AP Wilson – In His Own Words Interviewed by Dina Termenta

DT: “So where did it all start - earliest musical memory?”
APW: “Great-Gramps played drums in a jazz band, Great-Granny used to sing in pubs up in Scotland. When we went up for holidays she’d encourage me up to do ‘Danny Boy’ or ‘Trail of The Lonesome Pines’. Well, it was the late 70’s.... I’d get polite applause and the odd 50p. Then she would kick in with the epic “These Are My Mountains” and clear the place. It wasn’t the best of starts....

DT: “Biggest influences?”
APW: “Influences? I’ve had a fair few – but I owe it all to family really. Dad had a nice, Spanish guitar which he showed me how to tune so I could play along with records. Then he bought me ‘The Beatles Complete’. Mum came home from Jersey with my first two cassettes – ‘Beatles Oldies but Goldies’ and ‘Parallel Lines’ by Blondie. I played them both till they wore out. My folks had a decent record player, but only two albums (Revolver and Sgt Pepper – with the cut outs!) and some cheesy singles like ‘Me & You & a Dog Named Boo’. Which of course, I adored.. But things really ignited when my Uncle gave me all his Stones, Who and Kinks LPs, loads of Motown singles and a Tighten Up album. From that day on, I became totally immersed in records, singers, songs and guitars. Nothing else mattered”.

DT: “You were hooked?”
APW: “Totally and utterly obsessed. Spent every scrap of cash I could muster on records and tapes. There was a great record shop on my route to school – and my dinner money was gone before I’d reached the school gates. I had part time / weekend jobs – and rode the bus the 11 miles into Southampton every Saturday to buy clothes and as many records as I could carry home. New releases from Our Price or Virgin and rare & 2nd hand from Henry’s in St Mary St. Loads of juke-box 45’s with the middle punched out.”

DT: “Who were your favourites?”
APW: “Oh, the Beatles by a county mile. One Christmas when I’d come down with mumps, they showed all their movies on TV”. Mum made a bed up on the couch and I didn’t move for a week. To be honest, I didn’t get Mystery Tour, Let It Be made me a bit sad and Yellow Submarine was a bit scary in places with those Blue Meanies. But Hard Days Night, Help and Shea Stadium Live made an indelible impression. The scene in Help where they all go in through different doors to the same house. Before the Mumps had gone I’d decided ‘That’s the job for me Ma....’ It was the best medicine.

DT: “When did you start writing songs – and why?”
APW: “I think around ten or eleven. I was two young for Punk, and had missed most of the New Wave thing. The Mod revival was pretty much done - but you could still hear a lot of really great stuff on the radio. Squeeze, Joe Jackson, Ian Dury, Undertones, Two-Tone - and of course The Jam. I found a copy of the songwords mag ‘Disco 45’ on a bus one day and started to get into the detail of how songs were put together. Constantly listening, and really studying the craft. Then just started trying to do my own thing. I had a few pals in the village and I played footie and stuff – but spent an unhealthy amount of time with headphones on, in the dark in my bedroom – or lying in bed listening to stuff to all hours of the morning. Or on the bus, happily isolated from everything and everybody around me. I’d realised that many of my favourite songs – and those singers - transported me to a different place, like being in a movie or parallel zone or something. And that I was happiest there.

..

..

DT: “Can you remember any of those tunes?”
“Very clearly. Monday and “Man in A Cornershop” from Sound Affects. ‘Shayla’ and ’11.59’ by Blondie. “I’m Only Dreaming” by Small Faces. ‘Gimme Shelter’ by The Stones. ‘Man Out of Time’ (Elvis Costello) from Imperial Bedroom. ‘Nowhere Man’ and virtually all of Rubber Soul. Still my fave Fabs LP.” The Motown and soul stuff had a completely different effect on me. ‘Tracks of My Tears’ and ‘More Love’ – in fact anything by Smokey Robinson. Or Aretha. Four Tops. Sam Cooke. Even The Supremes. These were pop records but those tunes, those voices, the emotion in that music really touched me. And, you could dance to it most of it as well”.

DT: “What about your own songs?”
“Can’t remember my earliest efforts but they were probably shit for sure.. or carbon copies of my faves. I screwed up big time by telling everytime in class I’d written this really cool song called ‘You Won’t See Me’. Almost got away with it too until Russ Warner called me out. ‘Cos his brother had all the Beatles stuff.. I didn’t tell too many fibs after that. My best efforts usually occurred when I got my heart broken. I clearly remember the effect of pouring all that emotion and heartache into my own words and music. And getting ‘healed’ by it. Then I knew I was on to something....

DT: “What about gigs?”
“Although we lived right out in the sticks, all the ‘Stars of the Day’ came to Southampton, Bournemouth, Poole Arts Centre, Salisbury City Hall. Which I could get to by bus if I set off at 9.30 in the morning. I saw The Style Council / Billy Bragg and a few others - but the world really stopped turning when The Smiths came to town”.

DT: “Queen is Dead tour?”
“No, the one before that - for Meat is Murder. We had to borrow a mate’s Mum’s car to go all the way to Chippenham for that one. The buses never went that far!”

DT :“A good night?”
“Should have been – but I think I spoiled it for everyone else”

DT: “Oh... how come?”
“Well by this point, I totally and utterly obsessed The Smiths – particularly Johhny Marr. The stance, Rickenbacker and Gibson 355 guitars, Keith Richards haircut and shades – all of which I shamelessly tried to copy. But their music... just incredible... By the time they rolled into town, it was akin to some kind of religious experience. I nearly chewed my own tongue off enthusing over the band on that ride to Chippenham – and of course, my pals split when we reached the venue. I spent the next two hours up the front going nuts. Three hours later I walked out into that cold February Wiltshire night, soaking wet and unsurprisingly, got a nasty chill. By the time they dropped me home, I’d puked at least three times in the car and all over myself..... When the tour rolled into Poole a few weeks later, I was Billy No Mates. Had to go on my own. But I didn’t care – that show was even better”. DT: “Seeing The Smiths live – another pivotal moment?” “Totally. Formed a band – and for a while I (thought I) was Southampton’s answer to Johnny Marr. There were plenty of places to play – and a pretty cool local Indie scene. But an older pal called Paul Holman from Bournemouth took me under his wing, lent me his Fostex portastudio and got us into a local studio to cut some proper demos. I owe him a great deal – learned a lot and got loads of encouragement. In our eyes Paul was a proper musician, played 4-5 gigs a week to support himself and his own songwriting. Though I’m sure it was a drag, he’d usually call me up at the end of his set his gigs to knock out ‘Move On Up’ or That’s Entertainment or ‘Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood’. He sang great, played great – and still does. He ended up in the Lemon Trees and recorded a brilliant album solo as ‘Green Isaac’- check it out.

DT: “So you moved to London in search of fame and fortune?”
“Yes – and found neither! But had a lot of fun trying. I formed a band with some flatmates and a refugee from Orange County call Joe Ongie. We wrote and co-wrote some good songs – and though he was also a total Beatles nut – he taught me loads about about structure, harmony and lyrics from a very different musical sensibility. Joe also encouraged me sing my own songs. We remain friends and collaborators to this day, and he helped with the arrangement on ‘It Ain’t Easy (When It Comes To Love)’. But Joe found it impossible to deal with our horrible English winter and headed back to California. After that (and missing a collaborator) I spent way too much time driving down the wrong roads – with the wrong people – and got nowhere fast. But I kept writing and somehow, I knew I had something good to offer in terms of my songs. I was and still am a fairly average guitar player – and singing was something I shied away from for many years. But writing, I always believed this was my calling – locked away in a smoky back bedroom, sweating over a hot piano and pile of scruffy notes”.

DT: “So who would you name-check in the Songwriting department?”
Well obviously all the writers in bands I’ve mentioned here – plus some of the guys I later discovered who were ‘in the background’. The Brill Building writers, Jimmy Webb, Holland- Dozier-Holland, Dan Penn & Spencer Oldham, Willie Dixon. And great crafters like Brian Wilson, Tom Waits, Difford & Tilbrook, Ray Davies, Van, Robbie Robertson, Nick Lowe.. I could go on for days!”

DT: “Who are your favourites at the moment?
Ron Sexsmith writes beautiful songs – and there are many to chose from. I really like some of Gregory Allen Isakov’s stuff. I discovered the Avet Brothers very late! Madison Cunningham. Most recently, Jalen Ngonda – great singer and terrific songs – for obvious reasons’. And a young fella called Tom Webber- who writes, looks and sings great. Damn him!’. But I find it ironic that while we have all the ‘tools’ - from Shazam to Spotify – and while you can still hear good stuff on radio – there is so much music, almost an infinite number of singers and songwriters – to discover and enjoy.. Strange similarities to when I first got into music actually”.

DT: “So here we are with Lost Southern Soul – how did you get to this point?”
“Three fairly seismic events really. I’d become something of a back-bedroom casualty – locked away for hours slaving over songs and an old 8 track. Brian Wilson without the talent or the sandbox! I went out to California to see my old pal Joe Ongie, who was playing covers in bars 3-4 nights a week, making good money and having a great time. I came home, dragged myself out and went a hunting for kindred spirits. Found a really vibrant local scene around Brentford, Richmond, Barnes, Kingston and other parts of the ‘Twickenham Delta’. Met a bunch a of great players and singers, formed a band and really learned my chops, playing and crucially singing 3 or 4 nights a week. And met Jim Mason! I’d always been a bit sniffy about playing covers – but when you do, you realise what really makes a good song – and why they work for people. This ‘eureka’ moment had a massive impact on my own songwriting. Secondly, it was hearing the great (local hero) Nick Lowe’s Brentford Trilogy. Seeing him live, usually solo - whenever he ventured out to do shows. And just being captivated by the way he puts his songs over in their simplest form – just voice and guitar. I copped on that if the song is any good, you don’t need all the bells and whistles. Which was where I was going badly wrong. I’ve seen him loads of times now, most recently at the London Palladium – and he gets better every time, still writes great tunes.. If I get to be half as good as Nick Lowe, I’ll go to my grave a happy man. And lastly, it was getting to work with Jim (James Mason) who has not only fortified me with the self-belief to do my thing, he made it sound pretty good too. ‘Lost Southern Soul’ is just the start of it...

DT: And how are you planning to get heard above the din?
Well, seeing as my youthful good looks have now deserted me, I’ll have to rely on hard graft, a modicum of talent and an over generous dollop of good fortune!

..

..