Although he's still something of an unknown quantity in the UK and America, Zambian-born, Scottish-related singer/ songwriter ROBIN AULD is something of an independent superstar in South Africa, and - remarkably - his excellent new album "Diamond Of A Day" is actually his 14th LP.
Robin has been making a few trips to the UK of late and W&H were delighted to catch him in London recently where he was busily spreading the gospel on the club circuit. He's a truly lovely bloke and great conversationalist and our half hour chat takes in his thoughts on playing a gig in the prison where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated, his involvement with a local South African organisation committed to fighting for airplay for South African musicians and how he manages the balancing act of being a musician and a businessman so adroitly.
Robin, good to speak with you. Does it feel a little strange coming to the UK as something of an uknown with 'new act' status when you've got such a well-respected track record (including headling the massive Grahamstown Festival 3 times!) back home?
"Yes, and it's a challenge in the sense of what people respond to in England," Robin muses.
"You're very discerning people over here, whereas there's not such a depth to critical assessment in South Africa. Plus, the British audiences can cope with my more miserable stuff (laughs)."
It amazes me that you release all your material through your (I assume) ironically-titled Free Lunch Recordings label after 20 years in the game. I assume you can maintain more control this way?
"Yes, though I've been through the major label mill in South Africa," Robin reveals.
"During the 1980s I was involved with major labels, so I have an idea of what that sort of experience entails, although the labels back home don't have the same resources they would here or in America."
"It's true the label's name does com from the idea of 'no such thing as a free lunch'," he continues.
"It IS ironic, but it's also meant in a realistic sense. I got the idea for doing the label from playing around the English folk circuit and applyng that independent spirit to the label. The internet's been a bit help, I must admit, because doing your own label you can't get bit space for billboards and those kind of things. It took me a long time to believe it was possible to be a musician and a businessman of sorts and make it work."
Even now, Robin sounds slightly incredulous about this turn of events, but then surely his status back home has helped him progress. He's been very pro-active in many ways (which we'll discuss in a moment), but firstly I have to ask: has it been difficult to maintain a 'career profile' in a country famed for political and social upheaval and the dreaded Apartheid?
"Yes, I can't deny that's the case," says Robin openly.
"The Apartheid climate is hard to describe, it was like being in Albania under the Communist regime, which is ironic seeing as how the Apartheid regime was supposedly set up to fight Communism. It's very difficult to describe what it was like accurately. Plus, regardless of the discriminatory aspects, simply geographically you're out of the loop in South Africa in commercial terms, y'know. I mean, I could keep my profile up by nipping over to Angola to play or whatever, but wouldn't help in any global commercial sense. Still, I'm philosophical about it. Besides, I'm here now and I'm enjoying playing solo acoustic shows in England because there's a very vibrant folk/ roots scene over here. It's great, I love embracing it."
For a man who's experienced the kind of political turmoil Robin has, he's extremely well adjusted. But I can't wait to enquire about one thing: the concert Robin once played at Pollsmoor Prison, the notorious house of detention that once housed Nelson Mandela. If it's possible to put this into words, what kind of experience was this?
"Er...well, it definitely changed my attitude to a number of things," says Robin quietly.
"Normally, I'd be very 'hang 'em high' in my attitude, very judgemental, or at least I would have been previously," he continues.
"But when you play to 500 people in that sort of situation, and they're being warm towards you....it's strange. Many of the prisoners - and bear in mind there are serial killers, stranglers, axemen in there - wanted to hug me afterwards. It's all very much there by the grace of God...."
Understandably, he trails off and falls silent, but only for a few moments.
"But a lot of it's poverty-created and very difficult to rationalise. When we left, everyone who'd attended the show seemed so happy, yet afterwards we trooped out through this deserted courtyard and they're all looking forlornly after us through these tiny cell windows. It was a hard thing to take in."
That, I have no problem believing. But, still on the subject of pro-activism, tell us more about your involvement in SAMQC, the organisation committed to fighting for airplay for local music and helping South African musicians in general. When did that start out and what has it achieved thus far?
"It kicked off properly in around 2003," Robin explains.
"It came about mostly because so many South African artists are hamstrung by a criminal lack of exposure. It battles to believe in itself on a world scale really. Once again the idea came out of being in England and hearing people here defending their culture against the all-pervasive Americanisation of everything. In Britain, people don't just accept that and roll over and play dead. South Africa tends to and treats its' artists in a very negative way. I mean, there isn't any state support or pensions for musicians and artists...people die penniless and unrecognised. As you might imagine, that's especially bad for black musicians, although it's by no means exclusive."
Meanwhile, as if you weren't busy enough already, I believe you've also written a novel called "Tight Lines". There's no end to your talents! What's the gist of the story and do you have more books in you?
"I suppose I've been interested in literature forever, really," Robin admits.
"I started writing poetry at school, then got into songwriting from there. My book's based on a love of South African English, which is a kind of variation of the language, in the same way as Australian is. It's a story about a character I knew as a teenager in South Africa, but also deals with the underbelly of the whole South African lifestyle. I suppose you could say it's like you've been living with a friend for ages and suddenly discovering he's a racist. It's all about the way people appear to be quite normal, but can hold really extreme views."
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Sounds interesting, though I'm currently more au fait with where you're at musically. Your new album "Diamond Of A Day" is impressive stuff. You've clearly got a real knack for a good hook and catchy melodies. I can hear the likes of The Beatles, Elvis Costello and Neil Finn in there. Would guys like these have been big on your stereo in your formative years?
"Well, it's been a long journey starting at about 10 or 11 seriously," says Robin. "I was initially listening to very folky things, winsome stuff like Peter, Paul and Mary and Herman's Hermits. Hand in hand with those things was musicals, Lionel Bart's "Oliver" I love, for example."
"Later," he continues, "I did get into The Beatles through "A Hard Day's Night", plus Bob Dylan, especially "Blowin' In The Wind", then Crosby Stills Nash and Young, Steely Dan, Little Feat. The one constant, I would say, is that I've never been very taken by hugely aggressive stuff. I was always more into surfing, being down the beach listening to JJ Cale. Also, I enjoy a lot of South African guitar players and my idea's always been to make western songwriting work with elements of that sound."
It's something "Diamond Of A Day" achieves, actually. The bouncy rhythms this writer has previously heard from the likes of The Bhundu Boys, Thomas Mapfumo etc and the intricate guitar lines feature prominently on several songs. I cautiously mention Paul Simon's "Graceland" as the record most western ears relate to when discussing South African 'pop' music...
"'Graceland' DID have an impact here in a sense," Robin concedes.
"Because it meant other talented musicians here could record and get noticed, the likes of Ladysmith Black Mambozo, although it was released at the very height of the Apartheid years, so ultimately there was no way the whole scene could benefit," says Robin, sadly.
"As for my own attempts to corral elements of South African music into my own work, well it's taken me years to make some kind of relationship with it. My early attempts to incorporate it were very laboured."
"I like the Jit thing the Bhundus use," he continues, "although Mbquanga is the basis of the rhythms I use and the Soul Brothers are the main commercial proponent of that style. I've learnt the rhythmic undertow from the great rhythm sections I've been fortunate to work with. The drummer on my new album, Anton Fig (from Cape Town) is very familiar with Mbquanga and he's an amazing drummer...he's done sessions for Mick Jagger and the like."
Excellent. But tell me more about one of the album's standout tracks, "Beautiful Things." Aside from being a great tune, I believe the song's lyrical backbone relates to 9/11 and the whole post-9/11 world. How rue is that?
"Very true," says Robin.
"It's another of those there by the grace of God things, in a way. A friend of mine worked in there (the Twin Towers) and - can you believe it - he was late for work that day..."
My God...
"Yeah, exactly, so while I wasn't there myself at the time, it's still very close to home for me. The song came through me really being struck by that image of the couple diving out the window holding hands. That really moved me...it would most people, I guess. I'm glad you picked up on that, sometimes people don't see these things in my songs, but then I don't shout at people, that's not my thing, I prefer a softer approach. Not everybody gets subtlety."
Indeed not, although your solo acoustic shows are certainly tailor made for the more intimate approach. You must be used to projecting on larger stages, though, because you've headlined South Africa's Grahamstown Festival a staggering three times - not bad when you consider it's a sort of African equivalent of Glastonbury. How does it compare with the European Festivals?
"Grahamstown is actually very English," Robin reveals.
"It was founded as far back as 1820 by English settlers and still has quite a literary bent to it. It's pretry similar to European Festivals with tie-dye tents, stalls selling nick-nacks and so on. Some of the other South African Festivals are culturally very different, though, like the KKK Festival....that's very Afrikaan, very different. I've played a few great festivals over here, like WOMAD and the Cambridge Folk Festival and want to get into more of those events. My set changes for those occasions, moves away from pop a little."
Great. We'll look forward to that. But one final question: I know you once considered becoming a pro surfer before music got in the way. Have you ever regretted it doing so?
"No not really," says Robin.
"Surfing was part of a wonderful youth for me, but it's very much a real young man's game, like tennis and swimming. Once your sinews start to stiffen and you could over the hill of 20 or thereabouts that's when you start thinking about joining the real world, believe me! The whole scene's changed a lot these days, but I'm real happy it's been part of my life."
A man who's happy with his lot in the pop world and still an idealist? If only the dreaded music biz could produce more like Robin Auld, we'd all be satisfied.
("Diamond Of A Day" is out now on Free Lunch Recordings.)
(www.robinauld.co.za )
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