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We are sitting in the Dublin studio where The Corrs recorded their new album and the band are exuding a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension. As they play me each of the 15 songs from In Blue over the huge control-room speakers, they shift nervously in their seats.
“We think it’s our best album and we’re very proud of it. But because we are so involved it’s hard to be objective,” says Andrea Corr. “What do you think?” Of course, The Corrs have made another great record. The last album, Talk On Corners, sold almost three million copies and went nine times platinum. But even when you are the biggest band in the land the first playback of a new record to an outsider is always a tense moment, and so I reassure them it sounds fantastic.
“All you can do is make the best album you know how and hope people like it,” says drummer Caroline. “However many records you’ve sold, you can’t organise things so that everybody automatically likes the next one. You have to throw it to the wind and see if it takes.”
This comment typifies the group’s self-effacing modesty. It has become a tired cliché for superstars to claim that success hasn’t changed them, but in the case of Andrea, Caroline and Sharon Corr and their big brother, Jim, it happens to be true.
I first met them five years ago before they had sold any records and were just embarking on their career, full of youthful hopes and dreams. Of all the chart-toppers I have interviewed over the years, they remain the most genuine, down-to-earth and unspoilt by an Irish mile.
There is no doubt that In Blue, the group’s third studio album (and fourth if you count last year’s live MTV Unplugged), will ‘take’ when it’s released on July 17. Despite their apprehension, there hasn’t been a more certain Number One all year.
Everybody knows they look great and can sing prettily but with In Blue, the Corrs have made their most mature and sophisticated album to date, which should establish them as credible major songwriters and distance them from the vacuous manufactured pop currently filling the charts.
If many of the songs are bright and bouncy, the album is also tinged with tragedy. Their mother Jean Corr died of cancer last year while the band were recording, and In Blue is dedicated to her memory.
It includes a moving son called No More Cry, written to help their father Gerry get over his grief.
“We wrote that for Daddy after Mammy died. It’s saying reach out for her love and believe in her love. Stop the pain,” says Andrea. “It really rocks out in the middle like Blondie or Garbage which is the bit that’s really saying break free.”
“It’s our heavy metal track – The Corrs meet Slayer,” Sharon jokes. “It rocks but it’s a bit tongue-in-cheek. We’ve never considered ourselves a rock band and it would be stupid to try and be that. But it felt natural to go there. It was right for the song.”
“I think it’s the most varied album we’ve made,” Jim says after we have finished listening. Ever the perfectionist, even at this late stage, he has still heard little things in the mix that he wants to alter, although any imperfections are imperceptible to the ordinary ear.
“We love so many different types of music and all of our influences are now coming out in what we do,” he adds. “We’ve an identifiable Corrs style in the vocals and the traditional Irish elements are still there in the songs. But beyond that, we are very flexible and versatile. There are so many flavours on this record and I think that’s a strength.”
Sharon, whose soaring violin remains a cornerstone of The Corrs’ sound, agrees. “It feels different in a lot of ways. At times it’s almost R&B and soulful and at other times it’s rock. It reflects how we’ve progressed and what we’ve learned.”
The Corrs have progressed a long way since they started playing in the bedroom of their parents’ home in Dundalk 10 years ago, when Andrea and Caroline were still schoolgirls. They have always been a tremendously close family and the death of their mother came as a devastating blow. When they are on tour they constantly phone home; Andrea continued living in Dundalk with her parents until two years ago and Jim began his musical career playing covers of Eagles and Carpenters songs in his parents’ showband around the bars of Country Louth.
Jean sang and Gerry played keyboards, but as soon as it became apparent what talented offspring they had, they sacrificed their own musical ambitions to support their children.
“Jim was a better musician than we were by the time he was 14,” Gerry once told me. “I knew then it was time for us to move over. We’re so proud of them.”
The proud parents were regular attendees at all the early gigs. Once the band became successful and were off touring the world, they’d fly Jean and Gerry out to see them whenever they hadn’t been able to get back to Dundalk for some time.
The Corrs’ first album, Forgiven, Not Forgotten, appeared in 1995 and Talk On Corners two years later. But it was until June 1998 that they reached Number One for the first time.
Since then songs such as What Can I Do, Dreams and So Young have made The Corrs chart fixtures. The irresistible new single, Breathless, released last week, is set to continue the pattern and the writing credit teams them with another of the world’s biggest hit-makers – Shania Twain’s husband and producers Mutt Lange.
The following day, the group are due to fly to Los Angels to shoot the video for the single in the Californian desert. But the song started in a Swiss forest. “Mutt lives in Switzerland and I went out there to write with him,” says Andrea, who is so suntanned after a two-week holiday in Majorca that she looks more Mexican than Irish.
“It’s a bizarre situation going to meet someone for the first time and trying to write a song with them. But it worked because he was such a lovely guy. We were sitting in his house but then he suggested going up into the forest with his guitar and we wrote Breathless there,” she explains. “It’s a love song and I can’t pretend it’s very profound. It’s tempting someone to make the first move – come on and leave me breathless. You know the scene. The daylight is fading and nothing matters but the two people who are there. It’s tempting that the other person to move it along. But writing with Mutt is like being on a rollercoaster. His songs don’t give you a second’s pause. They’re just hook after hook.”
Caroline began writing the song for their father while sitting alone at the piano at home in Dublin. She then called Andrea and told her she was coming round to work on the song with her. Her sister is somewhat indolent when it comes to songwriting, it seems. “I’m always reluctant to start a song and Caroline has to nag me,” she admits. “Then when we get started I get really exhilarated, you can’t shut me up. Songwriting isn’t contrived. It’s an inspirational thing, so you never know if you can do it again. You’re only as good as your last song and you always fear you haven’t got any more words or melodies in you. So I’m always incredibly nervous before we write a song. It’s true I’ve been known to try and put it off as long as I can.”
Caroline snorts. She has a no-nonsense approach to her sister’s reluctance. “I just call her up and tell her she’s got to do it,” she says, smiling sweetly.
Throughout the playback, Jim has been the quietest of the four, allowing his sisters to chatter among themselves and only contributing when asked his opinion. But finally he asserts his big-brother authority to have the last word. “I hope the record we’ve made speaks for itself. We’ve put our heart and soul into this album.”
Except with three sisters, he is never really going to be allowed the
last word. “Whatever has happened to us over the past three years has ended
up on this record,” Caroline adds. “It’s us. As honest as we could make
it.”