'We live in a celebrity culture. People think it’s easy to create'

"I’m really good. You can tell I’ve done this a lot, right?”

Verdine White has been the bassist with Earth, Wind and Fire for more than 40 years. They have sold 100 million records and he is the only remaining founding member. But right now he is talking with pride about the evasive interview technique that he has cultivated over the years.

I have asked him about Earth, Wind and Fire’s reputation in the 1970s as being one of the more clean-living bands in a hedonistic era. In old clips there’s a great emphasis on spirituality. “With us, that was just kind of a natural thing. I don’t know what other bands did.”

When I react with disbelief, he laughs and says. “I’m trying not to fall into this trap here, you know what I’m saying? I’m not gonna put any other bands down, you know.”

White is guarded, referring to several innocuous questions as “traps”, but there is also a lot of laughter coming through on the poor transatlantic phone connection from LA.

Earth, Wind and Fire was formed by Verdine's brother Maurice in 1969 before there was a word for disco. Hits such as Boogie Wonderland, September and the brilliant cover of Got to Get You Into My Life have proven timeless and found a new audience thanks to the disco resurgence led by Daft Punk and Bruno Mars.

But after the 1970s, the advance of punk rang a death knell for their sound, and Earth, Wind and Fire entered the disco doldrums of the 1980s.

White used this time to work with UK band Level 42 before Earth, Wind and Fire reformed to tour in the late 1980s and fought their way back. “Because we were good, you know,” White says. “When you’re good you believe in yourself. You don’t give up . . . Not much gets me down, as you can tell.”

Music and love

White grew up in Chicago in a house of nine children, with parents who were “very encouraging”. It was a “very warm household: a lot of music, a lot of love and a lot of camaraderie”.

He was drawn to the upright bass when he saw it in the corner of a classroom. He trained classically, got a scholarship to the American Conservatory of Music, and played electric bass around the clubs in Chicago. At 19 he got the call to follow his big brother out to Los Angeles.

Maurice White died in February, having been diagnosed with Parkinson’s in the early 1990s. White speaks with fervour about Maurice’s influence as a brother and musician.

“We wouldn’t be talking if . . .” He pauses. “He created this whole thing. We live in such a celebrity culture. People think it’s really easy to just get up there and create something: ‘I want to be famous some day, I want to create some music’. But these are very difficult things to accomplish. You really take your hats off to people that do it and accomplish it.”

After the diagnosis, the band weren’t tempted to stop, although Maurice retained executive control. “Once we got his blessing to go on, we were able to go on and be strong, you know?”

And now, with his passing, “we owe it to carry on. This was always in the plan anyway. Obviously everyone in the band is very focused. We have a lot of support from the fans and we can feel that when we walk out there on the stage.”

As the last original member of the band, how would White define his role in it? “I would say I’m the heartbeat of the band. I put all my heart and soul in it.” And Maurice? “Well, he was the brains of the band, the creator of the band, the legend of the band, the founder of the band. He was the icon of the band.”

White considers touring a happy obligation. “We sell out all over the whole world . . . They want to see U2, they want to see McCartney, they want to see us. We’re part of that great legacy of artists that people want to see.

"With this year and a lot of the passing of great artists we're focused really in on what really great music is: Glenn Frey, David Bowie, Natalie Cole. "

He gives frenetic performances belying his 64 years. “I’m in really good shape anyway, but I love what I do as you can probably tell.”

He’s still rocking the tassled trousers and sequins. “Yes, I’m still a fashion icon. I’m gonna bring my long hair and my great pants too, you know.”

And the hits are always fresh for him. “I play them as if they’re the first time I’ve played them. And I love the music and I respect the music.”

Even outside the band, White is a man of long-term attachments, having been married for 35 years to Shelly Clarke, a former member of the Ikettes. "Yeah I stick around. I do. You just have to love each other and respect each other."

In recent years, he has recorded with JLo, produced Flo Rida, and performed with fellow Chicagoan Kendrick Lamarr ("he's dynamic"). He initially bats away a question about recent changes in the music industry before obliging. "Well the changes that I've seen are in how people receive music, with streaming and things like that. When you do a concert now, you see nothing but lights from the phone.

“Writers like you, if you’re reviewing the show, you’ve got to send your copy in while you’re watching the show, because the audiences have these phones and they’re doing it at the same time. Everybody’s a reviewer: ‘Oh my God, I love it/Oh my God, it sucks.’ You know what I mean?”

When it’s time to wrap up our chat, White is playful. “I gotta say this was fun.”

Less wary of traps now, he promises all the scandal when he gets to Dublin. “I’m gonna give you all the dirt . . . I just hope you can handle it, you know. We’ll call it a sequel.”

• Earth, Wind and Fire play 3Arena, Dublin, on June 28th