Guy Garvey appears to be in a contemplative state when we interact in Dublin. The muscular leader of Elbow is just over his 50th birthday, and between coffee-sips, he reminisces about his adolescent attempts to establish himself in the music scene.
The first musical group he was part of was named Synoptic Reverb. At the tender age of 14, he found himself in this band. He nostalgically recounts to Mark Potter, the guitarist of the same band sitting next to him, about his own and Mark’s band titled Blue Flame. Garvey had deceived them about his drumming skills until Joe Devlin, now a close friend, approached him announcing he’d heard about Garvey’s drumming talents. Surprised at the opportunity, Garvey accepted an invitation to join Devlin’s band.
Garvey chuckles as he recalls his band rehearsing in a scout hut on Saturdays. There they attempted to cultivate mushrooms on bread slices placed on the boiler, an experiment which proved fruitless. Their choice of cigarette was Berkeley Red, as it was perceived to be a garage band smoke. Monster Munch was their go-to snack because it was the garage band crisp. He grins at the thought of how they presented themselves as a band, not because they ever performed a gig, but because standing under the bridge made them appear as a band. This imagery provided him with a unique form of attention from his school peers, an experience he fondly remembers as thrilling.
[ The Dandy Warhols’ Courtney Taylor-Taylor: ‘The contest was always between me and them. Sporting earrings, high hairdo, eyeliner, military boots, and mom’s blouse.’ ].
Garvey, an astoundingly humble and approachable man, despite his extraordinary success as a musician – with his band Elbow recently unveiling their 10th record, Audio Vertigo – still exudes an infectious joy every time he steps onto the stage. “I take immense pride in the fact that we’re still making music 33 years since we first came together, and I look forward to many more such years to come. Life as a band isn’t easy, we encounter all kinds of challenges, but it’s important to be there for one another. And I foresee many more of such trials to be faced together in future. However, the one thing I never ponder is whether I could’ve accomplished more with my life. I feel satisfied and regret-free at 50; though how I’ll feel a decade later depends largely on what fate has in store for me.”[para]
Garvey is certainly no stranger to the unexpected twists and turns life throws at him. According to him, their last album, 2021’s Flying Dream 1, barely got any airtime and almost vanished (‘like a vanishing whisper’) soon after its launch. Born during the Covid pandemic and subsequently finished and produced at the Theatre Royal in Brighton, the music tracks were delivered softly and empathetically. These were not particularly the kind for upbeat radio play, but he underscores there were valid reasons for that.
Garvey crafted a significant portion of his work at the rear of his home, a cigarette perpetually in hand, while he managed his responsibilities during the pandemic. This period also marked the sad demise of his mother-in-law, the respected Diana Rigg, while he simultaneously tried to care for his three-year-old son. Garvey and Rachael Stirling, an actor who has been lauded with an Olivier Award nomination, welcomed their son into the world in 2017. The private moments he spent with his small but remarkable family, which included checking music-filled love notes from his buddies, inspired the most personal and introspective lyrics he has ever penned. The songs are deeply personal, touching on his past, his son’s future, and their shared hometown, Bury in Greater Manchester, a place tightly knit with Elbow’s narrative.
Moving on to the creation of Audio Vertigo, Garvey shares that he seized the opportunity to sketch out characters and narratives. He had a realisation that nobody was interested in hearing about his perfect garden, his ideal relationship or the verdant nature surrounding him anymore. All those themes had overstayed their welcome, so instead, he dove into the turbulent waters of his past failed relationships, brimming with toxicity and rampant drug usage. He plucked pieces from the past and magnified the characters involved, bombarding them with compelling development. The process of working on this new album was not a reactionary decision, but rather, it was a natural step forward. Returning to a familiar rhythm, shouting over amplifiers to one another, brought forth a new wave of excitement and vigour.
Potter explains, “Our previous album’s separation set us on a path to experience our music differently. We craved for a different kind of rhythm, which was majorly initiated through drum beats and grooves. The intimate, charged atmosphere of small venues where we jammed steered us to innovative methods of creation.” According to Garvey, the change in their music needed to happen, however, and specifically for themselves. Anything similar to their previous work was discarded. The idea of ‘fun’ entered their mindset, and they welcomed its influence.
Still, Garvey recognises that the strain of melancholy that has been consistent in Elbow’s music since their first album, Asleep in the Back, in 2001, remains the same. He has no qualms about being deemed as the “King of Glum.” Garvey adds, “When you have the fortune of having children and enough time to sit and ponder, your mind tends to veer towards their wellbeing. The phenomenon of ‘gathering your thoughts’ is rather intriguing.” As he confesses, the profound satisfaction he derives from his life forms a part of his thoughts.
Melancholy does not translate into sadness for him, rather a serene introspection. He believes people gravitate towards it to synthesise ideas and engineer their forthcoming actions. His bandmate, Mark, he indicates is a nature lover who finds joy in his solitary jaunts in the wilderness with his pet dog, while he prefers a pen and pad by a rain-covered window.
Garvey and Potter genuinely appreciate their music’s healing process, which allows them to cope with joy (marriage, birth, long-lasting friendships) and sorrow (relationships dissolution, death). Garvey mimics with a gesture, “Whenever someone among us is in distress, our collective instinct is to form a ring of support around them, in what can perhaps be described as our characteristic stoic, Northern English male response, until they regain their emotional footing.”
For nearly a quarter of a century, the band Elbow has been consistently producing music. The group’s thoughtful, considered tunes spread across ten albums have garnered them prestigious accolades including the Mercury Prize for ‘The Seldom Seen Kid’, the Brit Award for the best British group, and an Ivor Novello Award for ‘One Day Like This’, their critically acclaimed song.
The group is still in disbelief that they have had the opportunity to pursue their passion in music, achieving recognition and performing to large audiences. The thrill of creating music, sharing it with band members and receiving positive feedback is what fuels their desire to continue. The promise is to always stay involved.
A long-forgotten cup of coffee sits beside us. As we prepare to leave, Garvey adds one final comment about the group’s sustained existence. He points out that no band member receives more financial reward than any other. In his opinion, discrepancies, such as one member driving a luxurious car like a Ferrari, could spell the end of the group.
Elbow’s latest offering, ‘Audio Vertigo’ is now available, courtesy of Universal/Polydor. Fans can catch their performance at Trinity College Dublin come Monday, July 1st.