MUSIC

Don’t expect to hear any synth-pop when Scarlet Rascal & The TrainWreck take up their well-earned headline slot in the Fleece’s Best of Bristol season, says Julian Owen.

In retrospect, “nonchalant” was the wrong word. It implied they were casual, or imbued with a certain “whatever”-ness, as if what had just happened meant nothing to them. No, back in February, as Scarlet Rascal & The TrainWreck filed through a packed whooping and hollering crowd at the end of a Louisiana-slaying set and brushed past your correspondent en route, the word he should have been jotting in his notebook was “insouciant”. It speaks more fully of their poise, the steely look of determination in their eyes. Their debonairness, perhaps. In sum, whatever it was they were giving off that prompted us to write: “From beginning to end they exude the confidence of a group considering themselves the finished product, ticking off the minutes before the world comes to get them.”

They’ve only just turned 20. Time is on their side. Already, they’re making good on what drove louchely charismatic frontman, singer/guitarist Luke Brooks, to want to form a band in the first place: the disappointingly dull live shows that formed his first gigging experiences. “It’s about being what you’d want to see yourself. We thought: ‘F*ck it, we’ll be the band that does that, then.’ Simple as that, really.”

Scarlet Rascal and Bristol’s wider world musical reputation aren’t necessarily natural bedfellows. “I work around drum and bass,” sighs Luke, “and I can’t stand it.” Instead, it rather sounds as though they’re on loan to us from New York. Could have been so, indeed, from any point over the last 40 years. Latest demo, ‘Kichi’, for example, takes in everything from the sunshine-through-the-mist melodies of ‘Loaded’-era Velvet Underground to the offhand cool of The Strokes. ’Twas ever thus. When the group started as a guit/drums duo, with Maya Indelicato doing the hitting, the clearest influence was prime years CBGBs. “Richard Hell was a massive thing,” says Luke.

Actually, “started” as a duo is wrong. Three years ago when the pair met at Access To Music, a variable line-up could number as many as five. A trio become more fixed until they realised, says Luke, “we were making bad music. One day the bass player didn’t turn up and it just sounded better without him.” “That,” says Maya, “and there was only enough space in my shed for two of us.” Thus, the pair we saw trying to fill a BrisFest stage in 2009. The tunes and showmanship were there; the requisite heft was not. “It wasn’t going anywhere,” admits Maya. “We could hear a bigger sound,” concedes Luke. “But the two-piece was a great, weird way of learning what we were supposed to do. Now we do things in a more conventional way we can look at it from the weird way and add to it.”

In April last year, in came Rich Clarke on guitar and James Stockhausen on bass: an instinctive evolution. “It felt like the songs were that big anyway,” says James. The ease is summed up by Rich when he says: “We had our first rehearsal in my flat at the time. Maya brought her kit round and set up in the kitchen.” Still more so when he adds: “It’s kind of weird talking about it. You never have to think like that any more.”

Clearly, expansion hasn’t meant loosening a tight bond. Quite the opposite. “We meet up two or three times a week,” says Luke. “Mainly band stuff, unless we’re going to a gig together. Or getting drunk.” “My dad asked me ‘Are they your friends or is it just business?’” says Rich. “What would be the point of being in a band if you’re not friends?” Popping the ‘What was the last track you listened to?’ question helps explain the attraction. “A blast from my childhood: Stevie Ray Vaughan,” says Luke. For Maya, Rich and James respectively the Stones’ ‘Let It Bleed’, ‘Turnstile Blues’ by Autolux and “something by The Datsuns”. Despite James being the only Rascal with no time for Prince, that random selection reveals a shared love and loyalty towards something whose death knell has been falsely sounded countless times. “Guitar bands aren’t that good at getting famous,” says James, “but at least it’s guitar bands doing it properly. I thought the synth-pop thing was dying out but it’s really f*cking hanging on. Why not do something different?”

Between this interview and taking their rightful place headlining a night in the Fleece’s Best of Bristol season, the band will be attempting to cement that “something different” in the studio. “We’re in the process of learning there,” says Luke. “We want to do it properly – if it takes a few more times, that’s fine. It needs to be a little bit wrong. But mostly right.” As Rich elucidates, “we want it to sound gritty but also professional.” And thence from the studio to their clear natural environment, the gig. Or, more accurately, the show. “If you’re on a stage,” says Maya, “and given that platform to perform, then do it. Don’t just sit there.”

SCARLET RASCAL & THE TRAINWRECK HEADLINED THE FLEECE’S BEST OF BRISTOL NIGHT ON SAT 6 AUG. FFI: WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/SCARLETRASCALANDTHETRAINWRECK

Copyright Julian Owen 2011