Wannabe drummer. Englishman in Vereeniging. ’80s pop star. Marketing-communications company boss. And now, over 20 years after breaking onto the South African music scene with his band The Helicopters, Bernard Binns is back with his second solo album.
Recorded in England, where he now lives following a brief French sojourn, ‘Outside Looking In’ finds the musician in a reflective mood, his new songs recapturing the indie-pop sensibilities of his ’80s calling card ‘Mysteries and Jealousy’, while evoking the melancholy Englishness of Tears For Fears or The Lightning Seeds’ Ian Broudie.
The obvious first question is the title: ‘Outside Looking In’. Is this how you feel at the moment?
Having had quite a peripatetic existence over the last couple of years, I do at times feel more like an observer rather than a participant. I encountered this less in France where the pace is generally slower and the people less parochial — hard to believe that out in rural Gaul.
I’m quite happy with the way things are turning out for me in England, especially as far as my fledgling music career is concerned, but personally I guess I’ll always be seen as an interloper. They say it can take a few generations to be accepted out in the English countryside — and I was born here for God’s sake!
In fact, the title ‘Outside Looking In’ is really my state of frustration of silently observing situations steamrolling out of control across the world and realising how little I can do to influence the inevitable outcomes.
You were born in the UK but had your music success in South Africa. Did your work with the Helicopters give you any clout in the South African industry? And, consequently, has it been more difficult cracking the UK market?
I was five years old when I arrived in South Africa so I’ve always seen myself as a South African musician, although my musical roots are intrinsically Brit pop/rock. Being a Vereeniging-based band and having a debut mega-hit single (‘Mysteries and Jealousy’) took the industry by total surprise.
Although I was feted by journalists and A&R types, it was still very much a ‘closed shop’ as far as the greater industry was concerned. I guess our love for catchy unadulterated pop and affiliation with UK New Wave didn’t bode well with the lefty Jo’burg Jamiesons set and the Cape Town Crossover Crew.
However, when we continued to have more and more hit singles, became TV staples and filled concert stadiums from Potgieterus to Pofadder, you’d be surprised at the amount of industry sycophants who came out of the woodwork.
As far as the UK is concerned, I’ve always been excited, but realistic about debuting here and initially took a tabula rasa tack. However, people here are really keen to know about my past success in South Africa and this has definitely put me in good stead from a credibility point of view.
Why did you leave South Africa? And have you received any criticism for “turning your back on the country”?
I was spending more and more time in the UK with my marcoms company and it made sense to open an office here to take advantage of business opportunities, both locally and on the continent.
Having lived in Jo’burg for years and becoming increasingly bored with the city, it also made perfect sense to live somewhere else and grow personally.
Yes, I must admit electric fences, daily hijackings and escalating violence played a role in my decision but I’ve had no criticism (to my knowledge) of my “turning my back” on the country.
I’m also in the process of rolling out a PR/marketing campaign in SA for the release of the new album — apparently airplay is picking up nicely and I’ve done quite a few radio interviews so far which have all been very positive.
How does the situation there compare to what you’d got used to in South Africa?
I suppose it’s quite comparable statistically taking into account the size of the population and the amount of radio and TV stations and venues. While the national charts are generally dominated by extremely young acts (20 is seen as ancient in the mainstream pop fraternity and there seems to be a never-ending supply of them), there are loads of regional and alternative radio stations who play other genres spanning hip-hop to prog to thrash and a huge amount of venues and festivals that feature more ‘mature’ acts.
But the competition is enormous and one has to work really hard — or be a tabloid-fodder-crackhead a la Pete Doherty — to be noticed. I must admit though that people here to tend to be much more accepting of older musicians and even some of the lesser-known acts from the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s still have strong followings and sell out shows regularly.
Because it’s so extremely cut-throat, one has to try and devise ways of getting heard, even if it means pushing for success on more regional and Net-based radio stations. Being ‘indie’ is cool and potentially very lucrative but it takes a lot longer than a major signing. Having said that, my music’s slowly being picked up by some of the more obscure, regional and Net-based radio stations so hopefully it will eventually permeate the mainstream and I’ll have chart success in due course — I’m quite confident I will if I stick to what I’m doing and am not swayed by trends.
Did your new surroundings influence your new songs in any way?
I must admit the area around here can have a strange effect on you — and it’s not the local cider talking. I live in a tiny village between Avebury and Stonehenge which has the most incredible history: Saxon graves, Ley Lines, Roman roads and crop circles abound. There are also forests with trees thought to be over 1000 years old.
When I was recording at NAM Studios in the nearby village of Holt, I would travel the back roads through some very magical, but somewhat sinister-looking, areas which gave me the idea for the song ‘A36’ — which is about reconnecting with nature.
Also, the fact that Julian Cope, Sting, Midge Ure, Reg Presley (of The Troggs and ‘Wild Thing fame’) et al all live around here explains a lot.
Which of your songs — new or old — are you most proud of?
Apart from ‘Mysteries and Jealousies’ which started the whole thing off; I think structurally a song called ‘Love Breaks Down’ from the last Helicopters album ‘What Affair’; ‘Canada Moon’ on my first solo album ‘Physiognomy of the Soul’ featuring Bruce Cassidy, the amazing horn player from the ’70s band Blood, Sweat & Tears; and ‘Los Glaciares’ from ‘Outside Looking In’, my first attempt at a latino-flavoured song which I think turned out rather well.
What‘s a typical day like for you?
Lounging around and listening to music while gulping down Cristal champagne and freshly shipped-in Nova Scotia lobster.
Well, more like maintaining a company, travelling, promoting the album, gardening, housework — and quaffing lots of good red wine, the occasional concert and the odd bit of metal detecting!
You spent much of the ’90s working on your marketing-communications agency. Why did you opt for this instead of starting a new band?
I needed another creative outlet and a challenge after disbanding The Helicopters and it turned out to be a very good move indeed.
I always realised that the band would have a finite run as such. I’d been on the road with The Helicopters for years and I think musically I’d achieved much of what I’d set out to do within the confines of a pop band.
I balked at the thought of spending the next decade re-hashing old stuff or worse — which sadly happens to many musicians — having to resort to being a cover band to make ends meet.
I guess that the frustration from being excluded musically from the international community due to the country’s pariah status prior to 1994 also contributed to the band’s demise — we were restricted to touring South Africa and Namibia. Yup, ‘Mysteries & Jealousies’ enjoyed a three-month run at the top of the Namibian charts.
During those marketing years, did you continue to feel the pull of music?
I was constantly dabbling with the odd bit of songwriting and having the odd jam or gig with friends. But it was only towards the end of the ’90s when I realised that I missed writing and recording too much to leave it alone any longer. Thus, my collaboration with an old acquaintance, Adrian Levi from the ’80s band Ellemental which resulted in my first solo album [2000’s ‘Physiognomy of the Soul’].
I must admit I get totally engrossed in the whole album-making process so once I’ve finished I can’t bear to listen to it for some months afterwards. It’s only now that I’m actually enjoying what I did on ‘Outside Looking In’.
It’s not a question of overt narcissism or whatever, it’s a case of coming to terms with the final product — warts at all, as many musicians are hyper-critical and hear all the recording ‘glitches’ unknown to most listeners. It’s still early days with the new album but I’m already itching to get back into the studio.
Six quickies
What’s the best thing about South Africa?
Boerewors, the weather and Mountain Sanctuary Park in the Magaliesberg.
And the worst?
Manto Tshabalala-Msimang
What’s your strongest memory of your time with The Helicopters?
Falling through the stage at a gig in Swakopmund — the band laughed so much they actually stopped playing.
What’s the most embarrassing CD in your collection?
Patricia Lewis’ debut album — I wrote one of the tracks!
What’s the one song you wish you’d written?
‘Woman in Chains’ by Tears for Fears
Where could I find the best beer in your area?
Tesco?
- This article originally appeared on iafrica.com
Nils van der Linden 