Steeley Determination: Richard Hawley

Every evening under the clock at London’s Waterloo station, amongst the weary commuters and lost tourists, there’s a stream of couples meeting before they head off into the night. Thousands of people have met here over the years. Greeted by a loved one, the fear of being stood up is postponed for another night. This evening, Gigwise is making its way across Waterloo station, trying to avoid a head on collision with a cluster of French tourists. If Gigwise doesn’t get its skates on it risks standing somebody up…

Last autumn, Richard Hawley, erstwhile Longpigs guitarist and one-time Pulp member, released an album, ‘Coles Corner’, which received lavish praise for its invention, timelessness and dexterity. The album spawned a fine collection of singles, and a high place in many end of year polls. The title track, complete with luxurious Scott Walker-esque vocals and Ennio Moricone aping strings, finds the singer in his native Sheffield, standing on the corner where the old Coles department store used to be. He waits for his loved one “with a smile and a flower in her hair,” only to walk home alone and find “loneliness hanging in the air.”

The Coles Corner liner notes describe how every city has a place where people have been meeting for years. This particular evening, Gigwise accepts defeat in meeting Richard Hawley, puts some money into a phone box, and makes its apologies.

With a voice as baritone on the phone as it is on record, Hawley is an eloquent, if sometimes defensive interviewee. Quietly pleased with how Coles Corner has been received, he distances himself from it being interpreted as a confessional record. “I suppose bittersweet does about summarise what my songs are,” he considers, before adding with a touch of resignation, “That’s what the rest of the press say so…I don’t really look to categorise my work.”

Hawley has a string of live dates coming up over the next few months, including a UK tour which starts on the 18th of May, and the V Festival towards the end of August. Given how important Sheffield is to him – mostly as a source of inspiration - his reluctance to spend months on the road when he has a family, is understandable.

“It is difficult to balance your work life with life in Sheffield,” he explains. “It’s about keeping a perspective and learning to take a step back and trying to please yourself.” Switching into rock elder statesman mode, he adds, “A lot of bands don’t look after themselves, and look where they end up? It’s their own lives, if they can’t write music for themselves, then who are they writing for?”

Hawley should know. When the Longpigs split in 1997, after an acrimonious US tour, he found himself with a blinding hangover, and a spiralling drink problem. He described himself to one journalist as being, “a complete gibbering wreck.” The excesses of the road and Hawley’s introspective character nearly made him quit the industry for good. Gentle coercion from his Sheffield mates, particularly Jarvis Cocker, convinced him to persevere.