Interviews 2001: 2003: 2005

2001
Interviewer: Andy, when did you start writing songs?
Andy: I started writing poetry when I was a kid at school. Pretty awful most of it! Then in the last year of college I ran out of money and had to busk to stay afloat. So I learnt the usual busker songs and used to bash them out in the high street on Saturdays. And after a bit, while sat playing in my grotty, mould covered room, surrounded by my washing, I would stumble across a chord progression and then words would come out.
Do you think your poetry writing helped or hindered the move to songs?
Umm...helped I think, in so far as I was used to calling up the muse; sought of getting into a state of mind where words would come. On the other hand, when writing songs I’ve always concentrated on the rhythm of the music and allowed it to dictate the words. What I don’t like with some songwriters is that they will take good words and desperately try to shoehorn them into the music. If any criticism can be leveled at me as a player, I s’pose it would be that I’m a through and through rhythm man, and because of that, I tend to neglect the lead aspects of music making. But that’s because what I love is when the rhythm of the acoustic is right in there, and the words are playing the melody, perfectly in the groove. I just want to go along with that.
You finished the album ‘Hunting for fairies again’ recently. Are you pleased with the results?
Yeah, on the whole. I’m a really harsh critic, so I’m never completely happy with any of my recordings, but I think this is my best yet. I always want a live, edgy, real sound, and I think I got that.
It seems a mixture of studio, close mic’d songs, and raw recording.
Yeah there were some songs that just didn’t seem t fit the studio...
‘When Mary comes in’ and End of the evening’?
Yeah. I don’t know why. I tried them close mic’d, but it just didn’t seem to work. So as an experiment I was at home and just slapped a plate mic. on top of the guitar and played and sang straight to one track.
I think it works.
You’re too kind!
And now you’re well on the way with your second album, and that isn’t a studio album either?
No, it’s not. I‘ve got to admit that I don’t really enjoy the studio recording process. It’s too much like hard work for my liking! But I found that with a bit of care, recording with a plate mic. straight to minidisk got some really nice results without all the struggling, and with more atmosphere than you get in a studio.
But recording straight down with no overdubs is not the easiest way to record.
No, you couldn’t record all albums like that, and it might not be the kind of album to hit mainstream, but I seem to get better results and more enjoyment from recording this way.
Why the title ‘Eleven fifty-nine’?
Umm...Mike Plumbly of Isle of White Rock once called my music ‘after hours music, and most of the album was recorded at night, alone in other peoples houses. It has a sought of desperate feeling to it, so... it’s the minute before midnight - zero hour.
Right. So where do you get the inspiration for your songs?
Oh...don’t ask me that one (laughs). They just come out really. Very rarely will I sit down and try to hammer out something that’s on my mind. I don't find I get anything decent that way. I find the best lyrics come out if I let my subconscious voice say what’s on my mind. I mean, I get inspired by other peoples work, or what’s happening in my life, but if I say “right, I’m gonna write about that!” it’s usually crap.
Are there any old favourites on 11.59?
Errr...There’s a couple that people asked for like ‘Am I just wasting my time’ and ‘Dreams’, but actually, most of them are the newer gigged songs and some completely unheard ones.
In some ways I really pleased myself with this album, and in some ways it put itself together. I feel it’s the album I’ve always wanted to record and it’s come about partly by design and partly by it dictating itself. What I mean is that the recording process was organic. We would be staying in a house somewhere, and that night I would sit and play what I was in the mood for, and if it was right for the album, things would go ok. And if it wasn’t then I would keep cocking it up until I gave up on it!
So what nearly got on there but didn’t?
I really struggled to put ‘About this time of day’ and ‘Dead roses’ on because people had requested them, but I just couldn’t get ‘em. Which was a shame, ‘cause I wanted them on as well, but there you go. [both songs did in fact surrender, and make it onto the album in the end]
If you had to pick on song off each album as the highlights for you, what would they be?
Pfff...umm...On Hunting for fairies again, I think...’The butterfly room’ maybe. It nearly didn’t get o the album. I only tried it because I was fed up with struggling with something else and started playing it to break the tension. I had always loved it, but thought it too personal for anyone else to like. I was very surprised when I listened back. I think it really works.
And 11.59?
Umm...I think ‘World away’. It’s not a new song but I’ve never really gigged it. I think it sort of sums up the album - delicate, intense, and I think it sounds like a recording of a moment rather than just a song. When I first listened back to this songs I thought “this is what I want. This is the album I want to make”.
I look forward to hearing it.
Thanks. I hope you like it.
So what now?
Now I just want to get out and play. I’ve been showing my face around London as much as possible recently, and I want to start getting out and bashing it a bit.
Well good luck with that.
Thanks.

Top of page

August 2003.
Interviewer: So what have you been up to since we last spoke?
Andy: I’ve been busy, but it hasn’t been an easy time. I sort of got a bit fed up with it all, so I wrote a novel, started another, and then buried myself in recording for a time...
Hence the new single.
Yeah, a trip to Ireland, a new haircut (!) and a new single seemed to be the order of the day, so that’s what I did, and now we’re gearing up and doing a lot more gigs.
And this single is a studio recording?
Yeah, I’ve gone all out for something that radio might play. So I got bass player Dave Bulbeck in on a couple, and a cracking saxophonist [Deano Elson], and did the whole damned shebang.
A bit different from the last album.
Yes, but it’s still retained the feeling I’m always after. Recording 11:59 in the way that I did was, in a way, recording a year, and a way of life that I was living at the time. I’ve now been living in the same house for nearly a whole year, so it was time for a recording with a bit of solidity! Also, I’ve spent quite a few evenings at a pub in Rowlands Castle, that’s run by Herbie Armstrong [ex. Van Morrison band, and no stranger to the charts in his own right], who is not only one of the nicest people I’ve met, but who has also taught me a lot. So I think I’ve grown as a performer, and it was time to put it on a recording.
But not with new songs.
No, I felt that I needed to have a stab at a definitive version of some old favourites. The audience chose them. At least one of them I wouldn’t have included, but I let the people decide!
And so now you’re playing live with Dave and Deano as well?
Yes! The times they are a changing! I was and am happy playing solo; in fact, I think I still prefer playing that way. But the band came along so organically that I just had to go along with it. I stumbled across Dave at a jam session and after much deliberation, asked him to join, and that was it for a while. And then Deano came along and blew me away. Both of them are the best players I’ve come across, and are so sympathetic to what I’m doing, and how I play, that I’d be stupid not to be playing with them. It just adds a whole new dimension to gigs. And Dave plays the sexiest upright fretless electric you have ever heard...! It does me the world of good I’ll tell you.
And this looks like the future for you at the moment?
Yes, I’m really enjoying the way everything is sounding. I mean, I think that the world accepts bands much more than they do solo artists, but that has never been a good enough reason for me to put a band together and lose my independence; the band had to be the right one, and this is.
Do you have plans to add anyone else?
Umm...maybe a percussionist if the right one came along, but I’m just going to let it happen like it has with the other guys.
Well good luck with the gigs.
Thanks.

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2005
HALF-way through the gig, a drunk in the audience lurched up to Andy Comley, put his head close to the microphone and blurted through beery breath: “Your music’s rubbish!”

Calmly, Andy thanked the drinker for his view and carried on performing. But behind the brave face, the experience sent an arrow searing into the heart of Andy’s greatest love - singing his own songs.

It was the lowest point in Andy’s musical career and one that nearly put him out of the business for good.

“After that, I just stopped playing gigs. I lost confidence completely and wouldn’t play live,” he said.

“That night came in the middle of three gigs that were dire. I was playing my music to all the wrong people in all the wrong places.

“It was an awful time and I really thought it was the end of live performances for me. It was heartbreaking because playing my music is all I ever wanted to do.”

But Andy is a survivor...in every respect.

He’s learned outdoor survival skills from Ray Mears, the best in the bush craft business. He’s survived the musicians’ school of hard knocks - pub venues where the locals are interested in boozing, brawling and little else.

And he’s spent years skint - once budgeting for just £3 a day to get himself through to the end of the week.

But now, three years after being persuaded back onto the live stage, and with an energetic new promoter in East Hampshire-based Iain Martin, he’s beginning to carve a name for himself at rock, folk and blues venues across the south.

“I was becoming a bit disillusioned and couldn’t see how I could progress onto the next level away from grotty pubs. Luckily, I met Iain and we’ve been getting better gigs at better venues and things are really starting to happen,” Andy said.

“We’re getting to people who like music and want to hear something different, something unusual. We’re finally meeting the sort of people who like my kind of music, who want to hear me and buy my CDs.”

Recent progress has been rapid for Hampshire born and bred Andy, 35, who lives with his partner Andrea and their friendly terrier Dougie at Owslebury near Winchester.

Eight months ago he was playing just one gig a month in small pub venues. Now he’s playing six a month, all in reputable music venues. He’s changing day jobs to spend more time on music, putting the finishing touches to a live album recorded at The Traders in Petersfield and half way through recording his next album.

There are plans for a nation wide tour supporting Cambridge-based alternate country band the-low-country and autumn gigs at two major clubs in London for up and coming singer-songwriters.

Andy’s songs are soulful ballads - thoughtful, romantic and moving - a mix of folk and blues. He’s been likened to David Gray but his style is individual and independent - much like the man himself.

Most gigs are solo but he also appears as a duo with good friend Dave Bulbeck on upright bass. Occasionally the band becomes a trio with the addition of another friend, Deano Elson on sax.

Andy has always been surrounded by music. Mother was a country music fan - “we always sang along in the car to the good country stuff before it became all spangly” - and father sang in a choir.

He was constantly plugged in to music as a teenager but had no opportunity to learn to play an instrument.

“I understood music well even if I didn’t know the technical stuff to put it on paper. Listening was my education in music,” he said.

Pink Floyd and Bruce Springstein were early influences and while his friends bought the latest chart hits Andy waded through the bargain buckets searching for the blues.

Poetry produced from late-teen experiences led to the desire to learn the guitar while at college in Farnham.

“It took me years to afford my own guitar. Dad borrowed one for me and I took a few lessons but they confused me even more so I decided to teach myself.

“I learned a few chords and the strum patterns of a few songs. I played them as I thought they ought to be played.

“I never learned any musical theory which still affects me today when I’m writing songs. I never know what the chords are - I just show the band and somebody will work them out and tell everyone else.”

Andy studied health and fitness at college as a mature student. He needed cash but chose busking in Aldershot rather than getting a job.

His first song was written at a friend’s flat in Southsea. He says it was poor but song writing felt the most natural thing to do and the floodgates opened.

“Something began to happen - something subconscious started chucking these songs out and I had a really good two years’ writing. It was so easy then.

“Some of the songs from then are still in my set list for gigs now - I can’t have been that good on the guitar but those songs have stood the test of time.”

His first live performance was at a pub when friends pushed him up on stage. He enjoyed the experience and, with a friend acting as manager, set out to build a career in music.

“Neither of us knew what we were doing. We must have looked a right couple of turnips going into pubs acting like hard-bitten musicians.

“But it’s a really hard road to follow - playing pubs where no-one wants to listen to your music. All they want are covers of famous stuff.

“I used to play grotty pubs all the time. Nobody knew my songs, or liked them and they’d just stand there - it was all a bit unnerving really.

“I played one pub where no-one clapped for three hours. At the end, one man came up and said my music was good but they wanted to sing along to well-known songs.”

He tried the record contract route but discovered that, too, was a thankless task. He also discovered that as a twenty-something he was considered over the hill by an industry obsessed with youth.

“I met loads of bored people who, without hearing my music, told me I was too old. They had no idea whether I was any good or not, just that I was over 18!

“If I can get my career going in the right direction they’ll perhaps be keen to talk to me and I can negotiate more than one per cent of one per cent.

“I always wanted to be an independent singer-songwriter anyway - the sort that exist happily in America not getting ripped off by a record company.”

Over the years Andy has produced about 100 songs but his organic writing style leaves him slightly confused about how it all happens.

“I just play the guitar until something happens, something sounds really nice. Then I keep playing it until it suggests words and then the words come out. It’s all a bit strange really.

“I look back years later and wonder where the heck did that song come from? If I sit down to actually try to write a song it comes out really badly.

“When it goes well, it is an incredible experience. I really enjoy that spark of creativity but the mood has got to be right. There doesn’t appear to be any sequence of events or anything - it either happens or it doesn’t.

“But I am my own harshest critic. If a song makes it to the final stages of being written then it’s going to be good. I don’t finish bad songs.”

His current day job - helping erect huge oak garden structures - has given him more money than he has had in a long time. But he’s planning a shorter working week and a job indoors.

The change will put him in a cleaner environment and give him more time to devote to music, writing songs and playing live.

“Places where machines can cut off fingers and there’s dust and noise are not great for musicians.

“The hours are murderous and my gigs have suffered. The voice is a delicate thing and I have struggled at times with vocals at gigs.

“With Iain taking a lot of the organisational stuff off my shoulders I can concentrate on what I love doing best - writing and playing music.”

Away from music Andy loves the big outdoors. He learned outdoor survival skills so that he could live on his wits if his money ran out while travelling after college. That knowledge has been honed under the guidance of survival expert Ray Mears.

“His courses were fantastic. You learn so much about yourself when it is just you, four days on a Scottish moor, a knife and Billy can,” he said.

“It was really hard but it takes your brain off for a few days. Sitting by a camp fire is my place to be.”

The way with words also extends to one and half, so far unpublished novels, both comedies.

“I just love mucking around with words and seeing what comes out - it’s great fun. But the intensity of the last few months has stopped me writing - I must get back into it and get that second novel finished.”

Andy’s next aim is to crack the top music venues in Hampshire. He’s already supported other artists at The Wedgwood Rooms in Southsea and the Joiners at Southampton and now wants to headline at them.

“We’ve made a real step change in the last few months - better venues, better gigs and better audiences.

“We’re coming across people higher up the food chain and they like what I play and are saying ‘come on in’.

“It’s never been my aim to do the Mick Jagger thing with all that celebrity stuff. I’d love to have the status of someone like Irish folk singer Christy Moore and pack out decent-sized theatres.

“I want to play songs and live them with the audience. I want the career of the artist not the famous person."

Copyright: Bernie Saunders, September 2004