Johnny Borrell, singer, guitarist
I was working at Stamford Bridge doing match-day security in the players' tunnel and escorting the players to their cars after the game. I would stand between the dressing room and the press area so I could hear the half-time speeches and watch most of Chelsea's games. That's once every 10 days, and still the biggest job I've ever done. So when Mercury offered me half a million quid, I was kind of like: “Well, I mean, I don't know …”
I used to live above a Nigerian clothing store called La CC. I had a bed, a record-player, a desk and a fridge for beers. I was thinking that if I wanted to be a songwriter, I would have to write every hour. I was fully focused. I would sit and think: “Most of my favorite songs are only three chords. If I play three chords for eight hours, hopefully a good song will come out.
I played A, G#m and C#m and sang: “I know someone with a golden hand / You better get him / If you can.” If I can figure out the first line – I know who I'm talking to and what I'm trying to say – the rest tend to follow. Queens of Noise DJ Mairead Nash was a good friend of mine and part of our gang. It was us, the libertines and the Mairet. I thought of her story. Once I wrote: “I know a girl/ She has enough/ She has too much” and I thought, “Boom! There is a song.”
I still have all the records. Sometimes I listen back and it's like watching Gazza at Italia 90, sliding in at the far post and thinking “keep in touch” and you know he's not going to go. You can hear me coming up with the first verse that crystallizes the song. Then you hear my old flip-phone ringing. I put down my guitar and said, “Hello.” If the phone had rang two minutes earlier, I would never have written the song.
Björn Ågren, guitarist
In Leyton, East London, there was a small rehearsal space near an ice rink. It must have been evening because I was the only one with normal work. I was selling jeans at Diesel, so they had to wait until I finished. The beginning of rehearsal was treat time, because Johnny would often go: “I've got a new song.” He would sit on the couch and play it on his electric guitar. I remember actually being on the ground. I told him: “The verse is absolutely brilliant, but the chorus doesn't soar.” At the next rehearsal he had the chorus. I thought: “Now that's killer.”
I learned about chord inversions that are commonly used by organ-players so they can sit in a frequency range that allows them to blend better with other instruments. One effect is that the arm doesn't have to move as much. The chorus before Golden Touch is a great illustration of chord inversions on the guitar – two chords repeated twice I play further up the neck. The first sheet music I remembered was the Razorlight album, and I looked at my guitar parts and thought I must have looked like a simpleton. “A five-year-old can play this!” I thought.
We were recording some demos and decided that Golden Touch was one of our best songs, so we should improve on it. We quickly had an album's worth, but after changing producers a few times, we scrapped most of what we recorded – except for Stumble and Fall, which became our first single, as well as Rip It Up and Golden Touch, from the beginning to the drums. You can hear some thigh-slapping and breathy backing vocals on the last verse of Golden Touch, which was recorded a few days before we finished the final mix.
I don't think we did a gig without playing Golden Touch. It has had a few live iterations over the years. It has a nice groove so you can really get into it when you play. We do a little piece where we absolutely die and people sing along and it's 20 years old. Even at a festival, when we're at 3 p.m., I'll think: “Surely there's not going to be any Super Razorlite fans here?” But of course, people sing along. It's amazing that you can create something with that kind of vibe.
