Richard Hawley

Richard Hawley’s had a rich life. He’s Sheffield born and bred, and has spent time in Longpigs and Pulp as well as working with Nancy Sinatra and Hank Marvin. His eighth studio album Hollow Meadows came out last year, focusing on ageing, ways to live your life and the wonder of the world.  After being bed bound for six months due to injuries, Hawley’s now back in full health, armed with his guitar and quiff, and ready to shake up the LCR in February. I had a lovely long chat with one of the most charming and grounded gentleman in rock n roll.

You’ve played here in a Norwich a few times before, and also at Latitude. Have you had a chance to check out our city?

I know Norwich well. My wife is Welsh but was brought up in Shelfanger near Diss and her mum still lives there so we visit on a fairly regular basis.

You just got back from touring in Europe. What was the vibe like at the gigs post the Paris attacks?

It’s not just a trauma for Paris; it’s a world trauma and for us all. We went to Spain first and then to Brussels and the last gig of the whole tour was Paris. The gig was sold out way in advance of all the horror that happened. What amazed me was that every single person turned up. It was a beautiful gig and really special. It was a little while after the Paris attacks, but I was determined to do that European tour whether I did it playing a ukulele standing on my head because hate cannot win. Historically, it never does. All the bad juju people get theirs in the end. Hitler, Mussolini, all those bastards have a bad end. In the end hope and true love win, and our history as a planet proves that.

You started writing songs as a child, and your parents were both musicians. Can you remember when you first started to write your own songs and how that felt?

That’s a difficult one to answer in a way because I can’t remember not writing songs. All the women in my family were nurses or carers, which says something about the men! The blokes were all steelworkers, and we all played music. For us it was normal and I only realised that it wasn’t de rigeur when I’d go round my friends houses with my Action Man or my Marvel Comics and they didn’t even have a radio or any records..it was odd. Homes just seemed very empty to me without music. I realised that we were quite different as a family. Mum would be ironing and dad would be doing a crossword and he’d pick his guitar up and start playing a tune and mum would start singing harmonies, and that was normal. In terms of songwriting…I was about eight or nine and my dad came into my room and I still had my light on and was playing my guitar. He was pissed off with me for still being awake at 10 o’clock at night on a school day. I told him I had a song going round my head and I didn’t know what it was.  And he said, go on then, play it. So I did, and he said “That’s yours. Now go to fucking bed!” He took the guitar off me and turned the light off and I was laid there in the dark thinking “What does he mean, it’s mine?” The concept that I could be creative and growing up in the rough end of the city…a lot of life is just to be interested in being interested, and interested in people who are interested in being interesting! Hahahaha! It’s important to be curious and I’ve always been quizzical about things whether it’s the arc of the stars or a guitar or watching a falcon. It keeps you interested in being alive.

You’ve played in other great bands, like the wonderful and much missed Longpigs and played with Pulp for a while. What did those experiences teach you about making music?

I guess I learned not to be intimidated by things, be brave and to make the music you need to make, don’t make music you think folks may like. The reason why you make music has to be the music, and no other reason really. It’s like life; you don’t do things just for money’s sake, it’s important to do things that have value and meaning. Before you leave your front door you’ve got to get your reasons for leaving the house straight in your mind, ‘cos that way, when you come back home you’ll be at peace. It doesn’t matter if one person turns up at a gig or a million because you know you’ve fired your arrow straight. If you can imagine meeting your 15 year old self, would you be happy with the way you turned out? I guess my 15 year old self would be just about OK with me, thank God! Physically, at the age of 48 I’ve still got me own hair and I’m not massively fat which is a bonus. All my mates who I knew when I was young look like footballs with eyes now! Letting stuff slip affects you mentally as well.

What were the inspirations behind your latest album, Hollow Meadows?

I spent a lot of time not being able to move (Richard was very poorly for six months recently), and where we live on the edge of the city there are two main woodland bits. In the morning when the light breaks the crows fly from one to the other and then at the end of the day they fly back. So when you’re laid on your back the bit in between is pretty fucking boring! Hahahahaha! So the crows became the highlight of my day. Your greatest asset as a songwriter is boredom because you need to be like that ancient boat, the coracle, where you disturb the water in front of the boat in order to move. We live in a time now where all our nervous energy or boredom is occupied totally by the screen, so when you go to the bog or you’re queuing or going outside for a fag everyone looks at their phone. We become less and less observant about our environment and each other. So if you can get over that addiction and allow yourself to become bored you will be more creative. So I lay on my back for six months, played guitar and wrote songs.