John Power, vocalist/composer
In 1992, I transitioned from being a bass player in the La’s to creating my own band, Cast. At the time, I was in that blissful stage of developing as a songwriter, with a sense of idealism and naivete, and a belief that I could write a song that would resonate with people’s lives. Prior to this, I had already composed five songs for Cast’s first album, All Change. One day, while in my bedroom at my parents’ house, I stumbled upon the chorus for Walkaway. As I strummed my guitar, my hand naturally followed the vocal melody and I was suddenly struck with the realization that I had something special on my hands. I couldn’t believe I had created it.
Walkaway has that descending major scale that’s in so many great classical pieces, soul songs, even Dear Prudence by the Beatles. That cascading scale is like a rite of passage for songwriters: you’ll find it everywhere, but it’s never the same. At first, Walkaway sounded like some 1950s soul song – I didn’t know I could sing that high – but it eventually got transposed down.
The song discusses the feeling of having exhausted all options in a place or situation and realizing that staying there would be a disservice to oneself. There have been instances in my past when others have tried to dissuade me from my decision, causing some sadness as I left behind the La’s. However, I believe that Walkaway transcends my personal experience and takes on a life of its own when heard by others.
I frequently witness fans shedding tears or kissing to this song. Some individuals have shared with me that upon hearing it, they realized they needed to end their current relationship. Life can be unforgiving, capable of shattering one’s heart. Yet as I sing the lyrics “You never lose your dreams,” I do so with genuine sincerity, particularly now. When one chooses to leave a difficult situation, a blank page is laid out before them and they have the opportunity to reinvent themselves once more.
We recorded it with John Leckie at the Manor Studio, the massive residential studio where they did Tubular Bells. With the guitar solo, I wanted it to sound like shattered starlight. And because we had that descending scale, we needed strings.
I was unable to witness the widespread enthusiasm in the nation when Walkaway was played during the Euro 96 TV footage following the defeat of the England football team, as Cast was on tour in the US at that time. Many individuals have shared their heartfelt stories about the sorrow and national pride invoked by Walkaway, but unfortunately, I missed out on the entire experience.
I refrained from singing “Walkaway” for a long time because I lost the passion for the version of myself portrayed in those early songs. However, upon revisiting them, they no longer feel outdated. To me, “Walkaway” is relevant and current. Time seems to freeze when we perform it, making yesterday and tomorrow irrelevant. Unless, of course, you’re still recovering from Euro 96.
Liam ‘Skin’ Tyson, guitar
I first met John when he was in The La’s and I had also seen the early version of Cast. They performed Sandstorm, and while the band was not outstanding, it was clear that John had some great songs. After I joined, Walkaway was brought up during rehearsals, but the song truly came to life at the Manor Studio. We ended up with quite the wine tab there, but we were dedicated and recorded all day and into the late hours. Rumor had it that the studio was haunted and we all had some strange experiences. I had the largest room in the house, with a view of the lawn, and someone claimed to have seen me sitting in a chair outside- but it certainly wasn’t me.
For the sections featuring the guitar, we utilized a Leslie cabinet. Upon reflection, the audio evokes memories of “He Ain’t Heavy He’s My Brother” by The Hollies. In the intro, I strummed some fingerpicked harmonics, although I was not familiar with their technical term at the time – it was simply a captivating sound.
John desired for the guitar solo to resemble something from Captain Beefheart’s Bluejeans & Moonbeams. Despite using just pentatonic blues notes, my playing does not match the blues style and therefore does not have the intended sound. When performing, one can get lost in the music and not be actively thinking, then once it’s over, be pleasantly satisfied with the result.
The song Walkaway has a somber tone, yet it leaves you feeling empowered by the end. It is bittersweet to know that it was also played at the funerals for both John’s father and my grandfather. They had requested for the guitar solo to be included, as it was their favorite part of the music.
The production of the Walkaway video was not an enjoyable experience for me. It seemed to be trying to mimic an opium den, as I had to recline on a couch in a red velvet suit while the director burned incense. A canary was also present in a cage next to me, and at one point I asked for it to be removed due to its visible distress.
I have a memory of us heading to a concert at the Charlotte in Leicester in our small red van, affectionately named “the cat”. As we were getting gas, we suddenly heard our music playing on the radio. This moment marked the end of our performances in pubs, as we experienced an overwhelming surge in popularity.
Source: theguardian.com
