Interview with Hot Press, July 2004
27th of July 2004, 6:29 am
Ye gods! The Vichy Government, the keyboard duo with songs like 'The Reichstag Is On Fire' and 'Oliver Cromwell In Weimar Berlin', are in mortal danger of becoming popular, warns Colin Carberry.
Jamie Manners is talking about 'Rubbish', the rollicking Devoto-indebted pop diatribe chosen to launch Anglo-Nordy keyboard duo The Vichy Government into the public domain. "The opening line is 'welcome to the end of history'," he smiles. "Which -for a debut single- isn't a bad way of introducing yourself."
We have come to expect certain standards of misbehaviour from The Vichy Government in the year or two since they first came to our attention. From songs like 'Orange Disorder' and 'Make Love To The Camera', through a host of inspiringly shambolic live appearances- where audiences have found themselves pelted either by lyrical invective or paperback copies of Tristram Shandy- Andrew Chilton and Jamie Manners have made it quite clear that they haven't got involved in this business to brush up on their etiquette (ergo: their appraisal of recent tour mates the Scissor Sisters as "fraudulent cunts who probably have wives and kids").
How strange then to discover that despite this method of conduct, the Vichy regime has started to attract allegiance from the NME (courtesy of their inclusion on Angular Records' 'The New Cross' compilation), Rolling Stone (Andrew: "They thought we were 'way cool'. We're not sure if it was Beavis or Butthead who wrote that review") and even Mixmag (Jamie: "They liked it because it had a drum machine on it. I'd never read it before. It's a hundred pages of Yorkshire tarts running around with their shirts off. However, tarts are allowed to like us too.").
With their aforementioned debut single due out presently on Fosse 8, and a possible U.S. release on the cards for (gulp) 'The Reichstag Is On Fire', a horrifying prospect has suddenly loomed into view: could it really be true, are The Vichy Government in danger of becoming popular? "I think it's more the case that popularity is in danger of encroaching upon us," says keyboardist Andrew. "It has no idea of the peril that lies ahead."
To those of you out there, reclining sagely at this point, remembering the ghosts of mouthy tyro-tykes past, I plead indulgence. It's true that the band's distinctive mixture of keyboard noises and declamatory, spoken-word vocals have as much chance of gaining mass acclaim as a gay candidate for Lord Mayor of Belfast.
However, a batch of new material that finds Jamie's lyrical conceits and Andrew's musical accompaniment existing in hitherto unsuspected harmony would suggest that the boys are capable of offering more than mere rubber-necking entertainment.
"You could argue that with the first few songs, what powered us was Jamie's rage and my revolt against pop music" Andrew explains. "Since we've got that out of our system, it's almost as if we've been trying to explore what really interests us; Jamie has been constructing narratives with believable characters, I've tried to write more recognisably pop structures. We're trying to find ways in which the two don't seem like an incongruous match."
"You can't keep on repeating yourself," adds Jamie. 'Orange Disorder' and 'The Protestant Work Ethic' - I think they were very much the sound of floodgates being opened. Once you've done something as extreme as that, you can't really keep on doing it. The new songs are attempts to tell stories and imagine interesting situations."
Like, for example, 'The Loneliest Man In Ancient Rome' in which Jamie -copping postures from both Edward Gibbon and Frankie Howerd- adopts the persona of Mannero, a satirical poet, who after bringing down the Emperor with his celebrated barbs, is elected as head of state in direct replacement. With predictably disastrous results for all concerned. "It's just being critical of yourself," Jamie notes. "That instinct to sit on the sidelines bitching."
Or equally compelling, 'Oliver Cromwell In Weimar Berlin' -where the original 'No Fun' roundhead finds himself (sympathetically rendered, I must add) in the middle of a bacchanalian, metrosexual, melting pot. Jamie: "If you live in London, you go to clubs a lot and you are confronted with things that a quasi-puritan upbringing in Belfast doesn't really prepare you for. The fact that you have had these rigid notions forced into you- even if you grow up to disagree with them strongly- they do stay with you, impact on you."
We await with interest the strange and enlightening connections made by this lot in the future. As for now, 'Rubbish' is due out in August. This is one government worthy of your support.
We have come to expect certain standards of misbehaviour from The Vichy Government in the year or two since they first came to our attention. From songs like 'Orange Disorder' and 'Make Love To The Camera', through a host of inspiringly shambolic live appearances- where audiences have found themselves pelted either by lyrical invective or paperback copies of Tristram Shandy- Andrew Chilton and Jamie Manners have made it quite clear that they haven't got involved in this business to brush up on their etiquette (ergo: their appraisal of recent tour mates the Scissor Sisters as "fraudulent cunts who probably have wives and kids").
How strange then to discover that despite this method of conduct, the Vichy regime has started to attract allegiance from the NME (courtesy of their inclusion on Angular Records' 'The New Cross' compilation), Rolling Stone (Andrew: "They thought we were 'way cool'. We're not sure if it was Beavis or Butthead who wrote that review") and even Mixmag (Jamie: "They liked it because it had a drum machine on it. I'd never read it before. It's a hundred pages of Yorkshire tarts running around with their shirts off. However, tarts are allowed to like us too.").
With their aforementioned debut single due out presently on Fosse 8, and a possible U.S. release on the cards for (gulp) 'The Reichstag Is On Fire', a horrifying prospect has suddenly loomed into view: could it really be true, are The Vichy Government in danger of becoming popular? "I think it's more the case that popularity is in danger of encroaching upon us," says keyboardist Andrew. "It has no idea of the peril that lies ahead."
To those of you out there, reclining sagely at this point, remembering the ghosts of mouthy tyro-tykes past, I plead indulgence. It's true that the band's distinctive mixture of keyboard noises and declamatory, spoken-word vocals have as much chance of gaining mass acclaim as a gay candidate for Lord Mayor of Belfast.
However, a batch of new material that finds Jamie's lyrical conceits and Andrew's musical accompaniment existing in hitherto unsuspected harmony would suggest that the boys are capable of offering more than mere rubber-necking entertainment.
"You could argue that with the first few songs, what powered us was Jamie's rage and my revolt against pop music" Andrew explains. "Since we've got that out of our system, it's almost as if we've been trying to explore what really interests us; Jamie has been constructing narratives with believable characters, I've tried to write more recognisably pop structures. We're trying to find ways in which the two don't seem like an incongruous match."
"You can't keep on repeating yourself," adds Jamie. 'Orange Disorder' and 'The Protestant Work Ethic' - I think they were very much the sound of floodgates being opened. Once you've done something as extreme as that, you can't really keep on doing it. The new songs are attempts to tell stories and imagine interesting situations."
Like, for example, 'The Loneliest Man In Ancient Rome' in which Jamie -copping postures from both Edward Gibbon and Frankie Howerd- adopts the persona of Mannero, a satirical poet, who after bringing down the Emperor with his celebrated barbs, is elected as head of state in direct replacement. With predictably disastrous results for all concerned. "It's just being critical of yourself," Jamie notes. "That instinct to sit on the sidelines bitching."
Or equally compelling, 'Oliver Cromwell In Weimar Berlin' -where the original 'No Fun' roundhead finds himself (sympathetically rendered, I must add) in the middle of a bacchanalian, metrosexual, melting pot. Jamie: "If you live in London, you go to clubs a lot and you are confronted with things that a quasi-puritan upbringing in Belfast doesn't really prepare you for. The fact that you have had these rigid notions forced into you- even if you grow up to disagree with them strongly- they do stay with you, impact on you."
We await with interest the strange and enlightening connections made by this lot in the future. As for now, 'Rubbish' is due out in August. This is one government worthy of your support.