Features
Chris Bailey: ‘I Really Enjoy Being An Old Slut’
By Andrew McMillen
Ahead of a one-off performance in Sydney tonight, ANDREW MCMILLEN speaks to Chris Bailey about his multiple plans for 2011; his on-again, off-again relationship with Ed Kuepper; and what he learned from American singer Judy Collins. Photo of Bailey/Kuepper by DANIEL BOUD.
[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.] When it comes to Chris Bailey, you’ve probably already heard it all before. If not, a potted history: Bailey is co-founder and vocalist of Brisbane-born punk rock act The Saints, who formed in 1974 and relocated to England in 1977 after signing a three-album contract with EMI and thumbing their noses at the limited opportunities for their music to be heard and supported here in Australia. They burned bright enough to release all three records within 18 months, before being dropped by their label after the jazz-influenced Prehistoric Sounds (1978) was a commercial flop. Despite three-quarters of the band departing soon after – including co-founders Ed Kuepper (guitar) and Ivor Hay (drums) – Bailey soldiered on with The Saints moniker, releasing an additional 10 albums, up to and including 2006’s Imperious Delirium. (Kuepper, annoyed by Bailey’s ongoing usage of the name, formed The Aints and performed reworked versions of vintage Saints material.)
An accomplished solo singer-songwriter with seven full-length releases to his name, Bailey’s only ever really done music. Born in 1959 to Irish parents in Kenya, he was 17 when The Saints took off, and he’s yet to let age slow his artistic progress. If anything, he seems to grow hungrier with each passing year: as he reveals in our 20-minute phone conversation, he’s got three albums due for release within the next six months; each separate projects, with different musicians.
Though we’re speaking ostensibly because of a planned show tonight (February 11) at Trackdown Studios in Sydney, it seems foolish to overlook the series of residencies that Bailey undertook with his right-hand axeman, Kuepper, throughout May last year – during which much was made of the tension, both real and perceived, between the two feted musicians – as well as the last occasion that The Saints (proper) played in their hometown of Brisbane, as part of the 2009 All Tomorrow’s Parties festival. Bailey – now based overseas – is a lively conversationalist. During our interview, I get the impression that there’s little difference between his playfully pompous stage manner, and the man himself.
To begin, let’s talk about the upcoming show. How did you come up with the idea to re-imagine some of your well-known songs?
In January, I actually came out [to Australia] to do some dates with [American singer] Judy Collins, and while a lot of people thought that was very odd, I really like Judy. I think she is in fact what the Americans call the “real deal”, and the opportunity to spend a couple of weeks in very close company, I just couldn’t resist because I have bucketloads of respect for the woman. I’ve got to tell you; it was the best couple of weeks of my recent life. It was really quite stunning. We were doing club shows and the occasional theatre, and in either environment, in a club show she was a 17-year old girl in New York in 1964. And then when we were doing theatres, she was this incredible show diva. When a performer knows how to take control of a room, it’s actually stunning. It was the best couple of weeks.
So ostensibly, that’s the thing that got me out there. The gig that’s coming up on Friday week is, for many years, I’ve been part of what we call the “Trackdown family”. We started off in very humble origins, and they’ve gone off to become a pretty major player in lots of areas. For the past couple of years [managing director] Geoff and I have been talking about going back and doing something rootsy. Even though I’ve just finished an album in France, and I’m not planning another Saints album until later in the year, I thought it would be just a really good opportunity to come back to this particular studio, which I love. I’m actually in here with an engineer at the moment, and we’re building up an album. That’s then linked to the fact that Geoff was going to do a little showcase for his new label, the Highway 125, which of course I shall play a part of, and he thought that it would be good if I put together a combo and re-imagined a couple from my catalogue. In fact, I’m just going to put together an eclectic little bunch of musos, all acoustic, and we’re just going to bang out some songs.
The press release says you’re planning a “surprise line-up”. What can you reveal about who’s playing?
[Puts on German accent] “It will be people. People, not machine. Man defeats machine.” Okay, I don’t usually write press releases, obviously. I mean, it’s not a rock band … In fact I’m going to be using a piano, lots of cellos; probably a banjo, because I quite like that instrument at the moment. Geoffrey just gave me carte blanche because they’re a scoring stage, so we have all these musicians on tap. I can indulge myself. Which is what I fully intend to do.
Are you able to talk about the song selection that you’ve arranged for the show?
I chose all the sooky, folk-like, turgid ballads, because one funny thing I noticed when I was touring with Judy, even though I’m quite a gregarious and jolly fellow, most of my catalogue is mind-numbingly dark, and in minor keys. It’s really weird. So I chose all those really horrid, slash-your-wrist songs, and Geoff in his wisdom has popped in the rockier ones. So it’s a mishmash.
I did a record years ago called Savage Entertainment [1992]; we’ll visit that. I’ll probably throw in one or two Saints songs just for the hell of it. There’s an album that I didn’t even know was ever released in Oz, it’s called 54 Days At Sea, which I made with a bunch of Bolivians. We’re doing a couple of tracks off that. I’ll probably do ‘In The Mirror’ because I quite like it. ‘Photograph,’ I quite like that one as well. ‘Do They Come From You, that’s from Savage. Oh, Howling, one of Geoffrey’s favourite records, which was this lo-fi thing I did at the end of the ’90s [with The Saints, in 1997]. He actually dragged it out of his cupboard and we’re doing something from that, but how it’s going to translate from really lo-fi grunge into the folk world, I’m not totally sure, because we haven’t rehearsed yet, and the gig’s next week!
As a songwriter I’ve always held the belief that a tune should be able to survive in any genre or medium. Let’s bloody well hope that’s true, otherwise there will be some unhappy customers throwing party pies at me.
You don’t want to upset the customers
Absolutely not, no. I’m here to serve. I’ve become rather humble since my Judy tour. [Laughs]
When was the last time you opened a tour like that?
I’ve never done that, really. I’ve done the first part at lots of things, but in fact it was more like a night … I don’t want to use the word cabaret because it certainly wasn’t cabaret, but it was kind of like a “night out”. That’s how I kind of saw it, because one part kind of segued into the other. I think if we’d had more time to prepare, it would have probably segued into us doing stuff, because we both love [Jacques] Brel. Because I put some Brel into my set, and of course Judy put Brel into her set. When I put Irish folk music in, she did the same. It was very, very sweet. I loved it. Actually, I did a tour with Wendy Matthews once. Does that count?
Yes, that does count, Chris.
OK, well there you go. I thought that was really weird, because that was back in the day when she was quite a pop star and all of that. Her manager had this very naughty idea that I would make an interesting first part. I don’t think Wendy’s audience thought that, but what the hell. It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry!
How were last year’s shows with Ed [Kuepper] for you?
They were last year’s shows with Ed, yeah. They were alright, I thought. We actually hung out for six weeks. I thought they worked, actually. It certainly was interesting. In fact, we did a couple of little sessions, and the engineer asked me “You chaps haven’t been in the studio [together] for years, have you?” “No.” He said, “Is it any different?” And I went, “No.” And weirdly enough - and this is not with disrespect, this is with great love - given there was a very long time gap, it was pretty much the same dynamic as it ever was. Which is either really depressing, or really very uplifting. Even though we’re both doddering middle-aged men. I don’t know whether you saw any of them, but for, like, two blokes banging guitars, it was not a bad noise.
[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]
I saw the first show in Brisbane. What was the reasoning behind ending each show with ‘Send In The Clowns?’
[Laughs] Isn’t it funny that several short months later I’d be out [touring] with the woman who actually made that song rather famous? Well, I think it’s a stunning song. It really is stunning, and Ed had sent me some cover song ideas. He sent the Melanie song that we did (‘Lay Down (Candles In The Rain)’). I would never have thought of singing that song. I really quite like it, but I just thought it was so much … The signature song of Melanie. I thought, “Don’t touch it, it’s perfect.” But I thought we did a half-decent version of it, actually. In response to that, I kind of suggested, “Why don’t we do ‘Send In The Clowns’?” Because you know, Ed had his Laughing Clowns, and I thought it was just funny. Because apparently I have a very bad sense of humour. I personally quite like it, but [drops into a spot-on impression of Kuepper’s voice] Edmund thought it was, “Chris being a bit funny.” Until we started playing it! And then the fact that it is such a quality tune … I actually thought the vaguely Celtic treatment we gave it made it kind of work. It was quite funny when we first rehearsed it - and don’t print this because it’s going to wreck my reputation - but I was almost a little teary-eyed. Because [Stephen] Sondheim obviously is a great writer, and it’s one of those things where it’s very simple, but it’s where the text and the melody gel in such a way that it’s otherworldly to me. So that’s why we ended with it.
I notice that you were both relying on lyric sheets while you were on stage. Are you forgetful in your old age?
[Laughs] Well actually, lack of familiarity with the repertoire. I hate using lyric sheets, but I don’t know whether you noticed that ‘The Ballad Of Hollis Brown’ [the Dylan tune they opened with] has about 6527 verses in it. I just had a little prompt and then because … Call it pretension for my part, because my sheets had my notes for tunes of Ed’s that I wasn’t that familiar with. After about the third gig I didn’t bother with them, but I just kept taking all these sheets with cartoon drawings and stuff up on the stage. [Laughs]
I don’t usually sit down and perform. I’ve never done that and I haven’t done it since. I usually think that if you go and do a gig, you should stand up, to show at least you’re vaguely interested in what’s going on. I guess we decided that we would sit down, which was bloody weird. I kind of got used to it after a while, but it was a bit odd. But the great thing about working with Ed is that we’re such both little emperors in our own little empires, that having to work together means a certain amount of compromise. [Laughs] Which for him is not easy, I can just tell. And I’ve just kind of gotten used to being a very benevolent dictator. So that aspect was actually … [whispers] interesting, is the word I use.
I’m friends with Ed on Facebook.
Ooh! Eddy does Facebook?
He does. He’s got like 1100 friends. He’s really gotten into it.
Really? Wow!
And through that, I saw photos of you two recording together last year.
Mmhmm.
What’s the latest on that project?
You’d have to ask Eddy. I haven’t got a clue. I’ve got no idea.
Would you do something like that duo tour again?
Look, I’m very open-minded. In fact, I’ve spoken to Ed, and obviously he’s not in the best frame of mind at the moment [due to his parents losing their home during the January floods]. Yeah, of course, of course. As the James Bond franchise would tell you, “Never say never.” I mean, in all honesty - negating any flippancy from my voice - I have extreme respect for Ed’s talents. I think he’s really good. I think he’s his own worst enemy. But yes, I think we actually could do good work. And hopefully when I come to Brisbane I’ll get to see him, even though I’m only up there for a night. I think we should actually at some point do something like that again. I think he’s a bit busy. I’m up to my eyeballs in it. As you may not know I’m actually in a French band now. I’ve committed a year to that project. We’ll see. But you know, hopefully I’m also going to be able to make it out here once or twice more this year, so we’ll just try and find … Also I’m babbling here. [Changes to a self-lecturing tone] Short, succinct answers! Yes, I think it would be a really good thing, and I’m sure we’ll get it together one day! Fuuuck me. I’ve been doing PR all my bloody life, and I still babble.
You’re in a French band and you just finished recording a solo album, is that right?
Well no. I’ve done the Froggy band. That’s all done and dusted, and mastered. It’s released toward the end of March. This album, the way I’m recording it, I’ll have it finished the end of this week. That will be a solo album, and we’re going out on the road in April. So at some point I think the next project probably will end up as a Saints album, I suspect, because I’ve left all my really noisy songs [for that project].
“The great thing about working with Ed is that we’re such both little emperors in our own little empires, that having to work together means a certain amount of compromise.”
Do you miss your noisy songs?
No. Look, I really enjoy being an old slut, I have to admit, and jumping the genres – I’m so grateful that I’m in a position where I can do that. I mean, god, I’ve got three albums coming out within six months, that’s not too bad in the music business that’s forever whinging about how diabolical things are. Because I don’t think things are diabolical. I think it’s pretty much the same as it ever was, except the means of production has been taken out of the hands of the corporations and pretty much put back in the hands of the workers. And the whole world is fed on a Disney diet, doesn’t matter whether it’s ganster rap or pop or whatever. It’s all X-Factor, Disney bollocks, and people can only eat so much of that shit before they die. It’s like eating processed food. It’s not that good for you.
So there are a bunch of bastards around the world that just want something a little bit more “beefy.” I don’t know if you’re a vegetarian; something with a bit more grain in it. And so people like me, that’s amazing. That’s a really good place to be in. And we’re back to the era of independence; people who think a little bit laterally. There’s a bit of it here, a bit in France, in Canada, the US, all across Europe. It’s another network now, and it’s a bit interweb-related, but it’s just people who actually give a shit about music, basically. That’s a nice gang to hang out with.
Will you be looking to tour with The Saints again, once that release comes out?
Yeah, probably. In fact my big ambition is to get the Froggy band out here, because I think A) They would love it; and B) we’ll probably get more girls, because [puts on French accent] they speak with a delightful accent! “I’m French, I’m very attractive! Ah-huh-huh!” I’m sorry I’m being such a racist, but I can’t help it.
You keep referring to them as “the Froggy band”. What are they called?
I’m having a fight with them at the moment because it’s actually going to be marketed as me and this bloke called Hash Burns. And Hash Burns in French actually is quite funny, because “hash”, being drugs, it’s awfully naughty. But unfortunately in English speaking countries, Hash Burns becomes H. Burns, which is not quite so amusing. But that’s what the French want to do; I think they want to cash in on the name, and all that sort of bullocks. So it will be “Chris Bailey and Hash Burns”.
On another topic entirely, The Saints’ album (I’m) Stranded was ranked number 20 in the book 100 Best Australian Albums last year.
Really?
Does that sort of acclaim mean anything to you these days?
Well, I don’t know. Does it come with a cash prize and a poodle?
I guess not, if you didn’t receive either of those.
That’s very nice. I hope it comes with a poodle though. That’d be nice. I could feed it to my cats … No, I don’t mean disrespect. Lists all fine and great, and isn’t that fantastic?
Short, succinct answers.
Yes, that’s the way to go! [Laughs]
I saw The Saints at the Riverstage in 2009.
Oh god, that was shit.
I’ve always been curious as to why you didn’t play ‘(I’m) Stranded’ that night.
[Pause] Nick [Cave and the Bad Seeds’] bloody roadies moved the bloody amps, is the simple answer to that. I know I’ve read that Ed said I didn’t want to do it, which is [pauses] neither here nor there … But they just moved the amps. And Johnno, our roadie kind of went, “But, but, but...” And that conversation probably lasted the three minutes and 40 seconds of the allotted time. So that’s the simple truth. No big drama or big argument about it. There was no philosophical intent not to play it. [Laughs] It was, in fact, meant to be the last song. I’m sure there are setlists floating around, that will in fact [adopts posh-sounding accent] point to that very reality.
Thank you for clarifying.
No problem, Andrew.
Anything else you’d like to add before we hang up?
Strange enough – and this must be unusual for a rock singer – I’m actually not pushing any particular PR line at the moment. The gig on Friday will actually be really cool. The fact that, for me, it’s an unusual arrangement of instruments. The last few times I’ve been out here it’s been with those ancient Saints things, so it’s kind of nice to be in a different musical environment. And then there’ll be more of this shit later in the year when I’m actually pushing for press. Well, I look forward to speaking with you again next time. I’ll try and have my “succinct answers” down by then! [Laughs]
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