduous. But his solo work is fragile, miles away from the grit and swagger of North Country Boy et al. “I guess it is a lot more introspective, I started to sing “I” instead of “we” a lot more,” he considers. “Most people in the world are very weak. I have always been self-assured with the music I and we have created but I can admit to not knowing it all.”
Considering the personal content of songs like Po Boy Blues, it sounds like writing can be punishing for him at times. There’s a pregnant pause before he adds mysteriously, “I just like to dig deep. I guess I am real and I push myself to admit the truth.”
Burgess says the leap from baggy to alt-country is neither untried or improbable: “Some Friendly was inspired by American ‘60s West Coast psychedelia and The Byrds. Plus the Rain Parade and the Long Ryders followed a similar path.” So what’s currently rocking the Burgess turntable?
“With I Believe I wanted to experiment with strings and brass. I was getting into Barry White a lot too. That’s all I’d listen to.” It begs the question whether Burgess ever considered the Walrus of Love to be unhip in any way. “It’s about being less blinkered about my tastes,” he explains. “When I was 17 I was really into hardcore punk. I couldn’t imagine ever being into anything beyond that. I thought I’d never love anything more, but now I’m into Barry White, Gram Parsons, Bob Dylan, everything. I’m just keeping my mind open.”
Gigwise asks Tim if he’s ever surprised how much the band has changed since it formed in 1988. He responds like Gigwise has taken leave of its senses. “Are you kidding? The only thing that hasn’t changed is our passion and feeling for the band and the music we create.”
So with The Charlatans growing old gracefully with a string of dates across the summer, including the Virgin Mobile V Festival and stints in Europe and Japan, the band are keeping the creative fires burning for sometime yet. Gigwise has one final question for Tim before it’s time to go. Did he ever feel a time had come to stop partying and do something else? “It came last month, though I had been dreaming of it for years,” he replies. He sounds vulnerable, determined, calm, and like he could take on the world any time he wanted.
Live photo by: Shirlaine Forrest
