Toothpick in mouth, chamomile tea in hand (a box of which was a gift from me), Chicago’s Willis Earl Beal took to the Biltmore Cabaret stage alone, clutching two books: The Little Book of Zen and a Bukowksi poetry collection. He read from Zen then chucked it over his head.

He read “The Harder You Try” from Chuck and we chuckled over the line “just being able to scratch yourself and be nonchalant is victory”. He welcomed us to the “Church of Willis Earl Beal”. He’s starting calling his gigs that, he said, because he’s a raging “egomaniac.”

Then he took hold of a whiskey and took off into the microphone.

“I’VE GOT A BONE BLEACHED STICK WITH TERMITE HOLES…” came this old-timey soul belter of a voice and the club went absolutely silent (until the drunkards arrived stage right).

His mouth opened wide during “Wavering Lines” and he spilled the drink in his hand. When he was done, I kid you not, the room collectively exhaled, and people shook their heads. The voice had been that powerful.

But this is the thing; Beal isn’t just a soul singer. Not in the smooth Gaye way. Not in the Northern Soul Mayfield way. Not in the theatrical Little Richards way.  Not just in the great godly gospel way (though there’s more of this here than anything).

There’s something otherworldly going on here. Wearing his kinda-now-typical skull shirt, shades and, inexplicably, an oversized leather winter glove on his right hand – Beal is quirky. He’s a portrait artist – used to be obsessed with drawing Sarah Michelle Gellar – and if you write to him, he will send you a drawing. It used to also be that you could call him and he’d sing you a song. Today, his voicemail is apologetic: he has had too many calls, but he still loves us. The phone songs are on hold, as it were.

He’s written a small chapbook, called the Principles of a Protagonist, that comes photocopied inside his vinyl and CDs. It is a fascinating tale of how anyone can achieve anything. Case in point.

Live, he picks at his flat guitar on his lap – “how do you play this thing?” he asks tonight, and he’s not kidding. He’s recorded his debut on “bad equipment. I like it this way, I hope you do too”. His back up band is a reel-to-reel.

His cloak is NOBODY – his drawing of an eerie xxxxs-for-eyes happy face.  He stands on a chair and belts. He uses his belt on a chair.

“Cosmic Queries” sounds eerie and thick in the dry ice tonight. “White Noise” is about “redemption.” “Sambo Joe and the Rainbow” is immense. It’s larger than the room and possibly most of East Vancouver.

But the there’s something else. The reigning King of Lo-Fi, Lou Barlow, calls him the “new king of lo-fi sweetness”.

“He’s heard of me?” asks Beal later. “He likes my stuff?”

He doesn’t know who Lou Barlow is, “I don’t know many people,” he says, and you believe him because anybody who spents more time in libraries instead of Facebook can be trusted. When I tell him Barlow’s a fan, the man standing next to Beal nods reverently. “I’m a fan of Barlow’s,” that man says. “That’s high praise.” I tell Beal I will send him some Barlow. They are kinda brothers in music, in a way.

So, sweetness.

This isn’t just a charismatic young man relying on the voice and well-timed showbiz jiggery pokery (the aesthetics of the reel-to-reel, the belt and blanket) on stage. There’s vulnerability in among the tape hiss and bad equipment on his album. “Evening’s Kiss” is simply so beautiful. In “Always My Lover,” he cries. ACTUALLY cries. On stage, he’s exhausted. He’s played for just over an hour and is spent. “Why these shows have to be so goddamn long?,” he jokes. It’s kind of been visceral.

Acousmatic Sorcery, his debut, is a weird thing. It’s got a bit of a voodoo, some absolutely stunning moments, and some strange plinking noises. Most people who now see Beal live, come away loving him. They might not love the album, though. And Beal wants you to know that. “This isn’t like that was,” he says to me, nodding at the vinyl I’m holding and gesturing towards the stage. “Oh, I know. It’s awkward,” I say. “And that’s what I like.” He puts down his Sharpie – there’s a queue wanting to meet him – and shakes my hand.

And the tea? Oh, I knew about the tea from the time he plastered Chicago in 2009 with flyers. It had a drawing of himself, some words and was advertising for a soulmate. He said he liked “oatmeal, trainstations, nighttime and chamomile tea”. “Did you see,  I had the tea!” he said to me, after. I saw.

Whatever this strange Beal is, he’s also a fully-fledged superstar. You just don’t know it yet.

There’s a line in that Bukowski poem, “If there is a light, it will find you.” Lordy, it has found Beal. \m/

Not big on small talk, the rather austere Hayley Mary of Sydney, AUS’s Jezabels stalked the stage of the venue called Venue in Vancouver, on May 1, clutching her mic whilst belting out indie pop at rocktacular decibels.

Backed by able drummer Nik Kaloper – whose monster thuds lend the Jezabels a more meaty sound – Sam Lockwood on guitar (who offers a touch o’ goth) and Heather Shannon on piano, Mary and Co. ran through tracks from debut full-lengther Prisoner (“Endless Summer”, “Hurt Me” and “Rosebud” for example) as well as snatches from earlier EPs including Dark Storm. Though musically their songs end up sounding a bit samey, it’s Mary’s voice, a sort of Florence-meets-Siouxsie-meets-Pat Benetar thing, that escalates matters. Warm them all up a bit, encourage Mary to peer out from her floppy fringe and make eye contact,  and the Jezabels could be that much better than good. \m/

Ah hell, sod it.

Really, all it is is the music of French 80s addict Anthony Gonzalez, aka M83. And it’s the kind of thing that brought joy to a sold-out theatre in Vancouver on a Friday night, causing drunken dudes to bro-hug and dance together, underdressed, backcombed downtown girls to sway and hipsters to punch the sky with happy.

The start included that furry, penis-nosed creature from the Hurry Up We’re Dreaming! album taking the stage, followed by the band segueing into – natch – “Intro” as longtime girl-voice Morgan Kibby stood in for Zola Jesus.  ”Graveyard Girl” came third, “Midnight City” later with all the laser-shot punctuation and a SURPRISE SAX SOLO! making everyone grin. “We Own the Sky” sounded thick and heady,  ”Skin of the Night”, delicate. And the bestest for nerds? Their remix of Daft Punk’s “Fall” from the Tron: Legacy soundtrack flooding into “This Bright Flash”? Oh yes…

Drummer Loïc Maurin once again held full court behind neon posts, whilst young guitarist Jordan Lawlor bounced around the stage. Kibby provided the requisite ethereal, and in the middle, le man, le myth, le LEGENDE, Anthony Gonzalez held court – sometimes on a Simian Mobile Disco-sized analog keyboard set up, sometimes on bass, sometimes facing Loïc with his hands clasped.

Ultimately, it was just a good, brightly coloured night of lights and layers. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go unwrap my limited edition No. 1028 “dandruff white” vinyl version of The Breakfast Club soundtrack that I got on Record Store Day, and think about unicorns. \m/

And where those sparks are reflected back at the crowd from the-hand-on-heart/heart-on-sleeve singer who tells you that he’s never had a bad show at the Biltmore Cabaret and how he can feel that love in the room and you believe him ‘cos he means it?

And how a voice can sound cloud-sized and enormous? And when the drums are so insanely tight, but the bass is fluid? And how “Idle Heart” starts you off,  ”The Reflection of You” begs you to dance, “Lovesick Teenager” has everyone bouncing,  ”You Do You” and “Dust Cloud” are trippy wonderful and “World of Freakout” makes you want to spin your arms?

And how you feel that the electro you’re hearing is likable and accessible and joyous and not perfect but perfect enough for tonight? And how afterwards, you thank Jon, Joe and Adam and they thank you for dancing in the front row?

Yeah, that. \m/

Such was the case for the lovely Laura Marling & Andrew Bird who played at Vancouver’s Vogue Theatre on April 10. Whilst I was tripping down memory lane with Thomas Dolby,  I dispatched local photog extraordinaire Brittney Kwasney from Bright Photography – who is a bit of a Marling FANATIC – to attend to the pretties of Marling & Bird. Here are her pics. \m/

Thomas Dolby – electro early adopter, 80s hitmaker – is telling stories on stage from behind a basic keyboard set up and a chair with a

laptop. It’s the first time he’s been back to Vancouver in 24 years or so, and he’s a little wooden, a little hesitant up there on the stage of the Rio… but a LOT funny, dry of wit and, reassuringly, still a bit bonkers.

His merch girls are dressed as kinda-steampunks, his openers Aaron Jonah Lewis and Ben Belcher play bluegrass, and he’s got a converted tin contraption with his name on it – a “time capsule” in which you can lie and record a message to send to the future – parked out front. During “Spice Road” in the encore, he brought out a belly dancer. And for the final dumb classic “Silk Pajamas” he led the audience of primarly 50-something men in a clapalong. All so wonderful!

Also wonderful to learn: Thomas Dolby records in his backyard of his house on the East Coast of England. Not in a shed or cottage, but in a 1930s lifeboat that he bought on Ebay. It’s called the Nutmeg of Consolation, of course, and it’s solar- and wind-powered. The lifeboat makes sense, Dolby explained, because England will soon tip into the sea. “But the weather’s not always obliging,” he continued. “There’s not a lot of sunshine. So we often have to wait.”

Another gem: when Dolby was mixing the video for “She Blinded Me With Science” in 1982 he struck up an unusual friendship with one Michael Jackson, who was working on a little video for a ditty called “Billy Jean” in the studio next door. Michael suggested that Dolby – write a song and send it to him. He did, excitedly, and never heard back. “So I called him up on the number he gave me and asked him what he thought,” said Dolby. “Michael said he liked the drums. I was, uh, well, Michael, I rather quite liked the melody, is there anything else I can offer you? And Michael asked: ‘are you near Wales?’ And I said, ‘like the country?’ I’m about a 5-6 hour drive away. What do you need? And Michael said: ‘could you get me some ragwort for my llamas?’ and then hung up the phone. And that’s the last time I talked to Michael Jackson.” The song he sent to Jackson? “Hyperactive”. Brilliant.

The stories don’t end: Dolby talks about a trip New Orleans, and walking into the Maple Leaf Lounge where 15 brass players were on one stage and “generations of music came together in my mind.” He talks about how the song “Love is like a Loaded Pistol” came from dream in which he said Billie Holiday told him to write a song with the line, “this time it’s love”, and he thought “that’s a bit crap, innit?”. Or how “The Toad Lickers” came from a chat he had with Wade Davis, National Geographic’s “Explorer”, at a TED conference, naturally. Wade told Thomas about how some people actually did lick toads.

“So I wondered, ‘what kind of music would these guys listen to while licking toads? I figured it would be a blend of Appalachian bluegrass and hardcore techno.” Dolby then proceeded to take us through the layers of the song’s backbone: Imogen Heap, Natalie McMaster and “Loop 37B in Garageband.”

Oh, Thomas, it really has been too long. And despite a setlist peppered with a few sleepy tracks, there were myriad stand-outs. “Evil Twin Brother” with samples from Regina Spektor (and teen son Graham on drums!), “One of our Submarines” and “Europa and the Pirate Twins”rather quite charming. “Hyperactive” was goofy, as you’d expect. Hurrah!

And as for “She Blinded Me With Science”, his classic? Let’s let Dolby tell it: “I went back to the multitrack tapes from that time and was transported back to the day when Dr. Magnus Pyke – [a famous eccentric British scientist who tried to explain his world to the layperson via TV and panels] – came in.” Dolby explains he’d asked the “crusty old buzzard – he’s no longer with us so I can diss him now” to speak a line in the song, with mixed results. Pyke struggled with the line and the, err, mad scientist way Dolby wanted him to say it.

“So I gave him the line I wanted to him read, and he said, ‘It’d be a bit surprising if a girl blinded ME with science, wouldn’t it, Dolby?”

But they pressed on and Eureka! The song became a hit. When Pyke returned from a tour of the US, he complained to Thomas. “Your bloody MTV video is better known than my entire body of work. And people kept jumping out behind me yelling SCIENCE! Scared me to death.”

And with that tale, Thomas Dolby’s return to the stage just became perfect. \m/

They’ve been wearing cassocks/nightgowns since the early aughties, there’s about 147 (actually 14) of them in the band, leader Tim DeLaughter bounds about like a slightly sub-Wayne Coyne preacher, waving his arms about, directing the floor like a choir, and you can’t help but notice that tiny, tiny red light that spells “CONTRIVED” flashing somewhere in your peripheral vision.

The last time I saw the Spree – in 2003 at London, England’s Astoria – I remember thinking they were utterly bonkers… but utterly charming. And it’s been a while, a long while, since the Spree came back around. Now,  here they are.

AND THEY ARE AWESOME.

Live, at least. The albums are yunno…okayyyyy, but a live show, is a Spree…so full of fun. Like candy, it rots your teeth after a while, but while you’re inhaling it, getting powder all over your gob, it’s just SO GOOD! And they sound great, so…WIN!

At a Polyphonic show, you can’t help but grin, loon-like, and do some sort of jig akin to the one the little feller does in the Men Without Hats video for “Safety Dance”.

When the gig starts from behind red fabric that Tim cuts through in the shape of a heart, when the guy with the green trombone blasts, when the trumpet player plays while knob twiddling his samplers, when the two drummers bash out behind perspex, when the girls in the back sing harmonies and flip their hair like Go-Go dancers, and when the bassist, keyboard player, guitarist jump around and shout out out out, it’s…Just. So. Much. FUN. And when the cellist finishes off by playing the thing upside down, resting on her shoulders? EPIC FUN. Welcome to the Church, folks.

When “Soldier Girl” hits the rafters, “When the Fool Becomes a King” echoes about with  lyrics about trees wanting to grow grow GROW, when a cover of “Pinball Wizard” makes an appearance, when “Light & Day/Reach for the Sun” makes us all punch the air and when Tim takes us through a nice little singsong to end with “The Championship”…it’s JUST. SO. MUCH. FUN.

Polyphonic Spree, I do not mind drinking your Kool Aid. \m/

Musician, video-maker and band friend Adam Harding was there to shoot it, Lou handwrote the titles, and voila, here’s a video from this special performance…freshly uploaded at Lou’s house LAST NIGHT.

Here’s eight tracks from the most excellent Weed Forestin’ album, which Pitchfork recently anointed with an 8.2 rating. Weed Forestin’, it must be said, really is a special album. Go buy it. Watch the majesty here:

In other, ridiculously exciting news for indie rock fans the universe over, Sebadoh have been recording their first new music in 14 years. [Insert Kermit-like arm-waving yelling here.]

Lou, Jason Loewenstein and drummer Bob D’Amico converged last week at Lou’s rehearsal space in Glendale and house in Silverlake, and began to hash out the basics of eleven songs, at Warp Factor Woah This is Going Awesomely Speed.

I’ve been talking to the band throughout the week and without giving anything away, can say that there’s an enormity of exciting things coming down the pipeline. Not the least of which is new Sebadoh music – something I think a lot of us weren’t sure we’d ever see happen again.

On Friday, Lou described the time as one of the most creatively fulfilling weeks in his life. He’s excited about the songs, excited about how well the collaborating has been going. “I can’t tell you how great this week has been,” he wrote. “Actually, I just did.”

Sebadoh will reconvene  in May following Lou’s solo acoustic tour of Australia, to continue work on the new album. Stay tuned here, as always,  for more details on when/where/how etc.

For those of you not following on Twitter (@RealSeBADoh, @TheLouBarlow, @J_Loewenstein), or at Jakerock.com, herewith a roundup of the recording from Lou and Jason…click on the links to see pics that Jason’s taken along the way.

• Lou: i just realized it’s been 14 , count ‘em, years since sebadoh recorded an album..we start a new one tomorrow..
• Jason: First sebadoh recording session in 13 years begins today! Well.. for me and Bob it does. Me, Bob and the Jakerock Mobile Recording Unit are headed to los angeles to record in lou’s rehearsal spot for the next 10 days… Good times!
• Lou: sebadoh LP day 1:wife and kids airport@4am,set up studio @10, sick bob clinic@1,mudrock’s 4 gear@2 (tnx!), computer
  fucks up@7-no music tday
• Jason: Band Meeting! Discussing a very hands on approach to the release of the recordings now in progress….
• Jason: Day two of tracking / learning lou’s tunes… tech problems first day… now have basics for one song, learning #2…
• Lou: sebadoh new LP day 2 : jake’s presonus fp10 computer recording interface boxes aren’t talking to each other.. help….@ 10 dreaded Guitar Center run t remedy puter prob,@ 1 prob solved!@ 7 my song #1 in place! @8 bob makes delicious dinner
• Lou: sebadoh LP day 3: atwater farmers mkt for papusas,song #2 done by 3, do #1 again-tuned to D#+slower- jason intros #3, epic drop C-done by 6 momentum gained , jason intros #4 @ 6, then across the yard for a Thai New Year feast with @indiegodess
• Jason: Sebadoh recording, day four. We think we have basic tracks for three songs now, and at this pace there should be two more today.  We have benefitted greatly from having toured a bunch last year. Pretty darn efficient, and also we are getting a very “human” vibe. Not going robotic with any aspect. Sounds like much earlier times in the band.
• Lou: sebadoh LP day 4: jake’s #4 is loose math rock but for his soulful vox , Rush is referenced.. my #5 is heavy strumming and pounding toms..#5 finished by 5..then work on my #6..Rush loving bandmates puzzle over -my- odd timing hah! work till 9 then wine
• Jason: Song 5 (lou #3) basics done!
• Jason: Sebadoh day five… good morning rockers! Heading back to the studio… song six was @ 95% when we left last night,  so should get it pretty quick.
• Lou: sebadoh LP day 5: finish my 50’s song #6 jake’s song ‘can’t live without my drugs’ #7 ironic cause this is the first ever sober seb record…#7 killed #8 my flimsiest song idea yet,takes shape in an hour w/ bob and jakes attention-feels miraculous
• Jason: Sebadoh recording session… song #7 basics done! Song #3 from jake
• Lou (to another on Twitter): it’s good that we sober, believe me.. drugs have narrow benefits, best left to the young and healthy who can sustain damage
  
• Lou: sebadoh record day 6:confusing armenian xperience 4 blunch #8 readdressed + done,#9 old jakerock song done , my bass part sucks-fix later
• [BSR note: Lou to me on Twitter: a word for an unofficial brunch @BackstageRider breakfast/lunch BLUNCH!! what people who don't have to get up early eat everyday]
• Jason: Sebadoh recording … day six… backing up song #8! Lou tune. In 6/8!
• Jason: Sebadoh recording… day 7...Left the studio last night with song 10 @90% ready. From today onward Lou’s busy schedule is going to make for some short working hours. I am going to go  find a guru.
• Lou: sebadoh record day 7: hungover from night 6 wineage, retry #10 why are the simplest songs the hardest? gotta get the ‘feel’ right that’s why…we get the feel for #10 at 2 pm ..then we stop so i can practice for my solo show that night at the cemetary
• [BSR note: Jason and Bob go to the comedy/gig... and Jason says he was "proud to know Lou" after seeing him perform solo.]
• Jason: Sebadoh recording: song 10 (jake) in the can. Bob is the man.
• Lou: sebadoh LP day 8: start #11, my only song with a title: ‘let it out’ , it’s quiet, brushes on plastic chair percussion , typical ‘me’ song…jason and bob lock the #11 rhythm/bass down- i shop for easter, wife and kids return today, gotta clean the house.
• Lou: sebadoh LP day 10: we took day 9 off so i could prepare for family arrival , we’re off till session 2 in late may..11 ‘basics’ in the can’

Soon Bob and Jason return to Brooklyn, Lou prepares to fly off to Oz…but next month, oh, next month, Sebadoh starts this new music recording thing all over again. And for that, we’re all thankful. \m/

Mike Doughty isn’t the only one who can write about his past.

In 1996, a lot of my diaries included references to the guy that just went by the name Doughty. We used to email a bit, and hang out. Hang out, smoke, be awkward. That was it, really. The first email I got from him – on an AOL account – a bunch of time after I’d  interviewed him following Soul Coughing’s debut, said this (among other things):

“I got your email a few months back and left it in the Soul Coughing box overnight, and when I returned, one of my no-doubt stoned bandmates had erased it. I was crushed…We just finished making another record– it’s gonna be called “Irresistable Bliss”– and I’m totally exhausted. We just finished the sequence a couple of days ago, and now we’re off again, doing the photos and artwork and beginning the dreaded rounds of interviews….I [also] bought a four-track, and have been locking myself away and recording all these weird little garage-rock songs that Soul Coughing has rejected over the years, maybe for a little indie-label solo project or something…”

Then, a few months later:

“Yikes, I’m in South Carolina — we’re in a bus now, we slept out of New York and woke up here. Very strange…Hope yer kool. Just wanted to tell you – dropped my New York apartment, being that I’ll be there for five cumulative minutes in the next three years. So this is the only known way I can communicate with the exterior world. Wonderful feeling of vertigo, I have.”

Then, in 1997:

“Thanks for the 90210 update. I’m back in the States but have slacked off in my prime time duties. We’re rehearsing in New York for a minute and a half, I’m drenched in stress.”

I dug these up to bring these up because Mike Doughty, on tour to support his last album Yes & Also Yes has also been touring his achievement of a memoir, The Book of Drugs. To be incredibly reductionist, it’s about the life of a musician in a band who hated and undermined him, whom he hates as a result, and how drugs became inexorably weaved into the fabric of his world. Go buy it.

So here we are, on the eve of Good Friday at a gig that BackstageRider.com (hey! That’s me!) was co-presenting, and Doughty’s preaching to a good and swoony crowd. He’s trying to explain just how headfucky being in Soul Coughing was, but he’s not being nasty. Just explanatory.

Some of his references to the Bass Player and the Sampler Player and the Drummer make me laugh because I’d met them all back then. And he’s right. The (Israeli) Drummer could NEVER REFER TO ANYONE WITHOUT SAYING “YO, G.” And the Sampler Player was kinda weird. And I knew the 135lb guy who was barely able to get through a set ‘cos of smoking and drugs. I remember him wheezing on stage in Buffalo – a show I’d bussed to get to, and we’d hung out aftewards; he gave me his book of poetry, Slanky. I remember him gasping for air on stage, looking like death. I like him better now. Alive, yunno?

But now he’s making us laugh, and awww, describing how his former bandmates used to pick on him and make him think he didn’t write the songs he did. The stories are almost unbelievable. But they are his. And at one point I literally almost walk on stage to hug the guy.  He talks about the drugs, about nodding off in therapy.  But it’s okay. This is kinda therapy for all of us. He’s making us smile, and it’s okay.

He’s talking about how “Na Na Nothing” was sort of co-written with Nikki Sixx from Mötley Crüe and Semisonic’s Dan Wilson. He’s shushing the drunk girls in the front (thank gods they weren’t mine…I warned all my friends not to talk, you gotta know this about a Doughty show), and he’s calling this the “Gratitude Tour”; the tour in which he can thank us all for being there for him. He restrings his guitar, reads out passages that are mostly funny – about taking E on stage with the Dave Matthews Tour and being dogpiled by 15-year-old girls at Madison Square Gardens.

He sings: Madeline and Nine, Busting Up a Starbucks, Day By Day By, I Hear the Bells (“You snooze, you lose/Well, I snost and lost”), I Just Want The Girl In the Blue Dress To Keep On Dancing, Telegenic Exes #2 (Astoria), Thank You Lord, For Sending Me the F Train, White Lexus, Your Misfortune, 27 Jennifers, Na Na Nothing, Russell, and introduces his cover of Mary J. Blige’s Real Love, by explaining that he stopped playing it after a critic in Nebraska slammed it. “But I now imagine him with Doritos powder all over his face, drinking a Dr. Pepper” and plays it, beautifully. And then he blasts out “Looking at the World From the Bottom of the Well” and all of us on anti-depressants nod knowingly.

After the show, he comes out to a surprise. A friend – Lizz, who sadly couldn’t make the show – Tracy fromVancouver’s The Cake Conspiracy and I arranged to have a cake made with the cover of Doughty’s book. The Cake of Drugs, as it were.

Why? Because putting it all out there needs reward. I tell myself this everyday (where’s my cake?). He comes out to sign books and his eyes light up at the site of this massive box with a thing with his name on it. As his track on his instrumental album Dubious Luxury goes: WHERE’S THE CAKE? I LIKE CAKE! GIMME THE CAKE!” Well, it’s here. At the Media Club, yo.

He’s pretty thrilled by the Book of Drugs cake. And he should be, the thing is giant. Fans take pics and we carve it up to share. Doughty signs stuff, then offers slices to folks. The city of Vancouver mainlines sugar, happily. It’s, yunno, kind of wonderful.

Yeah, putting it all out there deserves reward. The next night, in Portland, a friend of his brings cookies. The women of the world wanna feed Doughty, sometimes. It’s probably ‘cos we can’t go onstage and give him a hug. \m/

On February 24, 1991, I hung out with the Charlatans on their first-ever visit to Canada. It had preceded Blur’s arrival Stateside by 9 months, and the Charlies were big in Britpop, before the thing had a name and whilst we were all lookin’ in the direction of Madchester.

Likely mistaken for a groupie, (I’d had a habit of hanging around backstage doors), I was invited on the tourbus by the band’s roadies – Dave, Mark and Derrick – and we sat, chatted and drank red wine before I headed into a small, campus press conference at which the band looked excrutiatingly bored. Almost all bands did.

After the show – at which singer Tim Burgess replaced the lyrics in “Opportunity” of “Station to station/this sensation/a celebration” to “Sensation/Ejaculation/Oh masturbation”- I lounged backstage with the Charlies and other liggers.

I talked at length with bassist Martin Blunt, mugged with Tim, and bantered with the rest. I’m thankful I also had a chance to meet and chat with keyboardist Rob Collins that night. He died in a car crash five years later. For those of us who didn’t know him personally, Rob will forever been known for giving the Charlatans that trippy Hammond organ sound, and for that I am also thankful.

The Charlatans’ were one of my favourite bands of the 90s. “The Only One I Know” was one of my favourite songs. And I am a rock biography whore. Which is why the following excites me greatly:

On April 26, Tim Burgess releases his memoir, called “Telling Stories.”

I tracked Tim down via Twitter (where he and I chat on occasion – he loved my back tattoo by artist Pete Fowler. His a much more modest scrawl of the New Order “Ceremony” catalog number, FAC 33), and sorted this out. Herewith, Tim Burgess telling stories about his book:

Writing a memoir is one of the hardest things in the world, not least of which is that I imagine a lot of the time in the early days was a blur. What did you find the most challenging in putting together the book?

The challenge was to put the story across without it just sounding like a list of things that I’d done. I was thinking back to how I was at each stage of the band and before and what I wanted people to know about those times. I’ve seen some reviews and they’ve picked up on that, so I’m hoping I got it right and people will get a look at who I am. Surprisingly none of it’s a blur – it was all I’d ever wanted to do so I took it all in.

I was enjoying myself but I wasn’t doing it so that I could forget. Looking back, maybe I was a rock n’ roll explorer and these are my reports. Like scientific findings. I’m on to the next experiment now – it involves less riotous behaviour but it’s just as interesting. I’d read some really great books about music and I’m hoping Telling Stories would be looked at alongside some of those books.

What were the most painful, difficult and embarrassing parts to relive?

Nothing’s embarrassing – looking back over your past and thinking you can edit out some of it would change the story. There’s an interview that I used that was from when I was drinking quite a lot. It should have been a wake-up call, but I slept through the alarm. The difficult times of the band are well documented so they’ve always been talked about.

After Rob died, it was something we had to deal with privately but also in the public eye too. I’d find I’d be answering questions at a moment’s notice in an interview. It was a better process to do things at my own pace and speak to the other people in the band about their feelings.

But there was much to celebrate. What was the most joyful or fulfilling aspect of the experience?

Without wanting to sound like I’m showing off, I think the achievements of the band are the central part of the story. And they are something we’re all really proud of – the most fulfilling aspect of the book was that I was working with a publisher like Penguin and they liked what I was writing. I could count myself as an author – I’d be there in a bookshop alongside some writers I loved. It was similar to the feeling of when we first made a record and it’d be in the same shop as The Clash.

Your visit to North America preceded Blur’s …does it ever bug you that Oas-blur get most of the credit for Britpop?

We always just did our thing, and from time to time a pigeonhole would swing by that captured the times and a few of them we got stuffed into – whether Madchester or Britpop, we never aimed for either.

We knew we worked in the same world as Oasis and Blur, but it’s less of a competition than people may imagine. It’s cool when there’s an interest in similar bands. Magazines and TV people come looking for you and you get attention from countries you might not have been to before.

What’s next for you, the Charlies and can we expect you back this side of the planet?

No plans to be there at the moment – there some anniversary gigs where we’re playing Tellin Stories track by track in the UK. Two dates in Japan too. I’ve got a few shows around the book – doing some acoustic songs with Mark Collins, The Charlatans guitarist, and reading out some extracts. Chuck in the stuff with my label, O Genesis and it makes for a busy few months. Not really sure what’s happening after then.

But you did do a rather quite fab collab with Ladyhawke…any other stuffs on the radar of this sort and can you tell us a secret or give us a scoop?

Yeah, the track with Pip was something we’d worked on and got some friends to remix. We have some big plans for Record Store Day but can’t really tell you any secrets, I’m afraid. People can get me on twitter @Tim_Burgess – a few secrets and exclusives pop up on there from time to time. Today’s was a picture from when I was two – showing my early love of good jumpers and a good haircut. \m/

Telling Stories is published by Penguin Books and available at all hip bookstores (or, more likely, online) on April 26.