The Polyphonic Spree - The Heavy Heavy Monster Sound

--------------------

STARSANDHEROES takes in THE POLYPHONIC SPREE experience with frontman TIM DELAUGHTER

Tim DeLaughter is a wanted man. Not by the police (at least, we don’t think so). Not for crimes against laundrettes – although heaven help whomever has to wash 24 multi-coloured robes every night. Not even – and this comes as some surprise – on account of his brazenly cheeky appropriation of a fair portion of Wayne Coyne’s schtick. None of the above. In fact, The Polyphonic Spree’s overwhelmingly triumphant new album Together We’re Heavy has the nation’s media in such a lather, that Team Fly find themselves actually queuing to speak to the relentlessly, almost supernaturally cheery Polyphonic Spree singer outside the upstairs bar at Shepherd’s Bush Empire.

"What’s his name? Chris Miles?" asks DeLaughter amenably as a BBC microphone is waved in front of his face. He’s ever obliging, trotting out station idents in his softened Texas drawl, for a Radio 1 DJ he’s clearly never heard of: "Hi Chris, I’m Tim from The Polyphonic Spree, and I just wanted to say thanks for the best six months of my life". He’s a good liar, certainly. Getting into the light-hearted spirit of the occasion, 6music are running a competition to guess the combined weight of all two score PS members – together they’re heavy, geddit? – and there is much enthusiastic chatter about the variously-coloured Spree ribbons given to all punters on arrival at the venue (a bargainous 94p on eBay at the time of going to press).

There’s an unmistakable carnival atmosphere as we wait, not harmed at all by Har Mar Superstar’s sporadically entertaining portly-Prince-in-pants routine chugging away around the corner. We finally manage to collar DeLaughter (rhymes with "daughter" – how many times?) in a thoroughfare backstage corridor. Having lost their deal with 679 Recordings last year, DeLaughter and associates decided to start their own label, Good Records Recordings (positive vibes all round, then). Mustn’t it cost a fortune to come out on tour? "Oh yeah, I put a second mortgage on my house just to do this trip," he says matter-of-factly, as if risking one’s entire security on a musical whim were the most normal thing in the world. DeLaughter admits it is "excruciating – really tough" to tour with such a huge number of people, but any pain caused is kept well hidden. "Street musicians make more than we do, but we’re gonna get there one day!"

Last night, The Polyphonic Spree returned to Camden for another gig at the Barfly – where they played their first UK show in 2002 – and received the kind of rapturous reception usually reserved for boybands by Fruit Shooting-up teenage girls. Leaving aside the obvious logistical minefield revolving around fitting so many berobed bodies onto such a relatively small piece of floor (they bolted an extra bit to the front of the stage), DeLaughter laughs at the memory: "It's good to be back in the old sweaty box again! It’s extremely intimate – definitely another way to see The Polyphonic Spree."

DeLaughter seems quietly vindicated that he has come to this after his previous band, never-quite-were grunge popsters Tripping Daisy, imploded in 1999. "I thought one day I was gonna have this group – I knew it would happen but I thought I'd be a much older gentleman. I didn't think about clothes, I was just more interested in creating the sound that was appealing to me." He imbues the word "sound" with sufficient onomatopoeic pizzazz, and has such a childlike shine to his eyes, that all potential cynicism simply drains away. There’s something in the air, and it’s catching.

The Empire is a far more fitting venue for The Spree: the legacy of London’s music hall past is evident in its ornate fittings and overhanging balconies, perfect for TPS’s cavalcade of harp, horns, formation dancing choir, guitars and lunatic piccolo (seriously), all led on their merry journey by bouncing, grinning, inspirational master of ceremonies Tim DeLaughter himself. Oh, and did we mention the town crier, who has the already arms-raised crowd shouting "Together we're heavy!" before the band invades the stage in a technicolour (they’ve ditched the all-white, as recent pictures will show you) explosion, leaving us half-expecting Charlton Heston to show up with a pile of stone tablets? Or at the very least, Jason Donovan? Well, now we have.

Together We're Heavy is a conscious continuation from 2002 debut The Beginning Stages Of…, right down to TWH's first track being prefixed "Section 11". Much as some smokers look at every subsequent cigarette as if it were an extension of their very first drag, DeLaughter had this very much in mind. "That was the agenda from the very beginning, yeah. The very first show we played was called 'The Beginning Stages Of…' – I knew it was gonna [be] a sonic journal along the way, and that one record would always continue to the next record. But it hopefully won’t cause cancer!"

On the evidence of tonight's performance, The Polyphonic Spree's never-ending album (not to mention their ever-growing presence) is more likely to cure cancer than cause it. You want highlights? There are many. "Two Thousand Places" sets a new possibly unreachable bar for dynamic, symphonic pop; early classic "It's The Sun" fair blows the roof off as its chorus accelerates off over the horizon; new single "Hold Me Now" grabs Belle & Sebastian's "Lazy Line Painter Jane" and spins it 'til it's giddy; and a rumbunctuous encore of "Soldier Girl" leaves a room full of beaming, sweating punters stumbling for the exits and fully expecting to emerge at the gates of heaven. No, really – there's something in the air…

Charlie Ivens

Originally published in The Fly magazine August 2004 issue