Never Enough Notes e-zine // reviews + interviews + music

Dub Pistols frontman Barry Ashworth swaps the Kendal Calling main stage for the backstage area beside a picturesque Cumbrian lake to talk to Never Enough Notes on why ska still has a place in his music, festival memories and why he hates Radio 1. Over and over again…

“I was listening to Radio 1 on the way up here, and I wanted to smash my head against the f***ing window screen. I couldn’t listen to more sh*t if it was possible”.

A rage against Britain’s most popular radio station will prove to be a frequently visited topic over the course of my conversation with Barry Ashworth on this bright summer’s afternoon at Kendal Calling festival.

“We’re popular and we have a massive following but we’re not popular because of them. I was just sitting there in my car listening to what was going on and I was like, ‘F***. OFF.’ It’s so sh*t! And it’s so contrived”. The weird thing is that I never even mentioned Radio 1. Rather, I had enquired as to where the sudden spurt in popularity of the ska/reggae/hip-hop recipe had derived amongst his contemporaries. But this is Barry Ashworth, and I will grow to learn that he is not the type to flirt with normality.

Fresh from a stirring set on the main stage with his band Dub Pistols, 44-year old frontman Barry looks a little worse for wear as I watch him go through the interview schedule in this scenic backstage area. Perhaps this is because the crowd have just watched him go through almost two bottles of vodka during the performance. But that would just be me venturing a wild guess.

Halfway through one filmed conversation with his bandmates, he decides to stand up and take a leak into the lake which lies behind him, urged on by his fellow Pistols. So maybe I should feel fortunate that the press officers split them up for the remaining journalists.

Having just watched Barry throw shapes on stage which can only be described as ‘dad-dancing’, climb on top of the speakers several times and use the F-word incessantly as he riled the crowd into party mode, all while experimenting with a mishmash of genres, I ask where his inspiration comes from.

“My inspiration is The Specials, The Clash, The Jam, Studio Wham. I grew up and my father was into Van Morrison and things like that, and my thing was I used to listen to reggae. That was what I was into”.

It doesn’t explain the dance manoeuvres, but fair enough.

Dub Pistols have slowly but surely gained popularity over their 14-year existence, with fans tapping into their belief that ska has a place in the 21^st century when incorporated into hip-hop along with sprinkles of dub and reggae.

“It was just a natural progression, because I’ve been into the whole ska scene and surrounded by rap and reggae, so to me that was just natural”, says Barry, who thankfully begins to show signs of composure away from his friends. “But it’s weird when people ask ‘So where did you come up with that?’ But it’s just a natural thing, isn’t it. They’re urban sounds”.

But Barry, who claims to have written songs for Boy George earlier in his career, refuses to take his work into the mainstream. “The maddest thing is, we don’t take our stuff to Radio 1 or any other scene and try sell it”, he pronounces with his head held high, although it becomes clear that this edgy self-confidence is a mere disguise for an uncomfortable relationship he shares with the music scene of today.

“Probably one of the worst things that could happen to us is that we could sell one of our records to Radio 1 and they’d like it – it would be the biggest insult ever! It’s almost like your records are too good to be on Radio 1. But not just us, anyone.

“Like I say, I listened to Radio 1 this morning and I was ashamed. I can’t believe that the British scene, everything from the ‘60s, The Beatles, everything, led the way towards being the most embarrassing thing in our music culture.

“You listen to every record that’s going on and it’s shi*t”.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, Calvin Harris – quality. Underworld – quality. But generally, on the whole, I’m ashamed to be part of a culture that is so embedded in this, where people look up to our music and this is what they see.

“Radio 1, honestly, it’s awful. Shocking”.

It’s fair to say that Barry Ashworth is not a fan of Radio 1. He describes “them”, without a precise target in mind, as “smug” and “smarmy”, while regularly claiming that high quality music can be produced without the aid of the BBC’s flagship wireless station. Yet, he resents the idea that Dub Pistols belong to the underground, instead pointing to 14 years in the business as proof that success can be born out of other means than mainstream advertisement.

“There’s so much good music in the UK and you don’t need to be part of what they’re doing”, he protests with a twisted face bent in disgust. Maybe it’s the bottle or two of vodka blurring his vision, but this Pistol is not ready to shoot himself in the foot by taking the next step forward for his band at the expense of artistic integrity.

But it’s not just the Beeb who are open to the stinging bite of the West Londoner, with the X-Factor also rather predictably tasting some of Ashworth’s venom. “For me, for years you struggle with that (lack of commercial exposure), but now I’m happy with what I’ve been doing and we’re going forward”, he utters with a thorough conviction.

“You can actually make music without being part of that whole Simon Cowell bollocks. I mean, yeah, OK you can sell a million records but also you can make a living by being true to yourself. That’s what music is about”.

Barry appears to be one of these refreshing personalities who is in this business solely to produce music which he likes, without a care in the world of how it is received by others or the income it generates.

Yet, when I query as to what the defining moment was to be a Dub Pistol, his answer is convoluted.

“We signed a million dollar deal with Geffen (now Interscope-Geffen-A&M); Jimmy Iovine (American music producer who has worked with John Lennon, Bruce Springsteen and Eminem, amongst others), who signed Geffen Records, he talked to our manager when we were nowhere.

“We were pissing in the wind, and Jimmy Iovine was talking to our manager about another band and he was like, ‘Have you heard this record? Some band called Dub Pistols’. And the next day I went out and we signed a million dollar record deal, with f***ing Geffen, the biggest record label around! And from nothing, having nothing, to that, it hit ya”.

Ashworth’s response feels as if it is confronting these principles he has stood by so tenaciously up until this point. If he isn’t in music for the money, it seems odd how the band’s defining moment concerned some heavy coinage. But, on the other hand, who is anyone to scoff at a seven-figure record deal?

Having just played in front of a festival crowd and loving every minute of it, it seems like the Dub Pistols are ready-made festival gurus. But what has been their greatest festive moment?

“Probably Bestival, because one of the biggest inspirations for me was The Specials, and they got back together again (after that festival)”, he says without much hesitation.

“It was after we had Lynval Golding and Terry Hall playing with the Dub Pistols. They were playing with us and I had tears running down my face, it was really working me.

“And afterwards when I was walking away people were saying ‘The Specials were wicked’. But then other people were telling them, ‘It wasn’t The Specials it was Dub Pistols with two guests’, and they ended up going, ‘Then we need to get The Specials back together again!’ It was just mind blowing”.

He speaks with open passion, with the influence of this band in particular having a real effect on his musical outlook. However, this sentiment is nothing compared to what follows, as he reluctantly recalls the recent tragedy at a German free festival, where a crowd crush killed 21 people and injured over 500. For, this event brought out the extraordinary highs and the deepest lows that can be experienced by such a huge occasion, with Ashworth right in the middle of it as he performed a DJ set.

“Last week I deejayed at Love Parade in front of 1.2 million people and I was like that”. He points to the air with a huge grin to recreate the scene.

“And f***ing hell, it was the most amazing moment I’ve ever had, and then obviously look what happened, it brought it down to earth”, his voice notably more soft as his face tilts towards the ground.

“I mean afterwards, when people started dying, it was like I had gone from the best moment to the absolute worst moment”.

His feelings on the subject are clear for all to see. He may be intoxicated but his sorrow is genuine, although this quickly returns to glee as he sucks on his warm can of Tuborg, which he intends to chuck away in order to presumably get back on the heavier stuff, and tells me of his love of making music once more.

“I just want to enjoy making music. I’m lucky at this age to still be appreciated and still be relevant”.

So where does Barry Ashworth seem himself in ten years?

“Probably dead”. He giggles as his mate protests, “Please don’t say that Barry! What’s the point in doing this if he’s going to be dead in ten years?”

Hopefully that won’t turn out to be true, but if he drinks the same amount of vodka on stage at every gig he plays, he won’t be far off. This seems to signal the end of our surreal conversation, although he still has one more jibe at his number one enemy left in the tank.

“Nah, its bollocks, there’s no plan. Because I know for well that we’re not going to make our next record on Radio 1 or goodness knows what. We’ll just make our tunes that we’re into, you know. At the moment, I’m working seven days a week, more than I’ve ever worked in my life, just to make tunes and I’ll just see where it takes me really”.

So if you wish to check out the Dub Pistols, you probably won’t find them on the wireless.