Interview
taken from HermAphrodite #10
Yes, Ash. Three Star-Wars obsessed Punk Boys from Downpatrick, plus
one kohl-rimmed London miss. You might remember them from such songs as ‘Kung
Fu’, ‘Girl From Mars’, or ‘Jesus Says’. Their t-shirts even now form an
unquestioned part of the indie-disco dance-floor uniform, as ubiquitous a
standard as the skater-chain. Purveyors of rock extraordinaire, and wielders of
the mystical Flying-Vs*, they’ve
been making music since they were in the 6th form, and I’ve been
listening for just as long. The Velvets, Betty Boo and Nirvana have been cited
(by them) as major influences. No one else can cover Helen Love (or Abba) quite
like they can. Four albums (including the live ‘un) down the line, they’ve
featured on film soundtracks, headlined Glastonbury, and now, after a year-long
pause, they’re back. And playing in Ilkley.
Yes, Ilkley. The one from the song. (About the hat and the moors,
and sometimes the ducks and the football.) The genteel little Yorkshire town
that marks the start of the Dales Way, and can be found slap between Leeds and
Bradford. But you’d be forgiven for not knowing 
all that. Ilkley is not really any sort
of epicentre. For excitement, the cities nearby are looked to. Unless you were
a rucksack-laden walker, or looking for somewhere to retire, it’s not usually
the sort of place you’d make a point of. But yet, tonight, Ash and Little Hell
are playing in the Kings Hall. And I’ve travelled up from Bristol on a 7-hour
coach to seem them play my home town. People keep telling them the last band to
play here was Jimi Hendrix, in ’67. This isn’t quite true. What they mean is
that his troops were ‘the last band of comparative worth’ to play here.
Ilkley’s Kings Hall is the inland equivalent of a pier ballroom (both in
decoration and featured acts), and I distinctly recall the likes of The
Searchers and Gerry & the Pacemakers playing there in recent times. Not
that I would have been in attendance. Oho no. My outings to that venue were
restricted to Literature Festivals, Junior Discos, and the odd pantomime. I
never even dreamed the stage where I once tutu-twirled could ever play host to
any form of rock ‘n’ roll.
After starting the interview in their vanity-mirror dressing room,
which (because of the guitar-wailing upstairs) had all the dictaphone-friendly
sound-quality of a motorway service station in a wind tunnel, we are Shep
herded onto the band’s tour-bus. Which is not only comfortable, relatively
spacious and entirely devoid of the scent of old socks, but also beautifully
decorated with faery lights. As well as a miniature Christmas tree. Mark,
apparently, has been busy. Criss-crossing the ceiling above the table at the
back of the bus, and dangling from the walls, 
are hundreds of multi-coloured bulbs,
lending the area the look of a magical grotto illuminated by electric stalactites.
Which immediately prompts me to wonder whether Rick, like Rachel Stamp’s Robin,
would want such decorations onstage.
Rick – “I was thinking of having them around my drumkit.”
A wise and classy choice.
Rick – “I used to have loads of creatures – I had two squirrels
and a little baby deer on there.”
me – “Ah, a woodland theme.”
Rick – “And a monkey on the bass drum.”
Which he has since lost.
Chi – “What colour squirrels?”
Rick – “One grey, one red.”
But they got along very well together, thankyou.
And all this far more subtle than my other suggested method of
engendering stage excitement.
me – “You don’t want an exciting onstage ‘dressing up like a
leprechaun’ theme? You don’t wanna costume?”
Rick – “No.”
Definitely not. No Spinal Tap moments for him. Oho-no. Ash don’t
quite measure up to the required criteria for such stadium-rock-style
pompadour-pomposity. But they were always rock ‘n’ roll. Particularly compared
with some of their contemporaries. (Or that’s the way it read at the time.) 
Sleeper never included a liver-perilous
‘Sick Party’ as a secret-album track for our stomach-churning delectation. You
wouldn’t have caught Oasis admitting to Boy Scout nicknames like ‘Timmy
Testicle’. (Tim was short as a youngster – though he was NOT scrotum-faced.)
Even the 60 Ft. Dolls never did a video of spicy salacious mutilation to rival
‘Numbskull’. Not that such shenanigans are the only reason the band hold the
nation’s affection. Oh no. Let’s not forget about the music, shall we…?
It’s been over a year since
Ash’s last single. Their first ‘proper’ comeback release will be ‘Shining
Light’, impending at the end of January 2001. But before that, a leetle
rock-morsel to whet our appetites for the things to come, in the shape of
‘Warmer Than Fire’. Which is only available as a downloadable MP3. Though that
hasn’t stopped MTV2 giving it a round-the-clock-rotation, something which Rick
finds faintly ridiculous, as the video cost next-to-nothing – as opposed to all
their previous more expensive numbers which were seldom seen. Maybe it helps
that it’s visual subject matter features not even the faintest whiff of a
sado-masochistic orgy. ‘Warmer Than Fire’, however, has managed to disturb one
of my house-mates far more than ‘Numbskull’ ever could.
me – “She has a thing about empty swimming-pools.”
And so refuses to watch the video. Particularly if there are
browning leaves whirling around in the thing. Rick is slightly intrigued.
me – “I think it’s because it looks like death.”
Symbolically.
Rick – “Cool.”
Not for her. Though, of course, it wasn’t a deliberate head-fuck
specifically aimed at Emily. And the band aren’t going to make my house-mates
bizarre phobias a worryingly coincidental theme to their videos. The next one
will have ABSOLUTELY nothing to do with stickers. Promise.
Rick – “We’ve already done the next video. It’s kind of weird.
It’s this dream sequence where Tim’s swimming up through the water, towards
this light. And when he hits the white light he wakes up in a hospital bed, and
we’re all standing around him.”
The near-death-experience aspect of the video was confined to the
story-board though. Shooting was without problems.
Rick – “He was very professional about it. He spent, like, twelve
hours in a pool just diving down sixty feet. The camera guy that did it has
done loads of stuff, he’s the best underwater photographer in the world – he’s
done like James Bond stuff and Star Wars stuff…”
me – “And that wouldn’t be the reason you went for him?”
Rick – “No, we didn’t even know he was going to be there until the
director told us. Apparently Tim Wheeler is harder than a Jedi Knight and he’s
harder than 007. Liam Neeson is really scared of water and Pierce Brosnan after
a few dives was complaining and crying that his eyes were going red because of the
chlorine. Tim didn’t complain at all.”
me (gleefully) – “So he can have that on little business cards –
‘Harder Than James Bond!’ You should do t-shirts. And apparently you are the
‘Pub Quiz King’, so that can be your t-shirt.”
Though Rick has in no way spent the last tour-less record-less
year 
correctly answering questions about the
1968 World Cup, beer in hand, pencil at the ready.
Rick – “Oh no, that’s a popular misconception, that we’ve been
sitting around doing fuck-all.”
Not that he is in any way denigrating the lifestyle of a Pub Quiz
King. S’just that Ash have, actually, been quite busy.
Rick – “We’ve been working on the new album since about this time
last year. Probably earlier. Writing, demo-ing, recording. It’s been quite good
for us to go into the studio with a big stock of songs.”
The recording of which has meant that they do actually now have
enough to release on a rock-tastic triple album. Not that they have any
inclination to do so.
Rick – “No. That’d be stupid. Even with double albums you end up
skipping through them. It’s better making a short REALLY GOOD album than making
a long album with SOME great songs on it.”
So. The new album. Will be short. Will be good. Any more
information?
me – “In interviews last year about the new album you said you
were possibly contemplating a Manic Street Preachers / thrash / rap direction.”
Rick – “Did we?”
Yup. Though I was paraphrasing his words slightly. “We might
turn into the Manic Street Preachers for one album, then do a thrash album or a
rap album."
me – “Well it came out of your mouth. So is that true to say of
the next opus?”
Rick – “No.”
Ah well.
Rick – “It’s more of a return to ‘1977’, very rock and poppy. The
songs are very melodic and catchy. 
Compared to ‘Nu-Clear Sounds’ it’s a more
uplifting happy record.”
And less Iggy-like too. (Not that that’s necessarily a good or bad
thing. Just a statement of fact.)
Rick – “I think this time we did it right, taking our time to
write the songs. I think it’s a lot more productive doing it that way, than
having to finish them in the studio. We seemed to enjoy writing this album a
lot more as well.”
And they’re still excited about it all.
Rick – “Oh yeah yeah.”
me – “Best job in the world?”
Rick – “Definitely.”
He also admits to the odd-spot of air-drumming along to their own
records on the radio.
Rick – “Oh yeah yeah, I do that.”
He just can’t help himself when he feels that rhythm-a-flowing.
But nothing beats the real thing. And they have been enjoying
themselves on this out-of-the-way-places tour. (Indeed, Charlotte later informs
an Ilkley-paper journalist that this gig is her thus-far favourite.) It now
only seems to be their audience who’re finding it strange to be
minstrel-visited in this way. Myself, I’ve been hit by a double-peculiarity;
not only are they tonight playing in Ilkley, my childhood home, but the next
date of the tour takes them to Stockton’s Arc, the only light of salvation in
my University town. Thus a goodly portion of our time is taken up with Chi and
I cheerfully instructing Rick about Stockton, telling him not to drink on the
streets (you’re liable for a hefty fine), to fall in the river (the swans are
all a funny colour), to walk around by himself (though the town is riddled with
CCTV cameras so you have evidence of your attackers), or, well, to leave the
venue at all. Which is, I believe, the first combination
bar/restaurant/theatre/cinema/gym/jazz-club they’ve ever played in.
Anyway.
Moving on…
Part 2
Last
revised: 26/07/01