Music Features

The Wild Swans (Interview)

This is a continuation of an article I wrote several years ago. Way back then, I received an album called Incandescent by the Wild Swans. At the time, I noted that this was a band I had only read about, a hidden part of mythology from the Liverpool music scene.

I wasn’t let down by what I heard. I confess to having moments, sat in a freezing cold, damp bedsit listening to No Bleeding or The Iron Bed numerous times in a row. There was a kind of glory and celebration in the music – not of the situation, but of actually just getting through it.

Wild Swans

Needless to say, I wanted more. Luckily, I got it. Magnitude came out a couple of years back, compiling the Wild Swans’ two ‘proper’ albums – Bringing Home the Ashes and Space Flower. Unfortunately, record company problems ensured it wasn’t in the shops long.

Which is a terrible loss to those who haven’t heard them. The former album, although showing signs of age via keyboard and drum sounds, is a wonderful, epic album that should have gained them a foothold. The title track, Northern England, Young Manhood and Whirlpool Heart are all classic slabs of epic songwriting that deserve a wider audience. 

Space Flower, originally released in 1989 with only frontman Paul Simpson remaining from the original trio - the others being guitarist Jez Kelly and keyboard player Ged Quinn - took the term ‘bubblegum pop’ at a literal level: titles include Chocolate Bubblegum, Tastes Like Tuesday and Vanilla Melange. Recorded with Ian Broudie in the production chair, it featured Icicle Works members Ian McNabb and Chris Sharrock and after the serious themes of it’s predecessor, it makes for a wonderful summer album.  

Then, the present. Several months ago, Paul Simpson announced the Wild Swans would be releasing a new single and playing two dates in Liverpool. This year we’ve seen Magazine and the Comsat Angels reform to well-deserved plaudits and eager audiences. What were the reasons for Simpson to take the mantle of fronting the band again? 

For better or worse, it was all my own idea,” he states. I'd come to the conclusion that if I didn't do something about this gaping hole inside me I would still be moaning about the premature demise of The Wild Swans when I am doped up in a nursing home. 

It wasn't so much that we didn't get the recognition we deserved so much as we never recorded the definitive Wild Swans statement. We never quite nailed it.” 

English Electric Lightning, the single released back in Spring, is a very good start to this. A ‘state of the nation’ type song, without any of the sanctimonious preaching that might invoke, it lists a number of aspects of this country's culture and asks you to decide whether they are worth celebrating or not: Johnny Rotten, Geoffrey Chaucer and Princess Diana all make appearances.

Simpson enjoyed the recording of the single and working with the new Wild Swans: “Ged Quinn, Mike Mooney and I go back forever, and as a result we are as thick as thieves and there is such a strong sense of camaraderie between us all that recording was effortless. Ricky Maymi is a joy to work with, the most selfless musician I have ever worked with. As a multi instrumentalist, he listens to the entire track rather than just his part.  

Having Ged back in the studio was wonderful, he brings a real depth and beauty to the proceedings, one part drunken pub player one part concert pianist.” 

I wondered how he found working with a full band for the first time in 20 years? “I'm loving it. The occasional compromise made working with the band in the studio is more than compensated for by the random flashes of improvised genius of Messrs Maymi and Mooney.” 

Alongside English Electric Lightning, The Coldest Winter For A Hundred Years sees Simpson provide a spoken word account of the days when the band were just starting out and he was living in Julian Cope’s old flat with to an electronic music backdrop. 

The words are taken from Simpson’s long-worked on memoirs, on which there has been some progress.  

I now have a publisher so the next step is editing it down as it's way too long,” he explains. “I think we are looking at Christmas 2009/January 2010. I'm very excited about the book as I don't think people know the real me. Within its pages I devote equal time to my charity shop road trips and my metaphysical dreamtime as I do to my famous friends and so-called music career.” 

On that note, I ask how it feels to be a character in someone else’s book, as he was in Cope’s ‘Head On’.

Frustrating. It is a wonderful read, but Ju never really gave his friends and colleagues their due in Head On. But I can't complain too much, I came off better than most and I now have the opportunity to tell it as it was in my own book.” 

One odd bit of business that came into Simpson’s life was when Orange and Lemons, a Filipino rock band, recorded the theme for their homeland’s version of ‘Big Brother’. The song in question, Pinoy Ako, essentially ripped off wholesale Chandeliers, a song written by Simpson and Ian Broudie during their short time working together as Care.  

Paul takes up the story: “Ian and I exchanged mails about this and we went as far as we possibly could to investigate the situation but the band have now split, Manila is a long way away and a difficult territory to police.” 

On the topic of Care, I recently found a copy of Diamonds and Emeralds, a collection of the material the duo recorded. Simpson modestly describes it as “a bit of a mess but there are some good things on there” when it’s actually a set of wonderful songs that benefits from both Simpson’s vocal and lyrical delivery and Broudie’s knack for a killer tune. Listening to the singles My Boyish Days, Whatever Possessed You and Flaming Sword, you have to wonder why they weren’t stars.  

When I last spoke to Simpson, he told me he had some personal tapes of Care. Having heard the released songs, I have to ask him to tell about these: “I have the original quarter inch tapes from our demo sessions in Amazon studios - Kirby, with Pete de Freitas on drums. He was playing brushes that he specifically bought for the session that he went on to use to great effect on Ocean Rain.” 

Then, the gigs. A new line-up had evolved around Simpson, revolving around Ricky Maymi as guitarist/musical director. Certain readers may known him for his membership in the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Guitarist Mike Mooney (former Spiritualized and Lupine Howl) and drummer Steve Beswick (ex-Slipstream) completed the initial line-up for the recording of the single with original keysman Ged Quinn.  

As the two shows in late July, both to be at the Static Art Gallery in the centre of Liverpool, a bassist was needed. Will Sergeant, guitar god from Echo the Bunnymen, made a suggestion.  

Simpson takes up the story: “Since Pete de Frietas died, Will has been my greatest ally with my music, the only one of my higher profile musician friends to be publicly vocal in his support.  
He knew we needed a bass player and suggested Les Pattinson. I rang Les on his mobile and he surprised me by saying ‘yes’ straightaway. This was miraculous when you bear in mind that he had refused to play The Royal Albert Hall Ocean Rain anniversary gig with the Bunnymen not long before.” 

The recruitment of Pattinson, essentially retired from the music business since the late 90s, creates an extra buzz around the event of the Wild Swans’ return. As per usual, another minor disaster has to be overcome when Quinn’s schedule – nowadays he enjoys a successful career as an artist – means he is free for the shows, but not the ten days of rehearsal beforehand.  

However, the problem was quickly solved when Henry Priestman – once a member of new wave Liverpool band Yachts and late 80s pop outfit the Christians, now a successful solo artist – stepped into the breach.

I met up with Henry in Borders bookshop cafe for one of our monthly catch ups,” says Simpson, who has a working relationship with Priestman going back to his Skyray instrumental series of albums. “When I informed him of my keyboard dilemma, he offered his services. I am of the opinion that when you are on the right track, doing what you are meant to do, the universe conspires to help you.” 

In the days leading up to the gigs, I asked whether he was nervous being a frontman of a band again: “I should be terrified, but I am incredibly excited,” was the reply. “We will rehearse for as long as we need to hit the gold seam, I really don't want to over rehearse it or it will be robotic and boring. I like it when there's at least a 10 per cent risk of disaster. Keeps your edge sharp.” 

While it would 20 years since the Wild Swans played a gig, it would be nearly 30 since they played in Liverpool.  

I have a love hate relationship with my home town,” Simpson states. “But we don't need to win anyone over this time around, everyone that has bought a ticket really wants to be there and because we play so rarely, we have fans travelling from Dubai, Japan, Germany and the US.” 

Then a warning of what to expect: “The gigs are taking the form of a slightly sinister middle-England, mid-fifties village fete. All crème teas, bunting, side-stalls and repressed sexual desire.”  

And sure enough, when I step into the Static Art Gallery for the second of the two gigs, that’s just what I see. Will Sergeant provides period music in his DJ duties and Rebecca Joy Sharp, a harpist from North of the Border, provides support with her intricate playing and spoken word numbers, earning deserved applause. Then, with the Lindsey Anderson film ‘If’ projected onto the backdrop, the Wild Swans step on stage.  

Whether it’s down to the rehearsals or playing the previous night, the band are tight from the off, starting with Bible Dreams and Archangels from Bringing Home The Ashes. Devoid of the period production from the album, the songs pack a lot more punch.  

Throughout, the rhythm section of Pattinson, who doesn’t seem to have aged too much since he was last seen in the Bunnymen, and Beswick don’t miss a beat while Mooney and Maymi make a glorious racket. Henry Priestman has his moment when he plays the opening bars to No Bleeding, my own personal favourite Wild Swans moment.  

There’s an incredibly intimate feel to the gig, perhaps because of it being limited to 250 people, perhaps also because most the people here never expected to hear these songs played live again. The jovial feeling is aided by Simpson handing out a tube of those flying saucer sherbet sweets, making me wonder where you can get them these days. 

Initially ending with a killer one-two of English Electric Lightning and the eternally classic The Revolutionary Spirit, ex-Icicle Works singer Ian McNabb introduces the band back complete with Will Sergeant on guitar.  


Simpson tells us all how he met Pattinson as a four-year-old starting his first day at school, with Sergeant entering their world shortly afterwards. That it’s such a small world works out in the best ways sometimes.

Then it’s over, the frontman telling us his voice has gone.  Afterwards, he was happy with the return of the Wild Swans: “From my point a view the shows were a triumph in so much as we didn't blow the reputation.

That's the trouble with being considered a cult band, there is a risk of not meeting peoples expectations. I wished I'd sung a little better but the monitoring wasn't too sophisticated on stage and I couldn't hear myself at all on the first night.

This line-up is fantastic,” he continued. “I know that I am in very safe hands with the rhythm section and that's important when you are a front man but there's a dangerous and exciting frisson - never used that word before and probably never will again - to the Mike Mooney and Ricky Maymi 'axis of guitar evil' that I absolutely adore too, a five per cent manic risk of crashing in psychedelic and illegal category-one flames.”

And have the two shows fired him up for more Wild Swans gigs? “Absolutely. We are just booking a few select gigs in interesting venues for December.

I don't want us to fall into that all too easy thing of playing the standard rock venues in the UK. I'd rather play less often but make them special occasions. Avoiding clichés and not falling into old patterns of behaviour are my main focus right now.”

Plans for an album are also in the early stages, with “seven tracks recorded for the album and another 20 demo'd.”

Simpson is also determined to make the third Wild Swans album the one he has always wanted to, to finally “nail it” as previously mentioned. “I have vowed never going to release another Wild Swans album that I do not believe in. I don't make any money from doing this, so I have nothing at all to gain and everything to lose from releasing sub-standard material.”

We can only await what comes. Judging by Liquid Mercury, an as-yet unreleased song played at the shows, the signs are looking good that Paul Simpson will finally make the statement he has been aiming towards for the last 30 years.

. . .