They’re back! And they’ve got a girl! In 1996 youthsome sensations Ash swept all before them with the zoomy teen thrills of 1977. Two years on, Nu-Clear Sounds promises extra melodies, extra guitars, extra pop flavours and extra female fingers. ”It reflects what we’re listening to, what we’re into and what we love”.
Playing four gigs in one day, old Mersey rockers who appear on rock n’ roll nostalgia documentaries will tell you, isn’t anything special. Why, they used to play for 36 hours straight back in Hamburg in the early-’60’s. All they needed was a crate of ale each to wash down those little ’sweeties’ the shady bar owner provided, and they could ’mach show’ for as long as you liked. Yet playing one gig each in England, Scotland, Northern Island and Wales within 24 hours isn’t a feat to be sniffed at. Practising for this madcap bash in a London rehearsal studio just a few days before lift-off, Ash seem quite chirpy about the whole thing: the Status Quo-style plane-trotting, they claim, is just their way of letting the world know that, with a new album in tow, they are still capable of rockin’ all over the UK. The world, and much of outer space, are next on the tour itinerary.
The Top 10 opus Nu-Clear Sounds sees Ash’s descriptive song title powers reach a new level. If you want epic melancholy, you can turn to “Low Ebb”. Neanderthal sledgehammer grunge call-and-response, anyone? Your needs are amply served on “Numbskull”. As for “Folk Song”, well, it’s not very folky, but it’s the closest they’re ever likely to get to it, and the lyrics do include “lying in the long, long grass…”. With album opener “Projects” and “Death Trip 21” in particular, Ash have provided the apocalyptic sonics suggested by the album title. In fact, it’d be fair to say that these days, Ash are more worried about the year 2525 than 1977.
The Ash story has moved a fair old lick since the mid-’90s when guitarist/singer Tim Wheeler, bassist Mark Hamilton and drummer Rick McMurray emerged as three lads from Northern Ireland ready to shake the music world. Incendiary singles like “Kung Fu” and “Girl From Mars” demonstrated an intoxicating blend of Black Sabbath riffage, punk fervour and natty tunes brimming with teen spirit. Press coverage dwelt on their youth - both Wheeler and Hamilton were fitting their A level courses around live commitments, while the band’s first album 1977 was named after the year they were born - and their unashamed desire to rock until they dropped. Their debut long-player topped the hit parade and was followed by 18 months of touring that cemented their popularity and took its physical and mental toll in almost equal measures.
Rather than retire to their beds for the rest of their lives when the tour finally ground to a halt, in a few months Ash were back by demand at festivals and thinking about writing the successor to 1977. This time, though, the boys decided that they’d benefit from an extra pair of hands on the journey to what was to become Nu-Clear Sounds. “It had been talked about for a long time, for years,” explains Tim Wheeler. ”We only started out as a three-piece because our mates either weren’t dedicated enough or good enough on guitar to be in a band… so last year we had some time off and we decided to do something about it. We didn’t want an audition thing where we’d get loads of people to jam with us and stuff. We just put the word out amongst friends.”
Wheeler was staying with a friend in London who knew Charlotte Hatherley, guitarist in indie hopefuls Nightnurse. “I heard a tape of their stuff and I could hear the guitar really standing out. A lot of the band’s music, it seemed to me, was based around her guitar playing. You could tell there was a great talent there. The only thing was, I didn’t think she’d leave her band. That was the real bummer, because I knew she would be perfect.” Wheeler and Hatherley demonstrate the tricky art of smiling and wincing simultaneously as they reminisce about the events that led to Ash’s expansion. “They asked me to come down and rehearse with them, just to see how it went,” recalls Hatherley. “We did “Petrol” and “Kung Fu” and that went alright. Then I got a tape of a song they were working on “A Life Less Ordinary” and that kind of swung it for me, because I thought it was great, so I did that - and by then I knew I was going to join.”
After she was officially confirmed as a full member - risking the wrath of thousands of teenage girls who dreamed nightly of spending their lives with the Belfast threesome - Hatherley’s initiation was a real baptism of fire: learning nearly 20 songs in three days for an imminent set of live dates. “It was nightmare”, Hatherley proclaims. ”It was great for short-term memory, though, because I had them bouncing round my head all the time. Mind you, straight after we finished the gigs, I forgot a good percentage of them— but luckily we didn’t play live for a while after that, so I had a chance to learn them all again.”
The recruitment of a fourth member wasn’t for astrological reasons or to make up the numbers for some top-secret tour bus bridge-playing habit - Ash badly needed to boost their live sound. “A big inspiration for us was the last tour we did a trio in the US with Weezer,” reveals Wheeler. “They’ve got two brilliant guitarists working together who produce some phenomenal stuff.” Hamilton: “Because Tim couldn’t do all the guitar parts and sing at the same time, what I used to do live was whack the distortion up on my bass to fill in the gaps whenever Tim was soloing.” “We’ve always had to compromise live,” Wheeler continues. “We’ve not been able to play a lot of the songs the way we’d have wanted. With Charlotte in the band, we can now do things properly.”
That being the case, TGM tentatively asks, why they didn’t just employ Hatherley as a touring guitarist rather than as a bona fide part of Ash? “We wanted something more than just a touring guitarist,” Wheeler protests. Hatherley agrees: “I wouldn’t have joined on that basis anyway,” she points out. “Coming from Nightnurse it was very much everyone together, and I wouldn’t have left them just to be a session guitarist, regardless of how well paid it was. But when I first met up with Ash they assured me that wasn’t the case, so I never worried about it.” “When we met Charlotte we knew that she could give so much more than that,” beams Wheeler. “She’s far too stylish to be just a second guitarist” Hatherley: “Tim, particularly, was really restricted before in having to do so much. With another guitar it’s less one-dimensional, and dynamically it’s so much better. Now we make a huge fucking noise!”
With Hatherley in the fold, all the foursome had to worry about was trying to outdo 1977. “A lot of pressure was onto us because the first album was really popular. We knew people were expecting something good,” acknowledges Wheeler. “We just got tired of what we’d done on 1977, that kind of bubblegum punk rock, like “Girl From Mars”. I think Tim wanted to get away from writing love song all the time,” adds Hamilton mischievously. “I think there’s only one on Nu-Clear Sounds - “I’m Gonna Fall” - and that’s not exactly lovey-dovey.”
By the band’s own admission much of 1977 was created in the studio under immense time pressure, something they badly wanted to avoid doing again - so before they hit Rockfield Studios again Ash locked themselves away in a farmhouse for a couple of months, coming up with 19 prospective songs, complete with backing tracks. “It was more about the band this time, just jamming together,” Wheeler says proudly. “Having Charlotte there meant we had more variety, and Mark came up with a lot of the music too. Having a lot of the work done before we went into the studio was a lot healthier than having to busk our way through, which is what we did before.” Hamilton: “We’re also much better musicians now. We did most of this album live, whereas on something like “Lose Control” on 1977 there was about 98 edits, all trying to get us to sound tight. Before 1977 we hadn’t done much touring, but after 18 months of playing every night or every other night you can’t help but get good - even if you don’t want to.”
“I suppose people will be going, ‘Oh, Ash are growing up.’ Aaargh!” screams Wheeler, banging his head on the table. “I think Ash are over all that teen band stuff” contends Hatherley. “I’m only 19, but I think that I’ve avoided all that because they had it for so long that even the media got bored of it.”
One area where Wheeler is happy to admit to the beneficial aspects of maturity is in his singing. “It used to be pretty shaky sometimes but because I didn’t have to worry about doing all the guitar parts this time, I could rally concentrate on my vocals. I’m 21 now, and at that age your voice starts to settle down. It’s good knowing that I can do justice to the songs we’re coming out with. I’ve also got a lot more confidence to try stuff. I used to feel so self-conscious about singing, but now I just don’t give a fuck.”
From all this talk of improvement, you could be forgiven for imagining that Ash were well down the road to prog-rockdom, but even the most cursory listen to Nu-Clear Sounds will bop that assumption on the head. While Ash have undergone a sonic boom, lifting them from a classy garage band to an outfit of truly kick-ass proportions, the construction of many of the songs has just got dumb and dumber. Opening single “Jesus Says, for example, needs only a two-chord verse and a four-chord chorus to come over like the even-more-drug-fuelled cousin of Velvet Underground’s “I’m Waiting For The Man”.
“On the last album there was a chord and key changes all over the shop,” Wheeler admits. “I used to try and be clever all the time. This time around we tried to keep it simple. “I’m Gonna Fall is just D and G, with an A thrown in there every now and again to make it more interesting. That’s why when Mark came in with “Jesus Says” I thought it was fantastic. It’s fucking great when you can come up with something that direct that really works.“
Eager to plead guilty to the charge of uncomplicated musical ideas, Hamilton reveals how he came up with the original riff on “Numbskull”. “I came up with that just by hitting Tim’s guitar when I was bored,” he giggles. “It was so stupid I forgot about it, but when we started writing songs for the album I showed it to the others… even though I didn’t think it’d make it onto the album.”
“The thing is when you write stupidly complicated stuff, it’s so hard to write songs over the top of it,” muses Hatherley. “When the chord structure is really basic, you can explore a lot more melodic possibilities. And there’s a lot more catchy fun to be had by all,” she adds with jovial sarcasm.
Wheeler, having given the subject some serious thought, makes one final disclosure. “What I did a lot of on this album is… well, say you’re in G, I’d use Bm-Am7-D7. I can get great melodies out of that little move. Actually,” he continues, stunned by a sudden realisation, “it’s on virtually every song. Oh, no… on the next album I’m definitely going to have to get away from that…”
Of course, eight extra fingers and two extra thumbs inevitably means that Nu-Clear Sounds shows the results of changing guitar roles. “I didn’t worry about it at all,” states Hamilton nonchalantly. “Most of the time I just think about what the bass and the drums are doing.”
“It wasn’t really a problem,” Hatherley agrees. “Basically, whoever came up with a guitar part or solo played it.” “A lot of the time I’m playing the rhythm when I’m singing, and Charlotte is playing more interesting stuff over that,” chips in Wheeler. “We didn’t want to duplicate each other, really. On “[I’m Gonna Fall](/lyrics im-gonna-fall/)”, my part’s ascending while Charlotte’s playing downward spiralling notes. We almost always got two guitar parts going that are totally independent of each other.”
Given Wheeler’s oft-declared love for Thin Lizzy, did he ever envisage that he and Hatherley forming a Gorham/Robertson-style combo for the late-’90s? “Oh God, no!” Wheeler gasps. “The duelling guitar thing was the tackiest thing about Thin Lizzy, and we haven’t gone for that. We’ve tried to wave them in and out in stead.”
“On “A Life Less Ordinary” we had both guitars climbing, but not copying each other,” explains Hatherley, “On “Projects”, you’ve got one guitar part in 4/4 but another riff in 6/4, so it keeps overlapping and then meeting up every couple of bares. And then there’s another guitar line that comes in and out at various intervals. It works really well.”
Forced into self-analysis of their own particular styles of guitar-playing, Wheeler reveals that he’s into “loads of stupid wah-wah soloing - Jim Williamson out of the Stooges kind of stuff - so the solos on “Projects”, “Numbskull” and “Fortune Teller” are more my gig. I love power chords and riffs, as well. AC/DC still rule!” “I suppose the fingerpicking stuff on songs like “Folk Song” is quite ‘me’ in a way,” muses Hatherley. “There’s a B-side on “Jesus Says” called “Taken Out”, which really sums up my guitar playing: this weird little bouzouki-type riff with loads of clashing notes.” Hatherley is keen to unmask Wheeler as being the real ‘rock’ soloist out of the two of them; Wheeler, to his credit, doesn’t even try to deny it. “I’ve learned quite a few cheesy rock tricks, but it’s all about knowing when to use the rock-wank stuff. Most of the time it isn’t cool. But let me tell you, on “Fortune Teller” it is cool. There’s a fair chance I’d have my foot on the monitors during that one if I didn’t have to work the wah-wah pedal.”
The Ash duo both cite Pixies’ Joey Santiago as someone who could use the hammer-ons and tapping without making you want to kill them, and Hatherley also namechecks Robert Fripp as someone worthy of her admiration; “His playing on David Bowie’s Scary Monsters was right out of control.” But while Wheeler points to a heady, if not frightening combination of Thin Lizzy’s Live and Dangerous and Iron Maiden as the prod that got him to take p his guitar, his London-born cohort claims no such direct influences. “I only took it up because of me, really,” she explains. “I wasn’t into really guitar-orientated music. It was just me wanting to make some noise, so I taught myself. When I joined my first band I got into people like Graham Coxon, Pixies and My Bloody Valentine.”
None of the aforementioned, however, explain where the schlock rockin’ beatfest of “Death Trip 21 came from - a first-ever recorded evidence of Ash adding dance to their aural palate the sees DJ Dick Kurtaine scrathin’ and cross-fading like a good ’un. Rather than shy away from the challenge of matching Kurtaine’s histrionics, each bandmember goes suitably ballistic alongside; the overwhelming result in an Ash tour de force that arrogantly invites the majority of bands who limply indulge in rock/dance crossover shenanigans to suck its lozenge.
“Well, I started out trying to be like Flea,” jokes Hamilton. “Maybe I should try and make my thumb get funky again… we tried the song out first with a rock beat and it didn’t really work; having DJ Dick do his stuff on it made it loads more powerful. We’ll probably do more stuff like that in the future.” “It was just a case of wigging out and making extreme noses,” nods Wheeler. “Rick’s such a good drummer that it didn’t throw us out at all.”
Kurtaine will be displaying his live prowess when the band start their full-blown tour schedule - and despite the arduous nature of the last mammoth bout of live dates, every Ash member’s eyes light up, Christmas tree-fashion, at the prospect of going out on the road.
“Once we started writing the album, we knew we could pull it off,” Wheeler declares. “We couldn’t have handled the prospect of playing these songs for the next couple of years knowing they weren’t as good - or better than - the ones we wrote before. We recorded an album that reflects what we’re listening to, what we’re into, and what we love.”
Hatherley: “I wouldn’t be doing it if [Nu-Clear Sounds](/releases albums/nu-clear-sounds/) didn’t stand up against [1977](/releases albums/1977/). But it does and my playing fits in without me having to change my style, so I can’t wait for it to start.”
“I’m well up for it,” Hamilton nods vigorously. “Just let me at them.”
Interview by John Callaghan