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Davey MacManus in Parkway |
The Crimean roar
PREVIEW THE CRIMEA
Enterprise
DAVEY MacManus of Camden band The Crimea is the real thing.
Not the falling out of Bungalow 8, hanging off Peaches Geldof’s arm real thing, but the spending three days writing one lyric, working dead-end jobs while he makes his masterpiece real thing.
He’s not short of industry friends – from his sister, Radio 1 DJ Annie Mac, to Gary Lightbody of Snowpatrol – but he’s no lag. From the highs of his first band The Crocketts being signed, he’s been through the lows of obscurity and then up again when they were flown to LA by Warner. Signed on the spot, they were dropped four years later after releasing just one album. Then he became the first artist to come up with the idea to give away an album for free. Sure, Prince and REM did it later, but The Crimea were first. Secrets of the Witching Hour has so far been downloaded by more than 80,000 fans, although with downloads being shared that figure is much higher.
But it’s his next album, Kiss Chase to the Death, that is getting him excited now. To promote it, he is set to do a four-day residency, Starship Enterprise, at The Enterprise in Chalk Farm every two weeks. The first one is coming up on Friday May 30.
It’s hard not to get caught up in Davey’s enthusiasm, which explains why, when he bumped into the late John Peel while sweeping the streets of Westminster in 2002, he got the legendary DJ to take his record and play it on air.
But in truth it’s his mind-numbing jobs that drive him onwards.
Recently working in a factory in Hackney, he says it gave him all the motivation he needed to write his new album in just three months. “You try four months’ working in a fibreglass factory,” he laughs, “not having any skill in your life. I wanted to be a nurse but the only thing I was ever any good at was music.” But ask him why, as a 31-year-old, he puts up with living so hand to mouth, and he’ll tell you it’s the music.
Of his third album, he says: “I just hope it keeps me out of the fibreglass factory for a while. My first tour was with Shane McGowan and it blew my mind. I want to keep blowing my mind.”
Gary Lightbody telling Davey that Kiss Chase has changed the way he wants to make music shouldn’t be what impresses you – listening to it should. And while most stars are jumping around shouting “look at me”, he has a different prospect altogether.
“I hate the me, me, me side of the job, I just want to make a living out of it,” he says gloomily. “I’ve been living on £100 my whole life. I want a living and I want to be respected.”
So what was the line he spent three days writing? “From dusk ’til dawn you count along / the speaking clock on speakerphone / you can’t live on lucky strike and lucky strike alone / you can’t play scissor paper stone on your own.”
“No one else will ever put those words together,” he laughs, finally pleased with himself.
Later on, we walk past a guy in the street who drops some money.
Davey bends down to pick it up, reaching for 1p. “Oh don’t worry about that,” the man says, going for the pounds. “Oh no! That could be the most important one,” Davey tells him. You never know.
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