Grahn explains as he continues to lovingly inspect
Smoovin’. “These influences are not new. But we put
them on the side a little bit, because our label at the
beginning of our career complained that we were
too smooth, and not rock’n’roll enough for them.
We got hurt by that, so we tried to be tougher than
we actually are. But we have such a solid
foundation nowadays, that we’re not afraid to stray
from it. It’s like a kid walking further and further
from their parents. I think it’s strengthened us.”
Over in the Indie/Punk racks, Irengård has dug
out Sonic Youth’s Dirty Boots. While both Royals
are thoughtful and amiable, the short-haired
guitarist is more introspective than his brightly
optimistic, towering
frontman. Pondering a recent
gig he attended by former SY
guitarist Lee Ranaldo, he
reveals deep ambitions you
wouldn’t guess from his
band’s full-on showmanship.
“I saw Lee Ranaldo solo
back home in Malmö,” he
says, “and he’s just walking
around making beautiful
sounds with the guitar,
dragging it behind him on
the floor and hanging it from
the ceiling. It could so easily
turn into a fucking freak-
show. But it sounds really good,
and he knows what he’s doing.
So I’m getting this album.”
Would Irengård like to push his
own playing that far out, when not on
Royal duty?
“There’s pretty much no time for
doing other stuff. But yeah, I would
love to see how hard it is and prove
it’s not just noise, by doing it myself.
I have the same thing with painters
like Jackson Pollock: dudes who just
fling paint with their brushes, and
whatever happens, happens. That’s
the feeling I had withOne listen to Club Majesty, Royal Republic’s
fourth album, clues you in to their disregard for
genre convention. Not since the Stones’ Some Girls
in 1978 has a rock band stoked a disco inferno
with such gusto. The straightforward, slick,
screaming vocals and guitars of RR’s debut We Are
The Royal (2010) had already been complicated
by its grunge sequel Save The Nation (2012), the
acoustic reworking of Royal Republic And The
Nosebreakers (2014), and 2016’s We ek e n d Ma n , which
included the jerky post-punk of My Way and the
widescreen AOR of Any Given Sunday. Club
Majesty’s first single, Fireman & Dancer, retains
Grahn’s capacity for pure rock vocals – but then
throws in a sax solo and
shamelessly daft choruses.
The band have fought
progressively for this freedom
to sound any way they want.
As Grahn declares on another
infectious statement of intent,
Can’t Fight the Disco: ‘I need colour
in my life... So no more rock’n’roll/
Give me glitter for a change...You
rock harder, we shine brighter.’
“Most people who know
Royal Republic know that we
have musically eclectic tastes,”assers-by keep a respectful
distance as one leather-jacketed
Swedish rock musician boots
another in the balls. Royal Republic’s
singer Adam Grahn incrementally
increases the impact on guitarist Hannes
Irengård’s nether regions as Classic Rock’s
photographer shoots away, Grahn’s sheer
enthusiasm for the task putting their scheduled
morning’s record-shopping with £50 of our cash
momentarily at risk.
Injury averted, the duo descend into the vinyl-
filled basement of north London’s Flashback
Records, where they display similar recklessness,
trampling every rule of rock taste as they
rummage the racks for a unique selection, in
which Kurt Cobain and Ginger Spice both figure.
Flashback’s small, packed basement is divided
into myriad categories, and the tall, moustachioed
Grahn heads straight for Soul and Funk. “This has
got every element,” he says, reverently holding up
Smoovin’ by the Martyn Ford Orchestra. Its sleeve
shows a female saxophonist wearing little more
than leggings. And on roller-skates.
“It’s the saxophone,” Grahn explains, “which I’ve
just started playing, and the woman is smoothing
and grooving. And in our infamous Baby video
from our last record, we were on roller-skates.”
Certainly no one who saw Royal
Republic’s formation-skating in satin
shorts will ever forget it.
“It has a song called Horny,” Grahn
muses. “And Hustle With Every Muscle.
Right, I need to know what this
sounds like...”
Sharing headphones with Irengård
and both guffawing, he soon says:
“I am a little bit disappointed.
I thought it was her playing. But
I think it may be John Lennon’s less
successful brother on the cover here.
[The bespectacled guy is indeed Ford,
strings arranger on classic albums
including Lou Reed’s Transformer and
Phil Collins’s Hello, I Must Be Going!.]Flashbac
k^Records
Islington,^ Londo
nP
THE
£ (^50) R
ECORD STORE CHALLE
NGE
Royal Republic
62 CLASSICROCKMAGAZINE.COM
Words: Nick Hasted Portraits: Will Ireland“Most people
who know
Royal
Republic
know that we
have musically
eclectic (^) tastes.”
ADAM GRAHN