Mass Appeal

Once upon a time, rock stars were an otherworldly and aloof breed; a personal word to fans was rare – and to be honest, in some cases, the less they said was often the better. The Church's Steve Kilbey went with that role. “Be secretive, play the part. But gradually, you turn into the thing you hate,” as he explains. So came his often rambling, often abrasively honest, often near-poetic, blog The Time Being – along with announcements and pronouncements on his Facebook feed – giving him an utterly direct and personal connection with his followers. “The blog made me learn the incredible power of telling people everything. Everything!” he adds with a zealot's enthusiasm.

This occasionally causes consternation. Business aggravations with The Church's American distributor led to a recent online rant that has passed into folklore. “I just feel frustrated when things are fucked up, and rather than just sitting there I started kicking and screaming.” In high dudgeon Kilbey threatened to wind up the band and walk away from it all. He later climbed down a bit, with demands for an audit of the US company now in train.

But it's always been in the fractious nature of The Church over their 30-year history that any gig could be the last. True now, as ever. “Do we still argue? Are you fucking kidding?” the singer laughs darkly. “Tim [Powles – drummer] suggested one day we let the audience in and just have us sitting onstage having the endless arguments we always have. That can sometimes be far more interesting than actually have us play,” he half-jokes.

Matter of fact, it's happening now. A national tour with Simple Minds and Devo will see The Church doing the 'greatest hits' set for arena audiences and A Day On The Green attendees, but punctuated with what is being billed as an 'art rock' show at The Factory. So Steven, what is an 'art rock' show? “Ha! Maybe you should tell me,” he sighs – slightly wistfully, slightly sardonically. “Ah, okay, there's a bit of controversy in the band at this moment as to what exactly it is going to be. Some of them, er, some of us,” he corrects himself, “say it should be a flat-out, wild, feedback-screaming, pounding thing. And some of us are saying it should be more delicate; anything off the beaten track. It will be a contrast to the Devo shows – in whatever way we eventually decide.”

He clarifies and philosophises: “Sometimes the problem with democracy is that nothing fucking works. And in The Church's democracy, all it takes is one person to say no and it's off the agenda. And what's more, it doesn't get discussed any further. A veto rule – it makes us as strong as our weakest link. And that link can change from moment to moment…”

Said veto can sometimes be his own, even of the band's best-known songs: “For myself, I can sing Under The Milky Way and you're safe. It's an eternal kind of song – a child could sing it. An old man or woman can sing it, and there's no contradiction. But Unguarded Moment,” he sighs heavily again, “I feel ridiculous; I feel I'm indulging the audience. To me, that song just feels very naïve and feels full of youthful… mopeyness. I refused to sing it for a long time. And honestly, I'd be happy to never sing it again.

“But it's like cigarettes. Oh, just have one – just sing it once. Then since you did it once, you do it again. And soon you're back on a pack a day. And you're hooked. Even if you may well still hate the fact you are.”

When & Where:
Thursday 6th The Factory