Rhodri Marsden


1. Who are you?

The saviour of pop music, the man you queue to talk to at parties, wit, raconteur and exceptional creator of spaghetti primavera.

2. No, really, who are you?

Rhodri Marsden, unsuccessful songwriter and sporadically amusing writer.

3. What are you up to at the moment?

Digesting an enormous plate of spaghetti primavera while adding handclaps to the song “Don’t Come Cheap” in the tiny room in my flat that laughably passes for a “studio”.

4. What three rules would make up your manifesto?

1. Don’t be scared to fail.
2. Don’t reuse scouring pads for months on end; they harbour germs and they’re cheap, for chrissakes, you bunch of cheapskates.
3. Don’t be fooled into thinking that you have a lucky number. You haven’t.

5. If you were the dictator of a modern industrial country, what would you abolish? What laws would you implement?

I would abolish Saturday night television and force people to have a nice chat instead. I’d abolish religious worship and try unsuccessfully
to persuade people that when you die, look, you just rot in the ground… and this would probably trigger an extremely bloody uprising.
Still. I had a go.

6. What are your lyrics about?

The basic concerns of a sensitive, caring and above all overweight man in his mid-30s. Trying not to annoy ones partner too much, striving for
some kind of security in ones old age, fine wines. Utility companies. The usual.

7. What is your opinion on the contemporary music scene? What do you like/dislike?

I am so far outside the contemporary music scene that I’m blundering about some nearby woods in the pitch black, bumping into trees and
bushes while stepping on small woodland creatures and Billy Joel. I like and admire Host, The Country Teasers, Montana Pete, Keith John
Adams, Scarlet’s Well. All of these people are friends of mine. This either marks me out as very loyal or supremely unadventurous.

8. What distinguishes you from your peers?

Location. We don’t all live together. There just isn’t enough room.

9. Where do you see yourself in five years time?

In an enormous house in the country, beautifully maintained, with a fantastic garden and some wonderful children. Sadly I’ll just be
visiting for the day.

10. Any regrets?

The size of aforementioned plate of spaghetti primavera.