On August 23, 2024, at an open-air arena in Taunton, Status Quo played what’s likely to be their final concert. Afterwards the group sold their gear and the individual members went their separate ways.
In the aftermath, having put more than six decades of his life into Quo (and its various forerunners), final original and principal Francis Rossi was left in a quandary. The singer and lead guitarist had come to an arrangement with Rick Parfitt that in the event of one of them dying, the other could continue as Quo.
Stung by criticism of him electing to do so following rhythm guitarist and singer Parfitt’s passing in 2016, and also for the studio set Backbone three years later, even before the Taunton swansong Rossi had devised a new business model – a more intimate, talk-based, unplugged soirée that he was already taking to town halls and small theatres in every nook and cranny around the country.
Article continues belowFor Rossi, frustrated by the effects of music streaming and the spiralling cost of live performance with a band, that appeared to be that. As well as a cessation of touring, no more Quo albums or solo releases were planned. Although in 2019 he did make an album, We Talk Too Much with singer and violinist Hannah Rickard.
Rossi’s new solo album is titled The Accidental because he really did not mean to make it.
“Recording a new album was the furthest thing from my mind – I was done with it all,” he tells Classic Rock, speaking at his home in Surrey.
The X factor in our tale is supplied by family friend Hiran Ilangantilike. Also a guitarist and songwriter, Ilangantilike visited Rossi one day and asked uncomfortable questions about creativity.
“I’ve known Hiran since he was twelve years old. He went to school with my son Nick,” Rossi explains. When Ilangantilike wondered whether the elder man would consider writing some songs, Rossi found it hard to decline. On their first day of writing together the pair wrote Much Better and Go Man Go – the songs that would eventually open The Accidental. But still Rossi’s walls were up.
“When Hiran asked: ‘Do you want to record them?’ I replied: ‘Not really’,” says Rossi. “I can’t see the point of making records any more.”
But when Rossi consented, he took pleasure rom the process. “I told my wife Eileen: ‘I fucking enjoyed that.’ It was great to be creative. And I don’t like to use that term, because of the band I’ve been in so long that to people it seems a contradiction in terms. But I realised that I do still thrive on that, even within that mundane Status Quo thing. If you want to call it that.”
Mundane?
“I’m covering my arse there, but that’s how some people think,” he shrugs. “So Eileen asked: ‘Why don’t you do more?’ And I was like: ‘Naaah.’”
It was Max Vacarro, boss of Rossi’s record label EarMusic, who escalated the debate. Unsurprisingly, Vacarro was angling for another Status Quo album (“I told him: ‘I ain’t doing that’”). A second album with Hannah Rickard was also nixed on the grounds that Rickard had recently married and didn’t fancy the idea. So the persistent Vacarro proposed Rossi should make a third solo record.
“I really didn’t see the point. I’m old-school,” Rossi says. “Some might be ashamed to say: ‘Why do it and lose money?’ But it’s true. Why would I do that? It’s a lot of effort to make an album.
“It was when Max said: ‘What if I guarantee you don’t lose anything?’ that I replied: ‘Now you’ve got my attention’,” Rossi says, grinning.
So a deal was cut, and gradually, over almost a year, The Accidental began to take shape. Ilangantilike had a hand in the writing of seven of its 14 songs, and Andy Brook, Rossi’s associate and partner on the unplugged circuit, chipped in with three.
Rossi also called his old friend Bob Young, Quo’s unofficial fifth member during the band’s glory years and co-writer of hits Down Down, Caroline, Paper Plane and many more, and together they wrote a pair that made the final running order – Bye My Love and Back On Our Home Ground – plus another that’s earmarked for future use.
Rossi says both were reworked and “vastly improved” after he realised: “It felt like we were doing a generic Rossi-Young song, Mark 52 – it’s so easy to fall into that trap of over-familiarity.”
Intriguingly, backing him on the record on bass and drums respectively are former (?) Quo bassist John ‘Rhino’ Edwards and drummer Leon Cave.
“Leon has been on the last three or four projects and I love working with the guy,” Rossi enthuses. “And then there’s John,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Fuck me, John gets on my tits. He knows he does. He’s a klutz. He comes in and bumps into things. He’s late. When I told him he was over-playing he played so fucking well. On this project nobody is going to argue with me, and if they do they’ve got zero chance of winning. Where I am now is where I should have been some time ago, perhaps.”
This is a theory that we’ll return to.
Before we proceed, an important note. This writer is a dyed-in-the-wool fan of Status Quo’s hard rocking years. Thanks to numerous past meetings, Rossi knows that my interest dimmed during the absences of bassist Alan Lancaster and John Coghlan, and was only momentarily relit by such back-to-basics sets as Heavy Traffic and Quid Pro Quo. When Rossi told a Swedish journalist: “Dave Ling and people like him still live off the fumes of Quo in the seventies”, that was a massive compliment.
So an invitation to an early playback of The Accidental brought a degree of trepidation, given that Rossi’s previous two solo albums, King Of The Doghouse and One Step At A Time (’96 and 2010 respectively) were so far off my personal radar as to be almost non-existent. So I ask him: Can I be completely honest for a moment?
“Please do,” he replies.
I tell him I was not a fan of his two previous solo records, and that I had expected being in a room with him for a first listen of a new one to challenge my very limited diplomacy skills.
“Fair enough,” he says, smiling.
But wishy-washy Americana overlain with Everly Brothers harmonies was not what I heard. Not at all.
“That’s good,” Rossi says with a chuckle. “That’s the reaction that I was hoping for.”
What I heard was a rock record.
“I’m not sure about that, but then again I really don’t know,” he muses, pausing for a moment. “I’m happy to hear a comment like that coming from Dave Ling, a writer for Classic Rock, a magazine for people with long hair and lots of tattoos, but to me… Yeah, in your terms I suppose it is a rock record. But for me it’s very poppy. It’s bluesy. It’s got one of everything.
“I don’t think I’ve been this pleased with a project before,” he continues. “I love it so much. You ain’t supposed to say that about your own work, are you? It ain’t cool. Well fuck being cool.”
Quo fans will find much to enjoy on The Accidental, including Go Man Go, Going Home, Be My Love, Something In The Air (Stormy Weather), Picture Perfect, and tucked away towards the end, Beautiful World, six minutes of glorious old-school Quo.
“It is that, isn’t it?” Rossi agrees. “The initial idea came from Hiran, though a lot of the lyrics came from Andy [Brook]. At first we struggled to get it right. I wanted one of those ‘three movement’ pieces that Quo used to do, like Slow Train [a revered banger from the 1974 album Quo]. It speeds up and it slows down, it goes from a shuffle to a straight-ahead rock song.
“It’s funny, another journalist asked: ‘We always thought it was Rick that wrote those [harder-rocking] songs,” Rossi says. “I told him: ‘That’s not Rick. Rick wrote the softer ones.’ Rick was in denial of himself, which is one of the things that he and I used to argue about. He managed to convince people that he was the rocker and I was the country bloke. That’s simply untrue.”
It’s certainly been a long while since we heard Rossi play an earthy slow blues track like Back On Our Home Ground.
“People have heard that piece thousands of times before, especially blues fans, but along the way something magical happened,” he says, smiling. “There’s something in the vocal performance. I’ve never sung like that before. As you move through the album there’s a lot of examples of me singing ike I never did before. For whatever reason.”
On a roll, he continues: “It was always there in my head: ‘What will people say? Will they think I’m a dickhead?’ which came from Alan Lancaster. He was always frightened by the band not sounding manly enough, you know: ‘How will I face my family?’ Which is weird because we were both Del Shannon fans as kids.”
Whatever the motivation behind its birth, Home Ground has some fantastic lead guitar.
“I agree, but I don’t agree,” Rossi hedges cautiously. “The guitar isn’t fantastic, but as a song it just feels lovely. And that’s the thing with blues, it’s piss-easy to play. It’s based on a lick that I nicked from Stan Webb [of Chicken Shack].”
How does The Accidental compare to the last Quo album, Backbone?
“I don’t think you can compare them,” Rossi says, then ponders before elaborating: “Backbone was made within certain parameters: the whole ‘each member has two-point-two tracks on the album’. And that’s probably my fault. A track needs to make it on its merits.
"There’s a great documentary on Motown Records which revealed that a committee, including Smokey Robinson, went into a room to decide whether or not a track could be released. If Smokey didn’t like it, it didn’t come out. Which led to some incredible rucks. That’s part of what happened with Backbone.
“When John [Rhino] and I write, he won’t come and sit in a room with me, because John must dominate. He can’t help it. And that isn’t a gripe. But Cut Me Some Slack and Backbone [both from Backbone] were too impatient. [Rossi stamps his feet and grimaces]. So I don’t like comparing the two albums, because this one is far superior. But then I would say that, wouldn’t I?”
A decent argument could be made for The Accidental being a superior Quo record to Backbone, but without the title – or some might say ‘the baggage’ associated?
“Oh, it’s definitely baggage,” Rossi stresses. “This is something I should have done years ago. And I mean years ago. It’s something I intended to do after the End Of The Road tour when I did In The Army Now. The title track of that album is me kind of dictating [the direction], but I allowed Pip Williams to do things in production that I may not have done. Pip is a talented guy, but the sound of that album was a bit clinical. Production-wise, with this one there’s much more going on.
“This is a terrible thing to say, but when I left the band I should have ‘stayed left’,” Rossi announces with a shake of the head. “It suited one person in management for Status Quo to continue, and also many others. We were the goose that laid the golden egg, each year was a massive turnover. Looking back I probably begrudge them that, but that’s how the world goes.
“So yeah, I should have dictated some time back,” he continues. “But I was too wimped-out to do it and I lacked the confidence, and of course these two guys – Hiran and Mr Brook – would have been too young. This time there was nothing to stop me.”
Is it exciting or scary to re-brand without the ‘safety net’ of such a prestigious name?
“It’s exciting,” he snaps back. “I’ve done a couple of solo albums before and had quite a bit of success with them. I understand you see those as a bit… not what you are looking for. But as I keep saying, I fucking love this album. And I really hope others that share your own taste will feel the same.”
There has been no official announcement, but with the band having sold off its gear, what is the official status of Status Quo?
“There is none. I don’t intend to do it again,” he insists. “There was no big announcement, because last time we changed our mind and people got really upset. The only time I said it was the End Of The Road tour. The others were nothing to do with me – or Rick. Or any of the others. Certain people said: ‘This will sell tickets. We’ll fool the bastards.’ And that’s what happened. I did not want that happening again.
“I mean, look,” he considers. “I’m doing what I’m doing now [An Evening Of Francis Rossi Songs From The Status Quo Songbook And More…] until June 2027 ,and I dare say some extra dates will be added in Europe. By then I’ll be seventy-eight.”
But if a call from a big summer festival came, offering an equally significant pay cheque?
[Without hesitation] “It’s not enough. I’ve got to have some pleasures.”
Not even something like Glastonbury?
“Alright,” he says, doing the maths in his head. “Let’s just say Glastonbury offers two and a half million – maybe three? I’ve got to do a big chunk of rehearsals. If you think I’m doing less than a week’s rehearsal you can fuck off. So I’ve gotta rehearse, pay for a load of gear, plus crew and travel. It becomes a domino effect. Doing a single show is no good. It would have to be a series of shows to maximise income and to ensure the band is good enough to do it.”
It’s tough to envisage how Rossi might find the time, but what about touring The Accidental?
“I can fantasise about that happening… if it is successful,” he replies. “But it would have to do very, very well for the same reasons as above. I would need to finance a band, because I do very, very well out of this. I do better out of this than I do with Quo, which is ridiculous [throws his arms in the air for effect].
"It makes money! People say I shouldn’t mention that, but too bad. It makes money. I’m not throwing away three-quarters of what I’m paid, maybe more, in costs. So I would play Glastonbury again [with Quo]? Yawn fucking yawn."
The ‘this’ he refers to in “I do very, very well out of this” is the ‘audience with’ tours. Are they as satisfying as being in a band?
“At the moment, yes. It may be a novelty, but I’ve got thirty or forty years for that to wear off,” he says with a chuckle. “For a while, Status Quo was a novelty. I enjoyed being part of a team, but the shine diminished a bit when we became really successful. It wasn’t enough for Rick. He and I began to fall out. People got between us. We split from Lancaster [who died in 2021]. A lot of things went on. But with this,” he says, beaming, “there is nobody to fall out with.”
Does he think Rick would like The Accidental?
“With respect, I don’t really care,” he replies breezily. “He would never be truthful about that. I dreamt about him two nights ago. I still dream about him when he was still the Rick I loved, when he had a smile on his face and we enjoyed each other’s company. He told me: ‘I wish I could do what you’re doing.’ And I told him: ‘You can. We both learned how to do this years ago. We both know how to do this.’ But he told me: ‘I don’t have the songs you have.’ And that’s not my fault.
“If Rick was here, he wouldn’t be truthful about whether or not he liked the album,” Rossi elaborates. “He couldn’t be. Somebody had put something between him and I. He wasn’t just envious, he was jealous. I know people don’t want to hear me saying such things, but they’re true.”
If Quo are ‘over’, how does Rossi look back at the band’s career?
“Maybe with a little more nostalgia than I used to,” he says. “In the past I was so foolish when I really thought I knew what I was doing. I’m ashamed of some of the things I did musically. I wish I learned better. There was something within Status Quo that once we were successful, that was it – we didn’t need to learn anything any more.”
It angered fans that Rossi criticised the Frantic Four (Rossi, Parfitt, John Coghlan, Alan Lancaster) reunions, and once described their so-called ‘classic years’ as “a few moments of brilliance and sixty-to-seventy per cent shit”.
“But I also said: ‘Like every other band on the planet’, which was left out. So that quote was out of context,” he insists. “But I cannot see Quo as sacred. Occasionally I hear something we did and think: ‘Fuck me, that’s brilliant.’ Clips from Milton Keynes at the End Of The Road, I didn’t know we were that good. But afterwards the arrogance took over.”
Don’t go expecting a Rossi U-turn on those Frantic Four comments.
“No. It was shameful,” he says through gritted teeth. “In Wolverhampton, John even complained about being hot on stage. People say: ‘It was just like the old days.’ But no. The old days were better than that. When the old band was firing, it was shit-hot.”
Does Rossi even give a damn what the outside world might think of The Accidental?
“If people don’t like it, that might hurt a little,” he admits. “While making it I was almost playing with myself, and finishing the thing was a bit like when you need a pee – thank god for that.”
The Accidental is out now. Francis Rossi's Quo Songbook - Past, Present, Future tour kicks off in September.
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