Vinny Peculiar: The Curse of You Know Who

Sixteen albums in, Vinny Peculiar has long since carved out his own peculiar corner of British songwriting, literate, funny, warm-hearted and quietly eccentric, with an eye for the characters, contradictions and absurdities of everyday life. Classic English pop melodies carry the words, the songs always flowing easily even when the ideas take unexpected turns.

His new record, The Curse of You Know Who, finds him as curious as ever, wandering through conspiracy theories, misinformation, alternative realities and modern pop culture, with personal histories inevitably finding their way into the songs.

We spoke to Vinny about the ideas behind the record, how the songs took shape, Katy Perry in space, AI girlfriends and what comes next.

After sixteen albums, the remarkable thing is that the well still seems to be full of stories, characters and strange little worlds. Where did the inspiration for The Curse of You Know Who begin?

Writing in recent years I’ve taken a ‘concept’ and hung stories/ideas on it/them, so with The Curse of VP it was [mostly] conspiracy and misinformation feeding into song titles and angles, so you get alternative beliefs, some of them reimagined and mixed up with my own history. Moon Landing features a former headmaster…and plays with the popular idea of Kubrick’s stage management of the landing. I’m interested in people who flaunt popular wisdom and develop their own realities, ‘Billy Liar’ did a lot of that just to survive. AI Girlfriends work on a similar level of self delusion. Governments are very keen to call out conspiracy theory, there’s always more to it than they’d have you believe…

Your lyrics are obviously a huge part of what makes a Vinny Peculiar song a Vinny Peculiar song. But listening to this album, I’m struck just as much by the melodies and how effortlessly these songs seem to move. When you start a song, what comes first: the story, the words, the melody, or can it be any of those?

Different songs start in different ways, sometimes I’ll have a title and write on acoustic guitar or piano and things happen simultaneously, this was the case with Katy Perry, it started life as a country n western song. The harder edged rock songs are typically developed from riffs beats sounds and such in my home studio. Sometimes I’ll have a title but often I’ll develop the music first, cut it all up to suit. Flat Earth was a bit like that, I recorded several versions….

Katy Perry in Space is a great example. Everyone already has an opinion about Katy Perry going into space, so how do you turn something that is already part of the public conversation into a song that feels like it belongs entirely to you?

Katy Perry well yes, such a bizarre story, and true apparently, I have nothing against her, she’s a great pop writer but I don’t think this was her finest moment. I just tried to gently point out that there’s all this madness and suffering here on planet earth and she’s taking selfies in space on a vanity trip…

The album moves from Katy Perry in Space and AI Girlfriend to Flat Earth, Runcorn Abductions and Moon Landing. There’s clearly a fascination with conspiracy theories and alternative realities running through it. What attracts you to that world?

Its a fascinating world yes, I like to think I’ve retained a certain level of ambiguity in mining these ideas, in part I’m having some fun with it but there is more to it than popularism decrees, that much I do know…

You’ve made enough records now that you presumably know what a Vinny Peculiar album needs to be. Is there actually a formula that you can rely on, or does starting a new album still feel slightly uncertain and unfamiliar?

I’m always looking for ways to deliver albums in a ‘different’ way, I’ll be recording in rural Sweden soon which will spark a whole new ‘vibe’ I like to think. Watch this space, and thanks for having me.

Bleu: Finding Joy in the Shadow of Loss

On Sargeant Pepper Grinder, Bleu turns grief into something bright, melodic and deeply human. The album is both a tribute to friends who are no longer here and a celebration of the people, memories and small moments that remain. Wrapped in the kind of irresistible melodies and harmonies that have long defined his songwriting, these are songs that don’t shy away from loss, but refuse to surrender to it either.

We spoke with Bleu about writing through grief, the strange kinship between sadness and power pop, obsessing over songcraft, and why Sargeant Pepper Grinder has ultimately become a memorial to friendship.

Sargeant Pepper Grinder feels like a very personal record. You describe it as an upbeat meditation on death and a celebration of friends who are no longer here. Was making the album a way of dealing with those losses, or did the songs simply become the place where those feelings naturally ended up?

Making this album was definitely a way of “dealing with” (processing, mourning, etc.) several very deep losses. Writing songs for my own artist project has always been a form of therapy for me, but many of these songs were a particularly palpable example of that. The recording process then became a way to commiserate, heal, and deepen connections with my friends who are still here, many of whom were also very close to Ducky and/or Alex “Scootch” Scutro.

Power Pop has always had this wonderful ability to hide sadness inside bright melodies and beautiful harmonies. On this album, though, the emotions feel particularly close to the surface. How do you find the balance between making something musically joyful and allowing the lyrics to be genuinely painful or vulnerable?

That seeming dichotomy is a hallmark of some power-pop that I’ve always loved. Just as humor helps many of us get through painful experiences, exuberant and tuneful music can help lift us from the valleys of crushing loss. I’ve also learned through therapy that two conflicting feelings can legitimately exist at the same time, and I think that juxtaposition brings a deeper meaning to life. But the main reason this album contains so much of that kind of thing is because I wanted to write music that Ducky and Scootch would’ve liked, and neither gravitated to sad-sack songs!

You’ve always been an incredibly melodic songwriter, but on this album the melodies sometimes seem almost deliberately at odds with what you’re singing about. Do you ever start with the emotional weight of a lyric and then look for a melody that gives it some lightness, or does the music usually come first?

When I write for “BLEU” (“me songs”) I almost always start with lyrics, usually a title with a concept, starting with the hook and moving on from there. In the case of this record though, that was obviously in service of conveying some pretty heavy emotions. I think “melodic songwriting” is just part of my DNA, but there’s certainly plenty thought (craft) that goes into melodic shape and in particular melodic-rhythm, and these songs were no exception. Even when I’m writing something heavy and the emotions are flowing, I can’t help but work the songcraft.

You produced and mixed the entire album yourself. Did keeping that process largely in your own hands matter to you, especially with material this personal?

Yes and no. I’m very open to collaboration, and worked with many talented songwriters, musicians, engineers, and Atmos mixers on this album, most of whom I think would agree that they weren’t particularly “over-produced.” But there was no way I wasn’t going to obsess over these songs, and producing and mixing it myself meant I wasn’t unnecessarily bothering other people (haAa!)

Looking across the songs on Sargeant Pepper Grinder, there’s a real sense of finding joy in people, memories and small moments. Did writing these songs change the way you look at those things, or perhaps make you appreciate them differently?

I look at this record now as a memorial. I truly wanted to create a tangible and (hopefully) long lasting tribute to Ducky and Scootch, as well as a heartfelt and healing expression of grief for myself and others. But yes, working on this record was very much a path to creating joy, memories, and small-moments – with my friends and family who are still around.