Kaiser Chiefs' Ricky Wilson: ‘Ryan Tubridy? I love him'
rock
stars who've been around a bit, Ricky Wilson of Kaiser Chiefs has a Bono anecdote. 'I was sat at a table with
Bono
, his wife and Stella McCartney. Everyone's chatting. And I hadn't got anything to say,' the singer says from his home in
London
.
'I was thinking, 'I've got to have something to say. I've got to bring things to this. So what do I do? What do I say?' And there's a lull in the conversation. I thought, 'Now's my chance: say something.' And I don't know why – I think I heard about it the other day – that Pringles, when you set them on fire, they burn with a blue or green flame. So I said, 'Has anyone ever set fire to a Pringle?' At which point there was a resounding 'No'. I got up and left and went back to my room. Embarrassed.'
The story is a nice party piece, but it also articulates a fundamental truth about Kaiser Chiefs – or so Wilson feels. They've been in glamorous company – Pringlegate happened when they were supporting U2 on tour – clocked up three Brit awards and two number-one albums. Yet they have always felt like outsiders, gatecrashers who might be shown the door at any moment.
'We don't introduce ourselves to famous people. We prefer twitching the curtains of our dressingroom, looking at all the famous people walking past. Not feeling that we're part of that. I find it exhausting talking to people. I'm a classic introvert. That's not a famous person saying, 'Actually, I'm shy.' I do find it exhausting. I don't find being on stage exhausting. That's different. That's performance on my terms. I'm there to entertain people. I get off and I don't go to the after-show. Because that would be exhausting.'
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Kaiser Chiefs are preparing for a show at Collins Barracks, part of the Wider Than Pictures series of events at the historic Dublin venue. The concert marks the 20th anniversary of their debut LP, Employment, which has sold two million copies and spawned the timeless indie-disco smashes I Predict a Riot – a song that also became a Leeds United terrace anthem – and Oh My God.
'We must have been doing something right for 20 years. In between doing some things wrong. That's what makes it last for 20 years. If you're consistently not making mistakes, that's how you disappear. Your graph will go up and up and then you drop off. Ours has gone up and down, up and down. At the time you don't think you're making a mistake. Looking back, there are whole albums where I think, 'That isn't as good as it could have been.' We're in the privileged position of making albums that weren't as good as they could have been. And I'm glad of it. We're still going, still searching for that perfect thing.'
As he says, they've had an up-and-down time since Employment: it was long voguish to deride Kaiser Chiefs as pub rockers who'd got too big for their boots. But that's all vitriol under the bridge, and Wilson and bandmates are today celebrated for their great tunes. Just how completely they have been rehabilitated was underlined when they played the main stage at Glastonbury this year to a huge audience. 'It was kind a validation, because a f**king s**tload of people turned up. I had no idea our songs have become household songs.'
He points out, however, that nothing is ever simple for Kaiser Chiefs. There's always that sting in the tail, that wrinkle that won't be ironed out. For instance, although the set was a triumph, the BBC didn't see fit to record it.
Kaiser Chiefs' Ricky Wilson: 'There's been many times I've wanted to leave [the band]. But the alternative for me has never been as good as what I've got
'I have no idea why. It's crazy. We're not going to do a Kneecap or anything,' he says, referring to the controversial Belfast/Derry rap trio, who led chants of 'F**k Keir Starmer' at the festival. 'Maybe we should have. Even if we had done it, no one would have seen it. My mother was furious.'
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Kneecap will face no further action over Glastonbury performance, police say
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Wilson is friendly, but the 47-year-old has been through the mill. Though hugely acclaimed early on, the tide quickly turned against Kaiser Chiefs. Cheery chaps from Leeds, they were an easy target for the London music press, and the backlash was pitiless.
'Humdrum, ambition-less,' the website Drowned in Sound said of their second LP, Yours Truly, Angry Mob. Noel Gallagher of Oasis was even more scathing, saying, 'I did drugs for 18 years and I never got that bad as to say, 'You know what? I think the Kaiser Chiefs are brilliant.'' Boris Johnson, of all people, labelled them 'the weeds from Leeds' in a newspaper column. Many reviews also focused on Wilson's appearance and his fluctuating weight. He's had the last laugh – but there is some scarring.
'The press used to be a weird thing. Because it was, like, you have some success; then, obviously, with success comes the press turning on you. The thing is, it got personal,' he says. 'Could you imagine [nowadays] a review of a band going deep into how ugly or fat they were? It would be career suicide for the journalist. I still have a little chuckle to myself. The internet lasts forever. People don't look good, do they, in respect of some of the things they said?'
Wilson dealt with insults by turning them into positives. They were a reminder that, regardless of how many records they sold, Kaiser Chiefs would always be scrappy outsiders.
'We like being the underdog. And even when we're top of the world, there was always that element of not being that happy. I mean, even Glastonbury ... the fact it wasn't filmed by the BBC. If it had been, everything would have been perfect – and I probably wouldn't have come away as happy, because something has to go wrong. We have to still be striving. As soon as everything is perfect, what's the point in carrying on?'
The rise of Kaiser Chiefs coincided with what was regarded as a musical low point – the heyday of 'landfill indie'. These were the glory days of meat-and-two-veg merchants such as The Pigeon Detectives, Razorlight, The Kooks and The Fratellis. Kaiser Chiefs rubbed shoulders with them all, but they were always aware of not being cut from the same image-conscious cloth.
'There was a real facade. Being 'traditional cool' comes with a lot of facade and a lot of effort. When we went to the NME Awards there was lots of being cool … by the traditional use of the word cool and also pretending they didn't want to be there. I thought, 'It's not very cool if you're pretending you don't want to be here. If you don't want to be here ... don't go.' Going and pretending, 'I don't want to be here.' Well, why are you here if you're so cool? And that must have rubbed people the wrong way. Even people I know in other bands. The fact that we seemed to be having a good time – because we were.'
The wheels came off in 2008 with the band's third album, Off With Their Heads. It had all the makings of a huge hit. The Amy Winehouse collaborator Mark Ronson was producing and Lily Allen guested on the single Never Miss a Beat. But the album proved to be plodding and directionless – the work of musicians asked to go to the well once too often.
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Mark Ronson: 'I wish I'd been more upfront about Amy Winehouse's addiction'
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'Mark Ronson was a weird one. We were friends with him. We made the record and I think we hadn't finished writing it. I listen to it now and there are some good moments. It has Never Miss a Beat on it, which is a classic. But there's a lot of stuff on it which needed finishing before we went in the studio. Maybe needed playing live. We didn't play any of it live. First and second albums we played live a lot before we recorded.
'We should have spent a bit more time in the rehearsal studio. We didn't have time. Nick' – Hodgson, then Kaisers Chiefs' drummer and songwriter – 'was doing a lot of the hard work. Usually with an album I know what it is about. With this album it was the first time I didn't know what it was about. You can tell if you listen to it – a lot of the lyrics are all over the shop. A lot of them are just things that sounded cool.'
Things got even worse in 2012 when Hodgson left. He and Wilson, who went to school together, had started Kaiser Chiefs in 1996 (when they went as Runston Parva). But Hodgson, who wrote their 2007 number-one Ruby, had become disillusioned. And, much like Roger Waters leaving Pink Floyd, he had assumed that the band would not continue without him. Wilson had other ideas. The relationship turned frosty, though there seems to have been a reconciliation when Hodgson joined the Kaisers on stage in Leeds this summer, playing guitar on Oh My God.
'It was very disappointing when he left. He thought it was broken. He was probably right,' Wilson says. 'But we fixed it. In that way it was a break-up. I didn't want to break up, and he did. He did the best thing and the right thing for him, and fair play to him. There's been many times I've wanted to leave. But the alternative for me has never been as good as what I've got.'
Touring Employment has been fun, though Wilson does have to remind himself that the album came out 20 years ago. 'It's weird. In 2005, 20 years ago was 1985. If there was a band from 1985 playing the same festival as us I'd be, like, who are these old geezers?'
Wilson is in a healthy place where Kaiser Chiefs are still his day job but not his whole life. Around the time of Hodgson's departure he replaced Danny O'Donoghue, of The Script, as a judge on The Voice UK. He has gone on to play the Artilleryman in a touring production of Jeff Wayne's The War of the Worlds and has worked as a presenter on BBC children's TV.
He currently has a side hustle as the host of the drivetime slot on Virgin Radio UK, where one of his colleagues is the Irishman abroad Ryan Tubridy. He perks up at the mention of Tubridy's name, praising him as a respected colleague and style icon.
'There's someone that's good at conversation. I love Ryan Tubridy. Like most people in England, I didn't know who he was. I knew him from The Late Late Show. We'd been on his show. I'd no idea how huge he was. I have good conversations with him. He's recommended books. I've recommended books to him – he's never read them. But I do like him. He always looks impeccably ironed. Amazing. Everything about him looks like it's straight out of the shop, apart from the battered old leather bag he takes everywhere. Always a fresh haircut. He looks incredible.'
These are heady days for live music. Kaiser Chiefs are on the march again – and Oasis's comeback tour is introducing a new generation to the joy of living it large in a big field with your friends. There's still that tetchy history – in addition to Noel insulting the Leeds band, Liam Gallagher once labelled them 'naff c**ts'. But Wilson is delighted the Gallaghers are back, louder and lairier than ever.
'It's exciting, and I understand why everyone's going. I think it's brilliant. And I saw Oasis many, many times from the mid-1990s on. Then we started playing with them on the same festival bills. Incredible just to be around them – even as people, there's this buzzing energy. People will always like live music. There's something about bands like that. It's almost as if it has to be live. It's like an animal in the zoo: it has to be in the wild. That's where it will thrive.'
Kaiser Chiefs play Collins Barracks, Dublin, as part of the
Wider Than Pictures
series, on Saturday, August 23rd
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