JOHN EARLS

Over the course of a three decade-plus career, Paul Heaton has channelled British society’s peculiarities into infectious, chart-friendly pop songs

© Alex Lake

Paul Heaton was the subject of a Twitter storm recently. Don’t worry – he’s much too decent to face being cancelled for a dubious outburst. Instead, social media’s consensus wondered why someone who’s been making smart, funny pop music look easy and natural for 35 years has never won a major award. Whether in The Housemartins, The Beautiful South or Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott, Paul hasn’t been blessed with a BRIT or Ivor Novello, nor has his music been recognised by NME or Q’s ceremonies.

It’s a ludicrous oversight, but one Paul is easily able to explain. “I’m the opposite of a musicians’ musician,” he smiles. “I’m not the artistic figure who seems tortured and I don’t know if you can change people’s attitudes. It doesn’t rankle, as the Ivor Novellos and BRITs are for popularity, and Q and NME are for being hip. I did actually get a BRIT once, but that was for Best Video for A Little Time – which was our only one around then that I didn’t direct! At the time, I was very nervous and under-confident, so I just said, ‘Thanks a lot, ta’, as I didn’t want to say anything that might spoil people’s Champagne. I think there’s a perception that I’d always be like that.”

A few years ago, Paul was asked to present a prize at Hull’s local businesses awards. Knowing nothing about business, Paul – who championed his former hometown on The Housemartins’ album London 0 Hull 4 – politely declined, only to be informed he should reconsider because “the person who names the roads in Hull will be there.” Paul’s response? “I told them I’d want Paul Heaton Boulevard, with a fountain at one end and a statue of me at the other, I’m not going to do it for a cul-de-sac. Whereas now, I’d take anything. I’d do it for a table.”

Paul is right: he doesn’t exactly seem a tortured artist. If the nation’s awards judges haven’t recognised the brilliant craftsman hiding in plain sight, at least the public have woken up to his talents again, ever since he got back with The Beautiful South singer Jacqui Abbott. Paul has long claimed he’s at “my most intelligent” when he’s writing lyrics, but he should be awarded a storytelling prize by journalists, too: he’s got an unbeatable gift for insight into songwriting mixed with a hilarious mischief for scorning serious analysis. Talking about how he’s rarely able to revisit song ideas, despite having a great potential melody floating in his head since 1986, Paul insists: “I’m a great believer that I’ve only got a certain amount of headspace. If I shove an idea in, something else comes out the other side. That’s my excuse when my wife asks if I can change a lightbulb. ‘If you want that bulb changed, I will be down a couple of songs on the next album. What do you want? Money or the lightbulb?’ By which time Linda has already changed the bulb and is putting the stepladder away.”