Streets writing man

And to think that MI5 turned down my job application! It’s 3pm on a wet West London Tuesday and I’m proceeding down an anonymous residential street to what my handler has described as a “dilapidated shed.” Once located, I’m to knock discreetly on the paint-chipped door, identify myself to the intermediary who opens it and, security all-clear given, head inside for a face to face with one of the UK’s Most Wanted.

I’m convinced that some fucker’s winding me up, but sure enough, there between two semi-Ds is something that looks like it’s been built by the less architecturally proficient of the Three Little Pigs. Never mind huffing and puffing, an asthmatic wheeze would bring this house down.
Sticking to my covert task, I wait for the man who’s pruning next door’s rhododendrons to leave, give a furtive rat-a-tat-tat and find myself greeted by a PR girl who ruins everything by loudly informing me – and anyone else within a 50 metre radius – that, “Mike’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Yup, the supposedly secret lair belongs to young Michael Skinner, recording artiste and MD of the burgeoning Beats empire. Like Dr. Who’s Tardis, it’s bigger inside than it is outside and packed to bursting with the digital gear he used to record the new Streets album, The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living.
It’s an apt title given the 27-year-old’s self-confessed forays into serious gambling and crack smoking. The former reached its nadir when he blew the whole of The Streets’ U.S. tour budget on a spread-bet, while the latter provides the pharmaceutical accompaniment to a late night shagfest with a top 10 songstress who had to get up early the next morning to appear on CD:UK. The gack-loving sex vixen in question mightn’t be too impressed with her cameo in The Hardest Part…’s lead single, ‘When You Wasn’t Famous.’
“Whenever I see you on MTV, I can’t stop my big wide smile/And past the ‘children’s appeal’, I see the darkness behind/We both know the scratches on my back much better than the alludes and lies/I miss the bitchin’ and shoutin’, but I’m glad I got out in time,” raps Skinner before his manager interjects with a cautionary, “You can’t keep fucking pop stars, we’ve got a fucking business to run/There are industry repercussions, Michael!”
Needless to say, the English dailies have been blowing a gasket trying to work out who Ms. X is. We’ve our own pet theory in the Hot Press office but, alas, there’s this pesky thing called libel.
The laddish boasting soon gives way to thoughtful ruminations on male insecurity (‘All Goes Out The Window’), the trans-Atlantic divide (‘Two Nations’) and the death in early 2004 of his father (‘Never Went To Church’). I’m not a man who gets moist easily, but when yer man sings – yes, sings – “If you were still around I’d ask you what I’m supposed to do now/I just get a bit scared every now and again/I hope I made you proud,” it’s instant waterworks. At his lowest (‘Pranging About’), he confides that, “There are voices talking to me/I’m gonna do something stupid/Death now seems like an easier option.”
Thinking that, “Hi Mike, what’s this about you wanting to top yourself?” mightn’t be the most delicate of opening gambits, I start our tête-à-tête by asking him what’s with all the cloak and dagger?
“Sorry about that,” he says absent-mindedly pawing his Blackberry. “We just don’t want every kid in London knocking on the door looking for an autograph.”
Or, I presume, every paparazzo in London looking for a photograph.
“Yeah, that too!”
‘When You Wasn’t Famous’ has been great in terms of people talking about the new album, but what about the downside of the tabloid feeding frenzy it’s provoked?
“Me writing the scandals on my own album has got to be better than someone else getting it wrong in the papers,” Skinner reasons. “If you just put all the worst things that happened out there, all they can do is repeat what you’ve said.
“Is having the tabloids on your case trouble?” he asks rehtorically. “Nah, trouble’s when somebody smashes you over the head with a bottle. Anything less painful than being smashed over the head with a bottle is dealable with.”
Is he piqued that the record company blurb accompanying ‘When You Wasn’t Famous’ compares his night of beautiful, tender love to the sordid Ulrika Jonsson/John Leslie affair?
“That was approved by us, the idea being that people like you would get really excited about the album! To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the reaction to be quite as overwhelming as it has been, but I’ve got to deal with it ‘cos I was taking the piss a bit.”
Of course, Skinner and his mystery amour aren’t the only A-Listers who’ve titillated the tabs recently with their cocaine habits. Has he thought of giving Kate a call and seeing if she’s free for a snort?
“I wish!”
My personal feeling on the matter is that Ms. Moss is past her prime.
“Past her prime?” he splutters incredulously. “I don’t know what birds you’ve been pulling, mate, but a past-prime Kate Moss is better than a prime-virtually anybody else. Perhaps I have a really low standard, though!”
At what point did he decide that The Hardest Way… was going to be such a spare-no-blushes confessional?
“I can’t remember exactly, but pretty early on. Once I’d made the decision not to be afraid and just lay it all down, it was pretty easy. Part of it was paved by the fact that all of the most embarrassing things that could be said about me have been already. I’ve had to face my mother on so many occasions, it doesn’t matter anymore.
“The only thing which does now,” he expands, “is doing stuff that works. How you earn your position as a voice that kids can hopefully look up to is to stick to what you know and talk about it honestly and with wit. I think people forget that when I started, it wasn’t cool to write about mundane things. More were against it than were into it.”
Call me an up-his-own-bottom pseudo-intellectual if you will, but The Hardest Way… is in many ways an old-fashioned morality tale.
“No one wants to be a bad person,” Skinner proffers. “Everyone wants to think they’re good, no matter how fucked up the situation they’ve ended up in is. I don’t think murderers actually want to be bad, they’re just really fucking messed up.
“It’s trying to frame it in a way that people understand. I’m an idiot guy who gets carried away and over-excited and then three days later lies in bed feeling terrible about it. Being British and a rapper, I’ve had to work out what our strong points are, and one of ‘em is the ability to admit to our mistakes.”
Ah yes, mistakes. The album’s title-track finds Skinner giving his tips on spread-betting – “start with a big fortune, and lose it until it’s a small fortune”. As somebody who gets confused sticking a fiver each-way on the Grand National, can he explain to me how it works?
“Spread-betting is like the Stock Exchange in that the price is constantly changing, and you can get in and out mid-game,” says rap’s answer to John McCririck. “You don’t bet on who’s going to win, but how many bookings or corners there are. There’s something called ‘multi-corners’, which multiplies, say, Chelsea’s corners by Manchester United’s corners – it’s like maths, though a lot more fun. They’re starting to show bookings and corners now on Sky, so it’s becoming more and more of a mainstream thing. You have an account set up and do it on the internet or, like I do mainly, your phone. The trouble is that because you’re not actually holding the money in your hand, you can lose it at an alarming rate, which is unfortunately what I had to admit to. That was one of the most embarrassing moments in my tabloid, er, career.”
What’s the most he’s frittered away in a day?
“(Pause that isn’t so much pregnant as feet up in the stirrups waiting to give birth) I don’t really want to go into it because my mum reads newspapers. Over a tenner!”
Most of ‘Mike Skinner’s Spread-Betting Hell’ took place in America; the co-star of what for me is The Hardest Way…’s lyrical stand-out, ‘Two Nations’. “We gave you people like John Lennon… even though you shot him as well!” he chides, as George Bush gets on to Tony Blair to tell him the special relationship is over.
Given his inherent Englishness, is he surprised that The Streets have done as well as they have done in the States?
“When you say The Streets is successful in America, what you’re really saying is The Streets is successful in New York, LA, San Francisco, Chicago, Boston, Seattle…places which are essentially European cities transplanted to another continent. I’ve played gigs in Utah and it’s a different story!”
‘Two Nations’ was originally meant to feature on the Notorious B.I.G. duets album, but got bumped because it wasn’t up to executive producer P. Diddy’s usual high yo-ing, ho-ing and nigga-ing standards.
“I was living in New York for two months of last year to get away from seeing myself on the side of busses,” Skinner says alluding to his megabuck participation in Reebok’s ‘I Am What I Am’ campaign. “I needed to be alone, but in another city rather than the South of France, which would bore me out of my mind. I was following a lot of the Warner A&R men around so I could learn how rap music happened, and through that got hooked up with P. Diddy for an evening. He was putting together the duets album with Biggie, and asked me to write a song. To be honest, I got a bit stuck and ended up being less kind about America than I’d set out to be.”
Better even than the Lennon line, is the caustic reminder that, “We were the ones who invented the language.”
From the daft name to prancing around with a faux English butler called Farnsworth Bentley, everything about P. Diddy points towards him being a twit of the highest order.
“The American business machine is not conducive to taking risks,” Mike responds diplomatically, “so what you’re seeing in rap music is an ideal sold to young, angry teenagers. But actually, if you sit down with P. Diddy and 50 Cent and talk to them you’ll realise that they’re not as narrow as that. These guys are a lot more sophisticated and aware of the world than you think, but they’re selling a consistent product to a huge market.”
You could say that about rock acts, too.
“Bono is very aware, isn’t he, that he’s making big American radio hits? Like rap, he’s making a product that’s simplified and effective. It’s difficult to do anything else in America because you’ve got to convince 52 states to all support what you’re doing. No one wants to take a risk.”
‘Two Nations’ also references Skinner being at the Nas gig in the Brixton Academy, which had to be abandoned when one of the crowd opened fire with a handgun. As you do.
“It was just behind me that it happened and everyone rushed out through the side door, but because I had this pass I was kind of hanging around backstage and Nas was there, standing in the corridor with his security guy – and he asked what the fuck was going on. I said, ‘Don’t worry, they’re only blanks.’ Now Nas was a big idol of mine when I was a kid, and I’m quite happy that those are the only words I’ve ever said to him!”
Mine were among the eyebrows raised last year when Skinner announced that he was trying to get Nas’ mates Snoop Dogg and Gwen Stefani to guest on The Hardest Way…. Did they tell him to go boil his Limey head, or is there a less confrontational reason for their non-participation?
“The plan was to have quite a few guests, but not until I knew exactly what each song was about. That didn’t happen until the middle of January this year, by which time I was tired and just wanted to put the fucking album in the can. I met Snoop in London though, and he was cool.”
While more self-deprecating than self-pitying, there are moments listening to The Hardest Way… when you think, “If being a pop star’s that tortuous, why don’t Skinner and his money fuck off and get a job in Burger King?”
“I’ve already worked in Burger King and, yes, it was horrible! Although we robbed money left, right and centre, I never did what they did in that Eminem song (‘The Real Slim Shady’) and spat on the onion rings. People are wankers to you at Burger King, but I’d rather just steal the money!
“Seriously, I spent my teenage years being bored and having nothing ahead of me. I never want to be sitting around doing nothing ever again in my life. I genuinely see myself making music until I drop dead. It’s a rock star cliché, but I feel blessed to have the life I have.”
What’s the single most hedonistic thing he’s done since Hot Press last met him backstage at Derry’s Prehen Playing Fields in May 2004?
“That was a great gig,” he reminisces fondly. “Driving a Ferrari around Las Vegas whilst pissed out of your head is fucking funny...and I can’t drive! What saved me is that they’ve a lot of straight roads!”
Skinner detailing his errant behaviour reminds me of Noel Gallagher’s line about fame being a licence to behave like a cunt.
“That’d be about right,” Mike laughs. “I don’t know if you’re married, but if you are and behave like a cunt, your wife will in no uncertain terms tell you to stop. When – to quote the disco classic – you get lost in music, the only person you’re answering to is yourself. And when me’s really drunk, me tells me to get more drink rather than go to bed.
“I had two things happen at around the same time that made me pull back. One was realising I wasn’t having as much fun as I used to, and the other was starting my label up, The Beats. It’s no longer just my career that I’m potentially fucking up but The Mitchell Brothers and Professor Green’s as well.” Who can both be found indulging in some hot MP3 action at www.the-beats.co.uk. The most revealing and vulnerable song on the new album is without doubt ‘Never Been To Church’. His dad dying, it seems, has left Skinner questioning his own mortality.
“I’ve always believed that we’re just a load of blood cells – nothing really matters so, fuck it, you might as well go to the pub. But when someone close to you dies, everything turns on its head and suddenly you can’t accept that they just no longer exist. If we’re not going to get back into God we’ve got to come to terms with that.”
As well as being a damn fine collection of songs, The Hardest Way To Make An Easy Living also wins the prize for ‘Best Use Of A Rolls Royce On An Album Cover Since Oasis’ Be Here Now’.
“It’s a 1974-5 Silver Shadow Mk. 1, and it was in a bit of a state when I got it,” he says switching into Jeremy Clarkson mode. “It’s taken over a year to rebuild. It was real Pimp My Ride stuff – the actual cost of the car was less than a tenth of the customisation. In fact the stereo’s worth four times more than the car was! I don’t know what I’m going to do with it when it’s finally finished though – it’s in Ipswich at the moment. I had it out last Friday, but I was too scared to touch it.”
Skinner also has a new look to go with the car.
“We’re very much pushing the Miami Vice theme this time around. The keynote look is the suit-jacket with rolled-up sleeves and a lot of tropical palm trees painted bright orange – the whole campaign will have a flavour of that.”
Are we to glean from this that the ‘King Of The Chavs’ – © The Sun – is abdicating.
“Casual culture was what I was into when I was doing A Grand Don’t Come For Free. It’s the biggest thing that’s happened for decades, but because it started in the North, the London media never acknowledged it other than to take the piss. It’s a fashion style; it doesn’t make you an idiot.”
A question I’ve been dying to ask Mike Skinner ever since I heard Original Pirate Material is, “How comes you’re from Birmingham but rap in an Essex sink estate accent?”
“I was quite Brummie, but lost most of it when I went to London as a survival thing. Londoners are so condescending that eventually you think, ‘Fuck it, I’ll fit in’. A lot of people don’t respect me for that, but I don’t really give a shit.”
One of the loftier – and frankly preposterous – claims made on Skinner’s behalf is that he’s “the new Dostoevsky” (literary professor John Sutherland, what were you thinking?)
“It always surprises me when people say I’m a poet ‘cause I’ve learnt enough about poetry to know the difference between it and songwriting,” he proffers. “Poetry is meant to be so densely symbolic that you’re really not supposed to be able to understand it on first read. You’re supposed to spend all day re-reading it and let it get you gradually. With songwriting the purpose is that by the end of those three minutes, even if you didn’t hear a line ‘cause the performer didn’t say it clearly enough, you must know exactly what it’s about. That’s what I’m into and that’s what I want to be good at.
“I do have respect for poets I didn’t have before,” Skinner adds mischievously, “but only because the best ones think that most other poets are cunts!”
I’ll have to run that one by Seamus Heaney. Instead of Keats and Kippling, Mike professes to being “into Jimmy Webb and a lot of the Johnny Cash stuff. Bob Dylan was a great voice, but I don’t think that he’s a tidy songwriter. I’m more into country.”
That record company release he approved also goes on about “The new generation of social-realist popsters weaned at The Streets teat – from Arctic Monkeys at the top of the evolutionary ladder to Hard-Fi and The Ordinary Boys a little further down.” What’s Mike’s take on the Class of ‘06?
“I’m not a big fan of modern songwriting,” he confesses. “There’s a culture of bands writing their own stuff, but being a rock star and a crafter of songs isn’t necessarily the same thing. The quality of lyrics isn’t as good as it used to be when they were done separately from the music. A band who do have that craft – hence them being ‘top of the evolutionary scale’ – are the Arctic Monkeys.”
Has he heard Mario Rosenstock’s take on ‘Dry Your Eyes’?
“The Roy Keane one? We were listening to that the other day in the venue and, yeah, I really love it. One of the things I’ve always wanted to do is have a football song, so I’m half-way there!”
Would he do a Moby and go rock ‘n’ roll for an album?
“I’d have a go at anything… except if it’s to do with Moby! Take away the Moby bit and, yeah, I’d be up for some rock ‘n’ roll. I want to make more and more music – the challenge being finding new directions.”
Given her Dracula-like penchant for sucking the blood out of young producers, I’m amazed that Madonna’s not been on the phone.
“Actually, I’m hoping that this album does see me taken a bit more seriously as a producer,” Mike concludes. “I don’t think huge artists were going to take a punt on my rough and ready style. That said, I’d find it really awkward working with somebody at her level. I’ve got a record label and would rather elevate the people on it to Madonna-like heights.”
In the form Skinner’s in at the moment, you wouldn’t spread-bet against it.