Ivan Smagghe

As published on Earplug

Fans of The End’s Bugged Out! nights, or indeed the Kill The DJ collective, will no doubt be familiar with the name Ivan Smagghe. The Frenchman, now English resident, has been synonymous with the electronica genre for some time and his remixes, such as ‘Suck My Deck’, are cemented in the style’s foundations. His decade-long friendship with Craig Richards has given him the opportunity to join Fabric’s squad list. I caught up with him recently to chat about life, London and growing old gracefully.

What is it about London you love so much?
I’ve lived here for three years now. I like London because you can get lost in it.

Is there anything about France that you miss?
Apart from food, not much.

Not even the French people?
The French people? Why would I miss the French people?

What’s the best view of London?
It would be a random street in the East End. Facing a brick wall, that’s the best view of London. That’s what it’s all about.

What about the best place to go for a piece of vinyl?
Rough Trade and Phonica . The best of both worlds.

The best place for a drink?
The Griffin in Shoreditch because it’s got a really rough edge.

And your favourite shop?
The Cinema Store in Upper St Martin’s Lane. I’m a movie buff.

Do you have a favourite cinema here in London?
They’re all really bad. Except, the Electric Cinema, which is really cool.

And a favourite restaurant?
The only place you can eat now in Shoreditch without a DJ or loud music would be The Rivington. But St. John in Spitalfields or Farringdon would be my favourite. Very English.

What is it you like so much about Fabric and why did you choose it for your NYE celebrations in January?
‘Celebrations’ is a bit of a heavy word. I don’t really celebrate New Year. I don’t like New Year. Quite often people are forced to enjoy themselves. I don’t want to end up in a place that I don’t know with loads of people I don’t know. Fabric is home. In London, Fabric is my home.

You have a varied taste in music – what can rock and dance music learn from one another and how do they compliment one another?
Dance music has got more of a function. The other forms of music, like rock or pop, are now less functional. They are more artistic, that’s where the game is. I come from a background where there really wasn’t any difference.

The collectives you’ve been a part of – Bugged Out! and Kill The DJ – they’re very diverse in their musical tastes, do you think eclectism is essential for someone like yourself these days?
I like the idea, I do not like the word. I’m very wary of words. I love them but I don’t want to be boxed in. ‘Eclectism’ is quite often a way to hide a non-descript taste and not having balls. You don’t want a washed-out soup made from a bit of everything. That’s not the point of eclectism. I’d rather take a very good techno-only DJ than a DJ who is going to play a bit of everything badly.

How did that work in the Kill The DJ setup?
If we can we do everything very well. And if we cant, we try and do a record that is going to be very good in one style then a record that is very good in another style. My example – I’d rather buy one very good 12inch of minimal techno than a shit nu-rave record which is basically dance and rock mixed together really badly. That’s eclectism for me, it’s liking the best of everything, not mixing everything.

What’s your typical week like?
DJ at the weekend. Try to make as much music as I can during the week. It’s a fairly normal life nowadays in a kind of working rhythym. It’s not my life, the nightlife thing. It was at some point but not any more. It is my profession. I thoroughly enjoy it and I wouldn’t change it but it is my profession. But when you say that to people they think it’s bad, but it’s not. I greatly enjoy my job but it is my job, not my lifestyle. I totally believed that once upon a time and it hurts a little bit when you know you’ve got to leave all that behind. You don’t want to be 40 and still claiming that lifestyle, it’s not a very good look. That makes you a better DJ, the distance.

In terms of the technology these days – digital versus vinyl – are you embracing it?
You know what, it is exactly the same. Whatever you play it doesn’t matter if you play good records or bad records. What I don’t like is when DJs pretend to play vinyl and continuing with a computer. I use Serato, I use CDs, I use computers. I don’t care if people play straight from the CDs or from vinyl. If someone in a nightclub can tell me whether the sound comes from an MP3 or a piece of vinyl I’d be very happy for that person to explain it to me.

Is there anything you are genuinely scared of?
Not much, there are things I don’t like – bigotry, boredom. I hide behind working, I’m scared of being bored.

What are you excited about for 2008?
I’m quite into buying things for my studio at the moment. It’s a bit geeky.

Roni Size

It’s a month ago and I’m meeting Ryan Williams. You probably know him as Roni Size, the drum & bass legend, aged 38. I’ve just witnessed him and Reprazent conduct a precision sound check at London’s Scala. Now we’re in the basement bar of The Big Chill just down the road. It’s time to get down to the business of interviews. I’m first in, which is a result. I beat the 6 Music girl to the punch. Or was it 1xtra? Either way, she was BBC and much prettier than me. Slip me some cred.

Roni’s dreads are stacked and so is the smile. He’s primed and sharp. He’s obviously been given prior prep for answers. But as I’m about to find out, he’s also ready to be completely candid and share a little piece of himself. He’s in mid chat with his PR agent as we embark. Their conversation is regarding the imminent arrival of an annual awards ceremony. “It’s a shame that I’m working tomorrow because I would’ve loved to have gone down to The Brits and really put my two pence in. I’ve got a lot to talk about”.

These are the mutterings of a man who seemingly has something to prove. Which is odd considering this is the same Roni Size who defeated goliaths such as Radiohead, The Prodigy, Chemical Brothers and Primal Scream in the race for the covetted Mercury Prize a decade ago? Believe it or not, Roni just wasn’t satisfied. As he sees it, the quintuple-platinum New Forms album that bagged the trophy was simply the bare bones of what he really wanted to achieve. Despite its blend of the smooth, rounded edges skimming over shadowy, riotous jungle; despite its plundering of live jazz and double bass; despite it forging a new path with a doth of the cap towards groovy East Coast American hip-hop; despite all this, he wanted to feed us the meat. And very soon, you bumpkins, you shall have it.

New Forms: Part 2 is “a genuine journey, not fabricated”, Roni tells me, almost like a man who has got his back up. “I believe there is a journey. The people that have been following it, they know it, I know it, so let’s just put it out there”. New Forms: Part 2 is a complete re-edit and marks the anniversary of the original. It includes the timeless ‘Brown Paper Bag’, ‘Heroes’ and ‘Share The Fall’ in addition to three new tracks, some video footage and special packaging.

The new work is indicative of Roni’s personal development during that time. A decade on he now has the knowledge to do everything he wants to do. “I had to go back and learn about frequencies and music in general. I feel like these new tracks are my grades”.

Whilst recording the first version, much of the work was archived because Roni “didn’t really know how to put it all together”. For the re-edit, he and his engineer pulled out all the old floppy discs and DAT tapes. This was a process that took some time - “a solid three or four weeks” – but was eventually worth the effort. “It was great to keep everything as an original. All the drums just as they were rather than just taking a loop here and a loop there. You listen to tracks like ‘Less Is More’ and ‘Heart To Heart’. The drums, all the way through, every groove, it all changes. The drum’s got freedom now. We’ve all got freedom. The layers just sound really powerful. It’s electronic but yet it’s still organic”.

Despite his new found technical capabilites – “I can do a lot more a lot quicker now” - Roni still claims to be somewhat of a dolt. “I’m not the best producer in the world, I’m not trying to be. I still use a street attitude”. And the key? “A little bit of tops, a little bit of bass, a little bit of mids, and then let her go”. This is the lesson, furnished with a chuckle at his own simplicity.

So I ask, “You wouldn’t call yourself a gizmo geek, then?”

His riposte, “absolutely not. I’ve got an iPhone in my pocket and I cant even be bothered with it”.

To celebrate the new New Forms occasion, a nine-date UK tour is arranged. It begins in Manchester and ends, a few days after our chat, in his Bristolian hometown. Offering a slight colloquial drawl he admits, “I’m Bristol Rovers mad. I’m a Gashead through and through”.

Reprazent are back together and although they are minus a Krust, “old faithfuls” Onalee and Dynamite are still on board. “As Reprazent, the last show we did was probably in Brazil about seven years ago. It was pretty emotional”, he begins, sounding a little saddened. “To be honest, when we started I always wanted it to be a short term project because I knew as individuals we all had our alternative goals. We all had our own independent status. But then as it got going it was clear to me that the longevity of Reprazent was a lot more positive than I could ever imagine. So when it did all come to an end, for me it was all very premature”.

I’m intrigued by this apparent disheartened profile, so I urge him to continue. “About three years ago I did quite a small, low-key record called Return To V” – (low key for who, Roni? Many would disagree. It featured no less than 18 vocalists, including Beverley Knight and beatbox phenomenom, Rahzel) - “and I toured a new group of kids. I showed them the life and the experience. Unfortunately, they were a bit too young. It was a bit like taking out a young Man United. They didn’t really work the stage and didn’t really have the presence”.

Universal, his bosses at the time, were going through massive changes themselves and, as Roni puts it, “there was noone to really champion what we were doing”. By all accounts this lead Mr Size to have a long chat with Mr Cox, as in Carl, who strongly advised him to take some time out. “So, I just took a voluntary step back from music. I started listening to TalkSport”.

As many people can contest, a fresh look at something old can often reveal surprising results. “When we all came together it was very unintentional and as friends. When we disbanded, we disbanded as friends. Fifty percent of the people involved now are new people. It’s nice to have new fresh blood involved”. So, what of the former collaborators, Roni? “I miss the old faces but I’m not going to cry over spilt milk. I’m going to get on and do what I do, which is music”.

Roni is finding the tour to be odd. He enjoys playing to “a four or five hundred core audience” but never forgets what it was once like. “It was only a few years ago that we were playing alongside Coldplay, and Black Eyed Peas were warming up for us. It’s quite gut-wrenching to look back and know that we have to start right back at the bottom. We’re climbing. I’ve not been this excited about music that I’m making, and about performing live, for a long time. That’s simply due to being around like-minded and positive people who have no hidden agendas. I don’t even need to touch wood because I’m that confident about the way that this band is internally”.

There’s an excitement rising in his temperament as we continue. The prospects that lie ahead for Roni are a breath of fresh air. “Like Onalee last night”, comes the example, “I thought she was going to drill a hole through the stage she was so electric. It was incredible. To feel this way about music is quite hard because some days you cant get out of bed. That’s just the way shit goes down some days, let alone go in the studio. Now, though, you wont keep me out of the studio”.

There’s a hint of hidden demons here so I attempt to extract some of the reasons. Such success can make creative greats falter in their own confidence, so I open up the subject of the Mercury Prize. “Winning the Mercury Music Prize was our mark in history”, he recognises the importance of that particular golden chalice. However, he also reveals how it has turned him, undeservedly, towards self doubt. “I’m very aware of the reasons behind us winning, I’m not ignorant, I’m not stupid. But I’ll take that accolade and I will go forth and I will make sure that I will represent in the correct way. I feel like I do have something to put on the table”.

Curious to find out exactly what he means, I encourage him to open up the chip perched upon his shoulder. “I love Radiohead. What they gave was great. If they’d turned up it would’ve been great. Prodigy, if they’d’ve turned up, y’know, you cant fuck with that album. But they are so anti everything. Chemical Brothers well deserved it. Even the Spice Girls at that time were phenomenal. I know I was in good company but it was the year of the underdog and that is as simply as that. You put me on stage with any of those people now and I will match them. I don’t care”, he alludes to a stroppiness that I have not seen as of yet, the gloves are off. “I will come on after Radiohead and I will do the best I can. I know now that I’m schooled, I’ve done my time, I’ve done my ten years. I’ve got the team of people that are capable to go on major stages. I haven’t really got anything to prove but”, this sounds like a BIG but, “I appreciate at that point in time what we did because we spawned a generation. The Goldies, the Grooveriders, everyone that was involved in drum and bass, because they’re still going now. It’s still fucking pretty strong. It pops it’s head up every now and again and then it goes back down to the underground”.

As quickly as it began, the rant begins to fade. What makes it especially poignant is that my leading question was nothing but a harmless probe about people he would like to work with in the future. Sometimes a man just needs to vent.

“Perhaps this album is reaching out to someone in particular”, I suggest.

“More than anything, I think I had some points to prove to myself but I wanted to do justice to the people that gave the award. I don’t want to go down in history as a bad bet. I feel that maybe the Mercury judges saw something. I’m hoping they saw something. This is me saying ‘look guys, I know you took a chance on me but this is how it’s supposed to sound’. Some people get it and then they’ll say ‘ah yeh, but I prefer the original’ and I say ‘cool, as long as you like one of them, I don’t give a shit’”.

Roni is currently still with Universal and insists he isn’t scouting for a deal. “But if someone comes along and gets what I’m about and they feel that they can work with me, then we can sit down, have dinner and talk”. He’s beginning to look like a man with a hunger, but a man who is willing to hold out for the main course. “I’m not trying to get anywhere fast. I’m enjoying just being up on stage and playing bass. People always say ‘ah, you’re that guy with the dreads who plays bass’ and they kind of forget about the drums because they know that really it’s all about the bass”.

I want to say “You’re dead right there, Roni” but the phone he is toying with suddenly cuts in. He offers me his apologies. Apparently, it’s his son’s birthday and the boy keeps phoning. Likewise, I then offer my apologies for coming between them. He replies, “No, no, no. it’s fine”. Seconds later and I’m apologising again. This time it’s because I’m the unintentional bearer of bad news. I ask him if he’s heard the latest about his old friend, Grooverider. He hurriedly replies, “No, is he out?”

Apprehensively, I tell him, “errr, no, he’s been sentenced to four years. I was just going to ask you what you felt about that”. His face goes the shade of pale shock.

Uhh-ooh.

“I’m absolutely gutted” he mutters. He can hardly speak. “I’m absolutely gutted” he repeats, “how did that happen?”. I try to explain but he interrupts, “Yeh, I know what happened, but I don’t like that. Damn”.

I make an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness by asking a few ad-lib theme questions concerning his ‘last’ whatever: the last album he was blown away by - “Nicole Willis. Absolutely incredible. It’s old school veteran. It’s motown soul”; the last time he won something - “I did a pub quiz about a month ago but we never won. I think we came last. We won best at losing”; or the last time he uttered the words “Get in my son!” – “Probably today. I didn’t watch it on Saturday”, (he’s refering Rover’s triumph in the Cup), “We don’t say that, though. We say ‘Gerrin thrrr, kid, gerrin thrrr’”.

Sensing his lighter side returning to the room, I push the boat out and regrettably ask who was the last person to piss him off. “You just pissed me off, man. About Grooverider. You just pissed me off. I’m gutted. I’m fucking absolutely gutted. I’m absolutely pissed right off”.

Oh.

I offer to bring the mood back up. He abruptly replies, “I don’t know if you can”.

Moment’s later, he persuades me that I’m not to blame and that I shouldn’t be so silly. He even calls me “bruv”, which is reassuring.

So, even though he danced around the intent of some of my questioning and despite pissing him off, I still get the sense that he still loves me as an artist should love his fans. His demeanour later in the performance certainly isn’t affected. It’s a sell-out Scala crowd and everybody, bar none, is bobbing they’re head. Especially Roni. Gerrin thrrr, kid, gerrin thrrr.

The Pigalle Club

215-217 Piccadilly, W1J 9HN

That corner. You know, THAT corner. The one at Piccadilly Circus where every new schmo in town likes to stand and have their picture taken with a large, flashing reminder of Coca Cola behind them. Yeh, that corner. You find yourself there sometimes, unbeknownst yet gasping to escape, searching for a place to dive away from the din. So you take the first decent descent that comes your way, The Pigalle Club.

The stairwell is nothing too plush but you’re not that bothered, you’re just glad to be away from all that up above. It is downwards but it doesn’t feel much like a dungeon. The design is more….more Supper Club. You catch a glimpse of a poster. Apparently, it’s jazz, jive, cabaret, swing, rock ‘n’ roll and blues every night of the week. There’s definitely a buzz coming to meet you. Peering in you spy diamond-shaped mirrors. Swish. Elvis is featuring heavily on the playlist. No, wait, Elvis IS the playlist. Seems a bit out of tune with the art deco aesthetics though.

Dim, candle-lit corner chaise longues are shrouded in tactile secrecy. Is that a celebrity on a date? Furtive glances peer over bulbous glasses from the central crowded tables. Blazing waiting staff command the space with their whizzing capabilities. They clap their hands joyfully to the music as they move. You’ve stepped back in time, kid. You better sit yourself down before the cops raid the joint and bust your ass. The low ceilings, the gold leaf, the velvet crush. You’re in the American Prohibition era, perhaps a deliberate ploy considering the amount of Yanks round these parts.

And the shape! How strange. The stage is over to one side. The bar is stage right. The second tier has protective glass. This doesn’t feel like your classic straight-up-and-down club. This is slightly oddball.

A fella glides up to your table and asks for your order. He looks very familiar for sommelier. His must be a sommelier, there’s pages and pages of wines on offer. You feel a cocktail is probably more apt, considering the surroundings, but the list is disappointingly short. The fella suggests the house special, the Pigalle Passionfruit. He’s right too, it’s delicious. It should be, it’s not cheap.

You take a sip and peer around the darkened room. Everybody looks swollen with affluence. They’re almost neighing with haughtiness. Suddenly those jeans you’re wearing don’t look so swell. There’s nothing but glam going on down here. The table next to you must be a birthday celebration. Geez, someone must be trying to impress their friends. Bringing them to a place like this. It don’t seem right though. All those conversations fighting over one table. A constant display of nodding and smiling and pretending to hear what they’re saying over the music. Pointless. This joint is strictly close contact. Small groups are a must.

The loud attempts at casual conversation don’t show much respect for the singer. Hey…it’s Eartha Kitt. Wow, you thought she was dead. At first, the ‘civil’ crowd are treating her like background music. But wait, there’s a large area in front of the stage and it looks like some folk are up for dancing. Those grandpas sure know how to move. You would try and give them a run for their money but it looks like you’d lose. This place is all about the music.

On your way back streetside, to reality, you use the facilities. The handwash is Palmolive. Cheap. Where’s the Molton Brown? And wasn’t there a charge to put your coat in check? Suddenly the expense appeal doesn’t seem so appealing.

Recommended if: you’re on the lookout for unique décor and music in a particularly un-unique area of town

Avoid if: you easily disappoint when the cocktail list is not as glamourous as the venue

Press Release Me, Let Me Know

In my diversified role as a journalist I receive a number of sporadic weird and wonderful press releases from all manner of PR agencies. Usually, they concern matters that in no way relate to my usual course of writing. However, some of them actually hold a few interestings morsels of information, things that I never knew or that are hot off the press. Some of these should, really, be openly shared with the world so it too can feed off the juicy goodness.

So I’ve decided I’m going to screen these factoids and carefully select the genuinely appealing ones, for your benefit, to collate into in a weekly news blog I’m calling ‘Press release me, let me know’ (a-haha). This compendium of useless information may or may not work. It all depends on what random schemes I’m sent by the PRs. So if you know of, or indeed are, a PR who has something compelling to say, let me know.

Below is the first installment and so far I think you’ll find that I’ve uncovered some quite delicious yet totally trivial stats and facts.

Charity cheeks

Hurry! You have only until March 17th to bid for Mariah Carey’s clobber. To celebrate the release of Katherine Heigl’s forthcoming movie - 27 Dresses – 27 celebrity dresses (see what they did there) are being auctioning off for charity. The worthy cause is The Lavendar Trust for Breast Cancer Care and Ms Carey has just thrown her butt-revealing pink tunic into the ring. The price now stands at £300 with three days of bidding to go.

Current bids include the ‘Feel My Hits’ Sugababes combo at £350, Danni Minogue’s long silver slinky at £376, and Lorraine Kelly’s evening gown trailing on a pitiful £102.

To see how the bids are climbing (or not) check out:

www.ebay.co.uk/27dresses

Now let’s move swiftly on to the exciting world of cheese.

Softie

Somerset Brie, Organic Somerset Brie, Somerset Camembert and Capricorn Goats Cheese are all manufactured by The Dairy Farmers of Britain (DFoB). Apparently, it takes 20 litres of milk to make their 2.4kg Brie and their Camembert, which is allegedly best served with cider, is the current Nantwich Cheese Show Champion Cheese. Well I never.

Game on

Have you ever asked the question “how many bleeding games consoles are there in the world?”. Well, hopefully this tasty data will aid your analysis.

Since November 2006, 10 million Playstation 3s have been sold across the globe. Since April 2006 (that’s less than two years), Playstation 2 has dished out over 26 million units!! This all comes about because the PSP - which sold 20 million units in the same time frame – is about to release its Go! Messenger service. Splendid entry.

Random hotel fact of the week

Lâ Hotel (as it’s cleverly known) is the ONLY British-owned independent luxury hotel in Paris and, according to Harper’s Bazaar, is ‘The Best City Hotel in the World’. It is also claimed to be the hotel where Oscar Wilde lived and died. The restaurant (cleverly known as Le Restaurant) was recently awarded a Michelin Star. How about that!?

KitKat stats

Choc fans, are you ready? The new 165-calorie-per-bar, Girls-Aloud-endorsed KitKat Senses snack is soon to be released and, accordingly, I have been supplied with some astonishing stats about the breaktime phenomenom:

- KitKat is the #1 UK biscuit brand
- Over 1 BILLION KitKat bars are eaten every year, 37 every second
- Over two-thirds of KitKat consumers are blokes
- And here’s my favourite one, if you laid out a year’s worth of KitKat Chunky production it would stetch from Land’s End to John O’Groats. FIVE TIMES!! Choctastic!

In further chocolatey news…

Eggie

Prestat, who are releasing a dark chocolate and crystalised ginger Easter egg for £22, are the purveyors of fine chocolates and truffles to Her Majesty, The Queen. No kidding?



The Wine Society Maydie

The world’s largest wine club, with over 100,000 active members, is, funnily enough, The Wine Society. It supplies over 1,000 wines at any one time. It is Wine International magazine’s “Wine Merchant of the Year”, Which? Wine Guide’s “Best Mail Order Merchant” and Decanter Magazine’s “Best On-Line Wine Merchant”. It is also the sole UK provider of a new Madiran dessert wine curiously named, Maydie. Supposedly, the wine ironically possesses many health benefits (when drunk in moderation, of course). It is rich in polyphenols, which are powerful antioxidants and are thought to help repair the artery cells which feed the heart. Indeed.

ID risks

How trusting of big corporations and organisations are you? Do you feel safe knowing they have identy on file? Well, security specialists GB Group have just unveiled their annual “trust” survey and discovered some engrossing news about consumers’ feelings toward securing their personal identification details.

The stats - amusingly supplied by GB Group’s PR company, 3 Monkeys - declare banks as the safest organisation with 52% of polled consumers trusting them. Central Government only received 25% of the credence and, despite more than 45 million people in the UK owning a mobile, only 9% relied upon their mobile phone companies. Gambling companies are the least trusted with a shameful 4%. Fact me!

Let’s finish this week with a snippet about child labour….

Child labour?

Well, not quite. Eat Natural – allegedly the UK’s fastest growing snack bar with 1 million bars sold every week - are now employing kids to do the dirty work for them. Their Eat Natural Lunchies are “the first food product in the UK to be made from scratch from kids for kids without anything dodgy” according to their Media Mrs, Natashia Bartlett. Not sure about the “FROM kids” bit, myself. The wholesome, fruit snack bars are stuffed with fruit but no nuts and carry the ‘ABC’ Approved By Children logo. Basically this means a permanent ‘Eat Natural Kidsboard’ of eight boys and girls must give all products the thumbs up before it ever reaches the shelves. A bit like Tom Hanks in the movie Big, only with food. What a scoop.

Wazzup

This isn't technically a 'joke', as such, but I am finding the varying degree of copycat production quite amusing:

The Original

The Preps

The Kids

Supergrass

Leant against the exterior of a trendy West End pub, mere moments from the busy Tottenham Court Road intersection, three distinctly scruffy and bohemian individuals conspicuously hunch over their cigarettes. One wears a bright, striped blazer, one has long matted hair, the third’s hirsute sideburns protrude from beneath his off-kilter trilby. Together, they spell one thing and one thing only: rock n’ freaking roll.

Brothers Gaz and Rob Coombes are taking a short break with their drummer, Danny Goffey. They’re preparing for the day’s final interviews and look as though the intermission is well deserved. Back inside, they form into pairs and commence the next round of interrogation. Danny and Rob join me upstairs to chat about their rock n’ roll comeback, Diamond Hoo Ha Men, whilst Gaz and bassist, Mick Quinn - who wasn’t outside due to immobility issues, a result of the bizarre sleepwalking accident that took place in September of last year - are forced to spend half an hour with Waitrose Food magazine (!). How rock and roll can you get?

It’s hard not to love Supergrass. Without them, there’d be no Kaiser Chiefs, no Arctic Monkeys, no Fratellis. The piercing grunt of thumping guitars is prevalent throughout the new album and, between swigs of thirst-quenching bottled water, Goffey admits that they “wanted to do something that upped the RPM slightly, a bit more in-your-face. A little bit stompier”. This latter statement rings especially true because Diamond…rolls back the years with its upbeat, bouncy flavour, rising high above the pout of glamour. “There’s always been a little bit of that in us” comes Goffey’s timid declaration. Although attempting to side-step the issue of glam, he still believes the album’s eponymous title track to be “probably the most glammy one on there”.

The decision to derive most of the album’s content from strutting hedonism was not a conscious one. Coombes sees that aspect as something inherent and totally unplanned. “I don’t know if ‘conscious’ is the right word for it because it makes us sound like we’re contrived. I don’t think we do music that’s contrived” he theorises in his quieter, more studied fashion. “I think the music finds its own way”.

Diamond Hoo Ha Men is glaringly different from the band’s previous album – 2005’s moodier Road To Rouen – yet displays a strong nostalgic attachment to their earlier work. It’s endearing use of balance is what makes it so special, believes Goffey. “Some stuff is quite positive, some stuff is quite funny and then some stuff is a bit deeper and reflecting of the life that has happened to us over the last few years”. Seizing this opportunity to highlight his own hilarity, he then turns into a cul-de-sac of clichés involving “optimistic personas” and “we’re all going to die, so we might as well have a good laugh doing it”. The laugh eventually arrives and is succinctly followed by Coombes’ expertly timed, “I think Danny has put it very eloquently”, uttered with wry grin. There’s evidence here that the band probably enjoyed themselves a fair amount whilst making this record.

Much of the work on Diamond… was completed prior to entering the studio in an effort to economise on their sanity. The actual recording at Berlin’s Hansa studio was little more than three weeks in length. “It’s definitely more enjoyable” says Goffey, “it’s a great feeling bashing songs out in a day. It can get a bit labourious if you know in the back of your head that a song is half finished”. Like so many other bands these days, Supergrass displayed the confidence to record the whole piece quickly and without leaving any material unused. Preserving the latent energy of the live performance was imperitive in keeping the spirit of the album intact. “We wanted to catch the moment” utters Coombes, “we didn’t want it to drag on”.

The Diamond process was carefully guarded by seasoned producer, Nick Launay, who cast his knowing eye over the proceedings. With near-rehearsed perfection, Goffey’s fawning description of Launay is almost worthy of a gold star. “He is like an art teacher that you really liked at school. He is one of the only producers we’ve worked with that we haven’t doubted. He’s sort of one of us really, just a bit older”. In the past, the band have mainly self-produced yet, for this project, saw great merit in bringing in external expertise. Coombes delivers a poignant dispatch that summarises this notion of mutual respect. “Sometimes a producer can see something when he’s not within the music, when he’s not involved with it. That’s when a producer works best. When we’re all so wrapped up in a piece we don’t see something that can be seen so differently”.

Launay’s previous notoriety blossomed with bands like Arcade Fire, Talking Heads and Nick Cave. As such, he didn’t have any problems extracting exactly what he needed from Supergrass. “He just wanted us to be ourselves” insists Goffey, continuing, “I think he liked our energy and the vibrant stuff we’d done in the past and wanted to get that down rather than our slightly slower, folkie side”. He’s not wrong. Diamond’s rampant rollercoaster ride is rockier than a geologist’s knapsack and its furiously infectious hooks will convert anyone who isn’t already a Supergrass fan.

From ‘Return Of’’s Strokes-riffology to the Hammond organ funk of ‘Rough Knuckles’, the band maintain the dancing youthfulness that they were originally known for. Goffey’s promise is “we’re going to play all the songs on the album when we play live”. He even goes so far as to brag, “there’s not one song that I’m worried about playing. We wanted something that was a little bit harder and exciting to play live”.

The new material has already had a few outings, including a handful of intimate gigs with just Gaz Coombes and Goffey bastardising the album. “It was more of a White Stripes sort of thing” Goffey admits “but we’ve done a few gigs with Rob and Gaz’s younger brother, Charlie, playing the keyboard bass, which were great. The new stuff sounded better than most of the other stuff we usually do”.

Despite the promises of playing just the new material, fans will probably expect the band to deliver the goods they’re accustomed to. With a bounty of tuneage that exceeds over 100 tracks, how do the cheekie chappies from Oxford decide which songs to play? Their propensity toward humour is demonstrated in Coombes’ playful suggestion. “We have a hat with all the names of our songs in it. Honest, that’s how it works. Well, that’s what they told me”. Goffey then provides a more sober answer. “No, it’s the ones that Gaz can still sing. It’s the ones that Gaz can get to the high notes in. Surprisingly, there are still a few old songs we wont play. We cant really get away with playing “Alright’ any more because it’s so about being a 14 year old kid and it would just be silly to sing it”. Fear not though, Supergrass fans, because “stuff like ‘Caught By The Fuzz’, ‘Strange Ones’ and ‘Richard III’ are just really powerful songs. People get off on it”.

Leaving Coombes and Goffey in a pile of their own steaming chirpiness, I wander outside to find Gaz Coombes smoking, alone, in the exact same spot as before. “Were they good, well-behaved boys?” he asks, almost with a hint of jealously. The Waitrose Food magazine interview must’ve been tough. His cigarette has been joined by a friend, a bottle of medicinal beer. Perhaps it was rock n freaking roll after all?