James Blunt looks confused. “Yeah, a number one album, I guess it is a great achievement,” he says modestly, if somewhat perplexed. “I don’t think it’s really sunk in to be honest. At the moment, to me it’s just a number."
Blunt has just come off stage at the RDS Arena in Dublin where he's supporting Elton John. Current single ‘You’re Beautiful’ closed the set, and hearing the crowd sing it back at him word for word has served to emphasise how popular he has become. Right now, he's at the top of his game.
In an incredible six months, Back To Bedlam, the 28-year-old’s debut album, has slowly climbed the charts to occupy the number one slot. With little or no fuss it's well on its way to going double platinum, while all that stands between Blunt and a UK number one single is Chris Martin’s pal, the Crazy Frog.
“The way it's happened has been the most rewarding,” notes Blunt as he cracks open a post-gig beer. “It seems to have sold through word of mouth and people telling their friends to give it a listen. That, I think, is great, especially in an industry where there can be so much hype and so many factors that as a musician you don’t necessarily understand.”
Though unshaven and scruffy with his shaggy hair, Blunt is not your conventional rock star. The son of a retired British army colonel, he was born in an army hospital in Hampshire and sent to boarding school at the age of seven.
At 16 he got a pilot’s license before going to Bristol to study aerospace manufacturing. Following family tradition, he joined the army in 1998, and during his four years of service guarded the Queen and stood at the corner of the Queen Mother’s coffin as she lay in state.
In 1999, as troop leader of D Squadron, the Household Cavalry Regiment, Blunt was one of the first to cross the border into Kosovo ahead of a 30,000-strong NATO force bound for the capital Pristina.
He is reluctant to talk in depth about his experiences in Kosovo, however.
“I saw things that will live with me for ever,” he admits in his posh upper class English accent. “My experiences in Kosovo were obviously different from anything I’d ever experienced at home, but different from those who are actually losing family members out there and to those of the locals on the ground who are having a much tougher time then I ever did. I served in Kosovo for six months, so I really wasn’t there that long.
“The work that I was involved in was quite rewarding and I definitely walked away thinking my time in the army was of benefit. I saw certain aspects of the world I otherwise wouldn’t have got to see, and understood part of the world I would have otherwise missed out.
"I never served in Northern Ireland which I’m glad about,” he says unprompted. “I’ve been to both Northern and Southern Ireland and I have a lot of friends in both places so I wouldn’t have wanted to taint that with what’s going on politically on the island. I wouldn’t want to have been sent over here if I’ve got mates out here. I’d want to enjoy the countryside for what it is.
"To be involved in anything military in a country that I enjoy and love would maybe have tainted that experience. Same as I wouldn’t like to have served in a tank where I live in Hammersmith.”
Would he have refused to serve in Northern Ireland?
“Well no,” he says, slightly embarrassed that he brought up the topic, “you don’t get a choice in those things. You go where you’re sent.”
Long-term life in the army was never on the cards though. “I only joined because I was sort of forced to do so,” he confides. “At the age of 14 I announced I was going to be a musician and I had no intention of giving up on that goal. I was pretty stubborn minded about succeeding. The army, though, had helped with my university fees so I owed them a few thousand pounds.
“You can pay them off in one lump sum or else do four years so joining up just seemed like the easier option. Plus my dad I guess was sort of pushing for it.”
Returning to civilian life in 2002, things began to happen quickly for the talented singer-songwriter.
Within six months he had inked a publishing deal with EMI, been snapped up by Elton John’s management company and signed to Linda Perry’s Custard records label in the US. The following year he began working on Back To Bedlam with Elliott Smith and Beck producer Tom Rothrock.
“Well the six month thing is a bit misleading really,” he says, again with typical modesty. “What it doesn’t acknowledge is the pitfalls along the way. Since I was 14 I’d been offered unbelievably shit publishing deals. I’d been with record companies, been offered the world and then realised that the deals were hollow.
“The year before I left the army I’d begun to work very hard in learning studio techniques and in filling out the songs with other musicians. So I had a collection of songs to bring around which I’d worked tremendously hard on. Someone then advised me to get a proper manager so when I found that, the ball started rolling.
“With the right songs and a good manager I had some of the necessary pieces of the jigsaw puzzle. The rest fell into place but it wasn’t an easy road by any stretch. It was tough and something I really had to graft at.”
He's already started work on his second album, which like Back To Bedlam is unlikely to dwell on his time in the armed forces.
“I didn’t actually write many songs about the time. I mean I’ll always refer to it in some way or another but for me my four years in the army wasn’t all I was doing. I still had a social life and relationships as well as other interests and other hobbies. That was just my day job, albeit a pretty absorbing one.
“Anyhow, if I’d written half an album about the army, and was completely army barmy, I think people might think I was a bit fucked up. In fact, I’m really happy so maybe the next record is going to reflect that. We’ll just have to wait and see.”