Richard Jones, of self-proclaimed ‘nerdy pop saviours’ The Feeling, is standing centre stage at London’s Brixton Academy, gazing out at the huge, empty auditorium, thinking of the possibilities.
“If we ever sell a million records, we’ll probably hire a massive string section and a mini-orchestra,” he muses. “I think The Feeling belong in a big venue like this. We’re only second on the bill tonight but I could imagine us headlining. With a proper budget, we could really lift the roof off.”
The Feeling, as you may have gleaned, are on a mission to redeem all of those songs once regarded as utterly beyond saving. Ask Jones his influences and, rather than reaching, as many of his peers might, for the A-Z of gloomy new wave, he’ll shoot the breeze about Fleetwood Mac, Boston, and Hall & Oates. He’s taking the piss, surely?
“I can see why people might think that,” says the bassist, who speaks in an impeccable home counties accent. “Our reason for talking about those bands isn't to get attention but because that’s where we're coming from musically. Believe me, there was pressure on us not to go on about Fleetwood Mac. People wanted us to dress in a different way and name-drop a few cool bands. They wanted our love of proper pop to slip under the radar. No bloody way!”
Fittingly for a group which seeks to evoke the saccharine glory of such drive-time stalwarts as Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours and The Eagles’ Hotel California, The Feeling began life as an MOR covers band, playing for an entire holiday season at a ski chalet in Switzerland.
“Oh we used to do everything – Meatloaf, Beastie Boys, you name it,” Jones recalls. “Covering all those songs was a fantastic education for us. We learned to inhabit the music. That has definitely impacted on our own writing. You learn why all those classics worked, why they still work.”
Jones, like the rest of The Feeling, is a graduate of the session musician circuit. Indeed, he met his wife, thinking man’s pop crumpet Sophie Ellis Bextor, while working on her last album. He is proud, he says, to be a muso.
“Punk made it fashionable not to be able to play your instruments. Frankly, that’s nonsense. As for the session thing, Jimi Hendrix started out that way. Jimmy Page was a session musician. We’re not ashamed of being able to play.”
What does Jones’ other half make of his foray into pop?
“Oh, she was very supportive. It’s great, because she knows how the industry functions, the kind of demands it makes. Would we like to work with her? Well, I’m trying to find the time to play bass on her new record at the moment. It would be fantastic for her to play on a Feeling album at some point, but she’s so busy.”
He’s glad The Feeling are seen as cheerleaders of what people are starting to call an easy listening revival (see also: UK chart toppers Orson and upcoming band The Autumns).
“It’s bigger than us, though. Now, there are club nights all over the UK celebrating that music. There’s always been this thing where Hall & Oates are described as a guilty pleasure. Our message is: well, why feel guilty about it?”
The Feeling’s calling card is the spine tingling debut single ‘Sewn’, which has charted in the UK. With its elaborate harmonies and kitchen-sink production, the record has the air of some soporific post-glam classic whose genius has been overlooked until now. It is not, says Jones, representative of the album which will follow.
“There’s a bit of everything on there. There are a few ballads like 'Sewn', a couple of upbeat pop songs. It ends with a few ridiculous prog numbers. We thought, let’s go for it, let’s do the ridiculous prog thing. Why be in a band if you can’t have some fun?”