THE CLOSEST THING TO HEAVEN
The Comsat Angels are in the third phase of their career, says singer Stephen Fellows. Will it bring success? Mat Smith ponders past and future tensions …
The backstage area of the Crystal Palace Bowl is something less than inviting and a far cry from the one built for the "Live Aid" concert a month ago. There again, this is a different kind of benefit gig, in aid of a different kind of tragedy - heroin. Amid the mud and peeling paint, a Cult, a Motorhead and a Sprout mingle.
Through these diverse heroes Comsat Angels singer Stephen Fellows walks forlorn, a plastic carrier bag in one hand wearing a face as long as the overcoat draped over his shoulders. He’s just come off stage and is none too happy with the way the Comsats just played. Still, he can take comfort from the fact, that for today at least, the event is more important than individual performance. Personally I think the Comsat Angles are the best thing to hit the Crystal Palace stage all day (excluding the bottles during Vera Lynn’s set), but then I’m biased.
You may remember the Comsat Angels as one of those bands most likely to. Another band in the long line of hopefuls who despite releasing consistently good albums have yet to savour the taste of victory - a situation which came to a head in 1983 when the band split with Polydor following poor sales of their third album "Fiction".
However lady luck stepped in in the shape of Willesden-based indie Jive, who sent the band into the studio with A Flock of Seagulls producer Mike Howlett to record their most commercial LP to date, "Land".
Since then an eerie silence has hung over the Comsat camp, broken only now by the Palace gig and the promise of a new album, "The Seven Day Weekend". I met Fellows on the eve of the gig at his Maida Vale hotel, where he told me the reason for the long lay off.
"I think it was quite obvious to everybody that there was something not quite right about "Land". This time we decided to get everything just right, hence the long wait. It was never in our minds to make "Land" so commercial, it just came out that way. The LP sounded as though we were trying too hard to be commercial, which is a bad way to sound."
The most unusual thing about "The Seven Day Weekend" is that it features three separate producers. The afore-mentioned Howlett, Chris Tsangarides, who numbers Thin Lizzy among previous clients, and perhaps strangest of all funk producer James Mtume. Despite the odd mix, Fellows is pleased with the outcome.
"Really the most unusual thing is that everything hangs together. We were curious to see if we had a sound that could survive outside influences. Jive originally approached Mtume to produce one of their R&B acts. He told them he could do any R&B group he wanted to and asked if they had anything different. They played him a demo of ours and he liked it."
Do you think he was drafted in to give you that elusive hit single?
"No, although I’m not ashamed to say I’d like a hit single. It means people like what you do - also it would bring us a bit of cash, I’m sick of being poor. There’s nothing more boring than poverty."
Had Fellows or the Comsats ever considered taking the Robert Smith route to the charts, consciously sitting down to write a specific hit single, rather than pulling the most commercial track off the LP?
"We do do that, but we tend to farm those songs out to other people. I’m not going to tell you who."
Anyone big?
"No"
Anyone from Sheffield.
"Yes. I find myself coming up with all kinds of songs which I know wouldn’t be right for the group but which still have value in their own way."
So why don’t you use them to get a hit for yourselves?
"Cos we’re awkward buggers. Too bloody-minded to play the game, but we’re realising more and more that it can be played to our advantage."
Realising that blatant commerciality is not the only way out of the corner some would say the Comsats have backed themselves into, "The Seven Day Weekend" signals a return to pastures weird but is tempered by a more subtle coupling of the confounding and the commercial. Fellows agrees.
"We always did do things that were a little self-consciously different but we’re learning to keep things in their place now."
His silky accent reminds me of the band’s origins. What with the Human League and ABC rapidly nearing the end of their 15 minutes and Cabaret Voltaire being touted as the next band to shine the light for Sheffield, do the Comsats ever worry about becoming the Sheffield band time forgot?
"No, not unduly. As for the Cabs, we sell loads more records than they do. I like Cabaret Voltaire very much as people but musically I think their ideas have passed. They need to change and they don’t. ABC had a lot of initial success due to the fact that there were a lot of good singles on their first LP. There weren’t any on their second one. The difference being one had Trevor Horne and one didn’t."
"The Human League are a law unto themselves. I’ve got to know them quite well and I still can’t figure out what’s going on. Their viewpoint changes from day to day. They’re fascinating people, they do the opposite of what people tell them to do and it always works. There’s not really a Sheffield scene. Everyone’s interested in what each other’s doing of course but each group is wildly individual."
A term that could just as easily be applied to the Comsats’ fans. Look around any Comsats gig and you’ll see a motley crew of straights hippies and punks, the proverbial crossover band. What is it that draws people to them when by Fellows’ own definition "it’s hard work being a Comsat Angels fan"?
"I’ve tried to draw some kind of connection about the people who like us but I can’t. The only thing I can come up with is that they all seem to be determined individuals."
They are committed.
"Yeah. I remember around the time of the second LP I suddenly decided I wasn’t going to sign any autographs. This guy came up to me after one gig and asked for my autograph. I said ‘ look I’m no different to you, there’s no reason why you should want my autograph. I’m not a big star, I don’t want to be, I’m just the same as you.’ And he said ‘Yeah, but it’d be like a souvenir.’ I said ‘forget it, you don’t need it.’ This went on for about ten minutes, in the end he said ‘Oh f*** you then and walked off. I though about that long and hard and I realised it would have been far better if I’d just said ‘Yeah, nice to see you’ and signed my name."
Realising the undue amount of faith placed in performers by their public, the Comsats jumped at the chance to play the Crystal Palace benefit.
"I think that it’s very important that groups stand up and say that they think that people who take heroin are dickheads." (A sentiment he repeats from the Palace stage the following day.) "I don’t know anyone who’s died from it but I know a girl who used to be heavily addicted. It’s terrible that people are getting into it so young."
Enough social conscience. With the arrival of "The Seven Day Weekend" have the Comsat Angels finally hit upon a recipe for success? Fellows feels optimistic but not so cut and dried.
"These days we seem to play things more by ear. If nothing happens with this record and Jive drop us we’ll still carry on. I think the life of a band goes in three phases. The first phase everybody loves you. The second phase everybody hates you then by the time of the third phase they’re thinking ‘well, actually they’re pretty good.’ I think we’re entering that third phase and there’ll come a time when we’ll be cool again."
Reproduced from Melody Maker, 7th September 1985.