String king

WHEN Richard Thompson's new solo album is released, listen out for uninvited percussion. The guitarist and singer-songwriter is recording in his own studio and the neighbours have got the builders in.

"I'm recording it at home but they've started rebuilding the house next door," he says. Is it noisy? "Yes. I'm having to record it at two in the morning."

Thompson is often thought of as one of the great English guitarists and song-writers. Paradoxically, he has not lived here for years. Home is west Los Angeles, which houses some 50,000 expat Brits.

"I think it's the biggest expatriot community in the world," he says.

So he does not have to feel nostalgic, thanks to the fish and chip shops and the English pubs. Does he visit such places? "Er, no."

There are others ways for the self-exiled Brit to keep in touch, including BBC America. "I can still watch Coronation Street or What Not To Wear," Thompson says with a chuckle. There is also the Internet. "I can sit at home working and listen to Radio Four."

This conjures up a pleasing mental image of the bearded, beret-wearing Thompson writing his short-story songs with, say, The Archers or the Today programme burbling in the background while the Californian sun shines outside.

On Thursday, Thompson will be playing the Grand Opera House in York. As always, his appearance is a cause of excitement to his loyal fans, who are a determined and quietly fanatical bunch.

Yet not everyone gets the message or appreciates the sometimes mordant wit of the modern folk songs or the guitar playing that comes at you in serpentine curls from a full-volume electric or in lyrical, percussive layers on an amplified acoustic.

Thompson was born in 1946 and came to notice in the 1960s as a founding member of Fairport Convention, the folk-rock pioneers. He released his debut solo album, Henry The Human Fly, in 1971. This is now a minor cult classic, but apparently has the less happy distinction of being Warner Brothers' worst-selling album of all time.

For a decade or so from the early Seventies, Thompson played with his wife Linda, recording albums such as I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight and Shoot Out The Lights.

Since the split from Linda, musical and marital, he has released a series of solo albums, including his best-seller, 1991's Rumor & Sigh, and last year's sparse and wonderful The Old Kit Bag.

Rolling Stone recently gave Thompson a mention in a poll of the best guitarists in the world. He came seventeenth, which is either funny or an insult.

"I think it was 19th actually," says Thompson.

Do such polls mean anything?

"I think it amuses people but are they accurate? No. Kurt Cobain was in the top ten - as a guitarist. He was a great rock performer, but not a great guitarist."

Thursday's gig will be a solo affair, with support from Jim Moray. Thompson enjoys playing with a band and solo, which he sees as different disciplines.

"The response you get from the audience is different," he says.

One characteristic of a Richard Thompson concert, especially the solo shows, is the engaging banter. He gives the impression of being a bit of an entertainer on the side. Does all this come easy?

"No!", Thompson says, with emphasis. "I used to be very shy on stage. I used to hide behind the amp and face the other way."

Now he banters brightly, but sometimes with a sly purpose. "You chat with the audience and tell them a joke and they are expecting something funny, then you slip in a dark song."

Ah, the dark songs. He may have his cheery moments but Thompson dwells in the gloom too. "It's a mix," he says. "In traditional music there's lots of murder and death and dying and dark things - and some of them still go on today."

Thompson hasn't decided what songs to play in York. Presumably there will be something from The Old Kit Bag.

"I'll do some of that stuff," he says. "In America I've tended to do retrospective shows. I've been going back to 1965 and songs I played with my band at school. Then through Fairport and the songs with Linda."

You might have thought people would applaud the early songs, but no. "What I've noticed in the shows is that people don't really pick up on the songs until around 1988-90."

At this point, this article takes a turn especially for guitarists; well, this is an interview with a noted player. Thompson is known for experimenting with open tunings, whereby the guitar plays a chord by itself, as it were. He was influenced in this approach by Davey Graham, the Sixties' folk player who led the way with altered tunings.

Thompson started to try different tunings when he began playing solo. "I tried to adapt songs from the band so that they wouldn't sound empty."

Also, he doesn't go in for pretty strumming. "I have a rock'n'roll attitude to playing acoustic," he says.

Thanks in part to the tuning, his songs can be difficult for amateur guitarist to work out (believe me on this one). "I'm glad it's hard for other people - that's very good," Thompson says, with a chuckle.

Help will come with the compilation of a songbook containing some 120 songs. But this is a long project, first mentioned years ago.

The best luck I have had is with Sights And Sounds Of London Town. That has the bottom E-string dropped to D, doesn't it, Richard? "Yes, and easy chords. You should be all right with that one."

Three of Richard and Linda Thompson's albums from the early Seventies have just been re-released, but not with Thompson's say-so. "I wasn't involved in those at all. Record companies just bring out those things."

While fans who like to hear and own everything may be pleased by the inclusion of rare tracks, Thompson isn't convinced.

"It's a questionable practice. There are reasons why you leave a track off a record. You get to 12 songs and it sounds right."

With that, our chat is over. The friendly voice at the end of the phone, sometimes amused, sometimes serious and occasionally betraying the hint of a controlled stammer, is gone. But not before telling me that he is looking forward to York.

"I'll be visiting the National Railway Museum," he says.

Go there at certain times and he could bump into Jools Holland and start up a jam session.

Updated: 16:18 Thursday, May 20, 2004