- Music
- 08 Jun 07
Belfast scenster Geoff Topley has quit throwing mid-gig wobblers and is back with a new sound and a new name, Cruz.
"I think I just needed a little break.”
We can excuse Geoff Topley wanting some time off. For almost a decade now – as the guiding hand behind Foam, Foamboy and (see what he’s doing here?) The Foamboy Arkestra – the Portadown songwriter has been putting in Stakhanovite-like shifts at the local music coal face – releasing album after album (“I’m officially the most prolific unsigned act in Ireland,” he half smiles, half winces. “I’ve recorded more tracks than Van Morrison.”), gigging like a dervish, and producing new material at a rate a damp Gremlin would blanch at. Topley’s unwavering dedication has provided a powerful rebuttal to those who see nothing but half-hearted dilettantes and wastrels strutting along our cities’ stages. In fact, in his own quiet, unassuming way, he’s the indie ethic made flesh.
However, even the most zealous fanatic is entitled to have moments of doubt, and with continued label disinterest leaving him prone to the odd dark night of the soul, it’s hardly a surprise that at the turn of the year Geoff found himself steering into a creative brick wall.
“I’d painted myself into a corner with Foamboy,” he admits. “I made a video for the BBC, but it turned out to be something I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Then I played a really disastrous gig, which ended with me lying on the floor shouting, ‘I’m definitely never doing this again.’ It was a pretty black moment to be honest. Shep (local promoter, Gerard Shepard) rang me the next day to see if I was okay. He thought I’d had a breakdown.”
We’ve been here before with Geoff – finding him flattened by apathy, or sickened by his own perfectionism – but you sense that this occasion saw him come closer than ever to pawning his synths and peddles on eBay. Luckily for us, though (if not for his own peace of mind), retirement didn’t suit. And before long Topley was finding inspiration close to home.
“I saw the local band And So I Watch You From Afar,” he says. “And they blew my head off. I really thought they were so far above everyone else it was unbelievable. They were really inspiring. They got me thinking musically again. I’d always loved God Speed and Explosions in The Sky, so I thought it might be good to try something a bit post-rock, instrumental. And it was liberating. I’ve totally regained my enthusiasm.”
In time-honoured Topley tradition, this new mood issued in a name change. However, a certain F-word was noticeable by its absence. Remerging as Cruz, and ditching his vocals from the tracks in the process, Geoff used his Damascan turn as opportunity to make himself up again.
And the result could well be the best record he has written to date. El Angel Azul is a beautifully eloquent record – full of soothing lulls and gale-force crescendos. Most strikingly, for a series of songs written during a bleak personal experience, it’s roaringly optimistic.
“I laid myself out on a plate pretty much with the Foamboy stuff,” he says. “If I’d made a Foamboy album at the start of the year, it would have been a pretty harrowing thing to listen to. Because I didn’t have to worry about writing lyrics, all I had to concentrate on was writing music – it was cathartic. So, it’s a melancholic record, but I don’t think it’s depressed. In fact, I think it’s beautiful.”
And, for this most productive and indefatigable of artists, it seems a good Cruz has done him the power of good. A new Foamboy album is already in production, and there is talk of hitting the stage again. Which is a relief. Because I suspect that the day Geoff Topley stops producing records, plague, war and pestilence will ensue.
“I’ve reconciled myself to the fact that I’ll be doing it until the heart monitor packs up,” he laughs. “When push comes to shove, you have to want to do it for the music’s sake. I’m always looking for that elusive deal but it isn’t the be all and end all. Really it all boils down to enjoyment. I want to have a blast now – write great songs, play a good show. The lucky break may never come along but it doesn’t stop me from doing it. It can happen, look at Snow Patrol.
The first ever Foam gig was with Desert Hearts and Snow Patrol. It shows you how bands can go. We’re all still plugging away – one made it, one’s nearly there, one hasn’t got there yet. And that’s okay. That’s how it should be."