A different class

FOR A bloke whose earliest career moves included playing guitar in run-down Dutch strip clubs, Richard Hawley has gone on to lead an unintentionally glamorous life. A straight-talking Sheffield man whose tastes run more to ale and Henderson's Relish than Bolly and bling, he has none the less worked with some of the starriest names in the business as well as forging an impressive solo career which recently earned him a Brits nomination for British Male Solo Artist.

A guitarist in the criminally overlooked Britpop band the Longpigs and then a key member of Pulp for six years, Hawley has also worked the fretboards for Nancy Sinatra, All Saints and Gwen Stefani. It is an impressive roll call of collaborators but one that was overtaken long ago by his own work. Starting with his eponymous mini-album in 2001, the 41-year-old has gone on to craft a further four albums that showcase his rich voice, grittily romantic lyrics and intuitive feel for a winning melody. His latest, last year's Lady's Bridge, went top 10 and so impressed film director Shane Meadows that he offered to direct the video for 'Valentine', the last single from the album. KT Tunstall, Arctic Monkeys and REM are all vocal fans.

Coming from a family in which his steel worker father played guitar in a rock'n'roll band and his mother sang, it was probably inevitable that their son would become a musician. He first picked up a guitar when he was a child and was proficient before his age hit double figures. By 14, he was touring Germany and Holland with his Uncle Chuck's rock'n'roll band. Their usual guitarist couldn't make it and Hawley's father, Dave, pushed Hawley Jnr forward. Hawley Snr, however, hadn't got the full story regarding the venues they would be playing.

"Chuck had told them we were playing theatres," says Hawley. "The first gig was a strip club in a Dutch steel town. The joint had a revolving stage with a curtain across the middle. We played behind the curtain while the girl took her kit off in front of all the dirty old men. Then the stage would revolve and we would play some rock'n'roll to these blokes who were ignoring us. After 15 minutes, the next girl would come on and the stage would revolve again. We would play from 6pm to two or three in the morning. It was a real eye opener. My mother went mad when she found out."

Hawley credits his parents not just with providing a musical background but with giving him the impetus to record his own material. He had always written his own songs and family gatherings and the tail-end of nights down the pub had taught him that he could sing. He just didn't want to do it professionally. He calls his solo career "completely accidental," saying that he had always been quite happy playing guitar with other bands. His dad helped change his mind.

"My dad said, 'You don't want to get to 65, look back, have had that voice and all them ideas for songs and done nothing with it. Why not just do it? If you put out one little record you'll have done it then.'

"That was what I intended to do," says Hawley. "Put that mini album out and then get on with what I had before. It just didn't work out like that."

Hawley's father died in February last year as his son was recording Lady's Bridge. The album's cover shows Richard in Club 60, the Sheffield venue where his father, decades previously, played with people such as John Lee Hooker and Muddy Waters.

"My dad was an incredible bloke," says Hawley. "I miss him deeply. I really do. I owe him a lot. If it wasn't for his record collection and him being a guitar player there is no way I would be here now. I owe him a great debt which is why I dedicated the album to him."

Right up until the final days, his father was still encouraging his son with a mix of no-nonsense gruffness and blunt humour.

"It was very difficult to not let the events that were happening affect the record," says Hawley. "I tried to keep balanced and keep my eye on the ball. The last thing my dad would say to me every night at the hospice would be 'now then bastard, keep your eye on ball' and then just as I was leaving he'd say: 'and don't forget my ale and fags'."

Just as his parents informed Hawley's work so has his hometown. Sheffield runs through his songs like water through a plant's roots. His previous album, Cole's Corner, was named after a lover's meeting spot in Sheffield. The Lady's Bridge album is named after the city's oldest bridge.

"Historically it connected the poor side of town, where I'm from, to the rich side," says Hawley. "But it's also significant for me because I feel like I've crossed a bridge in my life lately."

He sees Sheffield as a romantic place. Not necessarily in the sense of hearts and roses but as a city where the struggles of ordinary people have played out. He points out that, like a lot of industrial cities, Sheffield is "where a lot of suffering happened". Hawley also draws attention to the city's humour. He reckons it is uniquely "self-deprecating and quite vicious at times but never nasty. It's wry and sharp." It tickles him that the city can be hard and macho but surprisingly friendly.

"You get big, hairy-armed bus drivers," he says. "They're ex-steel workers, covered in tattoos, and they call each other 'love'. It's a disarming sort of kindness. It says 'I'm going to be nice. I'm not a threat even though I look like I'm going to kill you.'"

Given that he is the son of a steel worker from a tough northern city, you might think Hawley would snort into his ale if it were suggested that there is a real tenderness at the heart of his songs. In fact, the opposite is true.

Hawley's website has a lively forum which the man himself often logs on to and chats with fans, and he is amazed at the number of people who e-mail to tell him that his songs have soundtracked significant events in their lives. He jokes that he is glad nobody seems to be using his work as sonic background to suicide or a murder spree, but is genuinely thrilled at how many people choose to walk down the aisle to his songs.

"I save all those messages," he says. "That's real life, that stuff. It's not just another sale."

Left to his own devices, Hawley will happily gas away and bang out jokey anecdotes at a rate of knots. Before he knew about his Brit nomination, he was asked in a TV interview how he would feel about being up for such an award. He replied that he had 'more chance of seeing the Queen's tits'. Having been nominated, he is now especially wary of any letters with a Buckingham Palace franking stamp. It's all good lads-down-the-boozer stuff. However, get him on to the motivation for his solo work and he is deadly serious.

"What would upset me most would be for people to use the word cynical about my solo stuff. When I set out, I specifically wanted to tell my version of the truth and for it to be honest and open-hearted. Having made music for so long, I knew it would be difficult to do that. So much music is here today gone tomorrow and about making a quick buck.

"Every album is like a sliver of my headstone. I know that sounds dark but it's not to me. It's about leaving a legacy even if it's just for a handful of people or for my mum or my missus (Helen] or kids (14-year-old Rosie, Danny Boy, seven, and Louis, five]. It means something. It has value for people's lives and mine as well.

"It's taken a long time but people are gradually beginning to trust that and that is why it moves me when people will use a song of mine to get married to. Married! To me, that's not something trivial. That's really important.

"I want to make music that is graceful without it being up its own arse," he says. "To write beautiful music about steel workers and lovers who meet on the street." v

Richard Hawley plays the ABC, Glasgow (08444 999 990), Saturday. Valentine is out now on Mute www.richardhawley.co.uk