The beachfront cafes of a small East Sussex coastal town might not seem an obvious source of inspiration for a major rock act. But for Keane, one of the biggest British bands of the past decade, nothing beats a blast of sea air.
In their formative years, the group used to cycle to the sleepy resort of Bexhill-on-Sea from their homes in nearby Battle, looking for teenage kicks in tea rooms like the Sovereign Light Cafe. Now, as grown men, they have come full circle.
Their superb new album, Strangeland, is a vivid celebration of small-town life. Tapping into the homely, communal spirit that has sustained them since their breakthrough eight years ago, it does for the English seaside what Springsteen once did for the Jersey shore. "We used to ride to Bexhill to sit on the beach or kick a football around," says drummer Richard Hughes. "It was never sunny, so we'd usually end up in a cafe, sheltering from the rain. In later years, we'd spend hours trying, in vain, to attract the attention of any woman vaguely within our age group.
"People can be very condescending about England's small towns, but we think of them in a magical way."
Strangeland is Keane's fourth full album and it finds them on top of their game. Having kept a relatively low profile since 2008's Perfect Symmetry, they are now returning to the anthemic, piano-driven rock that powered their Brit-winning debut, Hopes and Fears.
With singer Tom Chaplin's soaring vocals adding drama to songwriter Tim Rice-Oxley's haunting keyboard melodies, this is the classic Keane of early hits such as Somewhere Only We Know and Everybody's Changing.
"This album does bear similarities to our first," admits frontman Chaplin. "A few years back, we felt we had to react against the success of Hopes and Fears. So we became self-saboteurs. We went out of our way to avoid sounding like Keane."
That approach produced some interesting results: a dark, introspective second album, Under the Iron Sea; and the shiny Euro rhythms of Berlin-made Perfect Symmetry. Now, however, Keane have gone back to doing what they do best — with a couple of crucial changes.
Recorded in Rice-Oxley's home studio in East Sussex, Strangeland is the first album to feature new bassist Jesse Quin, transforming a slightly awkward, guitar-less trio into a more rounded rock quartet.
It benefits, too, from the presence of a new producer, Dan Grech, who recently worked on the debut album by American siren Lana Del Rey.
"We could have gone for someone tried and tested, like Brian Eno," Tom explains. "But we wanted someone younger and hungrier."
Hope for the future
With all of Keane now happily married — and Rice-Oxley and Quin proud fathers — the album captures the 30-something rockers at a pivotal point in their lives. Songs such as Sovereign Light Cafe are tinged with nostalgia, but there is hope for the future, too.
"The album looks at our lives to date," says Chaplin, 33. "We've all had our ups and downs, and your dreams never turn out quite how you expected."
That much was certainly true for Chaplin who, in 2006, spent five weeks being treated for drink and drug addiction. Now clean, he credits his wife Natalie for helping him keep his feet on the ground.
"In truth, my problems were there for a long time," he admits. "It's the devil inside — the same thing that enables you to go onstage and be an extrovert singer. If you use it the right way, it's a good thing.
"If you let it get the better of you, as I did, it becomes a monster you can't control.
"I still have a terrible battle between the person onstage, who sings these emotional songs, and the person who wants to go home and hide. I struggle to find the middle ground.
"My wife is great, though. We met before the band took off, so she isn't swept up by the supposed glamour of the music business. She loves coming to gigs, but she's very down to earth."
As a privately-educated, impeccably-mannered band who, according to Rice-Oxley, are "embarrassingly middle class", Keane have taken a lot of stick from inverted snobs who claim they are "too posh" to rock.
"I've never understood that, but we've moved past it," Chaplin says, politely of course.
"Considering our backgrounds, we're actually quite rebellious. There was no music scene in Battle when we were growing up, and, against the wishes of our loved ones, we did something different."
If the barbs once bothered them, they now seem perfectly happy with their lot and — as the new album shows — their small-town roots.
And if their recent concert a stone's throw away from their teenage haunts in Bexhill is anything to go by, their long-awaited comeback looks set to be a triumph.
"Nobody knows what's going to happen, because we've been away," Hughes says, cautiously. "But we're excited to be back.
"We went through our first three albums without stopping. Now we've got our breath back, and we're ready to get back on the bus."
— Daily Mail
In their formative years, the group used to cycle to the sleepy resort of Bexhill-on-Sea from their homes in nearby Battle, looking for teenage kicks in tea rooms like the Sovereign Light Cafe. Now, as grown men, they have come full circle.
Their superb new album, Strangeland, is a vivid celebration of small-town life. Tapping into the homely, communal spirit that has sustained them since their breakthrough eight years ago, it does for the English seaside what Springsteen once did for the Jersey shore. "We used to ride to Bexhill to sit on the beach or kick a football around," says drummer Richard Hughes. "It was never sunny, so we'd usually end up in a cafe, sheltering from the rain. In later years, we'd spend hours trying, in vain, to attract the attention of any woman vaguely within our age group.
"People can be very condescending about England's small towns, but we think of them in a magical way."
Strangeland is Keane's fourth full album and it finds them on top of their game. Having kept a relatively low profile since 2008's Perfect Symmetry, they are now returning to the anthemic, piano-driven rock that powered their Brit-winning debut, Hopes and Fears.
With singer Tom Chaplin's soaring vocals adding drama to songwriter Tim Rice-Oxley's haunting keyboard melodies, this is the classic Keane of early hits such as Somewhere Only We Know and Everybody's Changing.
"This album does bear similarities to our first," admits frontman Chaplin. "A few years back, we felt we had to react against the success of Hopes and Fears. So we became self-saboteurs. We went out of our way to avoid sounding like Keane."
That approach produced some interesting results: a dark, introspective second album, Under the Iron Sea; and the shiny Euro rhythms of Berlin-made Perfect Symmetry. Now, however, Keane have gone back to doing what they do best — with a couple of crucial changes.
Recorded in Rice-Oxley's home studio in East Sussex, Strangeland is the first album to feature new bassist Jesse Quin, transforming a slightly awkward, guitar-less trio into a more rounded rock quartet.
It benefits, too, from the presence of a new producer, Dan Grech, who recently worked on the debut album by American siren Lana Del Rey.
"We could have gone for someone tried and tested, like Brian Eno," Tom explains. "But we wanted someone younger and hungrier."
Hope for the future
With all of Keane now happily married — and Rice-Oxley and Quin proud fathers — the album captures the 30-something rockers at a pivotal point in their lives. Songs such as Sovereign Light Cafe are tinged with nostalgia, but there is hope for the future, too.
"The album looks at our lives to date," says Chaplin, 33. "We've all had our ups and downs, and your dreams never turn out quite how you expected."
That much was certainly true for Chaplin who, in 2006, spent five weeks being treated for drink and drug addiction. Now clean, he credits his wife Natalie for helping him keep his feet on the ground.
"In truth, my problems were there for a long time," he admits. "It's the devil inside — the same thing that enables you to go onstage and be an extrovert singer. If you use it the right way, it's a good thing.
"If you let it get the better of you, as I did, it becomes a monster you can't control.
"I still have a terrible battle between the person onstage, who sings these emotional songs, and the person who wants to go home and hide. I struggle to find the middle ground.
"My wife is great, though. We met before the band took off, so she isn't swept up by the supposed glamour of the music business. She loves coming to gigs, but she's very down to earth."
As a privately-educated, impeccably-mannered band who, according to Rice-Oxley, are "embarrassingly middle class", Keane have taken a lot of stick from inverted snobs who claim they are "too posh" to rock.
"I've never understood that, but we've moved past it," Chaplin says, politely of course.
"Considering our backgrounds, we're actually quite rebellious. There was no music scene in Battle when we were growing up, and, against the wishes of our loved ones, we did something different."
If the barbs once bothered them, they now seem perfectly happy with their lot and — as the new album shows — their small-town roots.
And if their recent concert a stone's throw away from their teenage haunts in Bexhill is anything to go by, their long-awaited comeback looks set to be a triumph.
"Nobody knows what's going to happen, because we've been away," Hughes says, cautiously. "But we're excited to be back.
"We went through our first three albums without stopping. Now we've got our breath back, and we're ready to get back on the bus."
— Daily Mail
