No, lead-singer Borrell seems wary to even this – a stark contrast compared to grinning, amicable bandmates Carl Dalemo (bass), Andy Burrows (drums), and Bjorn Agren (guitars). Perhaps such caginess is due to the fact that he is typically the voice of Razorlight, and the only voice. Certainly judging from his domination of ‘discussion’ it will take a while – if not longer – for Borrell to grant more free speech amidst his troops.
This is not altogether unsatisfactory though, considering the fact that he was the instigator of Razorlight, however cynically.
‘I was very suspicious of forming a band,’ he drawls of pre-Razorlight days as a gospel-inspired poet. ‘All the bands that were around at the time were Elbow, the Doves and stuff like that.
‘But seeing The Von Bondies, and The Datsuns – it was quite inspiring. I thought, you know, you can be in a band, and it can mean something in this day and age – and it doesn’t have to be f**king shoegazer and all that nonsense.’
One gets the feeling that Borrell’s cathartic musical experiences come in at a very loud volume. So what does Razorlight try to do with their sound, in opposition to the ‘nonsense’ of shoegazer?
‘I sit down, I try and tell stories,’ he hazily retorts. ‘I try and write songs and tell stories about things that are true. You try and create an emotion musically, but at the same time you try and write a bassline and a drum-beat that just makes you wanna jump up and down and blows your mind, you know? You try and inspire people; you try and keep yourself inspired.’
He should be out of breath, but he isn’t. ‘Sometimes, you just want to be the best rock and roll band in the world, and sometimes you, well, you always want to be that… the manifesto is to make something of artistic worth.’
Borrell’s speech comes out as one long piece of propaganda in his head, not that he wrote, but that he believes. There is no denying his conviction.
Razorlight certainly needed all the conviction they could muster, after drummer Christian Smith-Pancorvo left the band earlier this year. Agren’s patient smile finally gave way to speech, and the guitarist chimed in regarding the band’s recent turmoil: ‘After finishing the album, it felt like the band had fallen apart. It was a big pile of rubble. After we’d finished, we’d started to rebuild it, then Andy came in, and it felt like a very natural thing... Gradual break-down and gradual build-up.’ He returns to the warm smile.
And yet while in interviews the band may not get to say much, they speak volumes through the aural product, seemingly all of them partaking in finalising the composition.
‘Sometimes, I try and conceive the whole song in my head, but we haven’t had much success with that,’ Borrell confesses. ‘I just kind of sit there at a desk until my brain bleeds, for about a week. You write a first line, then you spend the rest of the week trying to finish it up, and tell a story, and then bring it in and we kind of just, musically, thrash it out. You try and get a good intro, and you try and make the bit after the second chorus to be the best bit of a song, and you try and get a good ending.’
Sounds simple enough, but in the process of all this ‘trying’ there will inevitably be an editing process.
‘You sit back and you think, ‘Is the music projecting what the lyrics are about? Does it all work?’ adds Agren insightfully.
Well, if the solid status of their impending ‘Up All Night’ debut-LP – a 13-song strong compilation of pre-evening out prowess and bluster – and the omnipresence of their singles being spun at indie-clubs is anything to go by, it all seems to work quite well. Their tight and rabid adrenalin-pop appears to captivate listeners on immediate exposure.
But just what is the driving-force behind Borrell’s determination to mesmerise the masses?
‘The thought that, if I don’t do it, somebody else will.’
Judging by his resolve ‘to be the best rock and roll band in the world,’ it doesn’t look like Borrell and his compatriots are going to let that happen