
The moment the young Kirsty MacColl opened her mouth and sang in harmony with 300 others, she knew the sound that would shape her career. Taking the sound of massed voices out of school assembly and into the studio, Kirsty found a small niche for herself as a singer/songwriter in her own right and session singer to the rich and famous.
Of course, Kirsty picked up a few other influences en route; the odd Requiem Mass here, the odd Beach Boys song there, and scored a few hits with There’s A Guy Works Down The Chip Shop Swears He’s Elvis and Billy Bragg’s New England. After a lengthy period of having babies and doing sessions (babies with hubby Steve Lillywhite, sessions with the likes of Robert Plant, The Stones, Simple Minds and more) she has her first album for Virgin, Kite, released this month, the finest collection of sharp witted lyrics blended with powerful pop melodies she’s ever written.
Kite also features an impressive musical line-up - Simple Minds’ Mel Gaynor, Johnny Marr, Pino Palladino, former Pretenders guitarist Robbie McIntosh and The The drummer David Palmer, all wrapped up nicely in a ‘real instrument’ style by her old man. In fact, there isn't a single keyboard on the whole album.
“I never want to do anything else with a Fairlight ever again,” she says, nervously lighting a cigarette. “It drives me mad, you can’t talk to it - it’s got no brain. And it doesn't understand when you say ‘I want you to sound like so and so did on that 1963 record...”
Inspired by her gigging and recording with The Pogues to “Get up off my arse and do something,” she broke her writers block and took to the studio clutching a batch of new songs.
“I didn't write anything for a couple of years when I was having the kids, and I started writing again mostly last year. It took a long time to start up again; I was getting worried, thinking that maybe I’d never write anything again, and the block was getting bigger and bigger. And the more you think about it, the less you do, because you’re scared that the first thing you do is going to be crap. I’d always rather not draw the first word on the paper than not have it perfect from the word go, and it tends to slow you down a bit - waiting for perfection.”
But perfection came, and then a few old mates were roped in to help out.
“There are certain people whose work I've always admired; you have to go for a cross between what you really want, and what is really possible. If the person you really want is off playing bass on a three year world tour, I'm not going to wait for three years to make an album. There are good combinations of people around, and the people I chose I’d either worked with before or knew the work they’d done for others. And they’re all mates as well. Like Mel Gaynor. I've always loved his playing, and Steve loves his playing too, and Steve’s really good with drummers. There’s lots of guitarists on the album too, but that’s because I really like guitars and a lot of my friends are guitar players.”
It’s because there’s so many guitar players - sometimes four per track - that there was no room for any keyboards.
“It started that way because while I were recording I thought that if there was any keyboards I wanted, I’d put them on afterwards. Then after a while I didn't want any keyboards - especially synths - because they’d probably be playing either string parts or voice parts that I could do myself. I didn't want a thick wall of impenetrable sound, I wanted lots of space and gaps. You get that with real strings - the sound doesn't’t sound the same from the moment you pluck it to the end of it. It goes ‘boing’ then ‘wahhhh’. You don’t have that constant sound you get with a synth.”
Kirsty grew up in Croydon, started writing songs while still at school, then went to art college for a year. Most of her time at art school was spent playing in various bands “I was popular because I could write a song in one minute” - and soon one of them was offered some demo time.
“Stiff had paid for some demos to be done with the band, and they didn't really like them. When they heard that I’d eventually left they wanted to see me, and I went round with a cassette of They Don’t Know, singing to an acoustic guitar. They liked it and signed me.”
They put her in the studio with a producer and a band called The Edge, which featured former Culture Club drummer John Moss, and Pil guitarist Lu Edmunds. The song wasn't a hit for her, but it was for Tracey Ulman. The next few years was spent label-hopping, and after a couple of hits (including the aforementioned New England, which featured Simon Climie on Fairlight and former Minds’ bassist Derek Forbes) she temporarily retired to bring up her family. Itching to get working again, but unable to write, she started doing sessions.
“I did the Stones, Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, Robert Plant, The Smiths, Van Morrison... quite a lot of sessions really. I wasn't writing, but I like working so I didn't turn them down. With The Stones album, Steve was producing it, and I just kind of got to know them and they asked me to sing along on a few choruses. Other sessions, people phoned up because they said they wanted me for what I do. Like, I got this call saying that Robert Plant would like you to sing on his next album, and I just couldn't imagine why. Why on earth does he want me? I thought he did all the high parts. I've still got no idea why he wanted me.”
Back in the swing, Kirsty started to write again.
“The first song I wrote for a long time was Fifteen Minutes. I did the first part at home with the engineer playing guitar, and Steve playing bass, then did the hit where the hand comes in at the Town House. Then we just edited the two hits together.”
For a first song, it’s full of vicious comment on today's blankety-blank generation.
“I suppose it was a whole year’s frustration coming out -the tune and the words just came out at once. I just sat down with the auto harp (like a Zither but with chord buttons) and wrote it. It’s not always like that. Usually I write down a whole load of words and maybe get a chord pattern going later. Then I end up flicking through the hook and going ‘Oh, yeah, I remember writing that - there’s practically enough for a song there. I’d better write a tune for it. But to me I haven’t finished the lyrics until I've demoed it and sung it in front of the engineer, and if he doesn't burst out laughing and throw himself out of the window then I assume it’s all right.”
Assuming the engineer’s still in his chair when the backing track’s recorded, then begins the creation of that vocal sound.
“I hear the vocals how they are when I'm writing the song in my head. I know how I want it before we’I've even played it to the musicians. I've always got three or four vocal parts going in my head at the same time. I start off with a guide lead vocal. I find that a lead vocal takes me forever, and then 12 backing vocals takes me an hour. So I do the lead vocal first - Steve normally makes up a composite of five different takes - then do the part above and the part below, and add whatever else it needs on top of that. Then I'll put parts in as they occur to me - it’s just the Beach Boys approach really. Brian Wilson is definitely a hero of mine - I’d love to write lyrics for him.”
In the meantime, she’s got plenty to write for herself - she’s already written enough for a whole side of a follow up album, and as if to prove that songwriting really is no problem any more, the CD version of Kite even features a couple of songs written in French.
“I kind of did that as a challenge really. Also I thought there were a lot more French people than there are. Actually, if I’d have known there were only about 60 million I’d have written it in Chinese!”
Tony Horkins
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