The photo shoot begins in ten minutes. If Kasabian are to make it back to
their Knightsbridge hotel in time, they need to hurry. Right now, though,
just two obstacles stand between them and a punctual arrival — and they’re
both parked outside the Victoria and Albert Museum. “Burger van or ice-cream
van?” inquires the singer Tom Meighan. “Ice-cream van,” says his
guitar-playing sidekick Serge Pizzorno. “Whippy’s the f****** b*******,
mate. You can’t f*** with the Whippy. It’s f****** empire.”
And not for the first time this afternoon, they’re off into conversational
overdrive — conferring their avowedly rock’n’roll outlook on to...well, in
this case, ice-cream vans.
Twenty minutes elapse, and by the time the singer and the guitarist meet the
rest of the band for the photo shoot they have uttered 24 mates, 19 f***s,
11 filthys and eight empires. In the parallel universe fashioned over half a
lifetime by the Leicester schoolchums Meighan and Pizzorno, there’s no
higher compliment than “empire”. “Empire” is, among other things, a
19th-century painting of an Army general festooned with medals and stripes,
a recent gig in a disused Mexican supermarket in which the locals sang along
to every song from their self- titled 2004 debut, and “those 10p crisps you
get in corner shops”.
Most of all, though, Empire is the name Kasabian have given to their
second album. And to say that they’re proud of it is an understatement on a
par with “Houston, we have a problem”. Four months after applying the
finishing touches to the record, Meighan and Pizzorno take palpable pleasure
in telling each other about their favourite bits. Presumably not for the
first time, Meighan congratulates Pizzorno on British Legion — the
guitarist’s sole vocal on the album, and a song apparently recorded in one
take during the record’s month-long sessions. Pizzorno bats the compliment
back. “I’m not a frontman, though. Look at Tom and ask yourself this. Where
would you be without frontmen who are out of their f****** minds?” If such
grand claims have become Kasabian’s stock-in-trade, you can hardly blame
them. Despite the lukewarm critical reception meted out to their 2004 debut,
its utilitarian mix of dance rhythms and debauched sentiments effortlessly
reached a predominantly laddish demographic — one that happily forms its
preferences without recourse to music press consensus. So while Rolling
Stone bemoaned the “lack of substance” behind its “ second-hand dance
rock”, and Q called the album “weak”, a run of singles such as Club
Foot and Processed Beats outperformed each other in the Top 40.
In the past couple of years, it has become customary for bands on their
debut albums — Keane and Kaiser Chiefs, for instance — to formalise their
arrival into the rock Premiership with a triumphant Alexandra Palace date.
The lack of fanfare with which Kasabian did the same, though, finally made
their detractors sit up and listen.
Better still, Empire is an album that will make light work of keeping
them there. No longer in thrall to Oasis, the Stone Roses and Happy Mondays,
Meighan and Pizzorno convert potential into frankly dramatic results. Asked
to describe its eponymous opening track, Meighan serves up a ready-prepared
answer — “Marc Bolan smoking crack with Doctor Who.” No less immediate is
the song pencilled in as the album’s second single. Propelled along by
handclaps and style drum fills, the woozy glam-slam of Shoot the Runner
portrays a band as apt to channel the spirit of Studio 54 as the Haçienda.
What some people might call arrogance is characterised by Pizzorno as “a
self-belief which, at times, was all we had” — a reference to the earliest
years of his friendship with Meighan, shortly after the two met at secondary
school. It was, says the guitarist, Oasis who gave the two friends a common
point of reference. Meighan elaborates, adding that during the four years he
worked in a sheet-metal factory, it was the sentiments expressed in Oasis’ s Rock’n’roll
Star that kept the dream intact. A recent support tour with the
Gallaghers has done little to diminish their adoration. According to
Pizzorno, “Tom and Liam are remarkably similar characters. They’re fearless.
Nothing phases them.”
Perhaps that’s just as well, given the challenges ahead this summer. As Mick
Jagger and Keith Richards negotiate the transition from Glimmer Twins to
Zimmer twins, Kasabian’s imminent support slot will give the world a chance
to see how the pretenders to their throne are shaping up. Given Meighan and
Pizzorno’s famed aversion to humility, talking about these — their biggest
shows to date — presents certain, shall we say, deference issues.
“What am I going to say when I meet Mick?” ponders Meighan. “In my mind, it’s
not really happening. At least, not until I get there and see him standing
there wearing those shit socks that are too bright for him.”
I offer a suggestion. How about something like: “Why don’t you make another
album as good as Beggars Banquet or Let It Bleed?” “You’re
having a laugh, ain’t you? I ain’t got the f****** authority to, mate. I
tell you what, though — I think Keith Richards will have a f****** fit when
he sees Serge. He’ll be like a lost son.”
Meighan has a point — more so for the fact that Pizzorno appears to be wearing
eyeliner. It turns out, though, that this is no cosmetic homage. The band
had to wear it for a video shoot the day before. Pizzorno is keen that this
be made clear. “Make sure you mention it, will you?” But surely if it’s OK
for the Stones to wear eyeliner, then Kasabian have nothing to fear. After
all, Jagger was caked in it for Performance.
“Yeah,” concedes Pizzorno, “but so does the geezer from Kaiser Chiefs, so
that’s put a downer on things. You have to be careful.”
At times, it’s hard to gauge whether Kasabian actually like any of their
contemporaries, save for Oasis. The Kooks? “Byker Grove with
leather jackets, mate,” tuts Meighan. Franz Ferdinand? “I heard one of our
songs coming out of a big PA after one of their songs. Do you know what? I
felt sorry for them.” As they take it in turns to have a poke at another
band, the other laughs like a naughty schoolboy. Don’t Kasabian worry that
their whimsical pot-shots might seem altogether more provocative when
committed to newsprint? It has to be said, Pizzorno has never looked less
like a worried man. “You know what? It’s a circus, man — and everyone takes
it too seriously. I mean, it’s not like I would ever want to fill them in if
I met them.”
“Absolutely,” echoes Meighan. “That’s the problem with bands I meet, like, at
festivals and so forth. They just don’t seem very sure of themselves. Even
when I’ve gone up to them and said, ‘I like your music’ — they haven’t
really known what to say. It’s like they’re scared of us.”
It’s at this point that Pizzorno offers a little brotherly advice. “But you
know what, mate? You’ve got to remember that these people — they’re not used
to being confronted with that. A lot of them are quite shy. And, no offence,
but you’re a lunatic, mate — you’ve got to remember that.”
“Yeah,” nods Meighan, thoughtfully. “Good point, well made.”
Kasabian support the Rolling Stones in Zurich (Aug 5) and Nice (Aug 8).
Empire is released on July 24
