Meursault: Chatting With Tongues

In these cold, recession-baiting days, loyalty gets you zip - and in the murky world of the music industry it gets you even less. Sure, your band’s established a devoted following and put on a few gigs in the local boozer; you’re even quoted as never, ever wanting to leave Scotland’s blustery shores. But when push comes to shove and you’re staring face first into the abyss – otherwise known as the 12.30 to King’s Cross – can you really resist the lure of the all-consuming A&R machine? Meursault founder Neil Pennycook thinks he can...

“I know nothing about how PR companies work but my impression is that you’re better off being rooted and having a loyal fanbase,” says the shaven-haired 27-year old as he chats about his band’s future in Auld Reekie. “The idea is that the momentum we’ve built up in Edinburgh will carry us and bring us to people as naturally as possible without being forceful and cramming it down anyone's throat. We don’t have a super-duper A&R team behind us - we’d rather success came to us.”

The difference between Neil and other prize-eyeing musos blurting out similar mission statements is this: he practises what he preaches. He’s frontman of one of the country’s most promising new bands - a group who in the wondrously evocative Pissing On Bonfires/Kissing With Tongues have created one of Scotland’s records of the year - but he’s also a co-conspirator in the Edinburgh-based music collective Bear Scotland Presents.

“Bear Scotland Presents is just an umbrella name for ourselves and others in and around Edinburgh making music,” explains Neil as he sips his Sunday ale. “It’s a group of local bands like us, Les Enfant Bastard, Withered Hand, Dead Boy Robotics and The Foundling Wheel making music together. And if you come and see a Meursault show and buy a record you’ll see the little ‘Bear Scotland Presents...’ logo and hopefully look it up and go and see other bands through that. It seems like a nice idea and for a city like Edinburgh, where there’s not been much of a scene until now - it can only be a good thing.”

As anyone whose witnessed the band live will testify, Meursault and their soiree of synth-scratched folk trinkets – crafted by an eclectic blend of instrumentation that includes banjo, accordion, ukulele and cajon drums - are at the forefront of this sonic rejuvenation.

With the nation’s earlobes slowly unpeeling to the quartet’s heart-melting “ukeleletronica”, does Neil have any long-term game plan for gold-plated success, other than to set it in motion from his doorstep? “This is the one thing I’m confident with and feel I’m pretty good at, so to be able to live and feed myself would be great,” he states with assurance before laughing: “Christ, I don’t fool myself into thinking I’m going to be some Bono-sized rock star. [Pauses] Honestly.”