Many know Gaz Coombes as the voice behind Supergrass’s brash and breezy Britpop anthem ‘Alright’, a man with sideburns so plentiful they win a mention in the first paragraph of his Wikipedia page.
But Coombes has spent the past eight years quietly evolving into a different kind of artist – one with a new appreciation for music’s ability to deliver a message.
“The way I instinctively come up with an idea is similar to how it’s always been,” Coombes says. “If I get a thought about something, I’ll run into the studio and get something down as quick as possible. I used to do that all the time for Supergrass songs. But, stylistically, a lot has changed. I can get across ideas easier than I used to be able to. I think these last four or five years could be the most creative time in my life.”
This September, Coombes is making his first solo voyage to Australia. The cosy confines of The Corner are a change from Big Day Out, Splendour in the Grass, and the other sprawling festivals Coombes played with Supergrass in the ‘90s and ‘00s. He says a more intimate venue allows him a little more room to experiment – in this case, with a drum machine, a piano and “some strange little boxes.”
“I’m pretty buzzing for this – to get over there again and see everyone,” Coombes says. “It feels really good to play and to be close to the audience, really close, in an intimate venue. I really enjoy that closeness with the crowd and being able to meet people afterwards without it being chaotic.”
In his new album, World’s Strongest Man, Coombes explores questions of masculinity with characteristic inventiveness. What qualities should a man cherish in himself? What sort of person is the world’s strongest man, anyway?
“Constantly touring and working puts a lot of strain on stuff sometimes,” Coombes says. “When you can’t handle it, you get frustrated. You think, ‘What the fuck, man? Let’s get a grip on this.’ I think that owning these vulnerabilities and owning that weakness a bit more is a strong intention. Maybe that’s where the strength is: when you realise that you’re vulnerable and fragmented and you understand that.”
On ‘Wounded Egos’, the album’s first single, Coombes made the last-minute decision to include a choir of primary school children singing the chorus, “wounded egos, right-wing psychos,” à la Pink Floyd. It’s the sort of flourish – half amusing, half portentous – you’d expect from Gorillaz frontman Damon Albarn, another Britpop legend who’s thoroughly transcended his origins.
“It has that power, that weight – the next generation, the important generation, calling out these idiots that are running the show at the moment,” Coombes said. “I felt it had more weight coming from them than coming from me.”
‘Wounded Egos’ is music with a message. But is a good message necessary for good music? Coombes is torn.
“A song can be well constructed, but not nice to listen to,” Coombes says. “There’s stuff that’s dated badly: there’s tracks from the kind of cock rock of the ‘80s that’s got some pretty awful lyrics, pretty misogynistic stuff. But it’s a difficult one. You’ve got to look at the time as well. Maybe it’s unfair to completely destroy something over that when other people were using those tones as well.”
Coombes will be touring the US and the UK with World’s Strongest Man, followed by a return to the studio, to produce a series of Supergrass reissues and other projects he’s currently keeping under wraps.
“I’m still loving this record, and it still feels quite fresh and new to me, even though it was released back in May,” Coombes says. “After that, we’ll see.”
