Interview

Interview
My Greatest Hits: Hard-Fi
With a UK tour on the horizon, Richard Archer talks new album, Sweating Someone's Fever, and reflects on the highlights of the band's career
When Hard-Fi released Stars Of CCTV in 2005, frontman Richard Archer’s observations on financial frustration, increasing surveillance and the lure of weekend escapism helped make it one of the defining albums of the era. Two decades on, he feels these anxieties are only more pronounced. “The world that I inhabited then… now it would be much worse,” he says. “I probably didn’t even know I was born compared to how things are now.”
This perspective frames Hard-Fi’s fourth studio album, Sweating Someone Else’s Fever, released at the end of June. Taking its title from a Central American saying introduced to Archer by his wife, the phrase describes becoming emotionally wrapped up in someone else’s problems. Archer saw something bigger in it. “We’re all kind of sweating someone else’s fever,” he explains. “We’re all sweating the fever of people who want money and power… we’re all being manipulated by stuff we see on social media.” It became a fitting title for an album that reflects on political division, disillusionment and what Archer calls the “lost future” – the sense that society has pressed pause on the march towards “more equality” and “more fairness” he felt in his generation.
While Sweating Someone Else’s Fever continues a conversation Hard-Fi started 20 years ago, it’s also an apt moment to look back. With a UK tour set for December, Archer sat down with us to look back on the highlights of the band’s career.
Putting Staines on the map
It’s a bit more abstract than just championing the town you’re from, isn’t it? It’s been talked about before how a lot of bands in the indie rock scene at that time were in Camden, and you were kind of outsiders, especially from a place like Staines which didn’t have the best reputation from things like Ali G . I think perhaps your stories of everyday life at the turn of millennium connected with people more because of the fact that you were outsiders and because a lot of people in mundane towns around the UK could kind of connect with that. Is that how it felt at the time? Were you surprised by how many sort of saw themselves in those songs?
I didn’t think that when I was writing them, I was just writing from stuff that I saw. And it was only later, really, that I was talking to a friend of mine also from around here, he’s a journalist and a musician of his own right, a guy called Billy Reeves. He said, “You were celebrating that life.” I’d never thought of it like that. “You were saying it’s okay to live for the weekend, it’s okay to go out and actually this is your life and you’re celebrating that rather than trying to have a wry, ironic look at it or whatever. You were just in the moment and that was why.” And I think that’s why it connected. Because most people come from somewhere like Staines, most people grow up in a place where there’s not much to do and you start perhaps dreaming about what’s happening. You know, the grass is always greener and there must be something going on. Where’s the party tonight? You know, that sort of feeling of being outside of it and wanting more. And also that feeling of the actual sheer joy of going out with your mates, having a few drinks and listening to music up loud. It’s been pressing the right buttons for years.
I remember there was a Guardian interview where they went back to Staines with you and looked at Cheeky’s nightclub and the landmarks of the town. Did you think at the time why is everyone interested in this?
It was a weird one, there was a little bit of me that. It was like, I’d quite like to be somewhere else, right? It’s a bit boring sometimes. I made a lot of the records with with a guy called Woolsey White, he’s also from around here, and we just found it funny. We thought it was hilarious that people wanted to come and see all this stuff, and we sort of would play along with it, really. I sometimes think perhaps we went too far because that’s all we kind of were ever known for, the band from Staines and all that sort of stuff. But it was just hilarious, really. People came to Staines and you get there and it’s a shitty room in a trading estate. There’s no glamour, but people came. We thought it was funny, so we sort of rolled with it.
Creating a No.1 album from scratch
People often say they created a record from scratch, but in Hard-Fi’s case you really made Stars of CCTV for a few hundred quid in a disused cab office, right? Did its limitations improve the album, do you think?
Without going off totally off topic, but another milestone in my career was before Hard-Fi. I was in a band with my brother and some mates called Contempo, and we got signed to London Records, and we tried to make an album with Mick Jones of The Clash. To be working with him, to meet him, to get in and see how he operated was incredible. We stayed in touch and he came and joined us on stage for some incredible moments in Hard-Fi’s career. It was amazing to work with him, but also the pressure of being in a recording studio and not being able to kind of do what you want… I realised I didn’t quite like that. So that all fell apart and we got dropped and the album never got finished and A&R man got the sack and the label got bought by someone else, and we’re back to square one, you know, skint and living at home with my mum and dad.
So to have that space and to have none of the noise and all the other stuff, to be able to go in and actually just spend some time trying shit out… that was the real benefit. There was no big advance, there was no superstar producer, it was just us with some very basic equipment. The laptop we were using couldn’t run too many things, otherwise it would crash. So it was lucky we didn’t have loads of equipment to try and put into it because it wouldn’t work. We got in there just to rehearse because it was cheap. Then we saw outside there was a stone stairwell and were like, “Oh, did you hear about Led Zeppelin once? They went to this place and they put mics up in the hall. Let’s do it.” You know, it was just like that. It was just getting into daft ideas and trying things out. And that was the thing, sometimes I felt like we were looked at slightly suspiciously by some of the press or the establishment. And yet for us, we were like going, “We’re the most punk rock band out there. We made this ourselves with nothing.”
The Brixton Academy residency
I think from a live point of view, we have to mention the Brixton Academy shows because we had five sold-out nights and we had Paul Weller join us, Mick Jones came on and Billy Bragg was our special guest. I think Professor Green did a couple, he was just starting out at the time. You know, when I’d go and see music in London, we’d come into town and Brixton was the venue. That was where we saw all the coolest bands. So to be able to go there and not just to play one night, but to go there and do five and then to have these guys come on on stage with us, you know, I’ll never forget that. If we had to retire after that, I’d have taken that.
Mick Jones came on and did ‘E=MC 2’. And I was told that him coming on and playing with us was one of the reasons he started playing live again, which is really cool to hear. We did Town Called Malice with Weller, which is cool. He came to a rehearsal and I remember he turned up and we were all like really nervous and he was like, “Right, who’s having tea?” He starts making a tea, it’s just like, this is surreal, man. Jerry Dammers, the main writer of The Specials and keyboard player, was at the gig and we’d done a Love Music Hate Racism show with him and we did ‘Ghost Town’. That was super cool too. But to have all these guys, all these lie heroes and legends come to Brixton and see us play and in some cases get up on stage, that was amazing.
Taking a helicopter between T4 on the Beach and supporting Green Day at Milton Keynes Bowl
That whole experience was completely mad. We’d been playing to maybe 500 people at that point, club venues really, and then we got offered this support slot. But we had to do T4 on the Beach, we had to keep T4 sweet because, you know, they were putting loads of bands on, so you wanted to keep them happy. The only way we could do it was blow the entire fee on a helicopter. So we hired these two helicopters to get us and the crew back over to Milton Keynes. They were these little helicopters they used to check the overhead cables on pylons, they were really rickety. It was like, “Fuck.” But it was cool as we flew over to see all the people, see the stage. Apparently people thought it was Green Day coming in, but it was us, you know. And then going out on stage and just having difficulty taking all these people in. We’d never played outside, so it sounded completely different. The whole thing was very exciting, very terrifying. At the time you’re just doing it because the crowd’s too big to sort of see what’s going on. It was only later that we realised just how much that did for us, how many people saw us there. I’ll never forget, we sort of walked out on stage and Ross [Phillips, lead guitar] was having a cigarette and there’s signs everywhere saying no smoking because they had loads of pyro. The Green Day crew almost rugby tackled him into the crowd, haha!
Beating the difficult second album cliche; Once Upon a Time in the West goes straight to No. 1
That was a really strange time because we were completely strung out, mostly of our own doing. We’d been on the road and suddenly it’s like, right, you need a new album. We decided that instead of going into a normal studio, we were going to do it again in our little studio, but a unit next door had become available. We were going to turn it into a proper studio, and instead of getting like a group of lads in to do it, we said we would do it ourselves. Woolsey White, who, as I say, was going to produce it again, he’s also every now and again turns his hand to building sets and film sets and that kind of stuff. So this producer is putting up stud walls and stuff like this. It was taking ages and we we needed to get going, so everything was late. But we’re doing this thing, we’re in this studio in a trading estate in the middle of nowhere. All we’re eating is microwave meals from the Marks and Spencers in the BP garage at the end of the road. It was only after two months that we looked at the salt intake of these things and we realised why everyone was not feeling very well. We were doing like seven days a week because we were late.
Then it comes out, and it was just amazing that it went to No.1. ‘Suburban Nights’, I think that was the first single, was our highest ever chart position for a single. Still a massive moment live. But also at the same time, there was but there was all the stuff about the artwork.
Yeah. the artwork for the first album had almost been accidental, kind of. It won awards and, you know, we need to do something next that, and we had this guy who was a friend of Warren Clark, who was our sort of manager at the time. His mate, Dave Smith was a graphic designer and he was doing all this stuff. He wanted to do something really interesting. It was just like, f*cking hell, what have we done? We seemed to piss a lot of people off just by doing that. But it was nice to see it going to No.1 after all that because it was pretty intense.
Am I right in thinking that after the success of the debut,you were offered Abbey Road or other higher budget studios, but you wanted to go and do it back at Cherry Lips? Was that just because you felt more comfortable there or did you feel like it would be bad luck to do it anywhere else or something?
Yeah, it’s probably a little bit of all of that, really. I think we were comfortable there. We liked the idea of using the money to create, because once it’s there, it’s ours, you know? We still have our spot there. It’s a lot smaller than it was then, but, you know, we can rehearse there, we can record there, it’s like a hub. It would have been great to go to Abbey Road and all that sort of stuff. But having had a little taste of that years before, I knew that it wasn’t the be-all and end-all. I knew it was more about being comfortable and getting good performances. And we did get to go into Olympic Studios where the Stones used to record and we recorded some string sections there. I think we got a bit carried away because when I think about what was the roots of what we were, it was DIY and keeping it raw. If you got a string section, it was from a cheap sampler. We were like, “They’ll pay for us to get some guys in? Fuck it let’s do it!” We did all that and it was amazing and it sounded great, but it was probably not quite in keeping with what it was about, but we were like kids in a sweet shop, really.
The album did particularly well in Central and South America – is that when you started becoming interested in Latin music?
Not necessarily, actually. I’ve always loved when I listen to music trying to be able to feel the place where it was made. I used to love listening to, I don’t know, Air’s Moon Safari, and I would imagine I was in some apartment in Paris drinking du pain du vin du Boursin or whatever, you know? That’s why I kind of always liked the Stones stuff. I imagined it was in some kind of really humid, hot New Orleans veranda or something, I don’t know. I’d always loved that feeling of music taking you to different places.
And then I got into Manu Chao. He had that kind of world music thing, but also coupled with the rebel punk energy that I loved from The Clash and The Specials and got into that. And then also, if you listen to Joe Strummer’s BBC World Service shows that he did, he’s playing these cumbia tracks and, especially the stuff from like the ’60s, it’s really raw. It feels like punk. The bass is slightly out of tune, it’s just super cool. So I was just starting getting into all that. We were listening to a lot of reggae, dub and ska when we made the first album. Sounds of the Universe Records had just put out their 100% Dynamite series. Still getting access to good quality pressings of all these amazing tunes that we were sort of really getting into. So there’s always been an element of being interested in different stuff.
And what about the follow-up album, Killer Sounds? It also reached the Top 10 upon its release but you’ve spoken about it being a difficult time for the band…
I think that it was difficult in the way that it felt like the whole world had changed really. I saw a video of guy recently, he sort of nailed it. He was standing in the middle of a desert and he was saying, this is how it feels putting out new music now. He’s shouting to this limitless void. “I’ve got a new record coming out! Anyone there?!” That’s sort of how it felt with that one, really. It was great fun making it. I got a chance to go to LA and worked with some people over there, Greg Kurstin, and we worked with Stuart Price, who I’d always been a fan of, and Andy Gray was working out of our place at Cherry Lips. For the first time ever, we got to go somewhere nice for the videos. They’d always made our videos and go, “We found this really shitty part of town where we’re going to go and set you up and make it look all gritty and it’s going to be shot at four in the morning and it’s like four below.” We managed to persuade them to go to Barcelona for one and Trinidad for another one as well. So it wasn’t all bad. It was more that we got this music and it was great, and then it just felt that like the world had moved on and it was just hard to get anyone to pay any attention. That’s similar now, you know, like there’s so much stuff coming all the time. It feels quite hard to like go, “Hey, check this out! Stop! Listen to this!”
Collaborating with Brentford F.C.
It’s a bit of an obvious one. They used to come out at ‘Hard To Beat’, And then when they went up to the Prem, they obviously had to get a bit more showbiz so they had all the lights and stuff. Now they play if we draw and I’m like, OK, we’re hard to beat, yeah yeah, I like it. But that was always like super cool. Then we did this shirt collaboration with them, I was so happy about that because back in the day we wondered could we sponsor the club. And then, obviously that timings didn’t work out and now they’re in the Prem, there’s no way we could afford that. But they did this fantasy shirt, and we made a little video, re-doing some of the shots from the ‘Living for the Weekend’ video, which was shot nearby on the M4 at Brentford. I was there when they played it on the big screen and normally after most of those things, we’ll just watch them and then continue chatting. But afterwards, like that whole ground’s like, “Yeeaaah!” That was cool. Everyone was really into it and the shirt sold out super quick.
The Reunion
Hard-Fi reunited in 2022 – why was it the right time?
I’d been working on another project with some really great people and we were about to release the record. We were releasing it ourselves. We’d made it all ourselves again. We thought we’ll release it, put it out and see if we can get someone to take some notice of it. Then obviously the pandemic happened and everything got put on the shelf. I was working with a singer called Kristen Cummings, who actually features on the new Hard-Fi album. She was from the States, so she got stuck here for a bit, but then she wanted to get home, see her mum and dad. And like everyone, we did some live streams. We did some of that material, but then me and her would just sit outside in my garden doing these tracks and some Hard-Fi tracks. It was like, okay, this is quite fun. Then when she went, I thought, maybe I’ll do the whole of Stars of CCTV acoustic, just do it all and it will help me figure out how these bits of kit I’ve got work to do this sort of stuff.
I did it, not really expecting anything. It’s a very surreal experience, you sit in your kitchen playing to basically my wife, trying not to be too loud because the kids are in bed upstairs and wondering if anyone is watching or not, you know? But the response back was just overwhelmingly positive and warm with all these stories of daft things people have done to our music or got married to it, or just memories of gigs. Normally online, there’s always a few people who are like, “That’s a bit of shit,” you know. There was just none of that, and lots of people watched it. I spoke to the guys and said, let’s do a gig. And the gig just went so well and was so well received and was such a good vibe. So we had to do some more. Then you do some more shows and then you think, well, we can’t keep playing the same old songs. You start thinking about new music and here we are.
What was the atmosphere like at the first rehearsal? Did it take a bit of time getting back into it?
I was a bit apprehensive at first because I didn’t quite know where the other guys were at. But it was just really nice. It was like a group of friends getting in a room, making some noise. That’s what we all loved about it and that’s how it should be. You know, one of the things that’s taken me all this time to realise is that you’ve got to enjoy the process of making it and doing that and doing the rehearsals. Because those are the things you have control over. You don’t have any control over what happens next, how people perceive your music or where if people want to come and see you play it. So if you can’t enjoy those moments where you’re doing your craft, then why are you doing it? There is something great about getting in a room, guitars up loud, it’s not good for your hearing but it’s good for your mental health to just sort of thrash that out for a bit.
Releasing Sweating Someone Else’s Fever
The tunes would often start off just me in here. It’s those moments when you’ve got an idea and you think, this is quite good, but it’s not quite there yet. Then you stumble on something by accident. That’s why you keep coming back to it, it’s very drug-like, you know, and before you know it, you’ve forgotten what the time is. Then taking it to the guys and then seeing them get on with it. I’ve been working on my own quite a lot. And then suddenly you take these things and you’re in a room with other people and you can see it turn from demos into a record.
It was a funny one with the first single from the album, ‘They Ain’t Your Friends’. We pretty much had the album together and we thought we maybe needed one more song and my management company were like, “We could maybe do with one more Hard-Fi banger.” I’m like, no shit, I’ll just pluck one out of thin air. So we’re trying to get some new tunes together and my son, who was 10 at the time, was on the computer because he loves all that sort of stuff, and he’d found two old ideas on this thing from like way, way back. And he’d put them together! Obviously he’s 10, and he’d found an instrumental track and a vocal and he took the vocal off one track and put it over the other one. The keys were the same, so that worked, but the tempos were different, so it went in and out of time. But it was enough to think that sounds kind of interesting. And then I sat down with him and we just literally made it work end to end, didn’t think this is the chorus, this is the verse. Then we sent it over and everyone loved it and it’s got to be the first single!
So there was me sweating, I got to come up with another tune really quickly and then he comes in. Although he keeps pestering me now for his cut.



