Hed Of the Class

THE HEDROCK Valley Beats boys were up partying this morning until five o'clock, and frankly it shows.
Ashen of face and furry of tongue, one imagines that they'll have some very choice words to say to the publicist who insisted on them bussing down to Dublin before breakfast.
"I know it's almost the law for bands to hate doing them, but I actually quite like interviews," proffers Declan McLaughlin in-between much needed mouthfuls of black coffee.
"Aye, you can talk about yourself without being told to shut-up," agrees his equally peaky-looking colleague, Frankie Kane.
While there aren't too many households that they're a name in yet, the industry buzz is that the Derry big beaters could be the first Irish act to make a major Y2K breakthrough. The omens are certainly good with the trio - bassist Foxy is still in bed nursing his hangover - considering a period of sobriety so that they can catch up on their backlog of remixes.
"Yeah, it's been mad recently," McLaughlin resumes. "We're waiting for the parts to come over so that we can do a remix of 'Crash' by James. Their label - Mercury - brought us to London a couple of months ago and gave us the red carpet treatment. Y'know, all the lobster and ostrich we could eat, and bottles of wine that don't cost #4.99 in Tesco's!
"Which reminds me. We were meant to call Clint Boon up today about one of his songs. There are a couple of underground dance things we're doing as well, so we're really going to have to knock the drinking on the head for a couple of weeks."
Tampering with other people's work throws up a whole series of ethical questions - the main one being, can you chuck everything away apart from the snare sound?
"The only time we were told not to fuck around with a track was when Ash's record company got us to do 'Jesus Says'. In particular, we had to keep all of Tim Wheeler's vocals."
The result is a mad Iggy-meets-Fatboy Slim noise which Steve Lamacq loved, and the aforementioned Mr. Wheeler apparently loathed.
"Yeah, there's a story that he 'phoned Lamacq up and told him to stop playing it," Kane takes-over. "They wouldn't, in all honesty, be our favourite band, but Infectious sent a copy of the album over for us to listen to, and we thought, 'Aye, there are a few things we can do with it'. Happy days, except that no one had told Ash about it. There are a few promos kicking around, but I'd be surprised if it comes out commercially."
Although financially-rewarding, Hedrock Valley Beats are looking forward to the day when they can knock this remix lark on the head, and concentrate on their own material. Which, in case you're wondering, is the equal of anything that's been farmed out to them.
"I don't want our name to always be in brackets," McLaughlin says. "The best thing in the world is going on stage and playing your own songs - which we're extremely good at. We're not The Prodigy, but whenever we do a gig the keyboards, scratching and bass are live. We basically jam over our own backing-tracks."
It's this ability to make people sweat which makes the band such an enticing proposition for record companies.
"Kids of 16 or 17, who've been brought up on DJs, are blown away by the fact we use real instruments. People who make it out to be a big Rock vs Dance thing are missing the point. There are elements of each which are valid."
A philosophy that's very much in evidence on 'Radio Beatbox'/'Rhode Island Swing' - their new double A-sided single which is harder to pin down than an epileptic Hulk Hogan.
"We won't be satisfied until we make a Fat Of The Land or a You've Come A Long Way, Baby," McLaughlin concludes. "Y'know, a record where the boundaries are so blurred they disappear." n