Dry Dry Dry


This article is part of the free ebook Need to Know, which can be read on this website or downloaded here.


Some songs invade your subconscious and refuse to budge. You find yourself humming them on the way to work without even realising it. In 1994, the Scottish band Wet Wet Wet’s cover of the Troggs’ hit Love Is All Around, recorded for the soundtrack of Four Weddings and a Funeral, was such a tune. But after going to number one in 15 countries and staying at the top slot in Britain for an astonishing 15 weeks, the song finally—and, for some, thankfully—faded from view.

Two albums later, the group collapsed. After selling 15 million albums (must be their lucky number) and notching up 25 UK top 40 singles, singer Marti Pellow announced that he was leaving. A heavy drinker for years, Pellow had become increasingly depressed and isolated. In 1997, he had turned to the darkest substance he could think of: heroin. He was hooked in a week. After collapsing in a hotel room in London in 1999, he sought treatment for his addiction, and today he is off drink and drugs and relaunching his career.

I met him in a hotel in downtown Brussels last week. Sporting t-shirt, jeans and a tan, he looked relaxed and contented. He had reason to be: Close To You, the first single from his solo album Smile, had just entered the British charts at number 9, and he was booked to perform on Top of the Pops two days later. Although the album is not a million miles away from the sound of his former group, there’s an undeniable maturity to the songs. I asked him if leaving Wet Wet Wet had loosened him up.

‘Well, I was in the band for nearly twenty years,’ he replies in his Glaswegian burr. ‘And I was part of the writing team. But the beauty of going solo was that there were a lot of people willing to work with me who could take me in different directions.’

Chief among these was Chris Difford, guitarist and singer with Squeeze, who had written a track on the Wets’ Picture This album. Now Pellow, a huge Squeeze fan, asked Difford to write lyrics for his new material. He lived in Difford’s house for about a year and a half, during which time they wrote over 150 songs together.

The singer also returned to Memphis, which he had visited early on in his career, and worked with legendary band-leader Willie Mitchell, who had produced work by his idol, Al Green. Going clean gave Pellow renewed energy. ‘I had been in a very dark place,’ he says. ‘But when I left behind the drinking and the drugging, I rediscovered my passion for music. I became a maniac for creating songs: the structures, the arrangements, even the producing.’ As he talks, his eyes light up like the proverbial schoolboy’s in a sweet-shop.

The resulting album is a mix of songs recorded in various studios, mostly mellow piano-based pop with the occasional Memphis flourish. I ask if he’s pleased with the way the first single has been received. ‘Enormously,’ he says. ‘I’m very proud of the whole album—if it was up to me, I’d be delivering it to the shops myself—so naturally I’m happy if others like it. But I understand that I don’t have a God-given right to the same kind of success I had with Wet Wet Wet.’

Nevertheless, Pellow hopes to be around for some time to come. ‘I just love singing,’ he says. ‘And as long as there’s a place in the market square for me, I’ll continue to do it.’ He reveals that an entire album of country songs is waiting to be released, and that he and Difford are working on a pet project entitled London Life, a musical set in contemporary London. ‘I’m thinking of asking [Trainspotting author] Irvine Welsh to do the story,’ he tells me. ‘Just throw it at him and see if he likes the idea.’

Pellow says he spent years worrying about Wet Wet Wet’s lack of credibility. ‘You know, a lot of people thought, ‘Oh, there’s that band with the pretty-boy singer—why the fuck is he always smiling?’ Perhaps it would have been better if I was the Elephant Man: “Such a beautiful voice, isn’t it a shame…?” He catches my expression and laughs. ‘But I’m over that now, honestly.’

We chat for a little more, and he tells me why he loves Tony Bennett, the Eagles, Destiny’s Child and Limp Bizkit. He’s modest, articulate and very charming. After the interview, I go home and give some songs from his album another listen. And now I can’t get the damn things out of my head.

First published in The Bulletin, June 2001

Jeremy Duns