In 1987 the world reverberated to Black's "Wonderful life". Now the band's frontman, Colin Vearncombe, is back with a new album, "The accused". Prosecuting: Joel Mc Iver.
The Liverpool of the early 80s was a hotbed of musical activity. Luminaries from this time include Echo & the Bunnymen, Julian Cope and Frankie goes to Hollywood. Another such talent was Colin Vearncombe, who together with Dave Dickie issued a single "Human features" on the small Rox label in 1981. Its initial pressing sold out rapidly and the attention of Pete Fulwell (then managing the Mighty Wah! himself, Pete Wylie) was roused.
Fulwell recommended that the duo, known as 'Black', sign to the Wylie-sponsored lable Eternal and a second single, "More than the Sun" also did well, but the next release, "Hey Presto" failed to chart and Dickie left the group. Vearncombe struggled on alone until 1987, when he was offered a deal with A&M, who had become aware of Black due to the minor hit of "Wonderful life" which had been issued on the indie label Ugly Man. The single "Sweetetst smile" became a Top 10 hit and "Wonderful Life" was re-worked and re-issued, becoming an enourmous hit across Europe. The "Wonderful life" album (1987) built on this success, reaching No. 3. However, Black's subsequent LPs, "Comedy" (1988), "Black" (1991) and "Are we having fun yet?", which Vearncombe issued on his own Nero Schwarz label in 1993, all fared poorly, despite having evident commercial flair. Vearncombe has since remained out of the public eye, but has recently commenced a round of publicity in preparation for the imminent release of a new CD, "The Accused". The album is a return to "Wonderful Life" form and has been compared favourably with Scott Walker. The first single, "Sleeper" has been hailed as perfect pop and bodes well for the future. Record Collector caught up with Colin in Sweden.
What are you doing in Sweden?
I'm having a break, and I'm writing a piece for soprano and acoustic guitar.
A classical piece?
Yes, although I hesitate to use that term. It's of that genre.
You're in good company. Paul McCartney and Elvis Costello have composed classical music, haven't they?
Yes, and that was a mistake, because Elvis sang it himself. I don't want to be involved in anything other than the composition. I'm even getting a session guitarist in.
So even though you've got a new album out, you're still writing music?
Yes, I've rediscovered my thirst for music.
What have you been up to for six years?
Waiting for the smell to clear (laughs). It's official -- I'm too old.
How old are you?
I'm 37.
You're older than Steps!
Yes I am. I actually had a marketing person say to me the other day that if I'd been ten years younger I'd have got a deal with any record company in London. As it is, I'm in a funny position -- I'm neither an established artist, nor young and trendy.
You went on a songwriters' weekend in 1998, hosted by Squeeze's Chris Difford. What was that like?
They called it a symposium, which sounds very grand, but basically it was spending time with people who do what you do. Mostly they were people who you wouldn't want to spend much time with.
Why not?
Well - I'll tell you this because I told him this too - the first person I saw on walking through the door was Gary Kemp, sitting by the fire, and I almost walked back out and went home. I thought, if this is what this is all about... because I really, really hated those later Spandau Ballet singles. But he turned out to be one of the weekend's major revelations. He was there to learn from others, not just to show what he could do, and a nice bloke as well. What happens is, they put you in a group of three after breakfast, and you write two or three songs over the day, and then you perform them after dinner. You're really put on the spot.
Was the atmosphere positive?
Yes. There were one or two arseholes, but then there always are. It's not like some other weekends, for example Miles Copeland's at the Chateau, where Miles has one of his writers in every group of three. Songs get cut very soon after those weekends.
That sounds a bit more cynical.
Well, that's the nature of the business. What we've seen in the last ten years is that it's become increasingly difficult to make money purely as a performing artist, so this has led to people writing songs who really shouldn't, people performing songs who really shouldn't, and people doing both who really shouldn't.
Surely people should be able to have a crack of the whip if they want to?
Yes,
But that's not what you just said.
Hmmmm. Well, OK, but I wouldn't want to change places with Geri Halliwell for anything in the world.
I wouldn't mind her money.
Yes... actually I didn't make an awful lot of money out of my music.
You're not a wealthy man then?
Oh, I'm doing OK.
Do the royalties from "Wonderful life" still come in?
Yes. There are so many ways to make money from music.
Did that insurance company pay a lot of money to use it in their ad a few years ago?
Oh yes, they always do. Otherwise, you say no.
Why did you call your new album "The Accused"?
What do you call a Scouser in a suit? (laughs.) I love that kind of joke, but more than that, I was getting sick of answering the same old accusations.
What were the accusations?
Well, I dn't want to, er... in case I re-incriminate myself. Basically I wanted to move on, which is why I'm dropping the name "Black", to try and get away from all that.
Do you think people will recognise the name Colin Vearncombe?
Probably not. But on the other hand, I wrote a song which I come across all over the world, and no one knows who wrote it then.
Has anyone ever suggested a dance remix of "Wonderful life"?
Oh, it's been done. There was a Turbo Techno version in one of the Eastern European countries. It sounded exactly as you'd expect. I can't really comment on its quality.
So you don't listen to it every morning when you're making the tea?
No. I don't even keep copies of the records, and I don't subscribe to the dance music ethic in any way, shape or form.
You don't go clubbing?
No. I stopped going clubbing just when everyone else started thinking it was really important. Back then they played music which everyone liked, but now people's interests have fragmented so much. You've got one magazine for fly-fishing, four magazines on the pleasures of wearing woolly trousers, six magazines on jumpers (laughs). Actually, Record Collector could be seen a bit like that as well! There's an anorak inside all of us. We all like getting the crossword done.
There's a supposed 80s revival going on at the moment. Culture Club, ABC and the Human League have all reformed and toured. Do you consider yourself a part of that?
I wouldn't want to be involved.
It's supposed to be very lucrative for the bands involved.
Well, I can't think of any other reason why they'd do it. You see, we always fell into two camps. There were those who were happy to run with the light-entertainment bit, and those who felt that pop music - in its oldest sense - was redemptive and reflected the culture in which it occurred. Having written a couple of songs that people have got sick to death of after hearing them a million times, I can't imagine why I'd want to release them again.
The song "Everything's Coming Up Roses": happy or ironic?
That was a bit of an attack, really. I was having a bad time.
Why was it so bad?
Well, I've always said that 1987 was overshadowed by Halley's Comet. Everything went wrong. I was dropped by publiser, record company and wife, I had a couple of bad car crashes and my mother was ill. I got pretty shitty about all that and started taking it out in my songs. I spent two or three years sifting through the wreckage.
Do you think people think your career only ever revolved around one song?
Well, I am a one-hit wonder -- or a three-hit wonder, anyway -- so they're nearly right, but I don't judge myself in those terms anyway.
You sound very composed about it all.
Well, I'm a grown-up!
What was it like working with Robert Palmer on the "Black" LP?
Amazing! Getting in the producer's chair with him was great. He's very keen on the nuts and bolts of music. One of the reasons I went with him was because he always gets attacked, like me, for everything in his life except the music.
What's it like being a label head?
Terrifying! (laughs).
Why? Because you're competing with the majors?
No, because at the top there's more room than you can shake a stick at. It's at the bottom, at the scummy end, where it's pressured. I'm enjoying the hands-on aspect of it all - carrying amps, meeting deadlines and sticking to a budget - but it's quite worrying not knowing what's going to happen next.
So you've got a good head for commerce?
No, but I know people who have. luckily.
How would you like your music to be remembered?
(thinks) With glee! Actually I don't much care if it's remembered. I think as a body of work it's come pretty close to the potential that it had. Someone told me the other day that my music is too intelligent to be successful.
Well, this industry isn't exactly renowned for its high IQ.
No. I suppose it's helpful if you're in touch with the common man and what he wants, but I don't give a bugger about the common man. This is about me!