Criminal Elelment

Level : June/July 1999 (Issue 02)

The Fun Lovin' Criminals have been around for a while now. Familiar hooks, both musical and lyrical, are as commonplace as their over-hyped, media-led reputation, which all too often turns out to be totally unfounded or completely unjustified. As with a lot of big stars in the world of music, what you read is what you expect, but when you actually get to meet them in person they all too often aren't anything like what you were expecting. We managed to hook up with them at one of London's more popular celebrity haunts to (a) talk about stuff, and (b) test drive the forthcoming Prince Naseem boxing game for the Playstation due for release later this year.

The day had started pretty well. Not living in London, it kind of makes sense to organise yourself and cram as much as possible into just a few short hours in order to avoid too many trips courtesy of public transport, which doesn't sound too bad unless your local train company is as reliable as ours. This normally means having to start your day way too early to make sure you get where you need to be on time, worrying about getting home all day and then having to leave way too early because the train leaves at such a carefully scheduled/ridiculous* time, and all for an extremely reasonable/extortionate* fare. (*Delete as appropriate.)

Inevitably our organising and time keeping paid off, and everything seemed to be running pretty smoothly. We couldn't have timed our arrival in London much better if we'd tried and breezed into our first appointment. A couple of pints and lunch out of the way it was onto meet Huey at the Metropolitan Hotel, but as we walked in through the spinning glass doors, he was oin his way out with one of the other band members and ITV's Cat Deeley – the reports in papers seemed to have been correct. We waited a short while for everyone else involved to arrive, then headed up to the pre-booked suite to set up and wait for Huey's expected return.

Everything was ready. The photographer was happy, the game was loaded, make-up was ready and the stylist prepared – it was just a case of waiting… and waiting… and waiting. Mike, the tour manager, made a couple of appearances to make sure we were comfortable and to assure us that Huey was going to show, that he'd be there in his own time. No worries, we were comfortable, weren't due anywhere else, and had more time to practice the game before his arrival. From nowhere room service arrived with a trolley load of drinks and we wasted no time in getting tucked in, particularly seeing that we hadn't paid for them.

Clock watching became an increasingly popular pastime, especially as there were another couple of magazines waiting to speak to the man and time was running tight. Another knock on the door proved to be the moment we'd all been waiting for, and the entourage appeared. There must have already been a dozen of us in the room, so as you can imagine another handful didn't really make a lot of difference except a series of confused introductions and a distinct shortage of seating all round. Courtesy aside, the improvised schedule for our allotted time was hastily explained as he got straight down to business at the only available table and proceeded to skin up. Now I'd read a fair bit about his smoking habits and assumed as you might that it was all a bit exaggerated, but that really is how it is. It seems he can't go for long before needing/wanting another fix, but this may explain his relaxed, friendly and approachable personality.

First things first, they'd brought with them another trolley of drinks (this time laden with the most deliciously potent German lager) and another brimming with various delicacies ranging from seafood to pasta specialities – it seems they take this good eating thing fairly seriously. Food seems to play a fairly major part in his life. "I'm opening a restaurant here in London sometime over the summer called De Fontaines. We're found a great place in Camden and it'll be authentic Italian/American food. We're even going to be flying in water from New York so it tastes the same as back home." Huey was shown the game whilst his plate of pasta was prepared, and wasted no time in mastering the controls. Food ready, it was time to eat and chat some more to establish that essential rapport. It turns out that the tour had been going well: "We're in the middle of doing these four shows at The Forum (Kentish Town) which is pretty bugged out. We played up in Blackpool or some place which was way too big, but it's kind of funny that a lot of people want to see us", carefully spoken in between mouthfuls of lovingly prepared linguine. "They wanted us to play at Wembley so they could try and sell 10,000 tickets or something like that. We just didn't think that many people would want to come and see us, so we decided that if we could do two nights at The Forum or something like that, that would be pretty cool. Before we knew it two nights had turned into three, then three nights into four. It's far better to have four nights that are rammed than two that are half-empty. Now I think we've sold as many tickets as Wembley holds, so it's kind of funny and the agent's pissed at us."

So why does he think that they're more popular here in the UK than at home in America? "Its kind of rough. In America the radio is really weird. It's either like r&b radio or rock radio, but we don't really sound like any of that stuff, so it's hard to get out there and let people know we're alive," his disillusionment with America's media agenda was obvious, although graciously accepted. "The other thing is that our videos are pretty wack. They don't look like Hank William's videos and are kind of home-spun so they don't get played on MTV too much."

With his hunger satisfied and another joint in hand, we turn our attentions to the game. Codemaster, the game's creator, had created a Huey character especially for this meeting, and he appeared pretty stoked. "I think it's one of the highest compliments I've ever been bestowed, but it's kind of tough. I mean, when we're playing, that's me up there, and so I have a vested interest to win. It's not just some character like Tommy 'Hitman' Hearn, then you just lose. When it's you on the screen, your reputation's at stake."

We'd both had a little practice now, and a challenge match was set up. Huey played as himself, whilst I was Prince Naseem Hamed. "This game's dope!" he exclaimed as he began another merciless bout of kicking my limey butt, "I like the way that if your caught out, there's no way of getting back to your corner. You've got to stand there and fight, but it's kind of frustrating when you're getting beat because whoever hits the button first gets in there. It's very hard." I managed to endure two or three rounds.

My gaming skills obviously weren't as honed as Huey's, and I wondered how much he'd played before. "We've got game consoles all over the place. Because the format's different in America, we have one that stays in the UK with our equipment. My favourite game to date is probably Goldeneye because when you're really upset you can take a sniper course and just start picking people off, that's cool… when you're really angry like that incident a few months ago." My curiosity got the better of me. I'd read an incident involving the band that happened whilst on tour in Australia, but they'd seem reluctant to talk about it. "I wasn't really involved. It was just a personal matter between Fast and some guy. He just took care of it, you know."

We moved away from the game. Time was ticking away and we hadn't managed to take any photographs yet. Make up was ready, and Louise proceeded to blacken his eye as we talked. I recalled the story of their gig at a Polish prison where their visit proved a huge hit with all the inmates except one, who persistently heckled the band throughout the entire show. When they'd finished, Huey reminded him in front of the whole prison that they were going to be leaving and heading straight to the nearest bar for a refreshingly cold pint and a spliff, whilst that particular inmate was going to be spending the evening behind bars and possibly 'interfered with' in the showers that evening. "I called him out there, and all the insane people were down with me so it kind of helped. Kindred spirits and all that." Huey's charm was glaringly obvious, but how does he deal with the people he meets, a lot of whom for just a short amount of time. "When we got our first record deal, there's this sort of music college that a lots of bands go to where you learn how to separate yourself from society and convince yourself that you're better than them. You sit up on a hill and critique society in a pious way, but I think I must have missed class that day. I'm just a regular guy."

The interview was interrupted for a short while as the stylist began to tie the bandages around his knuckles. My attention was briefly drawn to the sunshine blazing through the room's window and onto Huey's back. What did the imminent arrival of summer mean for the Fun Lovin' Criminals? "We're playing a few festivals over here. We're doing Glastonbury, T in the Park, and Reading, which is kind of wild. We're gonna do all our hard rock songs at Reading, no mellow sings at all – unless we can work thrash versions out." Not-too-fond memories of trudging around the mud bath at Glastonbury came flooding back to me. "At that point, if you're still there and it's shitty weather, there's nothing you can do except stay or go home. So if you're not leaving you might as well have a good time." But does the somewhat soggy attitude of the majority of punters make life more difficult for the performers? "People are there to have a good time, so it's your job to help them forget about the fact that maybe it's raining and their shoes are wet. It's actually kind of easy because we just think about how we'd like to be treated. It's sort of instinctive. If you're pissed off and muddy, you don't want to see some guy come on stage in a white suit like Ian McCulloch's (Echo and the Bunnymen) rumoured to have done, I heard people just started throwing mud at him."

But surely all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy? "I got some BMX time coming in about two and a half weeks. I ride an old Mongoose, because I'm not really that good at it and I'd feel embarrassed riding a nice new bike around NYC. I ride all over the city, so it's definitely New York street freestyle – dislocating collar bones and that sort of thing."

The stylist is by now struggling with the bandages. Huey notices and endeavours to show her the correct technique, ensuring the whole of his wrists and hands are supported a la Raging Bull. "I think we're going to try and vacation in the year 2000, but there's some things we've got to do first. Beside the restaurant I'm making a film, and in between those two things I've got a lot of other things to deal with. I mean, I used to carry ice around a nightclub for a living, so every day seems like a vacation compared to that." His left eye was now thoroughly bruised, blackened as if he'd been through several rounds with Mr Hamed and not done too well. Another joint was passed as comments about how realistic the eye looked became more and more animated, "Do I look like I got popped?"

The film intrigued me, I needed to know more. "I wrote a script for this film that we're probably going to be shooting here in London. It's a pretty good idea. It's got a dead rock star, his widow, a mad scientist and a time machine that look like a New York cab. It's kind of like Ghost meets Back To The Future meets Bad Lieutenant." Sounds like a pretty straight forward plot to me, but how does someone whose music is so influenced filmically come up with such a mixed bag of reference, and then convince a film company to give them the money to make it? "Joel [Pront] and I did a video for a song called Big Night Out. It was kind of like Raging Bull and a social critique at the same time. We always try and include hidden meanings in our music, like if you play it backwards and all that. The production company thought we'd made a good job on the video and approached us with a pretty nice sum of money to make a feature film, and that bag of money snowballed into a whole big bag of money – we're gonna take the big bag of money and split it in half. That's half to make the movie, and the other half to have a good time with for the next six months. It sounds crazy, but they give you the money up front."

The bandages were wrapped and the make up was nearly done. Just a tickle of blood from his nose and he'd be ready for the photographer. "When I'm home and not working, I like hanging out at my house with my dog. My friend Mateo who's gonna be the chef at De Fontaines (he's already a chef in NYC) comes over and usually ends up cooking because we smoke weed and get hungry. He's really good at it so that helps. We have this one club we got to every Monday night which has become a kind of ritual, but mostly I chill at home or go out on my bike."

The photographer's itching to get started and we make a move towards the improvised studio. The conversation inevitably gets to the subject of toking. I wondered how they dealt with the scoring problem, especially when overseas. "Luckily we do a lot of homework when it comes to that. We can do anything as long as we've got some 'erb. We're not like super big drinkers, because when we drink we start getting into fights and shit like that." But surely superstar status entitles you to a few privileges, thinking how other bands resolve their purchasing problems and the all too common comparisons of the FLC's with the Beasties. "I take care of my own drug dealings. I think that's when you know you've crossed the plain into thinking like a rock star. Paying people to buy sneakers for you? The Beastie Boys have got a lot of other problems, the piousness and so on. Don't get me wrong. When I was growing up, I was listening to the Beastie Boys. It's cool stuff. I think if you involve humour with your music you get locked in with bands like the Beastie Boys and I think they're all right, they're not a bad group. They've been acting kind of bugged out lately, but what do you expect? They're adults now, but they were talking about sticking waffle ball bats in girls twelve ago or whatever, and now they get mad at bands for doing that same thing, but bands nowadays are just doing what they felt back in the day. They're losing touch I guess. As far as bands go, I don't really know if we play the same kind of music. They do that hardcore thing, and then they do that serious hip hop thing. We don't really do either the hardcore or the serious hip hop… and they're soft!"

The flashes are popping now and Huey's beginning to into this manufactured persona of Deniro-esque boxer. "We're just working class kids that came up that way and we play music for everyday people. We're not sitting on the hill critiquing society, we're in the mix. We try to keep the humour involved because that gives you a little perspective, but there's also a lot of serious shit going on. I'm just a man trying to make my way in the world." So how does he deal with the contradiction of being seen as gangster type characters in one light and rock stars in another? "We don't get into this shit ourselves. We don't have somebody we send round to slap some dude up for hitting his girlfriend. If you're talking about the guy I beat up in New York, shit like that happens, what turns your stomach, it's real. We're not really rock stars thought, we refuse to say we are. We don't really consider ourselves unless we're doing an interview."

I wrap it up and move away, as I'm beginning to interrupt the flow of the shoot. I take a seat at the back of the room and watch Huey do his thing, joining the room full of people all getting in to the occasion. He seems to be enjoying himself, and I'm hoping we'll leave him with some fond memories of our brief encounter.

The entourage leaves as spontaneously as it arrived. Thanks and appreciation are abundant from all concerned. The photographer and his assistant begin to pack their car-full of equipment, the make-up artist zips up her case and the stylist carefully folds her selection of clothing. We meet downstairs in the infamous super mode/media wannabe's hang out, the Met Bar. It's nothing special. I buy an appreciative round. It costs £35. I leave soon after, happy with our day but really shocked at the cost of the beer.

Whatever you may think of their music or your opinion of the man himself, I guess it all boils down to how we got on. It's like the old adage  of never showing a wild animal that you're scared or nervous because it'll know, and can effect the outcome of your paths crossing. I must admit I was beginning to get a little nervous as we waited in that hotel room, but from the moment he walked in he was the epitome of how I wish all celebrities were. Polite, courteous, friendly, accommodating, helpful, appreciative, and maybe above all, down to earth, ordinary. It seems the fame and fortune hasn't gone to his head, he's just doing what we all aspire to – making a living doing something he enjoys.

Chris Quigley