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| Title: | THE STORY OF THE BLUES |
| Notes: | Interview with Francis at a recording of the "Cannon And Ball" TV show |
| Year: | 1983 |
| Country: | UK |
| Publication: | Smash Hits |
| Author: | Tom Hibbert |
THE STORY OF THE BLUES
From flower power to non-stop timeless boogie, Status Quo have kept churning out the hits for 21 years. And that, as Tom Hibbert discovers, means an awful lot of denim and fried breakfasts.
It takes Francis Rossi a good four minutes - and a great deal of straining the tum muscles - to squeeze his frame into his tight blue jeans. Once he has completed the mammoth task, he celebrates by putting his fists on his hips, tossing back his long, straight locks, and booming operatically - a la comedian Richard Pryor - "I'm a MACHO MAN!" And now, suitably be de-denimed, Francis Rossi is prepared for Status Quo's appearance on ITV's Cannon And Ball TV show.
Soon, down in Studio One at London Weekend Television, Cannon and Ball are rehearsing their intro routine with the group. Onto the stage bounds little Tommy Ball with an obligatory "Rock on, Tommy!" Then, spying the group behind him, he says: "Oh 'ello!" "That's not the ELO!" quips his partner. "That's Status Quo!" At this point, Rick Parfitt is supposed to say something but he cannot remember what it is. "Rick's not much good at plays," comments Francis. "I'm even worse. That's why they gave him all the lines."
Status Quo's first hit single: "I wrote half of it while the wife was out shopping, and then finished it off in the bog."
A tea break is called to give Rick time to master his script and thus I'm afforded an opportunity to quiz Francis Rossi about the state of the nation and the Status Quo.
Cannon And Ball, Francis? So you've finally arrived! "Aye, son. This is the Big Time." Just a little joke, of course, as Status Quo have been a Big Time band almost forever and have notched up some 24 Top Twenty single and 14 Top Ten albums in Britain in a staggering 21 - count 'em! - years. It was back in 1962 that a cgroup of South London schoolboys, calling themselves The Spectres, got together to play beat music for fun and profit. The years passed in a blur of youth club dates, seasons at Butlins holiday camps and assorted grisly dates, until, in 1966, they were signed to Piccadilly Records who released their first single. The Spectres' "I (Who Have Nothing)", a version of a Shirley Bassey hit, makes Francis cringe to his day: "Oooh, it was awful! I just can't imagine what we were thinking of."
After three further flops and two name changes - to Traffic Jam and, finally, Status Quo - the group were just about ready to knock it all on the head and go and get some proper jobs when Francis wrote a song that was in perfect keeping with the flower-power/psychedelic pop spirit of 1968.
"By then, everything was supposed to be a bit freaky, maaan, with, like, a really deep meaning and so I wrote 'Pictures Of Matchstick Men'. There was this guitar sequence that Jimi Hendrix had which I liked and so I thought I'd try to re-write that. I wrote half of it while the wife was out shopping and when she came back, I finished it off in the bog. God knows what it was supposed to be about."
Promoted by the group sporting best kaftans from Carnaby Street and lacquered hair-dos with centre partings, "Pictures Of Matchstick Men", a swirling, stirring tale of yellow eyes and other nonsensical images, became a huge hit and made teen idols of Status Quo.
Psychedelic fashions didn't last long, however, and the band were soon sloshing back to grim obscurity, playing RAF bases and feeling generally rather miserable. But it was now that the new Quo style began to evolve. The kaftans and the satin strides were chucked in favour of denim and gym shoes, twee hippie harmonies made way for no-nonsense boogie and the group got their heads down to business - "It's a great thing to nod your head on stage," says Rossi.
In 1972, Status Quo were back in the charts with "Paper Plane" and they have never looked back. The Quo sound has stayed resolutely the same and has proved a perennial winner, although Rossi, himself, refutes the 'Quo Formula' theory. "People always says we've got this success formula," he complains. "As if we go into the studio and say, 'Right, get out the formula lads.' It doesn't work like that, you know."
Apart from never quite making it in America, Status Quo have little more to prove. They've become a national institution, appearing on Cannon And Ball TV shows and rubbing shoulders with royalty. Last year, at their 20th anniversary charity do in Birmingham, the group got to meet Prince Charles and (swoon) Princess Diana. How did Francis get along with Chuck?
"He's a smashing geezer, a regular ordinary bloke. He speaks a bit, you know, Hooray Henry, but I'm in awe of blokes like that, I really am. I mean, they're flying planes and
"Prince Charles? He's a smashing geezer, a regular ordinary bloke. He speaks a bit, you know, Hooray Henry, but I'm in awe of blokes like that."
captaining ships when they're 21 and that's a lot of noddle. That's like teaching them to be top jolly and so you've got to give them their due."
At least they don't have to cook their own breakfast, I protest.
"But they're missing out, aren't they? Cook your own breakfast and you know how to get it right. Otherwise people mess your eggs up and they go all snotty. I can't stand snotty eggs. At 9 everyday, I get downstairs and I pull the drawer out of the grill at the bottom of the cooker, put it on the top, get three bits of bacon, two sausages, two eggs and a tin of tomatoes on the go. I do like a serious drop of breakfast everyday."
Perhaps this is why it takes you so long to tuck yourself into your jeans, I suggest. This doesn't seem to go down very well and so we move swiftly along to modern pop and how the old-stager feels about sharing the charts with so many new faces.
"Well, Duran Duran are a very, very good looking bunch of lads and if they ever made a blinding record, I'd say so. But some of the names they come out with - Tears For Fears, I don't know what that's all about and, what is it, Men With No Hats? What's that? But it's the video thing that worries me. You look at someone's video and you think 'blimey! that's great!' But then you suddenly imagine the band going down to Sheffield Civic Hall and
"Depeche Mode? There's these four dum-dums stood there. Only one of them ever moves. I don't understand it."
trying to do all that atmosphere, maaan, on stage. I mean, I saw Depeche Mode in Ireland and on they come and there's these four dum-dums stood there - only one of them ever moves - and they've got a drum loop and a tape at the back and soon as it stops so do they. Whap! No time to talk to the crowd. I don't understand it. But then I'm getting on, ain't I..."
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