As Much Fun As the Pub

24 Oct 1998
Written by Garth Cartwright

Courtesy of B. Gross

Forum, London -- London loves The Beautiful South. Every time Paul Heaton lit a cigarette or strolled towards the microphone, a cacophony of voices whooped and cheered. Not that Heaton paid any attention. Indeed, one almost expected him to mutter 'You soft southern bastards' as he eyed the capital's citizens bopping about to Hull's most famous pop group. Instead, Heaton told them a Phil Collins joke.

Not a bad joke by pub standards, and The Beautiful South treat live performances pretty much as any old night down the pub. They remain casual in both dress and demeanour, knocking off the hits with easy aplomb, chatting among themselves, taking time out for more fags and beer. No wonder Britain has so wholeheartedly embraced this band while the rest of the world pays not the slightest attention.

The 2,500-capacity Forum is quite an intimate venue, given that The Beautiful South's multi-platinum CD sales suggest they could effortlessly fill Wembley Arena or Earl's Court. But the thought of doing so probably fills the group with dread - like many others, they view their near-decade of unbroken success as something of a mistake. In concert, they reflect this by avoiding the affectation and posturing that usually plague the fabulously wealthy.

Which also means they don't provide much of a show. The six-piece band, accompanied by horns, percussion and keyboards, are touring to promote their new album Quench - straight in at number one this week with a massive 97,000 copies sold - yet desperately want to appear unaffected by success. This means the lush sound of their CDs is reduced to a bubbly pop-soul stew.

Indifference to the pop-presentation machine means that the band, wrapped in designer anoraks, resemble British pop's Everybloke. And, as Heaton trades verses with fellow singer Jacqueline Abbott, they act out bathetic soap operas that leave you laughing into your beer.

Current hit Perfect 10 finds him pleading that he loves his partner regardless of her size, while she drolly emphasises that size matters only when it comes to fellas.

Considering that Heaton writes all the lyrics, the song is probably more revealing of masculine fear than female desire - vocalist Brianna Corrigan left in 1994 after finding herself unable to sing Heaton's lyrics - but it is this mixture of insecurity and wit that bonds the band with the masses.

Unlike Mick Hucknall - a fellow traveller in seductive suburban pop - Heaton and Co have maintained a consistent standard of song-writing and record releases. As the hits breeze past, sung with a mixture of music-hall nudge -nudge and pure pop pleading, Heaton, Abbott and third singer Dave Hemingway prove that between them they possess six of the strongest lungs in Britain. Old Red Eyes certainly knows how to carry a tune.

Big voices, blunt irony, immersion and amusement in beer 'n' fags culture, a willingness to celebrate life's little ups and downs: this is Northern Soul.