Ah, the Tuesdays, in all their glorious glory. How are you all doing?
FS: Marvellous thanks. Would you like a pint?
JS: Damn right. Carling please.
DB: Me, too.
What are your plans to follow up what can only be described as a great year?
DB: Record a new album.
FS: We got that residency in The Gravity Station, too.
DB: Yeah, and that festival in Devon…
JS: What? Nozstock?
DB: No, it’s in Dartmouth. It’s a beer festival.
ALL: I love a beer festival!
DB: Yeah, but the thing to do is the new album. It’s finished; all written, and…
FS: I’d say 97% finished.
DB: Yeah, just a few tweaks.
JS: Where are you recording it?
DB: A studio in Cardiff called The Atrium. We’re going up in two weeks now to start it.
JS: Some of the new songs – the ones that I’ve heard at least – sound a little bit more psychedelic. Definitely ambitious in the arrangements.
DB: That’s called “development”.
FS: Yeah, right. Well, the drummer’s a big part of that. He’s able to pull off the beats, which allows us a bit more range.
How’s the new drummer fitting in?
FS: Amazing. He’s really motivating for us all. Very organised. Disciplined.
DB: Runs marathons…
FS: Does he? Right. Yeah, he’s brilliant. Doesn’t turn up to practice drunk and fall all over the kit, while vociferously denying it’s happening. But who does that anyway?
FS: Apart from me. What happened was I [INCRIMINATING STORY REMOVED]. Nah, he’s awesome. Given us focus.
DB: Nobody in the band wants to fire him.
JS: That’s a good thing.
There follows a probably libellous, definitely incriminating story about the subjective morality of tinder dates, as well as some surreal tales of former drummers legs turning into ferrets – most of which I’ve removed to protect the guilty…
FS: …but it’d be a much better story, you know what I mean? His legs turned into a pair of ferrets and ran off down the road; he didn’t want to go, but his legs were ferrets, so he had no choice.
Do you find your influences are changing as the band evolves? Are you introducing each other to different bands?
DB: Not really.
FS: I still listen to what I was listening to ten years ago.
DB: I listen to a lot of new music, but I don’t think it influences what I write for the Tuesdays.
JS: You told me that you’ve rejected songs because they don’t fit the LTS ‘sound’; is there a sort of set formula?
DB: No. I mean, there’s stuff that we might not like. I think that might well have been used as an excuse instead of just admitting “I don’t like that song”.
There are three writers in the band, right? How does that work out? Does the writer have veto or final say?
FS: No, I don’t find that’s the case at all. Take that [track off the new album] “Liar Liar”. That was a riff I had that [singer and guitarist] Flipsy then jumped in on. There’s no one going, “That’s my song…”
DB: No, no, no. On the first album, everything is credited as being written by Lost Tuesday Society – and everything will be the same on the second album.
FS: The song is king; no one has that ego: ‘this song should go there and do this; it’s like a big pot and everyone puts in their share. I might have an idea for a drum part, but the actual drummer will come along and go “Yeah, but this is better”. I might have a good idea for a song, bring it to the band, and someone else will take it away and come up with something that pisses all over what I came up with. So I take a back seat then.
The audience at the Paolo Nutini gig would have been, I imagine, the largest audience you’ve thus far played in front of; how do you feel you connected with them?
DB: It’s on youtube. The whole thing. You should watch it.
JS: I have. It’s great. Wasn’t the video from the last single (“Merry Dance”) made up of footage from that?
DB: Yeah, we used all the backstage footage for it.
FS: Very well put together video, that.
DB: I think we connected with the crowd very well. I thought we came across as if we owned that fucking stage.
JS: Like you belonged there?
JS: Was there a massive difference between playing in front of that huge crowd and playing in front of, say, 200 people?
FS: Yeah, because normally when there’s 200 people, that means it’s local; you’ve got friends there – people you know turn up. With [the Nutini gig] the brand newness of it affected the mood that you’re in, affected the performance. You don’t get to see their faces; it’s an emptiness, like the sea.
DB: Put it this way: we were so HYPED before the gig because we were so well rehearsed. We knew it was going to be a good gig. I think it was the only gig we’ve ever done when there wasn’t even the smallest mistake. It was absolutely perfect.
JS: When you knew it was happening, you knew it was time to really, really rehearse? Time to be a pro, yeah?
FS: I didn’t have a drink all day, until just before we went on. Then I drank a bottle of gin.
JS: A whole bottle?
FS: Yeah. I had it an evian bottle. I just had this wave of energy – from the gig and then the gin.
JS: You felt it was time to crack on? Time to go?
FS: Yeah. If I’d been drinking all day, I might have been just a little more dour.
DB: We certainly wouldn’t have rehearsed like that for a pub gig.
FS: I’m just hoping that [the Nutini gig] it’s not going to be the thing that defines our band, you know? Like, ‘Oh, it’s that band that won that competition’. We want more than that.
DB: Second album.
What do you think is the current state of health of the music scene in South Wales? I can think of half a dozen bands I’d pay to see round here, rather than go up to Cardiff or Bristol or whatever? You lot should play some more, mind…
FS: The trouble is getting the time. We’ve got about 12 kids between us. All these adult responsibilities are a difficult thing. Besides, as far as what’s going on here – yes, there are good bands, but that the trouble. The Swansea scene is very good, but it’s very insular. You HAVE to go at least as far as Bristol. No one’s going to talent scout Swansea. You got to head to Bristol, to London to get noticed. The internet’s going to help and all that…
JS: Sometimes the internet is like a vacuum…
FS: Yeah, and it sucks you in. There’s all these sites and apps that promise to connect you to every other band in the world, but then you’re like a little minnow in this huge pond, and the only way to get noticed is to do something really clever, like OK/GO with those amazing videos. Or you got to be out there 5 nights a week, have a manager and saturate the scene. But we’re not in a position to do that. We got to get childminders for band practice! So the internet has to play a big part. Little things, like posting every day…
JS: “Engagement”, I think it’s called.
FS: Thing is, we’re from the generation that thought the thing to do was to make a tape and send it off to a record company! Doesn’t work like that anymore!
JS: I just bought an old car with a tape player in it, so I’ve started making mixtapes. I was a fiend for the old mixtape about 20 years ago.
FS: Times change, man.
How is the scene at the moment? Healthy?
FS: It’s all about the venues. Remember Mozarts, back in the day, they had a 4am licence, so people congregated there. It was like an Irish pub…
JS: It’s more like a club now, innit? DJ’s and that?
FS: Yeah, and 2am finish too…
DB: The Gravity Station, we should mention them. They’re doing well.
FS: Have you seen that pub on the Strand with the London bus in it?
AT THIS POINT LIVERPOOL EQUALISE AND THE RECORDING BECOMES INAUDIBLE
JS:…that coffee shop in Amsterdam, Ricks? Just outside the red light. All the seats in there are out of a tram. It’s a bit weird.
FS: Yeah, that’s what it’s like, and they serve pints of Hoegarden and the bar is a London bus.
JS: On the Strand?
FS: Yeah, there’s loads of interesting places opening up in Swansea. It’ll be like Bristol, except with the sea.
DB: It all seems to be happening on the Strand. That’s where these places are opening.
FS: Yeah, just the other side of Wind Street. Just far enough to keep away.
JS: Like an alternative Wind Street?
FS: Why not? Perhaps things are moving down there. Things can change.
JS: Damn straight: look at the Kingsway. Died in just a few months. Phew. You’re down there in February and there’s 500 people queuing for a taxi at 3am, you come back in April: tumbleweed.
Who’s worth seeing in Swansea at the minute?
FS: King Goon, Sarah Passmore, Big Feat.
DB: Inscape. Actually, I think that the best band in Swansea is Inscape.
FS: Really? First I’ve heard of them.
DB: Really? They supported us on New Years Eve.
FS: Oh, them? I remember them. They were great.
FELIX GETS UP AND WANDERS OVER TOWARDS THE BAR
DB: Get me a half, mate?
FS: What, from the toilet?
Last question, right, for a bit of fun: If you were rulers of the world for just one day, what would you change?
DB: I hate this kind of question; there’s too much to think about: poverty, war, nature. I think [Felix] would be better at answering this.
JS: Ok, he’s coming back. I’ll rephrase it for him. Bit of Smash Hits journalism for you, mate: If you were in charge of the whole world for 24 hours and 24 hours only – that’s all you got and when it’s up it’ll all revert back to governmental control, what would you change, bearing in mind it’ll all go back when the time’s up?
FS: [without any hesitation] Helicopters; maybe Chinooks to carry the weight. Get every single blue whale out of the ocean, every single one. In 24 hours you could do this. Put them on land, build a house around them, brick them up – but leave a window for the eye. Just an eye. Make everyone queue up, and they can do what they want to the eye: they can lick it, punch it, push their faces into it, whatever, and watch the whales eye and register its sadness as they goes along. It’d probably die. It’d take that long. Yeah, and I bet you the people in the queue, who been there all that time, when the time was up, they’d be saying, “Well, I’ve been queuing 24 hours and I want my whale eye.”
DB: Just one eye, though? I thought you had all the whales.
FS: Put a hole on the other side too, then; there’s a lot of people in the world. You’d need both sides, I think.
JS: That’s us done, boys. I don’t think we can top that. Want another pint? The game’s going to extra time, mind…