Standing at a street corner in downtown Liverpool, Paul Smith is reflecting on the day his world wobbled on its axis – the day he lost his little red notebook.

“I’d left the book behind after a sound-check,” says the Maximo Park frontman, of the lyrics-crammed leatherbound note-pad he carries everywhere. “When I discovered it was gone I was in a proper state. We had a show that night. I’d never gone on stage without my note-book before. It wasn’t like I needed to read the lyrics – my memory isn’t that bad. But it had been with me since the start. I felt lost.”
Luckily, the missing keepsake turned up – a fan stumbled upon the book and, realising how important it was to Smith, handed it to a bouncer. Lesson-learned, the singer jotted the lyrics into a second pad so that, nowadays, there’s always a spare notebook to hand. “I still prefer the original, though,” laughs Smith. “Seeing all those jotted down lyrics reminds me of when I was starting out with the band. All my favourite memories are in those pages.”
Still, Smith is aware nostalgia has its limits. As Maximo Park, arguably the most compelling brit-rock force of the past five years, unleash their second album, Our Earthly Pleasures, Smith, a gaunt, fidgety character, has embarked on the rather radical step of dispensing with his trade-mark cowlick. For reasons largely obscure – one UK newspaper suggested a retreating hairline – Smith has taken to wearing hats (on stage he romps around in a bowler, tonight he’s donned a more modest woolly number).
Smith is inclined to shrug off the hair-loss rumours – the way he tells it, he was due an image makeover. And besides, it’s not as if he was that attached to the cow-lick in the first place. “The haircut was supposed to be an ironic gesture,” he says. “However, everyone thought I was making some really profound statement. In my own mind I was referencing the ‘50s – I was trying to do something retro. The general public concluded I was a bit odd and thought the haircut was really important to me. Why the bowler hat? If you’re going to dress up for your audience you might as well go to a bit of an effort. Bowler hats are too long out of fashion. It’s time for a comeback.”
Changes are afoot in the band’s music, too. Two years on from Mercury nominated debut A Certain Trigger, Maximo have overhauled their silvery punk-pop sound – Smith describes Our Earthy Pleasures as a harder, more intense album, “Smashing Pumpkins by way of the Smiths”.
As to the title – some have taken Our Earthly Pleasures to be a reference to the Maximo frontman’s supposed hedonistic streak. In Britain, the red-tops have painted the singer as a devoted debauchee with a cultivated appetite for post-gig binges. Smith says he doesn’t recognise this person. “I’ve actually had to calm down since I joined the band,” he says. “The real wild stuff happened before I got into music. It’s true I have been in some extreme situations on tour and thought, “Bloody hell, this would make a great song’. That said, I’ve got responsibilities now. You can’t go completely crazy if you’ve got to make a show.”
By normal rock and roll standards, in fact, Smith’s idea of ‘going crazy’ feels quite tame. “There was that time we bought loads of death metal t-shirts in Slovakia,” he says, asked to recount a wild on-the-road encounter. “We were the only English-speaking band on the bill except for the Fun Lovin’ Criminals. I mean, seriously – The Fun Lovin’ Criminals! I hadn’t realised those guys were still around. Well, apparently they’re big in Slovakia. After the show, we went into the crowd and spent the day hanging out with Eastern European metal fans. It was a right laugh.”
The singer was last to join Maximo Park, which might be thought peculiar considering the degree to which his nervy, be-suited presence appears to define the band. In fact, when he hooked up with Maximo, they were in the process of falling apart. Two years of largely aimless flailing had seen the group rise no further than the status of local novelties. Then, the girlfriend of drummer Tom English saw Smith singing along to Stevie Wonder’s 'Superstition' in a nightclub. “They asked if I wanted to try out,” recalls Smith. “It came completely out of the blue. They looked a nice bunch, so I said yes. We haven’t look back since.”
As Maximo 2.0 took shape, record companies started clamouring for their signature. In the end, Maximo plumbed for Warp Records, the Sheffield stable known for its avant-garde electro acts. “Warp isn’t a label, it’s a community,” says Smith of the decision. “The guys behind it are incredibly passionate about music. The thing that unites us with those other Warp bands – people like Aphex Twin – is a deep commitment to what we are doing.”
Besides, Maximo Park aren’t exactly antediluvian guitar freaks. In fact, their tastes run surprisingly eclectic. Smith, for instance, is on a major hip-hop tip at the moment: “Because I’m in rock band, there is an assumption that I shouldn’t listen to other kinds of music. People are struck that I ‘m a big fan of producers like The Neptunes and bands like Clipse. The fact is that if you want to hear great production and really experimental song-writing, American hip-hop is where it’s at right now. What The Neptunes are doing with technology is simply incredible.”
Tonight Maximo are in Liverpool to perform at the opening of a Virgin Megastore. One of the hardest toiling bands in indie, they are infamous for their gruelling schedules. Where other indie outfits rarely look beyond America and the UK, Smith and company regard the entire world as their stage. “We want to bring our music to everyone,” says Smith. “We’ll go everywhere. In fact, we have gone everywhere: to Russia, to Japan, all around Europe – wherever people want to listen to us. It sounds slightly corny but we do it for the fans.”
Our Earthly Pleasures is out on Warp. Maximo Park play Temple Bar Music Centre, May 21.