He's outside indie and inside the music hall, but really wants to smash his piano and leap off the stage into the mosh pit. The uncategorisable Duke Special explains himself and his new album to Kevin Courtney
IT TAKES a special kind of artist to step outside the safe boundaries of rock'n'roll and take the road less travelled, the one that goes through the carnival, the circus, the music-hall and the old cemetery, and leads you straight into the dark side of the soul. Peter Wilson is one of the special ones, the kind who is not content to settle for playing in a meat-andpotatoes combo, and who doesn't believe in doing things by the rock book.
Since Wilson metamorphosed into Duke Special, he has dazzled and confounded in equal degrees - who else in Irish indieland could pull together a 60-piece orchestra to perform at his gigs? Who else could pull out all the stops for a musical and theatrical extravaganza in the Spiegeltent and avoid coming to a tragicomic end? Who else could challenge the Divine Comedy to an onstage duel and live to tell the tale? Pop music may be under threat from the demons of downloading, but if the makers of music are to fall, at least the east-Belfast bard is planning to go out with a flourish, whistling an old-fashioned tune as he is led to the gallows.
Since he stepped out into the footlights in 2003, Duke Special has been like a Scarlet Pimpernel of pop, stealing hearts and minds by stealth, and pulling off some daring musical capers along the way. His debut album proper, Songs from the Deep Forest(an earlier album, Adventures in Gramophone, comprised his first two EPs), won him no end of acclaim, but when he was recording the follow-up, I Never Thought this Day Would Come, the Duke issued his strongest-ever challenge - to himself.
"With this record, I deliberately wanted to throw the net wider than I had on the the previous one," says Wilson, "because the second album can be tough, cos you can easily run out of ideas. But I'd made other records in the past before I made my first proper Duke Special album, so I didn't worry about it too much. But I also didn't want to be stuck in a rut in any way, so I deliberately threw myself at it, and got a few curveballs thrown in my direction."
One curveball was thrown by ex-Suede guitarist Bernard Butler, who co-wrote one track with Wilson, These Proverbs We Made in the Winter Must End.
"I'd heard McAlmont and Butler and really loved those songs, they were like old Northern Soul. I think the idea of going into a co-writing situation with Bernard Butler would kind of scare the crap out of me, and it did. But when I went in, he started knocking out the piano chords and I realised we weren't going to even catch a breath; we just went for it. It was so satisfying to know that I could do something like that."
The elusive Wilson also managed to flit between studios as far flung as Wapping in London, Champaign in Illinois and Culleybacky in Northern Ireland to complete the album. Keeping it all sounding coherent was producer Paul Pilot, who pushed his charge into digging deeper within himself. The beauty of the opening track, Mockingbird Wish Me Luck, proves that Wilson's delving bore fruit, and Digging An Early Gravebrought up some darker stuff along with the nuggets.
Also adding their skills were local boys Iain Archer, a former member of Snow Patrol, and Foy Vance, who Wilson reckons "sings like an old black guy". Instead of being intimidated by such talent, however, Wilson felt inspired and energised. Much the same way he did when he discovered his parents' old 78s when he was younger.
Now, he has a family of his own - three young boys with his artist wife. Holding together a fast-growing musical career while bringing up a fast-growing family is all in a day's work for the Duke. He's been described as "the fucked-up ringmaster of a broken-down circus, the lead dancer in a forgotten ballroom of ghosts . . . and the first on his knees in an old-time revival tent", but spend just a short time in his company and you realise that that's only the half of it.
"I think it's very much a case of not wanting to be boxed in. I have always shuddered at the thought of being seen as just an emotive balladeer. That's just a part of what I do - the slower, emotional songs - but I also want to smash my piano into shreds and throw a guitar on and crowd-surf. I wasn't sure who I was trying to follow to do that, but then somewhere along the way I discovered Tom Waits and Nick Cave, people for whom there's a definite element of drama. David Bowie too, there's a theatricality in there. And Neil Hannon is someone who I've always thought of as doing something outside the usual."
Add in the likes of Harry Nilsson and Randy Newman, and it's plain that Wilson's not singing from the same sheet as his indie contemporaries. Of all Wilson's heroes, the Divine Comedy singer is probably the one closest to him in age and old music-hall style.
The pair have become mates, although their friendly rivalry is soon to erupt into a full-on public spectacle. Next Tuesday, Hannon and Wilson take the stage at Vicar Street in Dublin to duke it out musically for Amnesty International (see panel). Both men are sharpening their swords (and their chords) for this piano-based battle royale. There will be solo songs, there will be duets, there will be blood . . .
Once he's vanquished his nemesis, Wilson is ready to take his own music to greater heights. He's already built up a sizeable fan base in Ireland, the UK and Europe, and being signed to Universal will certainly help him in his bid to take his carnival of curiosities to far-flung places.
"I desperately want to keep growing as an artist and to create original art. And I think originality comes from absorbing a whole lot of influences and internalising them, digesting them, and then letting them come out of your own mouth. For me, I'm so interested in growing, almost being oblivious to the trends around me, just trying to stay outside of every genre. And that's where, I think, you can create your own place.
"Sometimes I'm scared that I'm outside what's current and relevant, and then other times I'm really pleased I'm outside all that. Cos there's no rules for me then."
When he starts a tour, says Wilson, he feels like the author on the opening night of his new play, full of first-night nerves but also filled with anticipation. For his upcoming Irish tour, starting in Waterford on November 20th and finishing up in Derry on December 3rd, he has assembled a cast of seven musicians to whip up a big, bold carnival of sound. Expect Wilson's latest onstage extravaganza to be even more phantasmagorical than before. Although he may sometimes have been short of resources, he's never been short of ambition, and he is resourceful enough to overcome most obstacles and see his vision through to the end.
"When I started as Duke Special, about seven or eight years ago, I made the decision that I could either wait for this mystical record deal to come along, or else I could see myself as an artist right now and just start doing it. Just be it. And that's my life now. I'm never not going to be an artist. I may never be a millionaire, but I'd rather be really satisfied with what I'm doing than be rich."
• I Never Thought this Day Would Comeis out on October 17th on Universal. His Irish tour begins on November 20th. Duke Special v The Divine Comedy is at Vicar Street next Tuesday October 14th
• Listen live: Hear Duke's new album exclusively at www.irishtimes.com/theticket
Duking it out
Duke Special v The Divine Comedy kicks off next Tuesday night - and both sides are spoiling for a fight
"I love listening to Peter's music," says Neil Hannon from The Divine Comedy. "He's really astounding, terribly creative - almost too creative for his own good. He's always coming up with hare- brained schemes, and I always end up saying yes to them.
"I'm the old stager and he's the young pretender, an who's been nipping at my heels for too long and has to be put down. We're gonna do some funny stuff on the night, wait and see.
"There will be two grand pianos facing each other on the stage, and it will just be the two of us facing off against each other. We'll be performing together in a round of one-upmanship. It's an ivory-tinkling contest to the death - the white gloves are off and the dinner jackets are on. It's not quite a celebrity deathmatch, more of a minor indie celebrity deathmatch. The contest will end only when one of us is impaled on the other's genius.
For his part, Peter Wilson says: "I just don't want this to spill over into the next generation. This needs to be settled now. He's got a lot more albums out than me, which he keeps bringing up. But for me it's not quantity, it's quality, obviously. And with the second album, I've got a few new moves. Like the Karate Kid, I feel like I've got a few things hidden up my sleeve."
