GODFATHERS of Pop - MARC ALMOND

In 2010, Marc Almond announced that Varieté was likely to be his final pop album. Five years later, he’s thankfully changed his mind with the “polished posh pop” of The Velvet Trail. Made with Rihanna/Lana Del Rey producer Chris Braide, it’s vintage Almond – but what persuaded the ex- Soft Cell man to break out the “satin, velvet and eyeliner” again? What made you decide to come back to making pop music?


After Varieté, my inspiration dissipated. I put a lot of myself into it and felt I’d said all I needed to say. I thought “How many more albums do I need to make?” It felt like the right time to get out. But I also felt I was moving away from the heart of what I like to do. Pop music is what I love most and, however classical or avant-garde a project is, I try to put rock and pop at the heart of it. I did an EP, The Dancing Marquis, with Tony Visconti last year, but I couldn’t afford to do a full album with  im! So I was thinking “What next?” when this great gift arrived in the shape of these songs from Chris Braide. Why did he send you the songs?

He’s a lifelong fan. Unbeknownst to me, Chris had been writing songs he thought I should sing, a mixture of elements from throughout my career. But, when my manager received the songs, he was told “Chris would love Marc to put lyrics to these songs for someone else to sing”. I was so upset. I thought “I love these songs, why can’t I sing them myself?” My attempts to write songs for other people have always been disastrous, anyway. I can only really write for my own world. Thankfully, Chris sent another email, saying that I should sing them if I want. Was this the first time you’d
swapped song ideas via email?

It was. At fi rst, I thought “Does this even count as making a record?” I’d write lyrics and record guide vocals, then two days later a recording would arrive that sounded as if it was from a million-dollar album. I could tell Chris knew my music. Songs like Winter Sun and Minotaur have an Eighties element that are very Soft Cell. Until now, I’d have bolted at that idea. Whenever anyone has tried to write songs like that for me, they always get it wrong and I think “You’re trying too hard to please me”. But these were executed so well, they were too good to ignore. So I thought I’d embrace that side of me, rather than trying to push it away. How hard is it to embrace your past without becoming a parody of your Eighties self?

It depends how you execute it. It’s easy for older artists to fi nd comfort in the persona of when you were most successful. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s like being an actor – you’re an entertainer playing the part that makes people happy. When I do nostalgic festivals like Rewind, I have to embrace that. I can’t go on stage thinking “I’m going to do one of my prog songs from The Tyburn Tree” and look dour in jeans. I have to celebrate my past, but that doesn’t mean I have to become a cliché of my Eighties image, wearing bangles and chicken bones round my neck! Part of me is an artist, part of me is an entertainer. I know when to bring those together and when to separate them.
Does it feel the right time to make this album for what the public want from you too?

I’ve given up wondering what the public want! It’s a very strange musical world now, where parents and kids listen to each other’s music. That shockability has gone – parents grew up buying Madonna albums, so they’ve seen it all before. I’m so lucky to have had success in the Eighties, when record companies were more maverick. If you had two flop albums, they’d go “Oh, we’ll do it on
the next one”. You were allowed to grow and explore, which is why a lot of artists from that period have lasted until now. Lyrically, The Velvet Trail is a very romantic album…

I have an almost childlike naivety towards romance. I try to retain that, to crush the cynic and nurture the romantic. Aside from the title track, which looks back at growing up in Southport, I wanted it to refl ect how I feel about life now. Today’s culture can be very mean. I feel the world is losing romance, so I try to work against that and look at where it can still be discovered. When I wrote for
Soft Cell, that was a more cynical side of me. Maybe that was from working with Dave Ball, I don’t know. But a cynic is a disillusioned romantic. Did writing songs as sexually charged as Pleasure’s Wherever You Are and Demon Lover solidify your views on romance?

Not really, it was more “This is how I am”. I had various people from my past in mind when I wrote Pleasure’s Wherever You Are and it’s such a “me” song – exploring mystical worlds and the twilight life. Chris and I wanted this album to be very velvet and satin, which is how a lot of people see me. He said “I can just see you in the Pleasure… video wearing loads of smoky eyeliner”. I found I was putting a lot of mythology in the songs. There’s a strong pagan feeling in there, because I’m basically a hippy at heart. At 13, I had long hair, burnt joss sticks and wore loon pants. I got into glam rock and punk, but I’ve rediscovered that hippy side now. I love nature and the pagan side of life. The most glam-rock song on the album, When The Comet Comes, is a duet with Beth Ditto…

Chris Braide was producing Beth at the same time and he played some of the songs to her. I’d met Beth, thought she was fantastic, but never in a million years would have it occurred to me to duet with her. Besides, when a duet is planned, invariably it’s a pain in the neck. I set out not to have any duets on this album, because other singers come in with their own agendas and commitments. But I
love it when they’re not contrived and they just happen, like this one. How did you and Chris get on?

Well, we decided early on that we weren’t going to actually speak, not even on the phone, until the  album was finished. We didn’t want to ruin the magic! So we were exchanging six emails a day, discovering a shared love of artists like T-Rex. Once the album was finished, Chris was due to be in
London, so we arranged to meet for tea at The Delauny restaurant. He walked through the door, and I said “Hang on, I know you!” Chris hadn’t told me, but he was one of the backing singers on
[Soft Cell’s 2002 reunion album] Cruelty Without Beauty! We’d often passed in the studio corridor, and Dave Ball was one of the people who taught Chris how to use a programmer. I knew Chris’ name
from somewhere, but I hadn’t made the connection because, even though I knew he’s really from Cheshire, I couldn’t stop thinking of him as this hotshot young LA producer type. We still email all the time and meet up when he’s in London. So, is The Velvet Trail your final pop album?

I don’t plan anymore. I can’t say “I’ll make a pop album next year”, because offers come along to push me in another direction. I’m getting enquiries now that might see me in the theatre. My long-term plan is that, because I turn 60 in 2017, I want to make that a celebration. I’ve provisionally booked to play the Royal Albert Hall on my birthday. I’d love to do an anthology of my favourite songs, because so much of my stuff has been overlooked. A singles compilation would be great. I’m fighting to get the rights back to some of those, and it’s slowly going my way. And I’d love to do a Soft Cell box-set. I’ve got loads of unheard concerts from our early days, even if
some of it’s on not-great-quality cassettes.