Stepping into the control room of New York’s legendary Avatar Studios, a place that has recorded everyone from Bon Jovi to Devo, the emotive sound of Charlie Waller’s voice drifts through the mixing desk’s monitors as a tape captures every vocal nuance. His band, The Rumble Strips, have come to Manhattan to record a follow up to their critically acclaimed debut Girls & Weather with Grammy award winning producer Mark Ronson. As Waller sings a new track entitled “Already Dead”, Ronson closes his eyes and nods his head back and forth, oblivious to everything in the room apart from the vaguely Spectorish sounds coming out of the speakers. As the take comes to an end, Ronson walks into the band’s recording studio and announces, tongue firmly in cheek, “That was in the pocket. Now let’s rock it”. After three more versions, the rest of the band hit the roof for well deserved roll ups and coffee while Ronson and Waller discuss what brought the British band to Manhattan for what could be the defining album of their career. Interview by Tim Noakes

MARK RONSON: I first heard The Rumble Strips when I picked up the seven inch of Amy’s Back to Black single. I was intrigued because that was the only one that I wrote with her. I just loved it the minute it came on. I loved the way the band changed the feel around and was blown away by Charlie’s voice. 

CHARLIE WALLER: When we got asked to remix it, we had no idea what to do, because we don’t know anything about remixing.

MR: it was especially cool for me because I just spent the year getting blasted for covering other people’s songs, so it was nice to hear someone else to cover an actual song I wrote.

CW: The only way we could think of doing it was to bump out the chords and just replay it as a backing. Then while we were doing that we did a version without her, because we are really bad at playing swing music. So we just straightened it out.

MR: I have always liked that idea of people taking a song and putting their own spin on it. I love that go beyond the traditional two guitars, bass, and drum arrangements. Our shared love of horns is something people talked about when they heard I was producing your record. It’s quite an easy punch line. I don’t go to sleep every night cuddling a trumpet, it’s just something that I put on my record because I noticed no one was using it and it was a new voice. I’m sick of horns right now. I told Tom and Henry that we aren’t going to have many horns on the records; I’ve imposed a horn embargo.

CW: As far as these new songs are concerned, we haven’t been writing horn songs – they have been much more piano led. It’s been an interesting process. We’ve only had one other studio experience with our first album, and we were playing those songs for years. This is more like writing an album, so it’s good to have fresh ears to help cut away the fat.

MR: Pharrell and Timbaland’s whole thing is that people go to them because they want their signature sound. And I prefer to see myself in the league of more classical producers like Quincy Jones or Phil Spector. Your role is to come in and see how you can make the band and their songs sound the best they can, rather than how can I put my stamp on this.

CW: Working with you seemed more organic than that because I had played with you at the Electric Proms, and we hung out a bit before we knew we were going to work together. It wasn’t like ‘let’s get this big-shot producer we’ve never met who’s going to make us rich!’

MR: All the best things I’ve ever worked on are just people I’ve come across circumstantially. It’s always been like that and I consider most of the people I work with as good friends. I guess I’m lucky enough not to work with any dickheads. I try to stay away from them.

CW: I think our first record was kind of frantic, and the words were pretty miserable in most of the songs. I think the rest of the band has got past being miserable apart from me.

MR: Are you a tortured artist, Charlie?

CW: I’m just tortured. I like rock and roll.

MR: I suppose with all the 14-hour days in here I must be a slave for something; it better be for rock and roll. I love the way the drums sound on this record. There’s a song called “Running on Empty”, and when the drums come in it sounds like a stampede of elephants raping a herd of buffalo, trampling on baby gorillas.

CW: Funny enough, that is what the song is about.

MR: It’s the kind of thing Quentin Tarantino is going to wet his pants about and try to license it for his next film.

CW: It’s certainly cool to be recording in America at this moment in history. We went down to Times Square when Obama got elected and everyone was going crazy. Then we went to that party you were having…

MR: And you saw Puffy doing a Congo line. It was fucking insane. 

CW: You don’t se that in Devon. Puffy should come and do the conga in Devon.

MR: Is there a lot of famous people from Devon?

CW: The Trogs are from Somerset.

MR: Is Somerset near  Devon? My stepfather is from Somerset. He was in Foreigner. That’s why my half-brother’s middle name is Somerset. We use to go there as kids. Remember when we played Glastonbury?

CW: Yeah, yeah.

MR: That was pretty cool.

CW: Yeah, that was amazing. I found out the day before and backstage I heard this huge crowd chanting. I thought, “oh my lord, everyone else is used to playing these big gigs, and this is the biggest place I’ve played!” I had the fear so bad. My wife was with me backstage, and I was underneath the caravans, curled up in a ball. She was like “You’ll be fine don’t worry. I’ll be in the front, just look at me.” And I just groaned. When my mum saw it on TV she said to me, ‘Oh, Charlie you look very wide-eyed.’

MR: What did you take?

CW: It’s not even like that. I was just amazed to hear my voice that loud.

MR: I feel so lucky to be able to play those shows. I am not trying to be humble, but at the end of the day I am a producer that made a record of covers because I was sick of the records in my DJ bag. When we played that day at the John Peel stage about 8,000 people came to see it — it just seems so surreal. And I understand that I maybe caught a little bit of lightning in a bottle, a moment in time, because I am not in a band and my next record isn’t going to evolve like they are. I might as well have my moment as an artist and feel fucking lucky to be there. It’s good for the soul.

CW: I haven’t got a soul. There’s nothing there.

MR: You’re right. I’ve looked and it’s actually pretty empty.

CW: Feel free to cry. Actually, the only reason I entered into this whole situation was to get into the tabloids.

MR: Just to go down to Bungalow 8.

CW: Yeah, I want to go down there.

MR: Well, I live in New York and the only time I am ever in tabloids is when I am in London by being associated with Lily and Amy. Here, nobody knows who the fuck I am, honestly. That’s what I like about living in New York,, it’s kind of like going back to an anonymous, regular existence.