Just call me mellow Pellow: Wet Wet Wet frontman Marti on battling addiction and rebuilding his career as a star of musical theatre
He can smile about it now, but the singer with the megawatt grin knows how close drink, drugs and Love Is All Around came to killing him. Marti Pellow tells Event how leaving Wet Wet Wet for the (dry) West End turned his life around
Marti Pellow is replaying, somewhat ruefully, the glory days of Wet Wet Wet in his mind. ‘I’m smiling, smiling – always smiling away. People send me old stuff from YouTube, and I’ll watch it and think, “Stop it, Marti! Come on, just dial it down a wee bit.”’
The megawatt grin that brightened thousands of bedroom walls still dazzles, but it’s deployed sparingly these days. Having survived fame (‘a whole bunch of s*** comes to live in your head rent free’), heroin addiction (‘it could have gone either way’), breaking up his band (‘I wasn’t thinking straight’) and the loss of his immediate family, Pellow recognises that a smile is a precious thing.
Having survived fame (‘a whole bunch of s*** comes to live in your head rent free’), heroin addiction (‘it could have gone either way’), breaking up his band (‘I wasn’t thinking straight’) and the loss of his immediate family, Pellow recognises that a smile is a precious thing
Over black coffee in an upmarket hotel in central Glasgow, he resembles both the pop pin-up he once was and the more mature entertainer he has become since carving out a successful second career in musical theatre. The cardigan and glasses befit his 51 years, but the shirt unbuttoned to the midriff and silver chains adorning his wrists and jeans betray a youthful streak.
He’s in a good place, happy at home with his long-term partner, former model Eileen Catterson, and creatively energised. Making his new album, Mysterious – a classy exercise in Seventies soul, funk and R&B – reminded him of the early days of Wet Wet Wet. Formed in Clydebank by four schoolmates, between 1987 and 1999 they had 26 hits, including Wishing I Was Lucky, Goodnight Girl and Love Is All Around, a Troggs cover that lodged at No 1 for so long – 15 weeks – in 1994, even the band sickened of it.
‘In the worst week, it was selling 150,000 copies,’ says Pellow. ‘I thought, who on earth is buying this? We eventually deleted it. It was time to put it to bed, give someone else a shot.’
Mark McLachlan (his stage moniker combines a teenage nickname with his mother’s maiden name) sang at family parties from an early age, but it wasn’t until his teens that he realised he possessed a gift. ‘People would shut up and lean forward. I loved that. It felt powerful.’ When he decided to sing for his supper, however, his father was dubious. ‘Our family was all building trade and shipyards. He knew a man who could get me a job as a rough caster, but he didn’t know a man who could get me on Top Of The Pops.’
Pellow with Wet Wet Wet in 1988
It turned out Dad had nothing to worry about. Released in 1987, the Wets’ – as everyone, including Pellow, calls them – debut album, Popped In Souled Out, reached No 1, selling 2.5 million copies. It must have been mind-boggling: all that success, all those girls... ‘Aye, I absolutely got the most out of it,’ he says with the ghost of a twinkle in his eye.
Thirty years on, it’s the ‘silly little’ things that linger. ‘Getting Tom Jones’s tour bus to take us to our first Top Of The Pops. We’re running up and down the corridor like kids. “Look, it’s got a bed!” We toured with Elton John and played the Hollywood Bowl. I’m singing away, and there’s Leonard Nimoy. “Elton, Elton, Spock is in the audience!”’ Pellow makes the Vulcan salute. ‘I think people liked that enthusiasm, there was a lovely innocence about it.’
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Yet as the front man, Pellow quickly discovered that fame isolated him from his friends. ‘We get our picture taken, and the record company goes, “You’ve got a good-looking singer there!” We struggled with that internally, in the quiet hours: “They always want you up front,” the band would say. I’d say, “That’s my job, that’s part of the game, and a whole bunch of stuff comes with it. Some good, and a whole bunch of other s*** that lives in your head rent free.”’
From the outside, he was living the dream. He had £3m in the bank, fancy wheels in the garage and, while on tour, had curries delivered around the world from his favourite Glasgow takeaway. He sighs. ‘Materialistic c***. I’m glad to say I’m done with that. I’m not cool with getting a gull-wing Mercedes any more. I’ve had the big house: “Magic, now what?” It’s not how you should define what you’re about.’
He’s more prudent these days. ‘I’m canny, but I have moments when I’m like, “I’ve earned that and I’m having it.”’
After ten years, the Wets disintegrated. Drummer Tommy Cunningham bailed after the band tried to reduce his share of royalties. ‘I’ve sat Tommy down on numerous occasions and apologised for that,’ says Pellow. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight, I didn’t see the ramifications. We’d worked ten years solid. By the 10 album [in 1997] it was time to hang it up. I was wasted.’
For someone who never felt wholly comfortable in his own skin, fame exacerbated feelings of isolation. Already drinking heavily, Pellow turned to heroin in 1996, becoming secretive and defensive. ‘I was like, “There’s nothing wrong with me!” All that arrogance and denial, textbook stuff.’ He hated shaving because it meant confronting reality in the mirror. ‘You see yourself and go, “Wow, what happened?” Horrible. Nasty.’ It took an overdose in Chelsea’s Conran Hotel for the penny to drop that his addiction might kill him. ‘I was lucky enough to have that conversation with myself: “Marti, this could go either way.” I knew where it was going.’
In 1999, he checked in to The Priory and has been clean and sober ever since. He describes himself as ‘a work in progress, but to be able to get your life back is tremendous. I’m so, so proud of that. Everything else springs from that. It’s such a big thing, and something I cherish.’
His rejuvenation led to a move into musical theatre. Previously, his experience was limited to ‘sitting on the couch on Saturday afternoons watching musicals with my ma on BBC2, waiting for Play Away.’ It was The Who’s Pete Townshend who first sniffed out his potential. ‘Pete showed an interest in me doing Tommy. He thought I could do it, but I really didn’t. Jump forward to 2002 and he asked me to do a night for the Teenage Cancer Trust.’ Pellow’s performance with Ruthie Henshall, fresh from performing Chicago on Broadway, impressed two producers in the audience, and led to the role of Billy Flynn in Chicago. ‘I wavered, but I thought, with the right people around me, and some graft, I could do it. I was getting my act together, and more open to the power of suggestion. I like it when people see things in me that I wouldn’t necessarily see in myself.’
Since then Pellow’s credits have included The Witches Of Eastwick, Evita and working with Sir Tim Rice – ‘massive Wets fan’ – on Chess. ‘I love the discipline of eight shows a week. I got off on that. It isn’t Groundhog Day, that’s the fascinating thing. How you interact every night, with the other actors, with the audience, is always different. That’s where the challenge lies.’
Marti with partner Eileen Catterson in 1995
But for now, his eye is on his pop career. Mysterious, recorded at Ocean Way Studios in Los Angeles, is ‘the most focused I’ve been on making a record for such a long time.’ Meanwhile, Wet Wet Wet resolved their differences in 2004 and remain a big-hitting live draw.
For a band that wrote songs about social issues and worked in Memphis with Al Green’s producer, Willie Mitchell, the lack of critical kudos used to rankle. ‘I’d imagine a Cool Table, a faceless panel judging how unhip we were,’ Pellow admits. ‘There was friction, but I think that’s youthful insecurity. Now, quite frankly, I couldn’t give a f***. Temptation, Angel Eyes, Sweet Little Mystery… they’re pop songs that speak. I’ll take that.’
Having left Glasgow 20 years ago, his frequent visits home are bittersweet since the death of both parents and his brother John. He has a host of nieces and nephews, but as for fatherhood, it’s a case of ‘never say never’.
A perfect day at his home in Windsor is one spent with ‘a nice wee sandwich and a Coke, sitting watching the Ealing classics, or the original 39 Steps. It’s raining outside, and I’ve got a pot of home-made soup on.’ He throws his arms wide and unleashes that nuclear smile. ‘Life’s good, man!’
‘Mysterious’ is out on March 10. Marti Pellow tours the UK from March 15. martipellowofficial.co.uk
