Although he's raised his head above the cult parapet several times over the past 20 years thanks to his collaborations with the likes of Morrissey, Mancunian guitar maestro VINI REILLY deserves the greatest recognition and respect for his own lengthy and entirely lovely back catalogue - under his DURUTTI COLUMN moniker - which has survived fad after fad (not to mention the collapse of his long-time label, the legendary Factory) and seems to become more attractive a proposition the longer Vini weaves his totally bewitching sonic spells. His new album "Someone Else's Party" is a masterpiece and TIM PEACOCK jumped at the chance of a chat with this most enigmatic of performers.
Vini Reilly has always had a reputation for being reclusive and has remained on the fringes of the music biz circus for nigh on 25 years now. He's immediately likeable, though and thoroughly enjoyable to get lost in conversation with. He speaks in a gentle Manchester burr, but possesses a quiet determination that maybe people seem to miss. The subject of Vini's new album, "Someone Else's Party" seems the obvious place to start, although one assumes the record's major theme - the recent death of Vini's mother after a long and painful illness - must have ensured it was a difficult (if beautifully realised) album to make?
"Well, sort of," begins Vini, "but most of the tunes were written as a direct response to the situation and I recorded the songs very immediately, even though I actually had a backlog of other material I had when I began recording. My routine was very much the same each day....see Mum in hospital, then go back to my portastudio, work on a track and often have it put down in an hour or so."
Your press release says you feel "Someone Else's Party" is "the first album I've made that's worth putting out in the world." As someone who's followed your work keenly since you began releasing albums with 1979's "Return Of The Durutti Column" - initially released in a sandpaper cover sleeve limited edition stuck together by the lads from Joy Division - I feel you're being unbelievably modest. But what is it about this album that works for you? Is it because it's such an emotional record?
"It just feels true to the way I was feeling," says Vini, simply.
"It was such an intense time and so difficult. The album feels more real because of the way it was done, y'know...just me in a room, exorcising emotions."
"It's not so much that there's stand out tracks for me, " he considers. "I'm just pleased I said what I wanted to say. If I really had to choose something, I'd probably choose the track "Spasmic Fairy", beause that represents a moment of relief, some happiness that came with something else in the middle of all the sadness with my Mum. I also like the way the track came together. The drums on it are actually me hitting a book against a mic for the bass drum and me flicking a paper for the hi-hat sound."
You were saying you put the songs down on a Portastudio, Vini. Just an 8-track. Is this a liberating experience after years of working in bigger studios an everything that comes with it?
"Yeah, definitely," Vini enthuses.
"Portastudios are dead cheap. Mine's only about £480 and they're very easy to use. Actually it's even easier than the old 4-track one I used to have, because the newer technology means you can balance the levels better and so on. Creatively it's great, too - less of your brain space gets used up by practicalities."
To dip further into the new album, one of the tracks I really love is "Spanish Lament". It's truly moving, pitting a gorgeous lament of a vocal by one Rebekah Del Rio (sampled from the David Lynch movie "Mulholland Drive") against a typically melancholy beauty of a guitar track from Reilly. It works a treat, but where did the idea come from? Are you a David Lynch buff, Vini?
"No, not at all, really," Vini replies.
"What happened was I was watching it with my girlfriend and neither of us were really into it. I remember being very tired and getting bored by the film when this incredible a cappella vocal starts...it literally made me sit bolt upright, the sound of it was so stunning."
"Next day, I went into Manchester to try and find some albums by Rebekah Del Rio," Vini continues, "but nobody had ever heard of her, there wasn't any back catalogue, not even on import."
Wow - so she's something of an unknown quantity, then?
"Yeah, totally," says Vini, still surprised. "The only thing I could find is her amazing vocal from that film, so I got the soundtrack, because I just had to do something with it. I'll tell you something about the track you'd never guess, though..."
Yeah, go on...
"It's actually a Spanish translation of Roy Orbison's "Crying."
You're kidding me!
"No really...it might not make much sense, but listen to it a couple of times. It really is."
He's right, you know. I did listen to it with fresh ears afterwards and that's quite a startling revelation. But then one of the fascinating things about "Someone Else's Party" is the way Vini utilises samples, like the snatch of a school choir on "Vigil" or the great reggae/ electro swoon of "Woman", which features a snatch of repeated vocal in a way Moby did with "Play" . Would I insult you with that comparison, Vini?
"No, not at all, actually," notes Vini. "That's definitely a good comparison. I've no problem at all with that."
Meanwhile, there are far more vocals on this album from Vini himself than is usual. I've always imagined you were a rather reluctant vocalist, Vini, but are you more confident with your voice these days or is it because you felt emotions really needed to be expressed this time around?
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"Mmm...yeah, it was because music wasn't enough with these songs. I really had to say what I was feeling through words. But don't think I've ever rated my lyrics," says Vini, as self-deprecating as ever.
"I always think of my lyrics as school boy poetry. I suppose the difference this time is that I totally meant everything. Even though my vocals are weak, poor and naive, I stand by what I'm saying. I've never had any delusion that I can sing, but I did used to be lead soprano in the school choir."
Wow, another Aled Jones?
"Not quite, ha ha ha!" Vini laughs, "but I really was gutted when my voice broke. I do love to sing even though I'm hopeless at it, so I'll sing anyway. There you go."
Of course, that magical, unique quitar style of yours never fails to draw in the discerning of us out there. Without wanting to get bogged down in muso cliche and drag our readers into Diminished Seventh hell, how did you cultivate your remarkable guitar style, Vini?
"Well, I usually like a clean sound, anyway, " replies Vini.
"I mean, I play full chords, so that dictates what I use. I tend to use big reverb and often delay. I got given an old Space Echo unit once, which made me sound much bigger on stage, so that was an important thing. To be honest, it's just a collision of circumstance, how I sound. It's purely an accident more than anything."
Perhaps inevitably, meanwhile, the talk drifts back to Vini's old record label, the notorious Factory Records, run by TV presenter/ entrepreneur Tony Wilson, a man with a profile sometimes bigger than the bands he worked with. With the benefit of hindsight, was the Factory experience a positive one?
"Yeah, but the Factory days were of their time," Vini suggests.
"I actually had moved on from there before they went under and I'm glad to say I'm quite happy now. But yeah, I can't argue about Factory were good to me, they let me take risks and do things I imagine other record companies would never have entertained. It was an organic process with them and Tony Wilson personally was very good with me."
I remember reading previously that you were friendly with the late Ian Curtis, the charismatic Joy Division singer who tragically committed suicide in May 1980 at only 23. I know the Durutti Column track "The Missing Boy" from 1981's superb "L.C" is meant to be about him. Is this true and how well did you know Ian?
"I didn't know him too well, " says Vini, quietly. "But we'd started to talk about more than the weather when unfotunately we lost him, which is something I still think is so incredibly sad. There was a lot to him, certainly. He wasn't laddish or silly and he was undoubtedly very talented. The song "Missing Boy" is about him - absolutely."
Before we leave the Factory-related themes behind, what did you make of the "24-Hour Party People" movie - if you saw it, of course? I haven't myself - yet. Was the hype justified?
"I went to see it, yeah," Vini reveals.
"I wasn't a fan, though. I went with my girlfriend and we both thought it went on forever and wasn't anything like factually correct. I didn't think it worked because it wasn't funny enough to be a comedy and not outrageous enough to a 'rock' film. I personally felt very divorced from it, y'know. It wasn't real...too trivial and silly. I felt like I wasn't watching something that had involved me at all. Do yourself a favour and don't bother with it...it's a waste of time."
Finally, Vini, you're with Artful Records now, you have a superb album on your hands (again) and I see you have a number of gigs coming up. Will we be seeing a Vini Reilly with a raised public profile and would you be happy with that?
"Well, my relationship with Artful is probably what you'd call casual," says Vini.
"I think it's a case of them trying to decide what to do with me and whether they can make money out of it. It's the same for me. I know this album is being released in several different territories and I do plan to do a lot of live gigs. I'm saying yes to everything at the moment because I've been in the wilderness for too long."
"It's wonderful people are taking an interest, and I can't thank my girlfriend enough for encouraging me to buy the 8-track," he continues. Modest to a fault to the end, he finishes with another typical epithet:
"But to this day I can't understand why anyone would want to listen to my music. I seriously am amazed that anyone's still bothered with me."
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