‘It’s about heading into the night to search for the person that you think you might’ve missed out on being… but what you find is some bruises in the morning…’

Louis Eliot – picture: Chris Floyd

Nineties cinematic pop band Rialto are back with a brand-new album, Neon & Ghost Signs – their first record in 24 years.

Fronted by singer-songwriter, Louis Eliot, the group split up in 2002, but reformed in early 2023 and played a handful of comeback shows, including the Shiiine On Weekender indie festival in Minehead and a couple of London dates.

Following on from the success of those gigs, Rialto signed a deal with independent label, Fierce Panda Records, and are releasing their third album, which is the follow up to 2001’s Night On Earth, this month.

Neon & Ghost Signs sounds like a natural step on from its predecessor, which flirted with moody, Bowie-like electronica and Duran Duran-style ‘80s pop, as well as the dramatic, widescreen influences of John Barry and Ennio Morricone, which were all over Rialto’s 1998, self-titled debut album, but it also explores some new territory.

Comeback single and album opener, No One Leaves This Discotheque Alive, is a big statement of intent – over handclaps and a pounding disco groove, a lascivious Eliot is on the prowl in a nightclub, playing “the hound of London town, where the sheets are stained with gold.

It’s like a darker, sleazier cousin of Sophie Ellis-Bextor’s Murder on the Dancefloor.

The song was partly inspired by Eliot leaving behind a long-term relationship to immerse himself once more in London nightlife – a theme that has always played a large part in the band’s music.

There’s an urgency and a celebratory feel to a lot of the songs on Neon & Ghost Signs – this is down to a near-death experience Eliot had six years ago, when he was rushed to hospital for emergency surgery while on holiday in Spain.

“What you might think is if you have a very close to death experience you want to start looking after yourself,” he says. “I just went chasing full speed after my youth. I was just like, f*** it, I might not be here next week, so I’m just going to dive in!”

I Want You is a glitter-soaked, glam rock stomp, and there’s more epic disco on the shimmering, ABBA-flavoured, Taking The Edge Off Me, with its cascading piano and soaring strings.

The edgy and European-sounding, Put You On Hold, is John Barry-meets-the-Bee-Gees, while Cherry is delicious, futuristic robo-funk that struts the same catwalk as Bowie’s Fashion.

There are some reflective moments amidst all the dancefloor shenanigans. The album’s gorgeous title track, which is cocooned in warm, pulsing synths, is a bleary-eyed, comedown ballad that’s one of the best things Eliot has ever written – an ‘us against the world’ love song, like 1998’s The Underdogs.

Sandpaper Kisses is another relationship ballad, but it’s about love gone wrong:“Sandpaper kisses, stinging on your lips. The one you want to hold in your arms is slipping from your grip.”  

Eliot juxtaposes the barbed lyric with a charming and nostalgic tune that has echoes of ‘50s instrumental rock and roll duo Santo & Johnny, complete with a great, twangy guitar solo.

‘There are some reflective moments amidst all the dancefloor shenanigans. The album’s gorgeous title track, which is cocooned in warm, pulsing synths, is a bleary-eyed, comedown ballad that’s one of the best things Eliot has ever written’

The atmospheric and romantic ballad, Remembering To Forget, is so beautiful that Scott Walker could’ve sung it, while second single, the glam strut of Car That Never Comes, is another of Eliot’s songs about escaping and driving through the city under the cover of night – it can be parked alongside The Car That Took My Love Away, from 2000’s mini-album, Girl On A Train, and Drive from Night On Earth.

In an exclusive interview, Eliot speaks to Say It With Garage Flowers about writing the new album, and shares some of the influences and inspirations that shaped the songs on Neon & Ghost Signs.

“I genuinely think this album is the best one,” he tells us. “It’s a grown-up record but perhaps not a graceful one…”

Q&A

When we last spoke, in January 2024, after Rialto had reformed and played some comeback shows, which included some new songs, you said you were hoping to make a new album… Well, now it’s here and it’s being released by Fierce Panda Records…

Louis Eliot: Yeah – the new songs went down well live and Simon Williams from Fierce Panda was at some of the gigs, which was great… I was going to say he jumped on board, but he moved slowly but assuredly… (laughs). I immediately liked Fierce Panda – Simon and I got on, and he seemed to have the right attitude.

So, really, it was finishing off something that was already started. Some of the new songs were written since we spoke last year, but most of them were written in the last three or four years, and even further back. A couple of the songs had been knocking around for a while, but they felt like they fitted. There’s been a lifetime between this album and the last Rialto one, but what a luxury to have.

You told me you hadn’t originally set out to make a new Rialto album, but that the songs you were writing had more in common with Rialto than your solo work or the songs you’d done with your band, The Embers... So, was it a case that Rialto reformed by accident because the songs you’d written dictated it?

Louis Eliot: I’d say that’s true – it was a combination of different things coming together at the same time, and it just made absolute sense for it to be Rialto. I just felt that the songs were revisiting the same world but 20-odd years later, and I’ve got a slightly different perspective, and people have probably got a different perspective of me. A lot of it is about searching for thrills, isn’t it? But it’s also about heading out into the night to search for the person that you think you might’ve missed out on being… but what you find is some bruises in the morning…

A few years ago, you had a near-death experience in Spain and ended up in hospital, which made you re-evaluate your life. Some people decide to take it easy after a health scare, but it made you want to get back there and make the most of it while you still can, didn’t it?

Louis Eliot: There was definitely a feeling of that. It was quite a traumatic thing… It’s funny, but, after a few months, I felt pretty much like I’d recovered, and those clichés, like ‘life’s not a rehearsal,’ were resonating pretty deeply, so there were certain things in my life that I changed at that point. So, I dived in and I found myself back in the city at night, exploring and looking for something, although I’m not sure what…

The song Car That Never Comes is about hanging on for someone or something to carry you away. I think there are a few songs on the record that visit that feeling.

Car That Never Comes is the latest in a series of songs you’ve written about escaping at night by car… I’m thinking of Drive and The Car That Took My Love Away

Louis Eliot: I need to come up with some new ideas… (laughs). I think the first imagery that I came up with for the song was the headlights going past the window… Songs find themselves as you write them – you’re often not sure what they’re about and then it starts becoming clear… That song is about hanging on for something to happen, although whether it does or not…

The phrase ‘waiting for a car that never comes’ could also mean that someone is no longer famous – the car that used to pick them up to take them somewhere glamorous isn’t coming anymore…

Louis Eliot: Absolutely. I think there’s a feeling of the inevitable in that song – you know the car isn’t coming, yet you still hang on for it. That’s the double-edged sword that goes with that hedonistic pursuit.

The album has some of the classic Rialto hallmarks we know and love – the title alone, Neon & Ghost Signs, is very Rialto – but you’ve also added in some other influences, like disco and glam rock.

The first single and opening song, No One Leaves This Discotheque Alive, doesn’t mess around – we’re plunged straight back into that seedy world of London nightlife that Rialto inhabit, but it sounds like the dark, sleazy cousin of Murder on the Dancefloor by Sophie Ellis-Bextor…

Louis Eliot: I’m happy with that. I think that song came from when I was working on something for a friend, but I ended up using it for me. What can I say? I can definitely hear what you’re saying about Murder on the Dancefloor… I was thinking of ‘80s Leonard Cohen, but backed by Benny and Bjorn! I wanted a song that had that idea of knowing you’re on thin ice but you’re going to do a pirouette anyway! I hope it’s amusing – it’s not too dark and I hope people find some humour in it.

‘In a lot of ways, glam rock and disco are connected – they just wore different trousers…’

The album wouldn’t be a Rialto record if it didn’t have the things that people liked about Rialto from the past, but there wouldn’t have been a whole lot of point doing it if I hadn’t brought new things to it.

Louis Eliot

I think it feels like the natural successor to Night On Earth, even though it’s 24 years on.. You were exploring Bowie influences on that album, and the song Cherry on the new album has that feel – it reminds me of Fashion... It even has the ‘beep beep’ line in it…

Louis Eliot: I probably shouldn’t have done that, but it made me laugh. I shouldn’t laugh at my own jokes… I’d written this line: ‘you’re standing in the headlights, sleeping with the wrong types…’ When I was singing it, I found myself saying, ‘Beep, beep…’ It’s clearly a nod…

If you sit down with a record and try and rip it off, it’s never going to have any magic… In my head, I was actually doing something that was a bit Talking Heads when I was making that tune… Lyrically I was trying to do something that was impressionistic – like snatches of conversation at a party.  I was trying to paint a picture and put you in the scene, and, of course, there’s a Bowie influence, but I was thinking of Prince if he’d hung out with Bowie…

Put You On Hold has a disco feel, but a cinematic, European sound too…

Louis Eliot: I think you’re right – I agree.

It’s Barry Gibb meets John Barry…

Louis Eliot: (laughs): It’s John Barry-Gibb! That’s a good name for a band.

As well as disco, there’s some glam rock on the album: I Want You and Car That Never Comes

Louis Eliot: Yeah. In a lot of ways, glam rock and disco are connected – they just wore different trousers… One followed the other really. I think there’s a spirit in both of them that crosses over. That glam shuffle is just a great groove, isn’t it?

One of my favourite songs on the album is the title track, Neon & Ghost Signs, which is a classic Rialto ballad – an ‘us against the world’ love song that’s set against the backdrop of a rain-soaked, nocturnal London. I think it’s one of the best songs you’ve ever written…

Louis Eliot: Thank you. It’s one of those songs that came quite easily. Ghost signs, as you know, are those faded advertising hoardings that you see on the side of buildings, so Neon & Ghost Signs is about looking forwards and backwards at the same time – it’s the thrill of the neon and the draw of the night ahead, but you’re carrying the past with you. I was trying to write a song that isn’t just about a fleeting love – it’s somehow about a bigger love that comes about the older you get. It’s when you realise you have a connection with people and it’s about your experiences with them, regardless of whether you’re in a relationship, or whether you’ve moved on… All of that stuff counts and should be respected. I guess it’s coming to terms with that and singing the praises of those connections you have with people – even if it’s just on a night out. And I don’t just mean a romantic connection – it can be platonic… It’s the stuff that counts.

It’s also quite possibly the first pop song to mention ‘Nytol…’

Louis Eliot: (Laughs). Yeah – I want a sponsorship deal from them.

Remembering To Forget is another great song on the new record – it’s a ballad that’s so beautiful Scott Walker could’ve sung it… It has a lush, romantic ‘60s feel and then you make it a Rialto song by singing about vapour trails in the city… That’s a nice contrast…

Louis Eliot: Thanks – I hadn’t thought about that. I’m happy with that. It’s quite a sad song but it also has a funny feeling about it – it has something…

Sandpaper Kisses is a highlight for me – it’s another ballad, and it has an atmospheric ‘50s sound, with twangy guitar. I could imagine Richard Hawley singing it…

Louis Eliot: I didn’t set out to write a ‘50s crooner ballad, but, of course, it’s got some of that, but it’s offset with a drum machine. I’m really glad you like that song because I was toying with putting it on the record or not, and I’m now glad I did because it’s gone down well. People have said it’s like Little Anthony & The Imperials or Patsy Cline.

So, are you pleased with the album? You should be… it’s great…

Louis Eliot:  I am. I genuinely think it’s the best one. I know bands always love the latest thing they’ve made, but I think it’s a good album and that age has helped me write a better record. I’ve had more experiences and I’m better at writing somehow. And why not? Leonard Cohen carried on writing great records…

It’s an unalloyed look at being middle-aged. It’s a grown-up record but perhaps not a graceful one.

It has its tongue in its cheek at times, and it’s also celebratory… It’s occasionally melancholy and reflective, but not self-pitying…

Louis Eliot: It’s like a mid-life crisis, but I like it! It’s not packed with obvious jokes but I hope people can sense that it’s not taking itself too seriously and neither am I. I think I do have a melancholic strain in my writing…

You’re playing some UK gigs this year, including some supporting Sleeper. Will you be going to discotheques after the shows?

Louis Eliot: Why ever not?

Neon & Ghost Signs is released on April 25 (Fierce Panda Records).

For Rialto live dates, visit www.rialtomusic.com

‘I’m not a fan of very emotional singing. It’s more interesting to have a robot sing a heartfelt melody’

Usually found hiding behind a pair of dark glasses, Doviak is the mysterious and ice-cool multi-instrumentalist and producer who is best known for his work with Johnny Marr – he plays guitar and keys in Marr’s band and has co-produced the former Smiths guitarist’s four solo albums: The Messenger, Playland, Call The Comet and Fever Dream Pts 1-4.

In the past few years, Doviak, who is based in Manchester, has been releasing his atmospheric and often cinematic, electronic-heavy solo songs on digital platforms, as individual tracks or EPs. His music is inspired by ’80s synth-pop, electro, Cold War espionage – on his social media profile he calls himself cyberspace’s foremost purveyor of ‘Spywave’ – European travel, John Barry and gothic rock.

Say It With Garage Flowers had a clandestine meeting with him to discuss his solo work, his thoughts on new tech such as AI and immersive audio, working with Marr and why decentralised collaborations might be the way forward.

This interview will self-destruct in 10 seconds…

Q&A

Let’s talk about your most recent solo release –  The Vanguard EP.  It doesn’t sound as spywave as some of your previous material… 

Doviak: In my head it is, but in reality it’s not.

One of the tracks, Turn It Over, has a pulsing, ’80s electronic feel – it’s like Howard Jones… 

Doviak: Yeah – there’s all sorts of stuff referenced. Sometimes I’ll be playing around with a riff and it happens to be electronic and I’ll just go with that. I might try and make it something that you might even hear on the radio…

With a pop sensibility….

Doviak: That’s the idea. It’s fun doing all these mysterious tracks, but if nobody listens to them, it’s a bit demoralising. That’s not to say I’m doing things just to get radio play, because that doesn’t really work either. I like pop. To me, Turn It Over is trying to be an intellectual version of a really crass pop track. All of the lyrics in 90 percent of pop stuff are silly that’s what they’re meant to be and that’s why they sell, but if you like lyrics, they’re not very engaging. I like the idea of having that production but with something more quirky.

‘Turn It Over is trying to be an intellectual version of a really crass pop track. All of the lyrics in 90 percent of pop stuff are silly’

 

The Courtyard, which is on the EP, is darker and a much more cinematic track…

Doviak: It’s an electro-goth thing.

It reminds me of Depeche Mode…

Doviak: That comparison comes up a lot – people always say it. The funny thing about that is I never listen to Depeche Mode – I hardly know any of their stuff, but that’s what it’s supposed to be like – dark, low vocals, and moody with goth reverb.

There’s a song on the EP called Price of a Soul – I’m surprised Depeche Mode haven’t written a song called that…

Doviak: Yeah – trying to find any title that some fucker hasn’t used is almost impossible.

Wait For The World is an anthemic ballad – it has synths on it, but is more guitary and less electronic than some of your other songs…

Doviak: That’s right – the song dictated it. With some songs, there is a core tune – with melody, lyrics and chords – that you could play on an acoustic guitar, and it works in its own right, but with others, the production is so integral that it wouldn’t be much good on one. With Wait For The World I thought it was better to follow slightly more traditional instrumentation than a heavily electronic one – it just seemed to work better that way. It’s a really old song – about 10 years old. I just had to get it out eventually.

Would you say the EP is themed?

Doviak: Only because it’s electronic, but, also, because, in my head, the lyrics are about people’s relationship with the internet, social media and new tech. It’s this thing that’s been foisted upon us  – this revolution – and we’re learning how to navigate this world.

Are you a fan of AI in music?

Doviak: I’m not a fan of it but I recognise the fact that it’s not going to go away and its presence is only ever going to increase. It’s like better than the devil you know…

That’s a Kylie song…

Doviak: (laughs) Exactly – that’s a good reference… If AI is a tool that you can leverage to improve what you’re doing and make it more interesting then why not? I don’t think you should get rid of the human element, but some aspects of it will disappear. There will always be people who want that human element – I think that’s fundamentally why people like music. Anthropologists argue that singing is like bird song – it’s a way to show your sexual proclivity.

 ‘I’m not a fan of AI but I recognise the fact that it’s not going to go away and its presence is only ever going to increase’

Maybe singing evolved before language, but I’m not saying that’s the case… There’s an emotional element that connects with you for some reason – some people like certain genres – but some of it is more instinctive. That will always be there, but some people don’t really care about music – it’s just a thing in the background. They’re not going to care if it’s AI music playing in a coffee shop, but there are a hardcore group who will and they like real people… Some elements of pop aren’t just about the music you’re buying into the personality and the imagery as well…

I have no problem if you run an AI music program and you get an idea from it. If the whole thing sounds great and you want to put it out, whatever, but I think it will be a long time before that happens frequently.

What are your views on Dolby Atmos and immersive audio? Some producers see it as a gimmick – do the possibilities interest you?

Doviak: It is gimmicky but, again, it’s another thing that will be around… I don’t know if you know this, but Apple Music prioritise your stuff in their store if you have Dolby Atmos mixes…

Because they want to sell headphones…

Doviak: Yeah. It not’s a bad thing, but I don’t think it’s particularly necessary.  Look at how must people consume music – 70 percent of it is through a tiny, tinny speaker on their phone. Some people have amazing systems to sit and listen to, which is great, but that’s the minority…
I’m not against it, but it’s time, and how much time do you want to dedicate to learning how to mix in Atmos? If someone wants to mix it for me, great… I might look into it at some point, but it’s not a priority. I’m not against it.

You worked on a recent track called Ghost In The Room with a group called Moontalkers. How did that come about?

Doviak: It was straightforward – they just got in touch out of the blue and asked if I’d be interested. It seemed like fun and it was great to just do vocals on something rather than having to produce all the music too. Plus it’s interesting and fun to be working with younger musicians.

Your song Venus Eye Honeytrap was inspired by the story of Mata Hari, wasn’t it?

Doviak: Yes – that’s right, but the lyrics have their own subtext. I think she was accused of being a spy, but I don’t think she was probably. The song was actually more inspired by noodling around, but the overall aesthetic of it is just a distillation of the things I like – The Horrors and any slightly dark, gothic band, but I don’t like to stray into true gothic territory – it has more of a rock element.

It sounds like Gary Numan doing a theme song for a spy film…

Doviak: I think that’s a good description.

Your singing voice reminds me of Numan at times…

Doviak: On certain songs, it’s a deliberate choice to get more robotic than soulful. If I get the melody right and I have a very emotive piece of music with a tune that’s quite sweet, I want to upset that with something that’s a bit colder and dispassionate – to me it’s the right side of melodrama, because I’m not a big fan of very emotional and heartfelt singing generally. Sometimes it’s amazing, but it can get on your nerves a little bit… it just isn’t my thing. For me, it’s more interesting to have a robot sing a heartfelt melody.

Which is essentially what Kraftwerk did…

Doviak: Sure.

‘If I get the melody right and I have a very emotive piece of music with a tune that’s quite sweet, I want to upset that with something that’s a bit colder and dispassionate’

Alicia Vigil of L.A. rock band Vigil of War guests on Venus Eye Honeytrap. How did that come about?

Doviak: She’s a friend of a friend, who I worked with. I was in town, and we did some writing – we kicked around some ideas. Whether anything will see the light of day, I’ve no idea, but it was fun. I don’t do much writing [with other people] outside of my work with Johnny. I’ve done production and mixing, but not a great deal of writing.

Would you like to do more?

Doviak: Yes – that’s what I enjoy the most. The production and the writing are kind of tied together to some degree… I like it a lot more than mixing and engineering, which I don’t really enjoy. They all have positives and negatives, but the thing I really like is writing – it excites me the most by far.

There is an underlying Cold War theme to a lot of your solo music and it’s very cinematic. Have you written soundtracks? I know you’ve been involved with music for adverts…

Doviak:  Yeah – I have done, but not for a while. I’ve been too busy – there was a point where I was doing The Messenger album with Johnny and touring… We had a lot of production stuff to work out, because it was the first time we’d really gone out, and I was doing a lot of work for TV adverts. It started to take off, but I had to make a choice, so I did the live thing because it was more fun, and I got to see the world, play gigs and work with Johnny, which was great. I tried to do both for a little bit, but it wasn’t really happening – something was going to suffer…

Would you like to do film soundtracks? Some of the tracks you’ve done with Johnny, like Walk Into The Sea and Rubicon, are more like soundscapes than traditional rock or pop songs, aren’t they?

Doviak: Absolutely – that’s right. I like to have some sort of balance – if I was going to see a gig, what songs would I want it to contain? It’s nice to have a general thread of something running through it. Sometimes you want to hear a couple of up-tempo, catchy, straightforward songs with choruses, but then you might want a lull with some emotive stuff. Not everyone wants that – a lot of the audiences respond better to the up-tempo, catchy singles and they jump around and sing the lyrics – but I think they’re also impressed by the soundtracky stuff, and the people that like it really like it.

Where does your love of the Cold War come from?

Doviak: Probably from watching films. It’s not something I’ve always been into. I had a whole bunch of songs kicking around for many years, but with no real defining element to them, but at some point I thought it would be fun to do something John Barryesque – I’d liked Portishead and the idea of doing melodramatic orchestration. There are particular harmonies that are unique to that genre – there’s an element of melancholy. It’s not so much sadness, but more of a bleak melancholy…

Like Barry’s soundtrack to The Ipcress File

Doviak: Exactly.

Johnny and the band used to walk on stage to the theme from The Persuaders

Doviak: We did actually – that’s right. It’s a good piece of music.

Did you write your Enemy Numbers EP while you were travelling around Europe?

Doviak: Exactly – the impetus came from different places, and I liked the idea… If I’d had the budget, I could have done themed videos for the cities they were related to – Berlin, Paris, Hamburg, Prague… I had some brief ideas while I was on the road, but I didn’t have the time to expand on them until I got home. The emotion still remains – a set of chords and a simple melody, but that’s enough and it’s something to build on. If it’s the right thing, it sparks my imagination, and I can go back and build on it with that in mind. I’m lucky to be able to travel, and it’s a great way of doing it.

I see so many cities and I got to thinking what would it be like if you were a guy listening to a shortwave radio by yourself, in a room at night, with a different identity – it could be a strange, lonely experience. That’s why there’s a sadness to the music – slightly bleak and melancholy, but without being overly melodramatic.

Did you write Century in Montmartre, Paris?

Doviak: Yes – the chords and the basic tune. The idea is that there’s some guy in a room by himself, feeling melancholy and looking over the rooftops of Paris. It’s particularly scenic round there.

Do you have a home studio?

Doviak: Yes – it’s basic, but it’s enough for me to do what I need to do.

So, you record all your solo stuff there?

Doviak: Yeah, but Jack [Mitchell – Johnny Marr’s drummer] played on a couple of the early songs, Solid State Machines and Enemy Numbers, so we recorded his drums elsewhere. I’d do that again, but it hasn’t been convenient and for some of the recent songs it hasn’t really been necessary.

Do you have a big collection of vintage gear, like old synths?

Doviak: Not as big as I’d like – one of the reasons is because I have to travel so much and the other is because software is getting so good. Some of it sounds as good as the real thing – certainly by the time you’ve done various things to it production-wise and put it in the mix. We have a whole bunch of stuff in Johnny’s studio – a Juno, a Moog, a Yamaha SS30…

Johnny explored electronic music with Bernard Sumner in Electronic and then when he had his band The Healers he went back to more traditional rock, blues and psychedelic stuff. Do you think working with you on his solo records has made him experiment with more electronic sounds again?

Doviak: With the more electronic tracks like Spirit, Power and Soul, and Armatopia, that’s what he wanted to do – he already had those ideas. There may be one or two songs where I’ve said, ‘You could put a dirty Juno bass on there…’ or something. I can’t remember – he remembers that stuff brilliantly.

You’ve been putting out your solo songs and EPs digitally. Any plans to make an album one day?

Doviak: Yes – it’s a nice way of tying tracks together thematically and having them all released at the same time. From a more cynical point of view, it’s also better for marketing, or so I’m told – it’s easier to get more people on your side, like the press, if you’ve got a product out. I’d like to do it but my time’s limited…

Apart from during Covid, you’ve been so busy with Johnny’s albums and touring…

I know… and during Covid we were writing the last album, which has 16 tracks on it. We wrote about 20. In an ideal world, I’d have a situation where I could bang each of my tracks down in six months to a year and do an album. I think it’s more consistent that way.

What’s the process like when you and Johnny work on tracks together? Does he give you demos or do you both come up with ideas in the studio and layer stuff up?

Doviak: It’s kind of a mixture – we might have ideas for a song and once we start working on it, it can take twists and turns and end up nothing like the original – in my mind, the music is 75 percent Johnny, something like that… I tend to do more of the drums, the bass and keyboard stuff.

‘What if you were a guy listening to a shortwave radio by yourself, in a room at night, with a different identity – it could be a strange, lonely experience. That’s why there’s a sadness to the music’

Have you got a lot of unreleased solo stuff?

Doviak: Yes, I have. I’ve always written and recorded, and it’s 80 percent ready to go. That final 20 percent is a killer sometimes – you have to mix it and master it, and that takes a lot of time. It’s very beneficial to have another pair of ears on it. When you’re doing everything yourself, you’re very close to the song and you can’t see the wood for the trees. That’s where collaboration comes in handy. If you’re in a band, you kick ideas around in a rehearsal room… The one thing I don’t like about writing by myself is that it’s quite isolating and boring – I like being with other people, talking and having a laugh while I’m working.

I really like your song Don’t Follow – it has ‘80s synths on it and electronic drums. It reminds me of Duran Duran when they did The Chauffeur, as well as Howard Jones and Ryuichi Sakamoto…

Doviak: That one’s had a good response – mainly because I think it’s more of an identifiable genre.

It could’ve come off the soundtrack to Drive

Doviak: Exactly.

One of my favourite songs of yours is Russian Dolls – it’s very dramatic. Do you remember a ‘90s band called Rialto, who were influenced by John Barry and Ennio Morricone? It reminds me of them… 

Doviak: I remember the name…  I’d had the song knocking around for ages – the idea and a piano riff. It got tweaked over time – I struggled with the chorus – but it’s very John Barry / Ipcress File. It’s spywave, with almost Persuaders-like guitars.

Where did you grow up?

Doviak: In Cambridge.

There’s a spy connection there right away…

Doviak: Exactly.

Were you always in bands when you were young and how did you end up working with Johnny Marr?

Doviak: I was always in bands until I moved to Manchester, but I had a lot of friends in music, and I was involved with it. It’s a long story – I had a friend in a band in Manchester called Alpinestars, who said: ‘We’re going on tour – why don’t you come along just for a laugh?’ I worked as a guitar tech, which I’d never done. One of the guys in the band knew Johnny vaguely and we got in contact, met up and played some guitar – it went from there.

So, what are your plans for the rest of the year?

Doviak: I like the idea of working out a way of doing decentralised collaborations. I don’t even know what means yet, but it sounds good, and if you say the word ‘blockchain’ with it, people will probably think it’s interesting.  It’s if you have an idea and you put it out there online in some format – you could choose people to work with, or maybe anybody could do it and develop it in their own way.

And you’ll be doing another record with Johnny?

Doviak: Probably soon – he’s been crazy busy. It’s been nuts.

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For Johnny Marr tour dates and info, visit:  https://johnnymarr.com/