Playful Perfectionism: Vennart On 'The Demon Joke' And Life After Oceansize

One of the abiding clichés in contemporary music is the the ageing ‘dinosaur’. You can picture them now: the middle-aged vocalist of a progressive rock band who takes a decidedly more mainstream pop route for their solo career. Phil Collins is the most obvious example, but Rush’s Geddy Lee and Yes’ Jon Anderson have also occupied shallower waters when going it alone.

It seems unfair to place Mike Vennart, former frontman of cult rockers Oceansize, in the same bracket. Even if you ignore the fact that Oceansize were influenced more by Pavement, Mogwai and punk experimentalists Cardiacs than any of the ‘70s giants, Vennart’s talent for crafting intelligent pop melodies was ultimately a big reason for the band’s fanatical fanbase.

According to Vennart, that hasn’t stopped a few journalists from lazily describing him as just another “grey-haired middle-aged proghead”. When you consider that a leading music magazine once described Oceansize as "preposterous", their reaction is hardly surprising. The Manchester-based band boasted a sound that was textural, technical and incredibly dense. It seemed only natural to assume that a Vennart solo album would follow suit.

The chance to release his own material was grasped as an opportunity to do something new, though. He admits to being both proud and astonished that Oceansize successfully accommodated the members’ various musical tastes for so long.

“I really loved being in that band,” he says. “It was a thoroughly constructive experience for a long time, but we were so frustrated by the end. It got to the point where everything had to be approved by the whole band. I know for a fact that some members wouldn’t have liked the melodic, major-key stuff with guitar solos that I wanted to make and now do make.”

To Vennart’s credit, his inclinations were correct. His album, ‘The Demon Joke’, is a superb debut that mixes his old band’s erratic rhythmic stylings with a new-found emphasis on hooks and snappy song structures. Though former bandmates Steve Durose and Richard ‘Gambler’ Ingram provide support on guitar and keys, there’s a melodic ambition that is fresh and accessible. The response to this brew has been almost universally positive, from both fans and critics.

“I’m completely made up with how people have responded to it,” Vennart says. “I made no presumptions that anyone would even want to hear it, especially as it was a long time in the making. After Oceansize broke up I had all these ideas that I initially thought were shit, but they were floating around for about three years. After I became a dad, I was frustrated that I wasn’t getting stuff done. I wanted to be an artist, not just a session player.”

Life post-Oceansize has been a rollercoaster at times. His role as live guitarist for Scottish rock giants Biffy Clyro has seen Vennart jetting round the world and playing to thousands of people. He has also fitted recording his own material around session work for some surprising acts.

“I don’t mind admitting this now, but I actually met the Oceansize guys when we were all music students,” Vennart says. “We didn’t want to admit it at the time but the qualification has proved useful. I did a few dates with James, which involved jamming in front of 1300 people. That was pretty scary.

“A bigger culture shock was playing with Leona Lewis, the former X Factor winner. It was all improvisation and off-the-cuff bluesy licks and things like that. Anyone who listened to our kind of music would probably find it atrocious, but, ironically, I can play it.”

Any suggestion that Vennart has mellowed in his tastes is met with a more defensive response, though, and he points to the heavier moments on ‘The Demon Joke’ as evidence.

“There are still plenty of ‘rock’ moments,” he says. “I still love Black Sabbath and Slayer and all that, but I was definitely less enthused by heavier music towards the end of Oceansize. I’m just not into most new metal music – too many tattooed guys screaming about how they don’t get enough pocket money.

“I’m not even a fan of heavier tracks written for my own bands anymore, like Sleeping Dogs and Dead Lions. I think I just used to get excited seeing Simon Neil from Biffy do the whole Mike Patton thing, but it just doesn’t suit me.”

This evolution was reflected in the setlists for last month’s mini-tour. Alongside album highlights Operate, Retaliate and Duke Fame, Vennart generally chose to perform more atmospheric numbers from his old band’s catalogue. Ultimately, it didn’t matter what was played as the packed-out crowd enthusiastically responded to everything thrown at them, including a cover of Cardiacs classic Big Ship.

“I’m ecstatic at how it went down,” Vennart says. “I’ve spent the last four years wondering what it’d be like to play and tour my own album. Waiting to go on stage before each show has been agonising. It’s just way more nerve-wracking than playing Reading Festival or something, because it’s my songs. It’s just me. The shows were amazing though. Glasgow was particularly great – everyone is so warm and open-minded there. I can take the piss and they actually respond well.”

It’s this type of attitude that sums up Mike Vennart: a performer who is both playful and an absolute perfectionist. Despite his own reservations, he’s managed to produce an album that meets the lofty expectations of both old-time fans and less familiar critics. With an upcoming British Theatre LP on the way (a separate project recorded with Gambler) and a new solo record to follow, it appears that this “dinosaur” isn’t going extinct just yet.  

'The Demon Joke' is out now on Superball Music.

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