Categories
FEATURES FREE MP3s GUEST EDITOR

Spacehog: They Come In Peace

For its second invasion, Spacehog orchestrates a soft landing.

“Sunset Boulevard” (download):

Spacehog really is a band without a country—even if it doesn’t quite see it that way. “Back home in Britain, we were very much ostracized,” says Royston Langdon, the group’s vocalist/bassist. “We were signed in America and were living in New York. We were on another planet, in some ways.”

Born and raised in Leeds, England, sibling bandleaders Royston and Antony Langdon immigrated to the United States about 20 years ago. Older brother Antony followed a girlfriend to New York City. Royston, meanwhile, had grown increasingly frustrated with his role in Leeds outfit the Zeroes, and needed an out.

“I was getting a bit bored,” Royston told me back in 1996, some months after the release of Spacehog’s major-label debut, Resident Alien. “The whole rave thing was going on, and nobody went to see bands. Everybody just saved all their money to buy drugs all week and did a weekender.”

In New York, the Langdons initially struggled to get it together. When the two weren’t partying to excess or working shitty day jobs, they were sequestered in an apartment writing songs and jamming. In their search for collaborators, they found drummer Jonny Cragg, another Brit who’d escaped to New York, reinforcing their ranks eight months later with guitarist Richard Steel, who flew in from England at Cragg’s behest.

By 1995, the ongoing campaign to nudge more English bands back atop the American charts had netted (at best) mixed results, with Oasis pretty much the lone beneficiary. Then, along came Spacehog’s “In The Meantime,” the meteoric spew of giddy glam-metal conviction that kicked off Resident Alien, a joyously theatrical, near-flawless debut. (The title referred to the members’ living status at the time.) A number-one hit in the U.S. and an MTV favorite, the single helped Resident Alien go gold. Back home, however, most of their Britpop-addled countrymen were unimpressed.

“We were inauthentic,” says Cragg today. “We got thrown in with all that mid-’90s alternative rock. We enjoyed the benefits, of course. But we really didn’t have all that much in common with a lot of the other bands out there.”

And time was running out on the current music-industry model. “It was like the last days of the Roman Empire,” says Cragg. “Record companies were basically just signing rock bands, and a lot of them were having hits and selling lots of CDs. It seems so alien to talk about that now—so long ago.”

“We sort of started off at the top—coming from a place of abundance,” says Royston. “It was exciting; it was scary. I was very unprepared. I’m grateful that it happened, but with the benefit of hindsight, I might have approached it differently.”

In the 17 years since its auspicious start, plenty has happened to Spacehog—some of it not so great. And still, the group’s new release, the mostly excellent As It Is On Earth (Hog Space), carries on almost as if there were no gaping 12 years of dead air since the inconsequential 2001 release of the band’s last album, The Hogyssey. As It Is On Earth displays none of the derivative Bowie/T.Rex laziness of its predecessor, while harnessing manageable doses of the antsy experimental energy that fueled Resident Alien’s expansive 1998 follow-up, The Chinese Album. “It sounds like a natural, organic development from where we were as young men,” says Cragg.

The members of Spacehog were still relatively young men when they disbanded in 2001, shortly after a massive tour with the Black Crowes and Oasis. At the time, Royston was in the honeymoon phase of his relationship with actress Liv Tyler—a marriage that resulted in a son in 2004 and an amicable divorce four years later. After a short-lived project with former members of Blind Melon, he regrouped with Antony and another Langston brother, Christian, to form electro-punk outfit Arckid, which Cragg subsequently joined.

It was at Cragg’s “21st” birthday party in Brooklyn that Spacehog reassembled in 2006. “I don’t know if any of us were really chomping at the bit to get together, but I didn’t want to be the one to say no,” says Steel. “We didn’t rehearse or anything, but it was really nice to see each other again.”

With Antony living in L.A., Royston sampling the West Coast and the rest of the band in New York, geographic challenges meant that this reunion would come in fits and starts. But everyone seemed to come together when it came time to record As It Is On Earth. “There were a lot of false starts for me, really,” says Royston, who mentions an aborted solo project, work with Evan Dando and some serious woodshedding in upstate New York—all of which amounted to little. “It all sort of compounded the feeling that maybe we did have something with Spacehog.”

Although they’re now living on opposite coasts, the Langston brothers’ dueling creative temperaments again figure prominently on As It Is On Earth, as does the deft touch of original producer Bryce Goggin. Now that he’s taken a few more lumps in life, Royston’s cultured, over-the-top vocal theatrics and psychodramatic songwriting find a bit more perspective and resonance, while Antony’s grand-scale guitar work is less of a distraction and more of an asset.

As is the norm with any worthwhile Spacehog release, a flair for the dramatic (seven-minute slow-burn of an opener “Deceit”) is tempered by a parodic caginess (“Bonnie & Clyde,” “Dinosaur”). It’s also apparent that considerable thought and craftsmanship went into Earth, no doubt aided by a successful fan-funded effort via Pledge Music.

“I’m sort of past caring whether people give a shit or not,” says Cragg. “All I know is that when I listen to the record we’ve made—one that’s taken a long time and a lot of anguish—it sounds fucking brilliant. If people think we suck, then it can only be because of how we’re perceived, and not because of the music.”

Although he made a significant contribution As It Is On Earth, commitments on the West Coast—including an ongoing project with Joaquin Phoenix—have compelled Antony to bow out of any touring behind the album. Old friend Timo Ellis (Cibo Matto, Netherlands) is filling in on guitar as the band preps for the shows that are likely to follow the album’s release. Ever the showman, Antony will be missed onstage.

“My brother has a wild energy that’s very paradoxical,” says Royston. “It’s a blessing and a curse—and, in terms of musicality, maybe not so good. We’ve certainly lost something, but we’ve gained a lot, too. It feels good.”

—Hobart Rowland

One reply on “Spacehog: They Come In Peace”

Looks like he told Joaquin to suck it.
Good for everyone: I saw the show in Boston.
Completely fucking phenomenal.
World Class Rock stars, they owned that stage.
Bro even broke a guitar string

Comments are closed.