Suddenly, Black appeared. A band, a person, that wasn't totally clear. 'It' couldn't be classified in a certain music genre. One could say no more than that here was some intense, but well thought out pop music. And that 'it' appeared in the charts almost from one day to another. Meanwhile, there's nothing mysterious about Black. It's simply Colin Vearncombe from Liverpool with whom one can easily make a conversation.
For Colin Vearncombe it was always difficult. In 1981 he belonged to a trio calling themselves Black. The one major accomplishment was a single released by an independent record company that sold next to nothing.
Colin: 'It became incredibly frustrating, that band. Especially since I was the only one who really wanted to commit myself to it. The other band members were always too late at rehearsals, never wrote a song, never wondered if there were any travel arrangements when we had a gig. But they did of course have an opinion on everything.'
Colin fired his fellow band members ('since they weren't that much cop at being musicians anyway') and began a duo together with Dave Dickie.
It went a little better from then on. The duo Black signed a record contract with the major record company WEA. In 1984 the first single, Hey Presto, appeared, and only a year after that, the second one, More than the sun. Both singles failed to enter the chart and the record company gave up.
'In fact they already gave up after the first single. WEA is typically a company that just releases some singles to see what happens with them. They aren't interested at all in which artist sells, as long as they keep their fair share in the market and the singles charts. Long term investments were considered as a waste of money.'
Colin didn't have a record company anymore, no companion either, since Dave decided he wanted to be a producer. Added to all this, the divorce of his wife. Colins reaction was to write a single which he made on his own and released on the independent Ugly Man label. Wonderful life.
'Everyone always thought my songs were too gloomy. So I gave one of those gloomy songs a positive title, Wonderful life, and suddenly the reactions changed. That does say something about how people tend to listen to their music. Personally I feel it's ridiculous that songs always have to be upbeat. In a music journal they once wrote about me that I would probably sing a line like 'Everything's coming up roses' as an announcement of my suicide. I liked that. I like a certain ambiguity. Songs, in which cynicism, the black undercurrent only becomes clear after repeated listening. Just like Wonderful life or Everything's coming up roses at first seem tragic, but they really aren't. It's the same with movies. I like movies in which you don't know whether to laugh or cry. Films that manipulate you so much that you can laugh while someone is being killed before your very eyes, and you realise it at the same time as well. In pop music, I like it when something is pathetic and ironic. I certainly try to achieve that effect.'
The single Wonderful life was a reason for record company A&M to sign a contract for three albums. From then on, things moved very quickly. The album Wonderful life appeared in England and achieved the gold status on pre-orders alone.
'Really, I don't know what's happening to me. I would have thought - and the record company as well - that this album would sell more and more as time went by, and that there would only be a commercial breakthrough after the release of the second album.'
You can certainly be suprised at the sales figures of Wonderful life (in the Netherlands as well), because the music of Black cannot easily be compared to other successful songs. (Perhaps maybe with Morrissey of The Smiths.) On top of that, it's very serious. Not pop music that easily connects with teenagers. Stylish, sparsely arranged songs, mostly about passion and the painful aspects of it in particular: 'I think my heart must be made of clay, / 'Cause everyone said it would be broken some day, / And now I've come to that fateful day'. Music by Black is good for listening to, especially on a rainy day. I find it breathtaking at times.
It's over, it's over, it's over.
To what degree are your songs personal?
My best songs are always the most personal. Those are also the songs that are the most successful. The more fictitious a song is, the less response I get. Songs like Wonderful life and Sweetest smile are very dear to me. I cherish them like children.
What quality does music you like have to have?
At the moment I'm into Roy Orbison. I play him all the time. I've only recently discovered his music. The alienation in a song like It's over, that really grabs me by the throat. I also listen a lot to Scott Walker. I like melodramatic records. As long as it doesn't become too arty, like Japan. I felt that was so selfconscious, so overcultified. It must have something direct, there has to be some sort of contact between the music and the world which I live in. If Roy Orbison would only sing 'It's over, it's over, it's over' (Colin sings it), that's what I mean. I try to make such effects in my music, but I am not as good at it. If I listen to old music of myself, I think it's too arty as well, so maybe I'm a bit oversensitive on that point.'
You live in Liverpool. Were you born there?
'Yes.'
I can imagine that you would make very politically tinted music if you come from such a city.
'The interest in Liverpool for politics is very minimal. There is a repulsion for every political system. They are all convinced that it doesn't matter who's in power. The Liverpoolers think of themselves first. They are relatively agressive. Very competitive as well. It isn't that weird that football and pop music are so popular there. If you have to climb to the top at someone else's cost, it's in those businesses. And then they're awfully proud as well. Don't ask me why, because I think there's nothing to be proud of at all.'
It seems a very poor city.
'In some places it is. But the biggest part of it is neither rich nor poor. Outsiders are too easy to describe Liverpool as poor. Or they only talk about the tourist venues: the Beatles tours with Japanese tourists. The real Liverpool can only be seen when you go to the pubs on Saturday evening near closing time. Not that I like to be in the midst of that. It's all very threatening.'
I was told that Liverpool people have a very specific sense of humour.
'Yes, it's very popular to take the piss out of eachother. It continues during interviews, which causes miscommunications. Especially someone like Ian McCulloch of Echo & the Bunnymen has offended people with that. Because if you read it in a music journal, there's no humour in that, it comes across as arrogance. And often it's just naivity among pop musicians. They seem to forget that journalists enjoy writing about scandals.'
Have the Beatles been important for you?
'Not at all. I can only remember that the Beatles were totally ignored in Liverpool. I don't know if this was caused by envy. I think it was a process we were unaware of. They were written about so much, it was so omnipresent, that you would automatically come to ignore it. They weren't my heroes when they were popular and I can't remember that it was something you would talk about in school. On that age, you like to choose your idols from as far away as possible. I can say now that I did underestimate them because they were so good musically... I think they will listen to it in hundred years from now. Which is more than you can say for most pop music. But at the time we wanted to have our own bands, bands that weren't so well-known, bands that fitted our own individual styles. That has improved since then. Take new age music, for instance. It's made especially for those ex-hippies who still prefer to listen to the old Pink Floyd albums. I wish they did. Now there's music made especially for them which has more to do with atmosphere and less with music. And people like Brian Eno, who were only doing their own thing, are being named the pioneers of a new social movement. Ridiculous, of course.'
Startrek
What is your biggest ambition?
'My biggest ambition is that one of my songs becomes a classic. Something that people hum for themselves without really knowing what they are humming. I don't want to make music for one specific youth culture, I want to make music for everyone. Just like in Africa or Asia. I think that music for a specific subculture will become too narrow, too focused. The choice has become bigger for young people. They have their own personal computer, their VCR; there's much more than pop music alone. And the older people are getting more spare time. More time for pop music too.'
But if you'd want to reach to that group you would have to adapt your music as well
'Not at all. No-one knows what a commercial song is anymore, so no-one can write them on demand. Ridiculous songs are hits these days. Take that horrible Startrek song for instance. It was number one in England for weeks, and it was nothing at all. How could you predict something like that?
You seem to aim for a very clear sound.
'I don't do that myself. It's mostly the work of my producer, Dave Dix. My biggest concern during the final mix is if the voice can be heard enough without it starting to sound too ridiculous. For me, the vocal is the central point in the song. It seems like most producers concern themselves more with the bassdrum. I don't think a record has to sound especially beautiful. All those old records have been recorded in a horrible way, haven't they? But they sound good because the songs are good. And because of aiming for sparseness.
Sometimes it seems like everyone is only content when at least five melodies can be heard at once. I think it's a way to conceal artistic poverty'.
That simpleness is also a trend.
'O yes, and meanwhile there's some beautiful pop music that isn't at all simple. The Associates for instance, or Kate Bush. The kind of music in which so much happens that you discover something new every time you listen to it. And that's the kind of subtleties in which I am interested myself.'
It seems like you work more with conventional instruments than with computers.
'That only seems that way. Dave, my producer, has made it a hobby to make computers sound like regular instruments. For instance, only one track on the album contains real drums and I defy you to point out which one that is. I prefer working with machines to working with people. Machines always do what you want from them. With people it gets messy.'
I felt there were some intriguing lines in your songs. 'Now it's complete / Ravel is in the rain / Standing in my dream street / I'd like to meet Ravel in New Orleans'
'Dave Dix was playing on the piano in the studio and that suddenly turned into a piece of Ravel, which then turned into something jazzy. The lyric I was working on at that very moment were a bit dreamy, something surreal, the kind of lyric in which you could write almost anything. And so the idea came in: Ravel in New Orleans. I've never been to New Orleans myself, but... I felt it was a very strong image. It is important that sometimes something like that appears in a song. Images you don't forget.'
It seems like some Spanish music comes to the surface.
'Yes, in Blue for instance. That's true. In that song I try to equate the Spanish civil war with the political situation in Liverpool at the time. I know that you wouldn't get it out of that song, and it surprised people I told this. Because no-one expects political songs from me. I have tried to write outspoken political songs, but I couldn't. I can't get any depth in them.'
Even the Pet Shop Boys have written political songs.
Yes, I know. And they weren't bad. I like their way of working with cheap Italian disco. I also like their bad presentation. I think it's worth something in a world full of forced smiles.