The evolution from the punky garage rock of the The Exiles into the sampling, electro beats of Oui Ja Yes was in no small part the crafting of Kevin McGough. Within both acts, he’s held a steely-eyed ambition to fit into rock and roll tradition – and draw upon its more progressive tendencies – with a new individual sound.
When I meet with Kevin it’s in The Rifleman’s Arms, a stone’s throw from the basement of his parent’s house where it all began. He seems a little wistful as he looks back over ten years of stories, travel, friendship, endless rehearsal, shot-in-the-dark promotion and the high points; the performances. His nostalgia comes as Oui Ja Yes gigs become more sparing, with various members pursuing new things.
If you were to take it back to the very start, it would be Kevin picking up a beaten-up, acoustic guitar his Dad had brought back from a trip to Kenya. From here, various members joined and invariably debuted with an Oasis song (“Live Forever” in Kevin’s case, “Columbia”, “Go Let It Out”). The line-up settled on Kevin, his two brothers Sean and Joseph McGough and school friends Guy Benneworth and Ollie Miller and the effect of their rehearsals from the basement couldn’t have been too far removed from those felt during a Second World War air-raid. Kevin’s Dad may well have cursed the day he purchased that Kenyan guitar as his walls shook with sound of the band nailing a breakdown.
Brothers in a band are notoriously prickly affairs; look no further than the aforementioned Oasis for proof. The Exiles were no different, the other members despairing of the lack of progress during rehearsals as an argument played itself out. Even now, Kevin gleefully remembers the day the band bought their first P.A and his younger brother Joseph was physically too nervous too sing.
The band’s first public appearance came at The Glastonbury Assembly Rooms in 2003 and luckily there were no such problems. From this point, the band has run a strong vein through its members lives, following them from Somerset up to Sheffield and back down to Bristol. From these bases they’ve toured all corners of the country, all the time out of the back of a knackered-looking but implausibly reliable transit van christened ‘Clifford’ (after the over-sized cartoon dog). Kevin lists his personal highlights as appearing at Glastonbury with both acts, on the same bill as Mani from The Stone Roses in Brixton and at The Roadhouse in Manchester. In fact, the Manchester gig is given a romantic tint due to the fact that The Exiles were supporting the new band of Paul Arthurs or ‘Bonehead‘, formerly of Oasis. Quite the realisation of a dream, having stood finding the first chords to “Live Forever” all those years earlier.
The Exiles were an energetic and ever-popular live act, matching tightness of playing with individual flair. I’ve followed them for the duration, from those arms-aloft moments at summer festivals to lugging over-sized speakers up narrow staircases in mid-winter. I even lived with them for a year and starred in a video (“Devil At My Door”). From garage-land to O2 Academy Bristol, they were a part of my youth.
As a follower, I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to tour the indie club circuit. I’ve also found myself stood in dank recording spaces tucked away, from the Neepseed district of Sheffield (where rife prostitution made it the subject of “When the Sun Goes Down” by Arctic Monkeys) to all over Bristol. Kevin reminds me of the time when a representative of a nearby fruit machine factory turned up to complain about the noise. But these spaces, however bleak, spawned songs that were as simply great as “The Boys Will Never Die”, “Two Kinds Of People”, “Exit Poll”, “New Jerusalem” and, yes, I could go on…
In 2009, the band entered it’s second carnation. With Joseph and Guy bowing out, a line-up change meant also an ideological change (in truth already taking place). The sound of the new three-piece matched their new listening tastes; Daft Punk, Holy Fuck and Does it Offend You, Yeah? – Kevin pursued his love of The Chemical Brothers, who for him laid the template in defying genre. “Great music is timeless, it has no genre” he explains.
Largely without guitars and without a lead vocalist, Oui Ja Yes incorporated modern software and use of samples (from Eddie Murphy to Jack Kerouac to Mr. Motivator) and started filling dance floors around the midnight hour. The Exiles had always been experimental, whether it was the unexpected use of a kaooss pad or a solo trumpet; the incorporation of laptops was a natural evolution. It continues still; Kevin referencing Kid Carpet, who hooks children’s toys up to a beat.
At The Rifleman’s, the sun is going down over our nostalgia trip and we’re feeling the effects of the session. I ask Kevin what he thinks of the current state-of-play regarding music. He draws comparisons between the genre-less, accessible and democratic world afforded by the internet and the slick and cynical manufactured nature of the mainstream. Through the journey of the garage band that incorporates a decade of all forms of life, it’s fairly obvious which side of the fence he stands on.
To find out more about the band and listen to samples of their work go to www.myspace.com/ouijayes
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