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Cousteau: Music from the depths

Sophisticated, old-fashioned, poetic – Cousteau aren't your run-of-the-mill pop chart-toppers. But, as their front man tells Garry Mulholland, that's exactly the way they like it

Friday 14 June 2002 00:00 BST
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"We're not flavour of the month. We're not Britney or Coldplay. Only certain kinds of music are in vogue at certain times, and our music never will be." Liam McKahey has a unusual angle on this pop self-promotion thing. He's supposed to be plugging his band, the elegantly swoonsome and soulful Cousteau, and their beautifully written and sung new LP, Sirena. Their first self-titled album sold 150,000 copies on word of mouth, and intrepid touring has brought them gold records in Italy, and strong followings from the USA to Australia. The Cork exile with the rich Irish brogue should, therefore, be talking Sirena up as the big breakthrough, the ticket to stardom and riches. But no. "I think it's highly unlikely. The day we try to write a hit single is the day we're gonna split up," he insists.

The reason for McKahey's lack of world domination statements lies not in modesty, false or otherwise, but in the kind of music Cousteau play. A classic, sophisticated, love and heartbreak pop that, with its simple production values, pianist Davey Ray Moor's poetic melodies and lyrics, and Liam's booming-yet-bereft croon, is utterly out of pop fashion. When you hit him with a list of obvious stylistic comparisons – Scott Walker, Bacharach, Jimmy Webb, Bowie, Nick Cave, Lee Hazelwood, Tindersticks – he won't even do the usual and pretend he's never heard of 'em. "Oh, man! That list you just named, I've got every single album those people have ever done! Anyone who's gonna compare me to someone like Scott Walker – I'd be an eejit if I said, 'No I don't! How dare you!' the man's a God! So these things are a huge compliment to me."

Add the band's suited and booted sartorial stance – "Our motto is 'There's nothing like a good suit to make a shabby man look good.' Mind you, we get all our suits from Help The Aged"– and you get the picture: sophistication, mood, old-fashioned musicianship. But Cousteau music has edge, an ever present feeling of loss and dread which prevents all the craft from tipping into the pit marked "bland". This, perhaps comes from the 37-year-old McKahey's previous life as a boy from Cork who came to London to go to art school, and instead used his painting and decorating skills to fund failed bands and serious drug and drink problems. "It qualifies me to sing Cousteau songs," he confirms, "all the experiences that come with the darker side of life. Don't get me wrong – it wasn't all dark and dingy and horrible, I had some fantastic times. But I'm very happy I was able to get out of it in one piece, because a lot of my friends are dead now." When Liam finally met up with Moor, Craig Vear, Joe Peet and Robin Brown in the mid-Nineties, the music and how to make it came naturally. Even the name.

"It just seems to say everything about the band. We're all huge fans of Jacques Cousteau's shows in the Seventies. All of us, individually, wanted to be in his crew when we were kids. When you think of the word you think of the sea, and the sea is a really good metaphor for what we do. Deep, mysterious, vast. And the word sounds classy." As Cousteau gradually built a live reputation, got signed and got better, only one incident has caused a stumble. Although frankly, the rumour that McKahey was a boxing bruiser who sorted out hecklers with his fists didn't exactly do Cousteau's rock'n'roll rep any harm. Liam is uneasy about it, though, as he retells the tale of knocking out an irate punter at an early gig at London's 100 Club. "Firstly, I'm not a boxer. And I wasn't just being heckled. I don't think it's cool to knock people out and I abhor violence.

"This guy got really abusive and then threw a pint of water over me. Anyone with half a brain knows that you don't throw a glass of water onstage with loads of electricity. So I just jumped offstage and did him, basically. I'd really hate to get the name that I'm some kind of thug, cos I'm not. But anyone who threatens my life I'm gonna defend myself." Not that McKahey spends much of his conversational time complaining. The surprise success of the Cousteau debut has got him a house in the Cotswolds, the means to look after his family, a new life. "And every day I get up and tell myself how much of a relief it is. But I still haven't thrown away my overalls and my brushes. I'm a bit of a realist. The music business is not known for its longevity. But I'll have had a few years of having my dream come true. All I've wanted to do since I was a kid was be a footballer or a singer, and I've realised one of those dreams."

'Sirena' is out now on Palm Pictures

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