The Long Goodbye: Stephen Coates of The Real Tuesday Weld Interview

The polymathic Stephen Coates accounts for the belated full return and phased retirement of The Real Tuesday Weld

Having first met Stephen Coates on a riverside bench in London sometime way back in 2001, to interview him for this writer’s onetime print zine, it was apparent that an inquisitive adaptable talent was emerging from a creative cocoon and would be sustaining a distinctive presence for some time to come. Now, some twenty years on, Coates has plenty to show for himself, even if he has continued to operate primarily on self-made fringes.

His primary and most visible creative vehicle has been The Real Tuesday Weld, whose string of conceptually-bound albums have delved into romance of all flavours (2001’s When Cupid Meets Psyche), acted as soundtracks for the books of Glen Duncan (2002’s devilish mini-masterpiece I, Lucifer and 2011’s lusty lycanthropic The Last Werewolf) and affecting testaments to the passing of life and time (2007’s The London Book of the Dead). Across such releases, Coates has marshalled both small virtually-solo and bigger collaborator-infused incarnations of The Real Tuesday Weld through innovative antique-beat mash-ups, Gallic art-pop, cabaret jazz, smouldering yet often cheeky confessionals, evocative electro ambience and the tropes of cinematic scores for real and imaginary films, all crafted and threaded together with eccentric English wit and pan-European cultural cherry picking.

Outside of The Real Tuesday Weld, particularly over the last ten years, Coates has also spread his skills into broadcasting (notably via podcasting and BBC radio documentary-making), special live events (notably for exploring the secret history of Soviet-era Russian X-ray-cut ‘bone music’), soundtrack commissions and spearheading the archival curatorship of the Mikael Tariverdiev back catalogue for Western audiences through Earth Recordings. So much has this extra-curricular work taken over, it could understandably be assumed that The Real Tuesday Weld had been paused indefinitely, only to reappear fleetingly once a year with collectible self-released Christmas card EPs.

However, some ten years since the last official album release, Coates has belatedly fully rebooted The Real Tuesday Weld for one last long hurrah; to unfurl over three final long players (with side-wares), more multimedia visualisations and – Covid-permitting – on stage appearances. The first vinyl LP – entitled Blood – arrives imminently accompanied by the cassette/digital Tape Dust Memories (on his own Antique Beat enterprise), to collectively set the scene for this expansive final act. Encompassing sultry Histoire De Melody Nelson-meets-Oedipus Schmeopdius shapeshifting, swinging ensemble pieces (including a curveball cover of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face”), wordless filmic flurries, jazzy interludes, balmy beatscapes and – perhaps best all – Coates at his hushed intimate best (now with a little added late period Leonard Cohen charm).

Re-conferred with electronically – far from any outdoor seating this time around – Stephen Coates revealed nearly everything about this comeback-cum-piecemeal-retirement exercise.

How has the last twelve or so months of pandemical indoor-living impacted on you personally?

I feel slightly ashamed to say this, but it has suited me. I’m a natural introvert and apart from live events and going walking in the city I’m not a huge socialiser or pub hound, so in some ways I haven’t been so compromised by it. It did delay the release of this next record a bit because we were hoping to be able to play live when it came out (in the end we just decided to get on with it). But I have just got on with finishing a lot of things and can do a lot of what I do from anywhere, so we have been in Northern Scotland much of the time. That has been a blessing and a lot easier than for friends in the city and for those for whom this has been such a very tough and anxious time.

As announced by a special film briefing, you’re launching the new and very long overdue album Blood and its bonus sibling companion Tape Dust Memories, as the first part of a year or more of farewell ‘swansong series’ releases from The Real Tuesday Weld. Those not keeping up with your annual Christmas card EPs could perhaps be forgiven into thinking that The Real Tuesday Weld had already slipped away, given you haven’t released a proper album since 2011’s The Last Werewolf book soundtrack. Therefore, is this return as much a late rebirth as it is a last hurrah?

Ha, ha, yes – there has been some of that “Oh, are you still here?” But I have produced a lot of music. Apart from the Christmas EPs, there have been remixes and production for other people, film and documentary scores and albums of library music – and shows. But yes, in terms of full albums it has been a very long time. But then what is an album these days? It feels like we have gone back to the pre-1960 ways of just releasing single songs – that seems to be the way that many of us listen to music now right?

Outside of The Real Tuesday Weld it seems that you’ve been pretty occupied with podcasting, excavating the Mikael Tariverdiev back catalogue for Earth Recordings archive releases, your secret history of London tours/events and making programs about Soviet-era ‘bone music’ for the BBC and Ted Talks. Is there anything else I’ve missed?

Well, the X-Ray Audio Project about Soviet-era bone music has been a very big thing. As well as the BBC documentary there was a film, a book (and a new one to come this year), a touring exhibition which has gone all over the world, lots of live events, more research in Russia. I have a bimonthly radio show on counterculture and all the other stuff – plus just living – and trying to make a living.

Amongst all your extra-curricular activities, have you been working on The Real Tuesday Weld wares on and off during this last whole decade? What spurred you into finally bringing things to fruition to unleash in 2021 and a bit beyond?

Yes, I’ve always been writing Real Tuesday Weld material. But part of the issue has been wondering how to release it. Previously nearly every album has had a concept or narrative behind it and I wasn’t sure what that would be this time – until I realised that the narrative was the long goodbye.

How did you select the material that you’ve assembled to unveil across Blood and Tape Dust Memories? Your Bandcamp page describes the former as ‘a set of songs for Noir movies’. Essentially then, are these the most cinematic songs you’ve had stockpiled? Would it also be fair to say that they largely represent a sort of quasi-showcase reel of The Real Tuesday Weld’s most recognisable presentations; from the live-centric cabaret-tinged ensemble set-up with extra lead singers and live players through the solo electronic genre-cross-fertilisation incarnation to the solitary dark romantic balladeer mode?

Exactly – previously, each album has contained a collage of sounds and styles from noir through jazz through electronica to cinematic and indie and this time I decided rather than two to three albums like that I would separate out the genres more so each of these last three has a different feel or emphasis from the range of music we have done.

Picking through the guts of Blood itself, the first track that really sticks out is the imposing filmic space-funk instrumental “Too Much Too Soon”. As you’ve made no attempts to disguise your love for and the influence of Barry Adamson’s Oedipus Schmeopdius, is this your most unashamed homage to said 1995 album?

Oedipus Schmeopdius, as you know, was the record that made me realise it was possible to make a record. It’s still a touchstone and I still think it is a slightly unrecognised masterpiece. Barry has done an amazing amount of great work before and since of course, it’s just that I first heard that album at a time when I was getting going and it really spoke to me with its cabaret of sounds and songs with guest singers and spoken word interludes. Genius. And very groovy, funny, dark and atmospheric.

You’ve got to know Barry himself in recent years, haven’t you?

Yes, I have met him a couple of times and when we did an x-ray audio event at the British library a couple of years back, he very graciously agreed to appear and play three songs which we cut onto x-rays live as part of the evening’s events. He is a wonderful musician. Very, very stylish and very sweet in my experience.

The curious and deeply earwormy cover of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” – which also appeared in an earlier manifestation on one of your Christmas EPs – is the next thing that grabs me. What drew you into tackling it in a Django Reinhardt-meets-Detroit-techno arrangement? Was it an in-joke that took on a life of its own or is it the recognition that even super-high-gloss production numbers can conceal some very addictive and clever songcraft, as is similarly the case with your cover of ABBA’s “The Day Before You Came”, albeit from a more lyrically reserved angle?

“Poker Face” is an amazing song. It’s very clever lyrically and musically. I like Gaga. I think she’s amazing… it is true that there is something slightly perverse in doing covers of songs that might seem unlikely for The Real Tuesday Weld but that is what makes them interesting. An old favourite of ours was Tammy Wynette’s “Stand by Your Man” and I’m currently working on a cover of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene”.

Did you consider changing any of the more risqué lyrics and flipping the gender or would that have robbed all the essence or caused you issues with the songwriting publishers? Did it a take few vocal takes to get down “Cause I’m bluffin’ with my muffin” in particular?!

Hahaha. No, that was the easy bit. I like a bit of gender ambiguity as you know. I’ve written many songs for women – there are several on this record and on the records to come. I always wanted to be a woman – part of the time at least.

In similar but upended fashion, do you think that “Silicone”, with GG McEwen almost slipping into a rap, could be reverse engineered for someone like Lady Gaga to adopt as their own or perhaps Lily Allen given its more British lyrical references?

Yes please! I’d probably cut off my little finger to have Gaga cover one of my songs.

“What Happens Next” sounds like twilight years Leonard Cohen in a once hip Parisian cocktail bar for the most part, aside from the vocal break that is akin to a tripping-out Syd Barrett and Richard Wright underpinned by Tom Waits. What went into the alchemy there?

What a great combination of references. As I am a massive Syd Barrett and Tom Waits fan, I will take that. You didn’t mention Gainsbourg though and really that is me imagining myself as Gainsbourg. It is meant to be a little noir movie scene where we don’t see what happened before but are left wanting to know what happens next.

“The Floating Man” and “Skeletons in Waiting” are other favourites for me, with even stronger hints of Leonard Cohen at his gruffest but most lushly arranged. Have you become a fan of late?

I was never particularly a fan until I saw Nick Broomfield’s recent documentary about Cohen and his one-time muse Marianne (the music for which was done by the way by the wonderful Nick Laird-Clowes of The Dream Academy who I’ve got to know a bit recently too). I think I’ve been a bit put off Cohen by the fact that every one and his dog covered “Hallelujah”. I mean the Jeff Buckley version, which of course was the one that elevated that song into a global phenomenon is totally transcendental, but it’s kind of been cheesed out of the picture by people doing it on awful talent shows. I also found Leonard Cohen songs a bit too worthy until I saw that documentary and it woke me up to him. But he was not particularly an influence on my singing – not like Gainsbourg or Paddy McAloon.

Moving over to Tape Dust Memories, there are a few ‘should-have-been-on-the-main-album’ moments for sure. Is the opening instrumental “A Voice Out Over the Ocean” an affectionate amalgamated nod to some of your favourite soundtrack composers, from the Morricone cowboy score foot stomps upwards?

You got it. I love Morricone, and of course Tariverdiev and John Barry, so there’s a bit of them there, I hope.

“One More Chance” finds GG McEwen taking the lead on a track you first recorded on I, Lucifer and also includes a cheeky bit of Vic Flick’s Bond theme guitar work. Is this that a version that evolved from your live shows?

Absolutely. The version on I, Lucifer with Pinkie Maclure singing is a very slow jazz ballad. For some reason it just didn’t work live until it evolved into this more Latin groovy thing that became a favourite at shows. And when we came back off tour we recorded it with GG and I loved it so much that I wanted to put it out here. Because part of this process of ending is also to include everyone who has worked with us over the years.

The wonderfully woody and twinkling “Miles” feels like a joyous homage to Tariverdiev’s jazz instrumental detours, which you also recently helped anthologise for Earth Recordings. Did he inspire this recording?

I’ve been very inspired by the music of Mikael Tariverdiev. I first heard it in a café in Moscow one winter and it moved me so much that I knew I had to bring it to the West somehow – and we did that, over five years and six albums on vinyl with Earth recordings bless them. It’s such beautiful music. So yes, I guess with this track and also more generally.

The Real Tuesday Weld’s cover of Mikael Tariverdiev’s “I Asked The Ash Tree”

Whilst we’re on the subject of Tariverdiev, do you still more have archival releases in the works?

We have now released much of his film music. There is a lot of orchestral music too but I’m not quite sure how to do that as yet because it is not my area.

What have you learned and enjoyed the most from being his Western world curator?

One of the things I learned is that there was a lot of prejudice against Soviet music in the West. Apart from the great classical composers like Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky, Shostakovich etc, it seemed that Soviet composers and film composers in particular were not taken seriously unless they were associated with dissident or fringe work. So, for example Edouard Artemyev was given respect because of his work with Tarkovsky but Tariverdiev who wrote the scores for some of the most famous and popular modern Soviet films was ignored. The idea that no good culture apart from dissident culture was made in the Soviet Union is a hangover from the Cold War I think. It’s just not true. Tariverdiev proved that and when people have heard it, it has often been like a revelation.

“Tin Shack Motel” is perhaps your most floor-filling electronic number to date. What went into that one?

I’ve always had a soft spot for the electronic floor filler! There was “Love Lust and Money” [on] The Last Werewolf for instance. I love bands like The Blue Nile, Radiohead or Tindersticks who make these albums that are emotionally and stylistically completely consistent all the way through but I’ve never been able to do that. I like a cabaret, a buffet, a collage – like Oedipus.

If these two albums taken together are the first of three long waves goodbye, what can we expect on the next two?

Dreams, the next one is a set of cinematic electronica/bucolica songs that came out of actual dreams in some way – either the lyric or the melody. There is an unusual cover version on there too but I will save that up to tell you about next time! The last album Bone is a return to the crackly, creaky, antique beat old-fashioned sound that started this whole thing off – kind of like going full circle to complete things.

Artwork and packaging wise you’ve already gone for quite an elaborate approach for Blood and Tape Dust Memories, with the latter arriving as a cassette in a – hopefully fake – blood transfusion bag. Where did you get that idea from? Have you got even more ambitious plans for what comes next?

I think I read the other day that there is a rapper who has adapted some Nike training shoes with real-blood in the sole but I figured in the age of Covid it was probably too much of an ask to use real blood – and I am hoping that we can sell more than 20 copies, so I’m not sure I would have enough anyway. Packaging has always been very important to me and I think to a lot of us it somehow communicates the spirit of the music and the songs and the bands – it says something about their world, something about their vision, that you can’t get just from the streamed songs. Not that streaming is bad. Streaming is amazing. It has been so great for listeners and we are all listeners, right? But I like to make things for people to keep or to give to other people too. So, yes, we are planning special things for the next releases too.

Might we also see more new tie-in animations and films from Alex Budovsky and George Fort to accompany these releases?

Alex and I have done another music animation. It’s called “Bathwell in Clerkentime” (you see what we did there?) and that will come out at the same time as the final album. I am hoping we can do another animation with George but he is so busy and The Crooner films take so long that the only way we can do another is via a crowd funder to raise enough money. I hope I can persuade him because we’ve had such an amazing response to those animations – especially “Me and Mr Wolf” – seven million views and a huge amount of amazing fan art inspired by the characters.

There was one Real Tuesday Weld song that was put out as a video a year or two ago, of you filmed in graveyard with guest appearances from family members but I can no longer find it on your YouTube channel or elsewhere. Is that a song that will appear on one of the upcoming finale offerings?

Yes, that is the song “Bone Dreams Blood”. The film was shot in Brompton Cemetery by Don Brosnan, our bass player. That is on the next album. It is also the title of this final trilogy and I like to think it’s the peak of all The Real Tuesday Weld songs.

Do you have strong hopes of playing material new and old live as part of this farewell round of Real Tuesday Well activity, as and when Covid restrictions allow? Do you think that it will be especially tricky returning to play in mainland Europe and in Russia?

I really really want to play live over the next year or two in the UK, Europe – and the US again if possible. It is so much more difficult, complicated and expensive now – particularly since Covid and Brexit. Strangely it is easier for us to play in Russia than anywhere else but heaven knows what will happen post-Covid. I mean, are venues going to reopen? Is there going to be a glut of people desperate to play live? Are people going to feel happy to go back to gigs even after the vaccine? These are all questions we just don’t know the answer to yet.

Once you’ve finally let The Real Tuesday Weld ride into the sunset or slip off down a secret Clerkenwell back alley, how do think you will channel your creative energies?

It sounds a little grandiose to say this, but my mission has always been to contribute to the culture. That’s what I feel best and happiest doing. That’s what feels most meaningful to me. So, all these things: X-Ray Audio, Tariverdiev, the cultural events, music for films, documentaries and animations, the radio shows and books and The Real Tuesday Weld feel part of that and I absolutely intend to carry on doing it.

I came from an art school background and I’ve never felt that easy in the music industry. I felt on the edge of it and it’s changed so much since I began. Much of that change is great but it demands something of the independent musician – a continual clamouring for attention perhaps that I don’t feel comfortable with any more. But the real reason to complete The Real Tuesday Weld is that I wanted to make a deliberate end to it. I was very inspired and moved as I’m sure you were, and so many of us were by the way David Bowie deliberately ended his career before he died. And I felt that I wanted to do that with The Real Tuesday Weld to make a deliberate, designed end to it rather than to let it just dribble away.

Might we also see you make a cameo of any kind for the upcoming TV adaptation for The Last Werewolf?

I don’t think they’ll be asking but it will be great if they include some of the music from The Last Werewolf album and, hey, I’m free!

Is there also still an I, Lucifer film in the offing or did that get stuck in the development stage?

There were several attempts to make it into a movie all of which foundered. Then a couple of years ago, a TV show came out called Lucifer. It was set in LA rather than London but very obviously based on the same idea as the book and I think that will have scuppered it for good now.

A more lateral question. Since we first met for a face-to-face interview on a bench in Hammersmith next to the Thames around 2001, your self-anointed ‘antique beat’ sound has cropped up in all sorts of TV, film and advertising spaces. Do you think that you inadvertently created a musical fusion that’s become ingrained to the point of being taken for granted? How much of what I have heard is potentially you in disguise, as part of necessary day job soundtrack commissions or are you not that omnipotent?!

I wish it had all been me, I’d be a lot wealthier than I am! But alas no. There is a lot of music that you could say was influenced by what we’ve done and some of which is a very obvious direct rip-off. I have done a fair few commercials along the way by the way, so I’m not complaining. And I think it’s too much to claim to have invented a style. These things tend to emerge in the culture when the time is right. A couple of people who are very successful in the electro swing scene have been kind enough to credit me. One in particular always refers to me as ‘The Godfather of Electro Swing’ to which I always say I’d prefer to be The Fairy Godmother…

And finally, what will you miss most about The Real Tuesday Weld, when you eventually close the book on the band, the persona and the enigma?

The fans. It has been amazing since I announced that this will be ‘The End’, how many people have written to me saying how much the music has meant to them over the years. That has been very moving and that has made it all worth it.

therealtuesdayweld.com

Main feature photo credit: Paul Heartfield