Young Fathers Interview

The first many heard of Young Fathers was when the trio of Edinburgh rhymers won the 2014 Mercury Music Prize for their searing debut album, Dead. A Mercury triumph can change a band's career – but, as they posed with their trophy for the press, Young Fathers seemed heroically stoic, as if they had just received bad news and were processing it in real time. The London media was naturally aghast at what was perceived as a lack of gratitude: who did these uppity Scots think they were?
"We weren't nervous – at all," says Alloysious Massaquoi, the group's unofficial spokesman. "I think that was the problem. Journalists were unhappy we didn't jump around when we won. We had a sense of perspective – yes, we won an award which is prestigious and British and all of that. We didn't start this band to win awards."
They have since discovered that the Mercury's cachet is not quite as far-reaching as its cheerleaders might have you believe. On a recent tour of America, journalists and record industry types often responded with a shrug when Young Fathers were introduced as Mercury winners. They might as well have fetched up in the US with a clutch of under-14 junior football medals for all it mattered.
"Some people just didn't have a clue – it would be like 'you won the Mercury, eh?' Really, it's our live music that gets the message across.
He his speaking as the band are en route to Glastonbury, where their mid-afternoon Saturday appearance will prove mildly controversial. The group are unhappy that their stage has been changed at the last minute and this anger will manifest in a ferocious performance – the kind of frenetic assault that feels consciously designed to divide opinion. They certainly didn't win over reality TV singer Gareth Gates who took to Twitter to disdain their set. "Bands like Young Fathers offend me," he ranted. "Where is the musicianship?"
Young Fathers aren't too upset by controversy. Indeed they seem to rather relish confrontation. Since coming together at an Edinburgh youth club ten years ago, they have always felt like awkward outsiders. Their sense of alienation is accentuated in England, where the idea of anyone rapping with a Scottish accent is regarded as genuinely boundary-busting. Aren't Scottish people mostly about Iron Bru and deep fried confectionary?
"We've had this battle since we were teenagers," Massaquoi sighs. "You get a strange reception if you do what we do and don't come from a satellite of London. You have to put up with all this bullshit – your accent sounds funny, shouldn't you be playing bagpipes? So much nonsense. People have the idea that artists from Scotland ought to be singer-songwriters or play guitar. It's as if you aren't credible doing anything else."
Then, the three musicians have been through worse than a Twitter pummelling courtesy of Gareth Gates. Massaquoi's family is from Liberia and he lived for a spell in a refugee camp in Ghana. By the time he made his way to Edinburgh as a seven-year-old he'd seen enough for several life-times.
"We've never felt we fitted in," he says. "We are outsiders – we've always been outsiders. When the three of us came together and started making music there was a sense that we weren't supposed to be doing this. We did it anyway."
The buzz from their Mercury win had scarcely died down when Young Fathers returned with a second long-player, White Men Are Black Men Too. Recorded in Berlin the album doubles down on the combative first principles of their debut – with its screwball beats and bleak poetry, the record makes for a raw, compelling listen and is a reminder that there's more to British hip-hop than the Top Shop swagger of Tinie Timpah and his ilk.
"After the album came out we went to South Africa and people were intrigued by the title. They were struck by it and wanted to have a conversation around it. We toured Russia too – going through the airport was problematic. However, the audiences were amazing. So warm and welcoming. Live is where it's at for us. We're going to Glastonbury straight from another gig and right now I've been up 36 hours. It's tiring – but exciting. I wouldn't have it any other way."