Hard & Soul

Hailing from the vibrant hotbed of musical creativity they call Staines, by way of West London, Hard-Fi made an instant impact with their debut album Stars Of CCTV, a genre-straddling mix’n’match that fused Kaisers/Monkeys adrenaline-rush indie-punk with elements of hip-hop, house and reggae, not dissimilar to The Clash’s latter-day output.

CCTV went Number One with a bullet, shifted zillions of units and got shortlisted for the Mercury Music Prize, losing by one vote to Antony And The Johnsons.
Now, of course, it’s Difficult Second Album time, the band having spent the last year concocting the creation that would eventually become Once Upon A Time In The West. It’s rawer and sharper than its predecessor, and more emotionally soul-searching, frontman Richard Archer having recently lost his mother.
Rich describes the record as “much more subtle. CCTV was a high-energy album, very brash, full-on, in-yer-face. I still think it’s a top record, but it sounds a bit angry, like some guy who’s shouting the odds and demanding attention and not wanting to be ignored. On this one, it’s like he’s got his head kicked in, picked himself up and dusted himself down, and learnt a few lessons, and he’s moving on – more determined than ever, but more stealthy, with a quiet sense of purpose.”
The album’s title pays deliberate homage to Sergio Leone’s classic western of the same name: “Yeah, it’s a good one. The tour bus is a great place to watch films, and we used to watch that one over and over. We loved the soundtrack, as well, anything Morricone ever did is worth a listen. So the title was always knocking around, always in the air, we were dying to use it. And when it came to deciding the album’s title, the decision was more or less unanimous, it was there before most of the tracks were. It just felt right. Also, we’re from West London. And it’s got a fairytale quality – fairytales always have moments of tragedy, moments of hope, moments of sorrow, the full range of human experience, which is what we were hoping to convey on the album. It just seemed to fit and sounded good.’
The lads’ lives having been utterly transformed since their profile increased, there was never any realistic prospect of them cranking out a straightforward sequel to CCTV, much as many of their fans might have preferred.
“It was the most difficult part of making the record: 'Who are we? What are we talking about?' We looked back at the first record, and there’s stuff there like ‘Cash Machine’ and ‘Hard To Beat’. ‘Cash Machine’ is basically about having no money, 'cos we were all skint when the band formed. Obviously we’ve a few quid now, so it would have seemed completely weird singing about that. ‘Living For The Weekend’ isn’t really relevant any more either, the way it was when we worked your standard 40-hour week and lived for the weekend. All the songs on the first album are written from experience: this one has more of a balance towards stories written about other characters, though there are some personal songs on it. You don’t want people to think you’re having them on – you listen to Bruce Springsteen and he’s still singing about blue-collar workers putting in a shift at the factory, and he’s on his 10th million or whatever.”
According to Richard, a gentle word or two from the record company fell on deaf ears.
“You’ve got people from the label saying, ‘We need another ‘Hard To Beat’,’ and I’m thinking, ‘Do we really?’ People have got ‘Hard To Beat’, why would they want to hear it again?’ Just because people loved us doing a certain kind of song, it doesn’t mean we have to patronise them by churning out the same one over and over again. You’ve got to write what’s in your heart and what you’re feeling now. We’re in a different place now, and I couldn’t write songs like that.”
The wounds caused by his recent bereavement (Rich lost his mother in 2005 and his father in 2002) are still painfully raw, though the band’s success has eased the pain considerably. As he testifies: “The last two years have been amazing times, the best moments of my life – all my dreams coming true, basically. I’ve been mucking around with bands for as long as I can remember, I’ve been in bands that looked like they were going to make it but didn’t, bands that got signed but then fell to pieces – and then, finally, it all comes together. You’re there pinching yourself, thinking, ‘Is this really happening?’
“I can go down to the studio and there’s more than one guitar to choose from, and they’re all in tune and they haven’t got bits falling off. These little things tell you you're doing well – people stop you in the street and ask about the new record, stuff like that. But at the same time I’ve had personal tragedies, I’ve lost my mother and father and there’s nothing I can do to bring them back, I’ve got to accept it and move on.
“You dream of making it big, it finally happens, and you think that’s it, everything in your world is sorted. Then something like that happens, and it hits you like an earthquake. Really fucks you up. I’m still trying to deal with it, but it can’t be done overnight.”
He’s endeavoured to deal with it as best he can by working like a demon.
“Obviously you try to keep busy," he says, "it’s the only way – Hard-Fi’s become like more than a band, it’s a mission. I’ve poured everything into making it as perfect as it can be, and it isn’t until you finish the album and come off tour and stop for a second that everything catches up with you. So the album’s very much about me trying to process what’s happened – ‘Help Me Please’ is directly about it. We originally did it for the Help: War Child album, and I thought it had got overlooked and deserved a reworked, enhanced version to be on the new album. I wanted people to hear it, I wanted everyone to know. Everyone in the band and around the band fell in love with the song. It was already knocking around before my mum passed away, and I can remember her listening to it and saying, ‘Oh, I like that one.’ Of course, then the first thing you think is, ‘It’s no good, we can’t use this, my mum likes it.’ But after what happened, it seemed appropriate to use it.”
The band’s front cover artwork makes New Order records look encyclopaedic. Once Upon A Time In The West’s sleeve has a plain yellow background with the album title at the top, and NO COVER ART written in large white letters beneath: the new single, ‘Suburban Knights’ has a plain black sleeve with EXPENSIVE BLACK AND WHITE PHOTO OF BAND NOT AVAILABLE on the front. Opinion is divided about this strategy’s effectiveness.
“We’ve discussed this quite a lot,” proffers Rich. “We wanted to try something original and different. I used to collect vinyl, cause I used to DJ with it, and the artwork was always a big part of it, something to savour. Artwork’s important, it gives an extra dimension to the thing, so you should put an effort into it. The first record had the CCTV sign – that came about more by accident than anything, we’d made a mini-album with a CCTV image of us. And in Britain, there’s something like four million CCTV cameras, which is mind-blowing when you think about it. Every city centre, every small town, you’re being watched. Middlesbrough has pioneered this ‘talking CCTV’ which basically means there’s some lad being paid to sit watching it, and he’s able to issue orders by loudspeaker, like, ‘You there – yes, you! Stop and pick up that piece of chewing-gum.’ It’s a concept that first appeared in 1984, as far as I know.
“So when it came to making this one, we had a few options. Obviously the title of the record suggests the Wild West and a couple of cowboys, and that was mooted by our drummer at one point ‘cos he likes dressing up. Then the record label stepped in and said they wanted a picture of the band on the cover, cause it apparently sells more records and it’s cheap and record shops like it – and we were like ‘Fuck off, that’s just so wrong’. Cause we’d really tried everything out on the record, pushed it as far as we could, and it was bloody hard work. The album took so long because some songs had eight basslines or 10 drumbeats or 12 different arrangements, we tried as much variety as possible, and here we were then getting to the artwork and it’s like, ‘That’ll do’. And you look around at your contemporaries and they’re all doing the same thing. And we wanted to say something, make a point: the whole point of the artwork is that really, there is no artwork. You think about the fonts, you think about the colours, you want it to look beautiful, but you also want it to say, ‘We’re not playing the game’.”
Reaction has, generally, been quite positive.
“It blew my mind when I heard that Peter Saville, who made the Factory sleeves and the Roxy Music sleeves, loved the sleeve and said it was the best one he’d seen in 20 years. Other people seemed shocked, outraged, you could almost see the spit flying out of their mouths – like we were breaking the law. It’s like, don’t you want bands to take risks, to say something, to have opinions, say what they believe in? I don’t want to be in a band that plays safe, doesn’t take chances, keeps everyone happy. All my favourite bands have always had opinions, and not been afraid to speak their minds.”

Once Upon A Time In The West is out now on Warner