
DUKE SPECIAL INTERVIEW
By
Chris Wills
17/05/07
On Thursday 17 May 2007,
Duke Special played at
the Leeds Irish Centre.
Earlier that evening, I
caught up with him in
the plush (if bijou)
surroundings of his tour
bus and asked him a few
questions about his
music, his life – and
bears…
Do you enjoy playing
Leeds?
Yeah, I’ve played here a
number of times, I think
the last time was in the
Faversham, and before
that it’s been the
Cockpit a number of
times. Before that I
think it’s mainly been
Joseph’s Well, that was
one of the first places
I’ve played. Leeds
Varieties is probably my
favourite place to play
in Leeds. This is my
first time at the Irish
Centre, which is an
unusual vibe, but I kind
of like it!
Why is the City
Varieties the favourite
place that you’ve played
in Leeds?
I love that kind of
theatre venue – I’ve
just played the
Shepherds Bush Empire
and I’ve played the
Olympia in Dublin a
number of times and the
Olympia in Paris, and
I’d love to play the
Opera House in Belfast.
That kind of theatre
setting really appeals
to me, both as a venue
to sit in and watch
other things happening,
but also as somewhere to
play, because I guess
what I try to do in a
show is to do something
which is slightly
theatrical. So yeah, I
love those kinds of
venues for that reason.
Before Christmas, you
played a number of gigs
where you were
supporting Snow Patrol –
what was that like?
It was brilliant – you
get to play the huge
audience. It’s a bit odd
as well, because the
audience is often a lot
of people who maybe
bought the singles, or
maybe people who
wouldn’t listen to a lot
of new music, who would
just maybe for whatever
reason listen to just
chart music. So it was
unusual to play to that
kind of audience,
because usually to date
we’ve been playing to a
lot of people who go to
a lot of live shows, so
you get people who are
open to what I do. But
it was really great to
play the big audiences
and really great of the
guys to invite me to
their shows.
You’re finishing off
this current tour with
some dates in Ireland.
Is that something you
always look forward to,
going back to Ireland to
play?
Yes. I’ve played equally
in Ireland and the UK,
so I feel that I’ve got
feet in both camps, and
in Ireland the audiences
have been absolutely
brilliant. There,
everything seems to have
come together really
well, and radio, TV and
live shows have all
really converged
tangibly and I’ve
noticed a big difference
in the last year in
terms of people’s
reaction to my music and
stuff. So I’m very
excited about these
shows, but I toured
there really not that
long ago – in March – so
it seems very soon to go
back. But the shows seem
to be selling well and
I’m looking forward to
them!
Looking back through
your tour history, you
have done a lot of
touring in the last few
years. Do you feel now
that it’s really paying
off and you are getting
that recognition?
I think part of the
reason I got any
recognition to begin
with was just through
playing a lot live,
initially on my own and
just driving in a car
and turning up for the
money playing to twenty
people as a support, and
then just gradually
building up a following.
The Temperance Society (aka
Chip Bailey) was the
next person I kind of
hooked up with and we
did a lot of shows
together, him playing
drums and me on the
piano and gramophone and
cymbals. We gradually
added other musicians
who we were keen to work
with, so there’s
probably about ten other
musicians who I would
work with; so it feels
like a bit of a
collective, but always a
different line-up each
tour and different kinds
of songs.
So there’s always quite
an entourage when you’re
going on tour?
It can be, or even now I
still do shows on my
own, or just with Chip
or one other person or
something. There’s no
kind of definite thing
set in stone.
Where does that music
hall influence in your
musical approach come
from?
I think any musician
probably begins by
trying to sound like
someone else or
emulating your heroes –
with Dylan it was Woody
Guthrie, with the
Darkness it was metal
bands from the 80s.
Wherever you are, I
think people have
musical heroes and you
begin by trying to sound
like them. It was weird
growing up playing piano
in the 80s, when all the
music around was guitar
bands or electronic
music, so it was hard to
feel like I fitted in
with anything like that
and the piano was just
not really a cool
instrument back then. Of
course now it’s come
around again, and I
remember first hearing
Ben Folds and thinking
“my goodness, this is
incredible, he’s doing
something really
interesting with the
piano”. Obviously also
people like Elton John
and Billy Joel in the
70s, but that didn’t
seem so cool. After a
while, I think I tried
to make it fit in with
what was happening in
the late 90s and early
2000s. I was playing in
indie bands and it
wasn’t really feeling
right.
My good friend Paul
Pilot, who’s on this
tour playing both guitar
and bass with me, and
who produced previous
records as well, really
encouraged me by saying
“what you can do is sing
and play piano really
well, and why don’t you
just go for that and try
and don’t be
pigeonholed, but do what
you think really natural
and comfortable with”;
and so I began to think
about that and what way
I could present the
piano and sing in a way
that wasn’t perceived as
a singer-songwriter kind
of vibe, so I just
thought about presenting
it in a slightly more
theatrical way. My dad
used to have these old
78s that just sounded
like a whole other world
that wasn’t around any
more, and I watched a
film about the life of
Andy Kaufman, called Man
in the Moon, and he used
to have a little record
player beside him when
he was performing, and I
thought that as a solo
act that was really
cool, so I got myself a
gramophone. I went to an
auction in Belfast and
eventually tracked one
down and the guy met me
in a lay-by near Belfast
in a white van, and I
bought a gramophone from
him for £80, paid him
and took the gramophone
and it looked really
shit, it was all
battered up, but I began
to use that in live
shows as interludes
between songs and as
texture within a song.
And the piano just kind
of lends itself really
well to that kind of
melody. The guitar is
very rhythmic and
chord-based, whereas the
piano just really lends
itself to pulling a
melody out of it. So
it’s like the Beach
Boys, the Beatles, Cole
Porter and Gershwin.
So that classic early
20th-century era of
song-writing?
Yes, so it just felt
very natural to explore
that further. Then I was
really taken by the old
music hall variety acts:
both by the incredible
diversity there was in a
show – you’d have
everything from dancing
animals (which obviously
isn’t very nice!) to
acrobats, novelty
singers, people who
could do things with
hoops, or contort,
things like that. So it
was real variety, but
also some of it was
incredibly throwaway as
well, and it was almost
like opera for common
people, in the sense of
say the slapstick comedy
of Charlie Chaplin or
Laurel and Hardy who
came out of vaudeville
and music hall, so there
was something very
immediate about it. So I
really liked the idea of
juxtaposing something
that was very immediate
with hopefully songs
that were a bit more
timeless than that and
had some depth to them.
So as a result I’ve
written songs that are
maybe quite jaunty in
their sound, but have
something maybe quite
melancholic or dark
about the lyric.
Something like Last
Night I Nearly Died
would be a good example
of that – an upbeat tune
but quite unsettling
lyrics. Do you think
perhaps some people
underestimate the
ability of a lot of
what’s pejoratively
termed “disposable pop
music” to smuggle in
serious lyrics under
what seems like a sunny
upbeat pop tune; perhaps
more than music that
sets out to be more
“issue-led”, if you
like?
I don’t know, I just
know that when I see a
film or piece of theatre
and I’m laughing, and
then something more
serious comes along,
then I’m much more wide
open to it hitting me;
whereas I think if
you’re over-saturated
with serious things, it
just bypasses you
because you’re almost
immune to it in some
ways. I think it’s a
great trick to smuggle
in something serious
within a much more
palatable thing that
people can accept. I
just know that I really
respond to that kind of
thing, and I also think
that life’s kind of that
as well – people laugh
at funerals sometimes
and cry at weddings.
Life’s kind of weird in
that respect and doesn’t
come all neatly packaged
and I like the idea of
never dwelling too long
on one particular mood.
I like nothing better
than chewing the fat
over a pipe or a cigar
and a whiskey at night,
and talking about life,
but just having a laugh
as well – but in the
midst of that you can
talk about really deep
things. I think most of
us can’t hack too much
frivolity or
shallowness, nor being
too overly serious,
because I think we’re
made to flow through the
whole gamut and that
appeals to me in music
as well.
The album has been very
well-received. What
plans have you got in
terms of the next album,
if any?
Well this one is
probably going to run to
the end of the year.
Critically it’s been
received very well, but
it needs to translate
into sales a bit more!
[Laughs] I’m beginning
to play a lot in places
like France and I’m
going to be touring out
there. Ireland is going
really well. I kind of
need to talk to the
label actually, because
as well as winning new
fans I want to do right
by people who are
already on board and to
bring something out for
them, but I’m just
beginning to write. To
be honest, the past six
years have been like a
never-ending tour for
me, I’ve been doing over
a hundred shows a year,
and the first three or
four years I’ve also
been playing cover gigs
in Belfast to pay my
bills, playing Tom Waits
and Sam Cooke and all
that kind of stuff, in
bars. So it’s been
incredibly never-ending,
so for the first time
I’d love to actually
dedicate a couple of
months to writing and
really seeing what I can
do, because everything
I’ve done to date has
been on the run, and I’d
really want to
collaborate with some
people and really push
myself and learn how to
craft better songs and
grow in that respect.
I’ve never really had
the chance to do that,
so I’m looking forward
to doing that and seeing
where that goes. I’ve no
idea where it will go,
but I’m excited about
it.
Where did the idea for
the bears in the CD
artwork and the videos
come from?
It came out of a
collaboration with a
friend, Tim Millen,
who’s a great painter.
He approached me about
doing some illustrative
work, and he’d be
interested about doing
illustrations for me. I
said great and have a
go. One of the first
ones he did was what’s
now the front cover of
the album, and I really
loved it – this was over
a year ago – and I said
“this is really great
and whatever happens I
want to use it for an
album cover”. At that
stage I wasn’t even
signed by V2, but I
decided I would call the
album Songs From the
Deep Forest based on
that drawing. The
drawing’s about a
theatre in the wood with
no roof and all these
branches encroaching on
top of it, a conductor
on the stage, you don’t
know what’s going to
come on stage and the
whole audience is made
up of bears. So after I
decided that was going
to be the case, and I
started recording the
album, he then listened
to the songs and did
illustrations based on
the songs. So it kind of
came from that, and then
out of that we decided
to do some videos, and
he worked together with
another friend who’s an
animator and they put
together those videos.
The combination of that
and the contrast between
the sound of the album
and some of the lyrics
almost gives it in place
a fairy-tale quality –
but in the proper sense
of what I’d call a fairy
tale, where you have
those slightly dark,
unsettling elements. Do
you think that’s a fair
assessment?
Yeah, I agree. I mean
for me fairy tale has a
childlike quality to it,
but always this dark
underbelly, so you think
of Hansel and Gretel for
instance and my
goodness, that’s just
grim! I was reading
something recently and
Tom Waits was saying
that the environment
that you hear music in
really changes what the
music is. For example he
was talking about how he
loves music coming from
two doors away, muffled,
with the sound of
traffic going past as
well and you can kind of
make it out. He much
prefers listening to AM
radio through his car
stereo than a clean CD
or something. If you
bring a gramophone into
a forest and play music
there, it sounds very
different than if you
were listening to a CD
playing through all the
right leads and a hi-fi
in a listening room in a
house. So I think how
the songs are placed,
even within the
packaging of the artwork
and the name and
everything, affects how
people hear it and
that’s exactly the same
live. How I dress the
stage live impacts the
listener in that they
listen to it in a
certain way – in the
same way if you walk
into the theatre and
there’s this world and
scenery on the stage,
you buy into it and you
believe “okay, for this
time I’m going to
pretend that this is
whatever”, and I think
it’s the same with
music. If you
contextualise it in
whatever way, if you
deliberately do that, or
even if you don’t, it
still affects how people
hear it. Which is for me
why a keyboard and an
axe stand is just
grim-looking because
it’s technical, it’s
this modern thing;
whereas if you have a
wooden piano, you hear
what’s been played in a
completely different
way, I think.
That sense of theatre
that you bring to your
gigs – there aren’t
really many other acts
that do that. Do you
think it’s something
that more people should
do?
Well I think big bands
like U2 or Pink Floyd
have always attempted to
do something on a really
big scale, as a way of
increasing the impact of
a live show by using
props or big screens or
whatever. I think Wayne
Coyne of the Flaming
Lips is incredibly
theatrical – everything
from walking across the
audience’s head in a
large human hamster ball
to inviting members of
the audience to come on
stage dressed as
animals. David Bowie
obviously is incredibly
theatrical. I think
people like Mika and the
Scissor Sisters are
tapping into something
very 70s in a really
glam kind of way. Then
there are other bands
like I’m From Barcelona,
a Swedish band, where
there’s ten or fifteen
of them in beards and
sweaters.
I suppose I was thinking
in terms of the current
wave of British guitar
bands, who generally
speaking have a very
no-frills approach in
terms of their music and
their stage
presentation. Possibly
there’s a sense that
maybe that phase is
coming to an end, and
there are people like
you, Mika, Scissor
Sisters and Patrick Wolf
who are taking perhaps a
more colourful,
theatrical approach to
their performances. So
perhaps audiences want
that extra something.
I think that’s exactly
right, that it’s a
phase. You had all this
80s glam metal which was
very theatrical – albeit
not always knowingly! –
and then out of that
shot Nirvana, who just
completely brought it
back to no-frills and it
was about something that
was real, that was just
like you’d walked in off
the street, arrived on
stage and you were
singing your lungs out.
It was something that
was honest, and I think
that you just saw a lot
of stuff for what it
was. I think that the
key is just doing
something that feels
really honest. I think
part of it is, your time
comes around if you
stick at something that
you’re really happy with
and you’re really true
to yourself. So I think
people probably have an
appetite at the minute
for something that’s a
bit more visual, and
they’re maybe tired of
going to see three or
four singer-songwriters
with guitars and
earnest, heartfelt
songs. There’s nothing
wrong with that, but in
the same way with any
type of art you make
progress by
understanding and taking
on what’s gone before,
but then twisting it or
combining things as
well.
And like you say,
there’s that element of
remaining true to
yourself, no matter how
you present the music –
if you mean it, then
that’s the most
important thing.
Yeah, in the same way
that I think there’s no
point in me trying to be
an indie band, because
there’s so many better
people doing that really
well, so I think you
need to find a niche for
yourself.
And the indie market’s
become rather saturated
in the last few years,
so you’re offering
something that’s what I
would call genuinely
alternative, because
it’s something that
no-one else is really
doing – certainly not
with that same sort of
approach.
Yeah, I mean it’s like
people often make
comparisons with Rufus
Wainwright, who is
definitely someone I
really admire, and 6-7
years ago when I first
heard him, someone that
I was like, “oh thank
goodness, there’s
somebody that’s doing
something in a similar
way to what I’m
imagining”, and he was
approaching stuff very
orchestrally and he
played piano and he sang
and he wasn’t afraid of
that. So people like him
and Ed Harcourt I feel
I’m in a similar
ballpark to, so yeah
it’s good to know there
are people like that.
Just picking up on the
subject of theatricality
again, obviously
Eurovision this year
wasn’t a particularly
good night for either
the United Kingdom or
Ireland!! If you were
asked to represent
either country in the
contest, is it something
you would consider?
Only if Neil Hannon
wrote the song and I
could duet with
Morrissey!! I think Neil
Hannon should write it
and Morrissey should
sing it.
Funnily enough, Neil
Hannon was on TV
recently with his
perfect formula for a
Eurovision song!
Yeah I didn’t see it but
I heard about it –
“Trafalgar, woo-oo-oh”!
I’ve toured a lot with
Neil recently and he’s a
great songwriter, but I
think he’d have the
right amount of
tongue-in-cheekness to
write for Eurovision. I
think you have to now, I
mean how could you not!!
But I think there’s an
appetite for irony and
stuff in music as well,
so I think you could
probably get a career in
music if you went into
Eurovision knowing
that’s what you were
going to get out of it –
a career based on
Eurovision – but you
just really went for it
and embraced it. But if
you think you’re going
to be some sort of
credible, earnest
songwriter, then it
might be a struggle!!
Obviously as well as the
touring and performing,
you’re a family man. How
do you deal with being
on tour for long
stretches and not seeing
your wife and children
for a long period of
time?
It’s something I’m
currently trying to
address, because for
years it was like these
two completely different
worlds. I’ve only been
recently been travelling
in the tour bus – before
then I was sleeping in
dressing rooms and
strangers’ houses and
floors, and it was like
a million miles away
from dropping your child
off to the nursery
school or something like
that. So I think that
before maybe I thought
you needed to be a bit
fucked up to be any good
at song-writing, and to
feel like you had
something to say. I
think most people are
trying to find poetry
and make magic out of
ordinary things, and I
think for me what I want
to write about, what I’m
interested in, is trying
to keep a sense of
wonder in normal life,
and I like the idea of
bringing some of the
craziness into a stage
show, as opposed to
living it. But I still
think that what I’m
trying to do is make my
touring world and my
normal home life one and
the same. So I’m trying
to get home on days off
and bring my wife out on
tour as well. It’s not
always possible and it
would probably mess with
your head having the
kids here as well – but
I’m trying to bring
music into the home
more, having a piano in
the house and working
from home a lot more,
stuff like that. But I
think early on it feels
like it’s really cool
and really interesting
to be a bit fucked up,
but then it’s not really
conducive for family
life or being a nice
person or a good friend
even. So I don’t believe
that any more.
When you yourself were
young, did you have any
dreams of what you might
do, so if you hadn’t
become a musician you
might have done
something else instead?
Well I did an interview
with The Times recently,
and I was saying in that
I used to have to walk
about a mile-and-a-half
home from school in
Downpatrick, and I used
to dream of two things.
One was that there would
be a moving walkway that
would take me – every
city would have
pavements that moved at
a really slow pace that
you’d just get on and
stand and get off
wherever you wanted –
what a great invention
that would be! The other
thing was that someone
from Hollywood would
drive past and say
“That’s the boy we want
for the next film!” and
suddenly I would be
incredibly famous as a
film star. I
subsequently learnt that
I couldn’t really act
very well! So I think
I’ve always just dreamed
of singing, and living
in Northern Ireland it
didn’t ever seem that
likely. There wasn’t
record label space
there, it was a real
backwater, there were
the Troubles going on.
So it didn’t really seem
that possible and I
didn’t know many people
who were full-time
musicians apart from the
people who sang covers
in bars, but I think I
always just wanted to
imagine that I’d be
involved in music.
How much do you think
growing up in Northern
Ireland has influenced
you musically and in
general?
I think it’s made me
really determined and
you realise it doesn’t
come easy. It’s not like
you bump into people who
can do you a lot of good
a lot, like maybe if you
lived in London or
something like that. But
even in London I don’t
think it’s easy, because
there’s so much
competition and it must
just be a nightmare.
I’ve been to Nashville
and every waiter and
waitress you meet is an
aspiring musician, and
that must be grim to
have to lose your dream
for a while and just be
there, and be so close
and yet so far from
what’s happening. But I
think it’s made me
determined and sure of
what I want to do.
Musically it’s really
hard to say, so much
music you hear anyway
comes from other
countries – America, the
UK and Europe. I think
within Ireland there’s a
love of the song, and I
think I’ve got that –
and certainly in a micro
way, living in Northern
Ireland with the family
I had, and music was
just so encouraged, but
I think it’s really
difficult to say when
you’re that close to it.
Sigur Ros were asked
recently if they thought
living in Iceland has
influenced what they’ve
made, and they said they
reckoned they’d probably
have made a different
record if they’d lived
in Brazil! So I think
probably maybe the song,
melody and a bizarre
love of melancholy is
maybe an Irish thing.
In the song Brixton
Leaves on the album,
Belfast is in there as
well as Brixton, so what
was the inspiration
behind the lyrics in
that song?
It was just a mixture of
homesickness and the
equal love and repulsion
of Belfast, all the
stuff that’s ever
happened there. But I
think also just the idea
that there’s something
or someone outside of
yourself that can make
you feel complete,
whether it’s just the
dream of having a record
deal, or meeting someone
that’s going to make
everything inside you
okay and realising then
that it’s not the case –
that the dream is often
just that, and going to
London for me was the
Holy Grail and trying to
get a name for myself,
and then you turn up and
then it’s just like a
bar back home, except
there are less people
there and it’s harder to
get to and more
expensive! And learning
to be content I think.
For me, the themes I
suppose on the album are
what I mentioned about
trying to find beauty in
ordinary things, and
then also confronting
the shit that’s inside
yourself, and not
looking for something
outside that to make it
all better, but
obviously facing up to
the crap that isn’t so
nice.
You’ve said that the
world of showbusiness
isn’t glamorous – in
fact it’s very
unglamorous and very
hard work. I saw in the
recent interview in The
Times that when you went
to South By Southwest in
the States last year
that, in reality it’s
very hard work because
you’re likely to be
playing to very small
venues and very small
numbers of people.
There’s over a thousand
acts in a city that’s