Kelly's Heroes

DOH! It was one of those Homer Simpson moments. On a wet Wednesday in Hot Press I'd been told that because the Stereophonics were indefinitely stranded in Reykjavik airport they had decided to while away the long hours in the departure lounge by doing some press. Would I be able to interview Kelly Jones in 30 minutes' time? No problem.

Calling Mr Jones—wake up now!—half an hour later, I begin our chat by empathising with his flight plight.

"Kelly, how's it going? I believe you're stranded in Iceland."

"Where?"

"Reykjavik. I'm told you're stuck in the airport there."

"Who the fuck told you that? We're in Cologne."

Inwardly cursing the good ship V2 Records and all who sail in her for their lack of geographical savvy, I proceed to ask a question of such stupidity that I seriously consider making my own way to Germany at high speed in order to intercept it before it reaches the other end of the telephone line: "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," my interviewee chuckles in a soft Welsh lilt. "We're snowed into Cologne airport. We've been here for five hours trying to find a place to go because there's no flights anywhere. It's just been one of those fucking days to be honest with you. We're supposed to get to Zurich tonight but there's ice and snow everywhere. We're doing promo and then we've some gigs in a couple of days."

Perhaps it's because their name sounds vaguely similar to a certain Dublin-based drum 'n' bass collective, but the uninitiated are often surprised by their initial exposure to Stereophonics, the latest in a long line of Welsh noisemongers to have stormed the British charts. Loops, breakbeats, samples and sequencers are all conspicuous by their absence from the output of a band who proudly cite AC/DC as their heroes and peddle a fine line in good old-fashioned rock 'n' roll.

Then again, maybe it's just me. I remember being gobsmacked (and even a little disappointed) upon seeing them live when the NME Bratbus pulled into Dublin last year. After the searing sonic assault of Asian Dub Foundation, Stereophonics seemed plodding, almost boring, in comparison.

"Ah yeah, The Red Box," Kelly recalls. "I don't know what I can say about that really. It was our first gig back after Christmas and we were a bit rusty. I forgot all the words of one of the songs. The NME pretty much sold that tour on our name, but I don't know how many were there to see us and how many came to see the Asian Dub Foundation."

I decide not to shatter his illusions by revealing that, as far as I can remember, ticket sales for the gig were so poor that most present were industry freeloaders who had been lured in on a promise of free tickets and libation. If nothing else, said inducements ensured that a good time was had by all.

"That was a great night, it was good crack," Kelly continues. "The last time we'd been in Dublin before that had been at the 'In The City' Unsigned competition, but we got disqualified because we'd been signed a couple of weeks previously. We were just there looking for a publishing deal really."

Stereophonics make no secret of their heavy metal fetish and, talking to Kelly, he makes it clear in no uncertain terms that, of the Brit and Kerrang! gongs they bagged last year, the one from the heavy metal bible occupies pride of place on the Stereophonic mantelpiece. Wasn't he concerned that his band's exemplary personal hygiene might have rendered them ineligible for such an award?

"We were up against some serious metal bands alright," he laughs. "We were sitting at the table beside AC/DC so I didn't really give a fuck whether or not we won because that made the whole evening worthwhile. I met Angus Young, which made my year.

"I mean, you go to the Brit Awards and you get all these box crackers and bottles of wine and cold Couscous . . . all that sort of shite. Now, compare that to the Kerrang! awards where you get a bottle of vodka, a bottle of Jack Daniels, a crate of beer, bangers and mash and you're walking around bumping into people like Angus and Lemmy . . . it's great. It starts at four in the afternoon so it becomes an all-day bender, whereas the Brit Awards are held in what resembles a football stadium, so you lose everyone and then spend the whole night looking for them."

Already a contender for both video and single of the year, "The Bartender And The Thief" hails from Performance And Cocktails, a riff-heavy, surprisingly varied opus which features no more than a handful of what can loosely be described as total rock-outs. The video for the aforementioned single is nothing short of sublime. A virtual remake of Apocalypse Now, it must surely have cost more than a few weeks' pocket-money.

"No, it was actually very cheap, much cheaper than people think," Kelly explains. "It actually only cost 70 grand because everything is really, really cheap in Thailand. We were already going there anyway to do promotion, and then we discovered that our record company has lots of contacts in the Thai army and police, so we were able to get the real army in the video. That was their helicopter in the video too. It was very, very cheap despite the fact that it looks massive. Most people think it cost a few hundred grand. We were very, very happy with the reaction to it."

The Stereophonics' most triumphant gig to date must surely have been their homecoming performance at Cardiff Castle last summer. As live spectacles go, Hot Press art director Simon Roche describes it as one of the best he's ever witnessed.

Kelly laughs: "He's lying! Ah no, it was a good night. It was great to come back to Wales and do a big show. We had no idea that it would actually be that big. It was a big shock. We were shitting ourselves for the entire night, because there was 10,000 people coming to see us. It was the first time we'd played in Wales since we did Cardiff University in front of about 1,200 people five or six months previously. But, I'd actually like to do it again now that we've a bit more experience and just enjoy it a bit more. We had a great time back then but it was just a bit tense."

But surely they'd played in front of bigger crowds on the festival circuit?

"Well, y'see at festivals we'd be playing under the assumption that the whole crowd was there to see everybody else," Kelly explains. "You just go on, do your thing, keep it as tight as you can and then go off. But after doing Cardiff we've realised that a lot of the people at festivals have specifically come to see us.

"Festivals are a bit weird, actually, cos you've got to walk on without doing a sound check, you're up to your knees in mud, you're mixing with other bands backstage . . . it's good crack, though. You get to see everyone else eating their dinner with wellies on: Sheryl Crow in wellies, imagine that."

Mmmm . . . Sheryl Crow in wellies. In Offaly we think of little else.

"Yeah," Kelly laughs. "That's all she had on, nothing except wellies."

Performance And Cocktails is out now on V2 Records.