Collins explains why the Britrock survivors still believe in albums and real amps moving air, and discusses their return to the formative Rockfield Studios after three decades
Mark Collins is out of context. Far from the smoke-blackened, rain-lashed skies of Manchester – the northern British city where he planted his flag in the late Eighties – we find the Charlatans guitarist looking out over paradise from the window of his Portugal home. “Sun’s out,” he beams. “I’m not complaining.”
While the reborn Oasis have swung the spotlight onto Manchester of late, things have moved a little slower for the city’s other adopted sons. Technically, the Charlatans hail from the West Midlands, although Collins is a born-and-bred Mancunian, and the band’s loose-limbed grooves fit the brief.
“It’s been a long time coming,” admits the 60-year-old of the band’s new album, We Are Love. “It took us seven years, accidentally. We didn’t plan it like that. We started talking about it in 2019. But then a pandemic got in the way.”
By happy accident, however, the timing of We Are Love couldn’t be better. This 14th studio album has not only dropped into a world that’s suddenly sweet on Nineties-era jangle-crunch Britrock, but kicks against the socio-political backdrop with its love-thy-neighbor vibes.
“We’re not trying to make political statements,” points out Collins, “but we don’t agree with the rise of the right. That’s in the feel of this record…”
In the age of the Spotify playlist, do you still believe in the album format?
Maybe it’s an old-fashioned way of thinking, but we like to have a selection of songs that go somewhere, rather than just, “single, single, single,” you know? This feels like a proper album. It has ups, it has downs, it has cohesion. There’s a good feel about it.
What do you remember about the early sessions?
In the ’90s, we’d spend four months straight in the studio. But back then, we were young and carefree. We didn’t have mortgages and loads of kids
It was a nightmare! When we first went to Rockfield Studios, we didn’t really know what we were doing. We thought we just wanted to make a demo, to get the ball rolling. And obviously, going to Rockfield is an expensive way of making a demo. The first session wasn’t entirely a success, but there was something about it. We thought, ‘OK, the stone isn’t actually rolling, but we’ve given it a nudge.’
Next session, we had the title track and then we started gathering momentum. We probably did seven sessions over 14 months. But in between, we did two tours of America. In the Nineties, we’d spend four months straight in the studio. But back then, we were young and carefree. We didn’t have mortgages and loads of kids. But now we do. There are divorces, ex-wives…
Do you still think the studio has something that you lose if you’re just sitting in front of a laptop?
Yeah, of course it has. We don’t have to worry about waking our parents up, so we enjoy being in a studio. We hadn’t been to Rockfield since ’96 or ’97. We felt it was time to go and revisit it.
Given the band’s history, Rockfield must hold mixed memories for you?
Yeah, we lost our keyboard player, Rob [Collins], in a car crash there in 1996, when he was driving back to the studio. After that, we didn’t go back. Not for a long time.
But Tim [Burgess, singer] was doing a solo record just before Covid and I went to play some guitar for him. I got back there and I thought, ‘This is OK. I don’t feel weird about it.’ Enough water had passed under the bridge to enjoy the positives and not be saddened by Rob’s accident.
What are your own favorite guitar parts?
I’m pleased with the title track. That one came together really quickly around a Wurlitzer piano. Maybe it was something I’d had in my head for 30 years, but I had that part within about 30 seconds.
Is it better to just let the riffs roll off your fingers without being too academic?
That’s the only way. You have to listen. Sometimes the riff comes straight away, other times it might come four weeks later. I enjoy a certain way of playing and I’ve got to fit in around a lot of growling keyboards.
They occupy the same frequencies, a Hammond organ and a guitar, so you’ve got to work around each other. I think there’s still a wealth of stuff that’s hardly been scratched, you know?
What was your setup on We Are Love?
My Jaguar featured on most of the tunes – it’s a ’62 or a ’63 – but I used loads of guitars. I had a mid-Sixties Gibson ES-330. A late-Sixties Gibson Firebird came out; I haven’t used that for ages. All the Gibsons I used had P90s, and there was an SG Junior as well.
Amps?
I had a Marshall JTM45, a Fender Twin Reverb, a Vox AC15, and a Fender Princeton, which is the one I used on nearly everything. That’s not too old – maybe 20 years.
I’m still a big fan of amps, of moving air before it hits the microphone. I also used a Strymon Mobius, which is quite tasty, a bit of an Eighties vibe. It’s good for dialing in rotary sounds, although the rotary sounds I used, I ended up playing through Tony [Rogers, keys]’s Leslie.
How well do the Charlatans behave in the studio now, compared to the Nineties?
Compared to the Nineties, we’re practically saints!