That Patrol Emotion

Gary Lightbody is, quite understandably, planning on getting his head showered at the famed Optimo club in Glasgow. Courtesy of some striking French television technicians, he is enjoying a rare (and unplanned) weekend at home, “doing all those mundane things” that, your average multi-million selling rock star has difficulty squeezing into his schedule. It’s a pretty tumultuous time for him. America is calling, U2 await, the biggest headline show in Snow Patrol’s career is a matter of months away, and, in the middle of it all, a career-defining new record will have to be hammered into shape. Add in the draining effects of a traumatic few months that have seen the band part company, in less than amicable circumstances, with founding member and co-songwriter, Mark McClelland, and the Bangor boy’s yearning for a pint is understandable.

“I might have one or two,” he says. Well, once he’s defrosted the fridge.
You should all be aware by now of the angle driving most Snow Patrol articles circa the commercial skin-saver that was Final Straw. Here was a group of mates who had made a series of likeable and promising records that, because of a familiar combination of label disinterest and face-don’t-fit cultural imperatives, failed to make any great impression on the public at large. With disintegration and day-jobs looming they made a last and desperate throw of the dice, and amazingly, with the help of one, ubiquitous song, went on to rack up the kind of worldwide sales normally associated with bands wearing much more expensive trainers. More like a five-a-side team than a collection of rock stars; Snow Patrol’s, under the wire success appeared to be a triumph of spit and sawdust brotherhood at a time when most acts seemed faceless and impossible to identify with – going ballistic with a debut LP but imploding before you’d found out their surnames.
Last Christmas they broke box office records when playing a series of shows at Belfast’s Ulster Hall. On stage, a beaming Gary reminisced about playing to thirty people in a bar across the road. It had been a long and strange journey. Mark was smiling too.
“It was weird,” Gary recalls. “ We always felt very nervous about playing Belfast. Maybe it was because we moved to Glasgow, but I always felt there was a bit of tension there. We always tended to get stressed and – through our fault, rather than the audience’s – tended to have some really bad gigs. But it was completely different this time. We played The Mandela Hall in March and it was one of the best gigs ever. People were singing the words to album tracks. Then we played The Ulster Hall at Christmas, made history in our home town. It was amazing. A highlight of our lives, really. It doesn’t get much better than that.”
For most of those present, the band appeared to present a picture of domestic contentment. Within a matter of weeks, however, the situation had changed dramatically. A few sessions into preliminary recording for the follow up to Final Straw, Snow Patrol announced through their website that they “could not move forward with Mark as a member.”
The bass player subsequently provided his own take on events during an interview with The Daily Record, claiming that the band had “just sprung it on me.” He professed himself “shocked” by what had happened.
Whatever the internal politics that led to this situation – and Gary is adamant that any disputes that did arise are going to remain in-house – for anyone who had enjoyed Snow Patrol’s last-minute success, the fact – and nature – of Mark’s departure seemed desperately sad.
“Definitely,” says Gary. “I’m not going to talk about the details but overall it was an incredibly sad thing to happen. All I will say is that it wasn’t a decision that was made lightly. Believe me, it’s the toughest thing we’ve ever, ever had to do. It’s broken our fucking hearts and I still find it hard to talk about. But it was our decision and Mark, at the end of the day, is the one who has been affected most. At the same time, it’s not been easy for us. We’re still recovering from it and, to be honest, I’m not sure we’ll ever get over it. I feel horrible for putting Mark through it and I think about him every day. We might seem like drunken idiots but actually we’re very guarded and we like to keep our own counsel. Most people that try to get under the surface discover that we’re quite boring. So, it’s been really upsetting to find newspapers writing about us. That was hard. People have been hurt by this but we’ve made our decision and we just need to live with it. We’ve got to move forward. I don’t want to be drawn into telling stories. We’ve broken Mark’s heart and we’re not going to rag on him.”
And they haven’t been slow in moving on. Earlier this month it was announced that Paul Wilson – one of Gary’s Glaswegian sparring partners and a former member of Snow Patrol touring mates, Terro Diablo – had been snapped up on a free transfer.
Gary insists that it was important to act quickly.
“It’s a hectic time for us," he says. “We couldn’t afford to hang around. We wanted to get someone in who was part of the family and Paul has played with us before and his old band toured with us loads of time. We needed someone who would slot in straight away and he’s done that. He’s also an amazing musician – plays piano, guitar, and trombone probably.”
Wilson will be blooded during a six week tour of the U.S, timed to coincide with the radio-release of ‘Chocolate’.
“This is the last lap,” resumes Gary. “It’s a good way to put Final Straw to bed. We’ve written a hell of a lot of songs. When we come back from the U.S, and after the U2 tour, we’ll probably spend another month writing and honing things and then go off into the studio in September. Hopefully it’ll be a pretty quick turn around. I want it to be a pretty concise record, so there’ll be no jamming. We’ll have everything written before we go in.”
This optimism is based on a wildly productive spell that the band recently spent cloistered in a rented house in Kerry. Disappearing into a rural retreat is a long-established tradition amongst rock bands. So, did Snow Patrol find their very own Big Pink or have the band turned hippy?
“Totally hippy,” laughs Gary. “We went down there, lived in a house on a hilltop and got very Zen. The people were brilliant, and, amazingly enough, the weather remained absolutely beautiful throughout. We spent our time walking along cliff-faces looking at clouds.”
And did it have any influence on the songs?
“Oh aye. Too much of an influence. Two weeks in we realised that we hadn’t any rock songs, so it was a case of: 'Pack up lads: we’re heading for a tower block'.
"I don’t want anyone thinking we’re writing Fisherman’s Blues. We’re still a loud band.”
According to Lightbody, the record has already taken shape. September will see them enter the studio in a confident mood.
“It’s all in my head, but whether or not I can get it out of there is another story. But I’m trying not to worry too much. We’ve already come up with the best song we’ve ever written called ‘Chasing Cars’. I’m loathe to say it but people will draw comparisons with ‘Run’. I personally don’t think they’re that alike but, without wishing to sound like a prick, I do think it’s pretty anthemic. There’s also a tune called ‘It’s Beginning To Get To Me’ that’s based around a riff that Paul came up with in his first week. It’s brilliant, really rough but really poppy. And we’ve a mental rock, AC/DC tune called ‘Your Halo’ which we wrote after watching U2 Go Home on DVD one night. We were all sitting round saying that’s the way to do it live and just got up, went into the live rehearsal room and banged it out.”
Anyone keen to grab a sneak preview of these songs will be given ample opportunity over the summer when Snow Patrol play some of the highest profile shows of their career. On July 1st they headline Fitzgerald Park in Killarney (“A huge gig,” according to Gary. “Probably our biggest gig so far. I’ll have to wash my hair for that one.”), while soon afterwards they support U2 on their European tour, including the monster shows at Croke Park.
“I won’t really believe it until I’m onstage. Who hasn’t dreamed of doing that? And if you haven’t, why not? The band asked us. They’d mentioned it in the press and everywhere we went people were asking us if it was going to happen, but nothing was ever put to us directly. We were on tenterhooks for a while. When it did happen, we did a lap of honour. To play with U2 in Dublin – it’s going to be off the hook, isn’t it?”
Have you met them?
“Only once. We went to pick up Garret (Lee – producer of Final Straw and How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb) from their studio when he was working on their last album and thought he’d be waiting at the reception. We were brought inside and when we walked in Bono was doing a vocal take in the recording booth. It was a bizarre and surreal 20 minutes. They were all there except Adam, and they were really sound. Ordinary, grounded guys – not at all like people up on a big screen.”
With all this going on, you wonder if Gary is feeling any stress at the moment. Previous Snow Patrol records have hardly been ushered in with expensive press campaigns. The new record will, inevitably, carry a heavier commercial burden following the success of Final Straw. This is, after all, the first time Snow Patrol are being expected to write songs that people will rush out and buy.
“I don’t feel much pressure,” he says after a pause. “Certainly not from the label – they’ve been very understanding about everything – maybe just the usual demands from our own expectations. But you can’t second guess yourself and you certainly can’t worry about whether you’re going to sell records or not. It’s just a nice position to be in at the moment. Our career thus far has been about avoiding trends, with the exception of last year when we accidentally hit one. We can’t worry about repeating that. All that should be concerning us now is getting back into our little vacuum.
“The trap that bands have fallen into is complacency,” he continues. “Time and money can be dangerous things, especially if you have an ego to feed. We’re not like that – not as a band and not as people. We’ll be pretty fast – as I said earlier, concise and focused. We’re not going to argue over snare drum parts, we’ve just to make sure its heart is in the right place.”
And with that, he’s off – into the familiar Glasgow night. Thinking about the future; thinking about the past.