As guitarist with the Nick Lowe-fronted band that bore his name, Brinsley Schwarz was a crucial figure in the emergence of 70s pub rock. He then formed The Rumour, who soon became Graham Parker’s backing band.
In recent years Schwarz has followed a solo career. His latest album – all rich acoustics and mellow grooves – is Shouting At The Moon, the final instalment of a trilogy that began with 2016’s Unexpected.
How did Shouting At The Moon come together?
Some of these songs were partially recorded a while ago, but there was never an intention to make a trilogy. It’s just that we had songs spare and it felt like they belonged together. They’re a little less poppy this time around.
It sometimes feels like a state-of-the-world address, especially songs like Nothing Is What It Seems.
I think I’ve been angry for quite a long time. Half of my songs seem to be about politics or idiots with fingers on buttons. When my daughter heard them, she said: “Great! They’re not love songs, are they, dad?” Nothing Is What It Seems was written about Tony Blair and Gordon Brown. They’re the liar and the thief in the song. But the more I wrote, the more I realised that it could be about any of a large number of people.
As with your previous two albums, producer and organist James Hallawell is a key collaborator here. How does it work?
We bounce off each other. Sometimes he’ll have an idea that I’d never even dream of, and vice versa. He brought a lot, musically. A long time ago, James came to one of the Graham Parker And The Rumour reunion gigs in Shepherd’s Bush. He caught me at the end and said: “I’ve got a studio. Come down and let’s record something.” That turned into Unexpected.
Is making solo records something you’d always wanted to do?
I dreamt of making a solo record, but I was never sure how good a lyricist I was. I don’t mind people hearing the melody, but I’m terrified of people hearing my lyrics.
You’d stopped playing live for a while. Was it Graham Parker And The Rumour that brought you back?
Yeah. That was around the time we were in the movie [Judd Apatow’s 2012 comedy-drama This Is 40]. I was perfectly happy working as a guitar repairer. Then one day the phone went, and it was Graham: “We’re getting back together.” In 1989, I developed a phobia where I couldn’t get on a plane. That’s why I stopped touring, really. For whatever reason, I couldn’t force myself to walk across those black and yellow tape strips that they put across the walkway.
Had you missed playing live?
I only realised I’d missed it when we got back together. It was so good to be in a great band like that, without all the youthful arguments. You could be grown up about stuff. So it was just a spectacular feeling, playing and singing harmony with each other.
When was the last time you saw Graham?
I saw him and Martin [Belmont, Rumour guitarist] a few weeks ago at an Indian restaurant. We laugh a lot and tell each other stories that we weren’t even aware of. And we spend a lot of time trying to remember stuff. It’s an age thing.
Shouting At The Moon is out now via Fretsore Records.
