Wild Swans - A Revolutionary Spirit

Taking advantage of the release of "Scared To Get Happy – A Story Of Indie-pop 1980-1989", we interviewed the author of the track that opens this thorough compilation: Paul Simpson, the mastermind behind Wild Swans. A key figure throughout the entire decade covered by the compilation, Simpson recently revived Wild Swans, releasing new material in 2011. Here he talks freely about those years of musical and cultural change, as well as his future projects.

Hi Paul, thanks for agreeing to answer our questions. With a song by your band Wild Swans, you have the honor and privilege of opening one of the best indie-pop compilations ever: "Scared To Get Happy". Do you feel any pressure?

Paul: No, I don't feel any pressure, just surprise, because "The Revolutionary Spirit" is quite atypical compared to most of the material on "Scared To Get Happy". It's certainly "indie" but barely "pop"; together with a few other early-80s tracks like "Dumb Magician" by Blue Orchids, I think it represents a bridge between the more "serious" post-punk bands and the more pop and jangly scene that evolved afterwards.

The track we were talking about is "The Revolutionary Spirit". Can we say that Wild Swans were born with that song? Listening to it today, is there a particular memory that comes back to you?

Yes, "The Revolutionary Spirit" definitely defines Wild Swans. My main memory of that period is being broke and cold, but there was nothing to worry about as long as I was in a band with my best friend and we were on a mission.

"The Revolutionary Spirit" came out in 1982, and the first Wild Swans album in 1988. We could say you lived through the whole decade firsthand. What was the atmosphere like back then?

The political climate in Britain in 1982 was very similar to today's: the country was in recession and the British government had completely lost touch with the people, dealing with civil unrest with a very heavy hand. We lived through every moment as if it were being filmed. I don't think you can really see the true value of your work until at least a decade later. You need distance to be objective.

Aside from the music, what does indie-pop mean and what does it represent for you? Do you agree with the old definition: "Indie-pop is feminine. It always has been. Even the boys. Especially the boys"?

I can't speak for anyone else involved in the scene, only for myself, but what you call indie-pop was simply a natural reaction to post-punk, when a slightly younger generation of musicians found punk's nihilism and post-punk's overly serious, experimental tone too constricting to express their youth and exuberance.

What does this compilation mean to you, and what do you think is the meaning behind its name?

I believe “Scared To Get Happy” represents an attitude, a belief in ideas and enthusiasm beyond technical ability, and an attempt to define and prolong the indie aesthetic. My interpretation of the title is that much of the music on the CDs was made as a natural reaction against the slightly serious, humourless aesthetic of post-punk. There's a real thrill running between the words Scared and Happy. Almost polar opposites, but joined together they create a third meaning.

Does indie-pop generally carry a political judgement in its lyrics? If so, what changed with the indie pop of the 2000s? In the Eighties, was it working-class or middle-class music?

Some bands sang songs that reflected the turbulent times, others didn't. Some bands were working-class, others weren't. The most powerful music, of any genre, often contains references to struggle or overcoming it, but that's not an essential prerequisite — there's also something beautiful in the sound of positive exuberance.

What do you think were the reasons behind the creation of the C86 compilation, compared to earlier tapes like C81? What did the C86 sound like at the start, and what did it sound like by the end? What's your definition of C86 now, and what's the connection between C86 and indie-pop?

Not having been part of C86, I'm not really qualified to comment on it, but looking back now, I'd say there was a more political edge to the songs on C81. The songs on C86 were lighter, both musically and lyrically. It seems that the further we got from 1976, the more diluted the Do It Yourself message became. By the end of the Eighties, the underground had begun to be corrupted by the music business, and counterculture was being “handled”. Grunge, Madchester and britpop were bankrolled by labels and promoted by MTV. And now we have boybands, soul divas and R&B superstars headlining summer festivals, teenage TV presenters wearing MC5 or Ramones t-shirts without ever having heard either band. Because of the internet, iTunes and Spotify, music has lost much of its value. If no effort is made to discover lost bands and find rare records, if they're only a mouse-click away, they'll never be listened to or valued as treasures.

Let's talk about your band: the Wild Swans' first keyboardist, Rolo McGinty, later founded the Woodentops, who also appear on the compilation. Do you think this collection fully represents such a significant decade? What's the most important legacy left by these bands?

Rolo was our bassist (not keyboardist), and only for about 11 months. The Woodentops came as a pleasant surprise — I loved the positivity and freshness of their sound. A raw project, a return to basics, but with a refreshing lightness of spirit. I can't say whether STGH accurately represents the decade or not, because, like the period between 1960 and 1969, more than ten years' worth of cultural and musical change took place within it — but it's an interesting and accessible sample of bands that shared a similar aesthetic, especially for young listeners who otherwise might never have discovered many of these bands any other way.

The early period of the Wild Swans is collected on a few compilations; my impression is that the influence of post-punk was still very strong. What can you tell us about those early years? I've read that you shared a house with Pete de Freitas of Echo & The Bunnymen (who also produced “The Revolutionary Spirit”). What was the Liverpool music scene like?

Pete and I shared the top floor of a Victorian house about half a mile from the city centre. It shouldn't be the case, but as interesting as the Wild Swans and our friends Echo and The Bunnymen were, we were the only bands in Liverpool doing anything of significance at that time. The song “The Coldest Winter For A Hundred Years” documents that period far better than I could explain in a couple of lines.

Is it true that you felt you'd lost the urgency of the early period when you recorded “Bringing Home The Ashes” in 1988? To me it really seems like a good record.

No, I'm not really a fan of “BHTA”. It was truly a colossal wasted opportunity. I like the first two Radio One Sessions and the last record from 2011, but that middle period, and that record in particular, leave me a bit cold. It sounds unmagical, like a band that was subjected to outside interference rather than a band left alone to do what it does best.

In the Nineties, the Wild Swans were on stand-by and you carried on with other projects, including Skyray. I admit I don't know much about those songs; from what I've read and heard, it seems you rarely sang and the tracks were mostly instrumental. I find it hard to think of a record you made where I can't hear your voice. Can you tell us something about Skyray?

After the Wild Swans fragmented yet again in 1989, I still wanted to make music, but I felt absolutely no desire to sing. I was psychically wounded and needed a long, slow period of recovery. Because there are no vocal tracks on Skyray, there's nothing tying it to any consensus-established reality or to any particular period, and that's why I like it so much.

Over the last decade there have been a couple of reissues and retrospectives of the Wild Swans, right up to the new album “The Coldest Winter For A Hundred Years” in 2011. I've read that you consider “The Coldest Winter For A Hundred Years” the best work made as Wild Swans, and I can't help but agree with you. Ironically, I think it's actually the most pop work the group ever made. How did the desire to be a wild swan again come back?

I formed the band in 1980, and up until 1988 I was the only constant, so in effect I am the Wild Swans. I think it was simply unfinished business. Being an anomaly within the band's canon, I wasn't happy that “Space Flower” (now there's a pop record!) was the last statement from the WS, so I wanted to go back to the sound originally envisioned for the band, but also bring in a freer, more chaotic element that better reflected the times.

Are there any future plans for Wild Swans you can reveal?

I picked up a tropical virus in Sri Lanka last year that damaged my lungs, perhaps permanently, so for now I have no plans to play live, but I'm thinking about making another album as Wild Swans. Something different, because I don't want to make "Coldest Winter part two." I'm looking for a new sonic palette and a less materialistic approach to recording.

Have you ever been afraid of being happy?

With very few exceptions, "happiness" rarely produces great art. Unhappiness does, so I'm terrified of being happy. Luckily happiness has never been a problem for me. The last time I was truly happy was at age 3, after a visit to Santa Claus in a grotto, where I was given a gold-colored plastic dagger with 3 bright, colorful "jewels" in the handle.

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