Building the Table‘We’re making this one up on the spot’ reveal the band, before tearing open encore ‘John Mellor’ and icing another eclectic evening at The Royal Oak. So where does this unholy racket originate? Orphan Boy hail from sunny Cleethorpes (why does the word ‘sunny’ always appear before Cleethorpes?), but currently reside in crummy Manchester (I have a vendetta against Manchester, for various reasons). Curtailing the asides, the band consists of Rob Cross on guitar and vocals, Paul Smith on bass and vocals, and Chris Day on drums: a three-piece of Clash/Jam/Dexys roots and influence. ‘People assume we are into The Clash, Libertines and Arctic Monkeys because we play fast songs with guitars’, denounces Rob, ‘but we’re into all kinds of music: from dance to reggae. Hopefully we can branch out and incorporate these influences more as we develop’. ‘Chris is into German porn music’ chips in manager Guy Keeble; and the tone is set for the interview. Orphan Boy are indeed very serious about their own music, but not without a touch of sassiness which makes them all the more endearing as a group. A charming bunch of gritty pretenders, the band carry the gang mentality off without a hint of cliché; resonating in the strength of their on stage repertoire. This is paying swift dividends, with the band signed to the Manchester based ‘Concrete Recordings’ label and a string of high-profile live dates already completed: such as Manchester’s ‘In The City’, and, of course, our very own Doghouse. But what else is on the horizon? ‘We want to make a great album’, enthuses Smiffy. ‘We’ll take the slow road, unlike a lot of bands you hear on the radio these days. They’re usually thrown into the spotlight too early and have no substance to back it up.’ So what do the Orphans think of their contemporaries? ‘You’ve got to have depth in your music. We are different from the likes of The Arctic Monkeys because our lyrics aren’t about real life trivialities, more about warped characters that we know’, explains Rob. ‘We’re not reacting against The Arctic Monkeys though, more like [reacting against] these shit guitar bands like the Kaiser Chiefs and The Fratellis. All their lyrics are so throwaway: “Nah-nah-nah”. It won’t last, it won’t be remembered.’ Cue Smiffy: ‘We’re not going to get that support gig with The Fratellis now, are we?’ It is obvious that the band are happy to do things in their own time and in their own way. Toeing the line is simply not an option for three 20-something punk-popists from Grimsby, and, for me, there is something refreshing about their attitude. So many bands find themselves lost in the quagmire of mediocrity, enforced by the need to ‘broaden their potential listening spectrum’, or other such industry spewed buzz-kill jargon words to that effect. Orphan Boy, on the other hand, are faced with two possibilities: to conquer and pillage, or burnout and fade. For their sakes I hope it is the former, but I’m sure they will enjoy whatever hand fate may deal. ‘In five years time we could be all inside’, remarks Smiffy. ‘I just want to look back and say we did it our way’, exclaims Rob. ‘I want to get wasted on Crystal Meth’ states Chris. I leave the band with one final question: are they filling a hole or carving a niche? ‘We’re building the table’ retorts Smiffy. Good answer.
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