Kirsty MacColl wrote her first hit song at the age of eighteen, inspired by the girl groups of the early Sixties. Recorded by Tracey Ullman soon after, They Don’t Know was a welcome gift of sweet melody amidst the raucous tumult of the punk movement of 1979. Ironically, Kirsty and her friends were fans of the Sex Pistols and the Ramones, and she had been in her own punk band shortly before. Kirsty describes how she was discovered by the people at the legendary Stiff Records.
"Stiff had paid for us to do some demos, although very soon after, I left the band, just because it wasn’t any good. It was pretty awful! And I was the token girl. After I left, Stiff Records called and said: 'We'd like you to come and play us anything you’ve got.' I said, 'I thought you didn't like the demos;' and they said: 'We hate the band, but we quite like you!' When they asked if I had any songs, I said 'Oh yeah, loads!', even though I didn't at all. Then I thought, 'Oh God, I'd better write something before I go in to see them.' And that's when I wrote They Don’t Know."
Nothing Kirsty writes comes as a surprise anymore, having proven herself equally comfortable in styles as diverse as rock, pop, country and Latin jazz. Her forays into country and Brazilian samba, sung with her soft English accent, are completely natural and unaffected, revealing her sensitivity for the musical spirit at the heart of each. Kirsty's vocal quality can be as reminiscent of Brazilian singer Astrud Gilberto as of the English folksinger Sandy Denny. Kirsty spent her early years listening to as many styles of music as she could find, from Bach to Buddy Holly and the Beatles, having been ill quite often as a child and turning to music as therapy. Growing up, she was attracted to the California surf culture and the music of Jan and Dean and the Beach Boys.
"I grew up in London where you don't have any surf, and that music spoke a foreign language. All the songs about cars and surfboards were what I really wanted to know about. I thought, 'Shit, I want to be in that world'."
She undoubtedly inherited some of her creative nature from her mum, a choreographer, and her folk singing dad. Her musical training came during seven years of learning classical guitar, although she claims it was of little help as a rock musician. Kirsty ruefully admits, "I couldn't strum a guitar until three years ago!"
Kirsty recently toured the U.S., performing songs from her brilliant new compilation album Galore, a collection which includes eighteen musical gems from her fifteen years in music; from the days immediately following her unlikely start as a teenage London rocker, to her present status as an internationally respected singer and songwriter. Was it unusual for a girl to be in a punk band in 1978?
"Everyone was in a punk band in those days. My band was more R&B with a punk image."
They got into the whole punk look?
"Well I did, I don’t know about them!"
From your punk roots, you established yourself as an artist of many talents.
"We don't have quite as much categorization in Britain. With They Don’t Know people just thought what a great pop song. 'Pop music' is not a dirty word in England; it doesn't necessarily mean 'disposable', although a lot of it is. But then a lot of dance, or rap, or rock music is disposable. The English music charts are so varied because we've got one national radio station. We complain about it when we're there but when we see what’s here we say, 'Thank God for Radio One' because they really have variety in the stuff they play."
You've written songs in so many different styles, you don't seem to approach a new album and say, 'This will be a pop album' or whatever.
"Well, I can say that, but it's never worked out that way. It keeps it interesting. With anything, to get good at it, you want to keep learning. One of the ways I keep learning is by working with different kinds of musicians from different countries and listening to lots of different stuff. You know, 'I like those Bulgarian harmonies, maybe that'll fit on this'." (laughs)
Your performance is so casual and effortless, it reminds me of how the Irish get up and spontaneously sing so beautifully at the pub for friends.
"That's something you get in Ireland or Latin America as well, where everybody sings and dances, not just celebrities. Which is how it should be. Everybody should sing and dance, it’s part of life. In England there’s so few men who dance, it’s quite shocking. They've lost it somewhere. It can't be normal not to ever dance."
Was touring with the Pogues as wild as one might expect?
"They're not all like Shane MacGowan. Even Shane is not always like Shane. They were really sweet to me, like family. They know how to party."
What quality do you value as a performer?
"The ability to bounce back is what’s required, because you’re going to get a lot of knocks. Especially if you’re not coming from the supermodel angle where it's just marketing and you’re presented as a sort of puppet. That's particularly bad in England where it's very sexist. They really don't like women with independent ideas. You know, 'Why do you have to be so stroppy about it, can’t you just dye your hair blonde like everybody else?' "
When shyness held you back, did you ever consider just being a songwriter?
"Yeah, but I'd have to tone down my lyrics and make them much less personal. I want to do them the way I envision them being done. So I've just got to go for it."
© 1995 Muse Magazine All rights reserved. Redistribution for profit prohibited. Copies must include this notice
© freeworld 1995 - 2010