Remember staring at all your dad’s vinyl records as a wee blighter, marveling at all that art, some great but some absolute gubbins? Here at Clash we still do that, and today it’s the turn of Glasgow’s RM Hubbert as Matthew Bennett grills him (wrongly) on handicapped robotic dogs and polynesian fertilty gods.
When I first saw it I thought it was the acclaimed Scottish novelist and artist Alisdair Gray but deep, deep into the future.
Yeah, it does a bit. It’s from a series of dying robots from an artist called Simon Wilson. But it’s actually me! Look, I have the same tattoos on my forearms (pulls back his sleeves). And that there is my dog D-Bone.
Wow! It looks like a lost Turner painting, though admittedly Turner never quite got round to painting robots.
It does a bit, aye, and it’s a shame Turner didn’t do robots. But no; it’s me and D-Bone on Troon beach in Scotland.
OK, the questions I’ve prepared may be a bit offensive. I wasn’t expecting you to say this was your dog! To me D-Bone looks either like he’s mentally handicapped or he’s taking a shit! Look at that vacant expression.
Well, he definitely loves to take a shite. And he’s a happy dog. And he’s never happier than taking a shite.
And where are you walking to?
Probably to Troon’s infamous chip shop.
You look a bit on the back roller. Are you worried about something or just hungover?
A bit of both. If I am down on the beach it must mean that I’m hungover. I suppose this is the part where I plug all the musical content, but I just can’t do it.
And why do you have what looks to be Polynesian fertility gods tattooed onto your arms?
Well, I do in real life! Except they are really candy skulls and waves. I’ve fucked this up haven’t I by telling you it’s me and my dog?
And what’s going on with the different coloured eyes? Is this a reference to rivalling David Bowie as a songwriter?
I think that’s just artistic interpretation from Simon. But if you look carefully then so does D-Bone.
Oh yeah! David Bow-wowie. So how does all this tie in with your music?
It was written after me and my wife split up. We were fighting over D-Bone. So it’s a family portrait. It’s us as rusty robots.
Rusty indeed. Your torso looks like a 1930s water boiler. Though you’ve got a great pelvis.
Thanks, it’s all about the pelvis for me. It goes right back to Elvis. The painting ties in with an overall theme of the album, which was breaking out of solitude and reconnecting with people. That’s what the title is about as well; there were thirteen collaborators who I’d lost touch with, and the ‘lost’ was where I was when I started the album.
Interview by Matthew Bennett