Rip-roaring Robbie Williams

Interview, March, 1999 by Ray Rogers

Robbie Williams swears he can't sing - or maybe that's just part of his vaudeville act. The flamboyant singer has risen from the ashes of Take That to become the darling of British pop

Is Robbie Williams pop's new poster boy or just another rock 'n' roll swindle? Perhaps both. By his own admission, the former Take That vocalist is talent-impaired on the musical front. But when it comes to showmanship, his wild card antics have given him a winning hand. Having swept the year-end polls in Britain - he scored a record six Brit Award nominations - and throughout Europe, where he was named MTV's best male performer, the twenty-five-year-old winking prankster from the industrial town of Stoke-on-Trent is setting his sights on American soil. His U.S. debut, a combination of his two multiplatinum U.K. albums, is due out in May. Its smartly self-conscious pop songs could well reach fans of all the boys: Pet Shop, Backstreet, maybe even the Beasties.

It's the flint time Williams will be introduced to American audiences. By the time his former group Take That had its flint and only U.S. hit, "Back for Good," Williams had already been booted from the fresh-scrubbed teen act for his rebelliousness. Rather than play the role of the boy next door, Williams was more of the juvenile delinquent down the street: His substance abuse and romantic shenanigans became constant fodder for the London tabloids.

After focusing his energy and emerging as a solo artist, Williams recaptured public attention as the endearingly naughty boy of Britpop. And while he doesn't take himself seriously, he has gotten the stamp of approval from adoring pop fans, not to mention the rock 'n' roll set (he parties with the likes of Oasis and Metallica), the old-timers (his hip-shaking duet with Tom Jones on a British awards ceremony was a showstopper), and some of Britain's most celebrated songwriters - Neil Tennant of the Pet Shop Boys and Neil Hannon of the Divine Comedy collaborated with Williams on "No Regrets," a bittersweet song about his breakup with Take That. Can he conquer the rest of the world next? Ready or not, here he comes.

RAY ROGERS: Hello, Robbie. How are you?

ROBBIE WILLIAMS: I'm good. I'm sat right next to a pool. Is this called a cabana? I'm in a cabana, and a shag long - a chaise lounge.

RR: Congratulations on your nominations.

RW: Thank you very much. I've been nominated for six things, I don't know what they are. I think it's everything apart from anything to do with female. That will be next year; we're working on it. I'm thinking of having a sex change. I keep winning all the best male categories. It's getting boring now, so what I'm gonna do is just have the snip. Me and Alan Morissette - she's gonna go male next year.

RR: Can you recall the first show you ever put on, or when you realized you were meant to perform?

RW: Me mum tells this story about when I was three and we were on holiday in Spain and she lost me. She was worried and she went around the hotel looking for me. She eventually found me and I'd entered myself into a competition. I came onstage singing "Summer Nights" from Grease as John Travolta. That's when she first realized that I was gonna do something. After that I got a hat; I passed it around the pool and started singing for potato chips.

RR: And that's at age three? Are you putting me on?

RW: No, no, I'm not. For two years I did nothing at all.

RR: When you were in Take That, was being a pep star the goal, or were you interested in being taken seriously musically?

RW: [laughs] I was never gonna be taken seriously in Take That.

RR: I mean, for you, inside, did you want to be taken seriously?

RW: No. To tell you the honest truth I got into music by mistake, completely and utterly by mistake. I started acting when I was eight - I did a lot of theater. My mother wanted me to go to college but I wanted to be an actor. When my exam results came through I was just shitting myself because my mother was going to throw me out of the house. So I auditioned for everything I could - every TV and theater thing that came up - and one of these auditions was for a band called Take That. So, now I've got the most interesting hobby anybody could ever have, but I'm an actor, really.

RR: IS being a pop star all about acting?

RW: Oh, most definitely. And I'm getting away with it, which is the funniest thing. I can't really sing.

RR: You don't think so?

RW: No, not really. I'm just having a whale of a time. For somebody who doesn't really sing - just writes a few lyrics and sings a few melodies - I've sold four million albums. That's the biggest laugh of the last decade.

RR: IS there any part of you that does long for credibility as a singer-songwriter?

RW: Not really. I enjoy having a laugh. I take that very seriously. I don't claim to be a Thom Yorke, a Noel Gallagher, a Jarvis Cocker, or a Marilyn whatever-his-name-is. I'm not them. I don't do that. I'm vaudeville, and I'm doing it in a '90s fashion.

RR: DO you think the line from your song "Millennium" - "Get up and see the sarcasm In my eyes" - helps to explain why so many people are relating to what you're doing? That they get the sarcasm?