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Peter Capaldi: “I would have loved to be a professional musician.”
Peter Capaldi: ‘I would have loved to be a professional musician.’ Photograph: Harry Borden/Getty Images
Peter Capaldi: ‘I would have loved to be a professional musician.’ Photograph: Harry Borden/Getty Images

Peter Capaldi: ‘Don’t worry, I don’t suddenly think I’m a rock star’

This article is more than 2 years old

The actor on political corruption, the genius of Terence Davies and making a solo album in his 60s

Peter Capaldi, 63, studied at Glasgow School of Art and landed his breakthrough acting role aged 24 on the film Local Hero. He’s best known for his Bafta-winning performance as spin doctor Malcolm Tucker in political satire The Thick of It and as the 12th Doctor in Doctor Who. His film roles include The Personal History of David Copperfield, The Suicide Squad and Paddington. As a director, he won an Oscar for his 1993 short film, Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life. At art college, he was briefly in a punk band; four decades later, he is releasing his first solo album, St Christopher.

You’re releasing your debut album aged 63. How did that happen?
We just set out to have some fun. My friend Dr Robert from the Blow Monkeys is a terrific musician and every year he hosts a kind of happening where disparate musicians come together for a recording session. He knew I played guitar and leaned on me to come along. It was very exciting to watch the real deal at work, so I scribbled out a song and they turned it into proper music within a day. I loved that, so with Robert’s encouragement, I had a go at writing more.

You wrote most of the songs in America, right?
Yes, I was shooting the Suicide Squad film in Atlanta for four months and had a lot of downtime, so I bought a cheap electric guitar and made demos on GarageBand. I’d send them to Robert, who very sweetly rejected a whole pile of my efforts until eventually we had enough to take into the studio. We’d booked Konk Studios in Crouch End, north London, which was great because it was the Kinks’ old studio and I love Ray Davies. That was cancelled due to lockdown but we sent the demos back and forth until we had something that appeared to be an album.

Why the title St Christopher?
I was always intrigued why the Catholic church got rid of Saint Christopher, who was a fabulous saint. They decided he wasn’t real but by then, it was too late because everyone liked him. The public saved him, rather like a TV talent contest. It’s a very showbiz story.

What are the album’s lyrical themes?
I was in a band at art school and our obsessions back then were melancholia, punk, synthesisers, power chords, rain and being pale and interesting. I fell back into that studenty groove. Although when you’re making your first record at 63, some of rock’n’roll’s traditional subject matter is closed to you. Don’t worry, I don’t suddenly think I’m a rock star. It was just some friends doing stuff they enjoy that got a bit… elaborate.

Have you sought the opinion of your cousin Lewis Capaldi?
I haven’t. I’m so proud of him. I didn’t really know Lewis as he grew up – I was long gone from Glasgow by that time – but went to one of his gigs three years ago and was knocked out. I was thrilled when he asked me to be in the video for Someone You Loved. I had no idea it would be such a gigantic hit. He’s a great talent. I’m not in that league.

As the Doctor alongside Pearl Mackie. Photograph: BBC/PA

Your college punk band was called the Dreamboys.
That’s right, the worst possible name. We were trying for a nightmarish Kafkaesque or Dr Caligari feel, not a troupe of Chippendales-type male strippers. On drums was Craig Ferguson, who went on to become a comedian on American telly. Craig was always hilarious. A powerhouse of a drummer, too.

How successful was the band?
We did OK, got our record played by John Peel and were part of a thriving scene. But after a while, we were banging our heads against a brick wall. In the old days, we’d put a song on tape, send it to a vinyl pressing plant in France, then physically take it around record shops, begging them to take a few copies. Now, technology allows anyone to put stuff out there. It’s democratised music, although it’d be nice if streaming services spread the money around.

Who are your musical influences?
The usual suspects for someone of my generation: Bowie, Lou Reed, Talking Heads, Sex Pistols. At art school in 1976, we all arrived dressed as Neil Young, with long hair and army greatcoats. When the Pistols happened, we came back the next term with peroxide hair and leather trousers. OK, plastic trousers. It was only in later life that I got into Dylan and Leonard Cohen. When you’re trying to write lyrics, they’re the ones to study.

Was your Doctor Who costume partly inspired by David Bowie?
Yeah, him and David Lynch, who used to do that buttoned-up white shirt thing. Another reason was I thought kids could look like the Doctor without having to spend any money. Rather than buying a costume, they could just button up their school shirt.

Your Doctor also wielded an electric guitar. Was that your idea?
Between my first and second seasons, I said it’d be fun if the Doctor had a guitar to plug into the Tardis console. It was just an idea, I never dreamed it would happen. I imagined the Doctor might have invented the wah-wah pedal. We could’ve done an historical episode where he met Jimi Hendrix and introduced him to this piece of alien technology. I also thought there could be a great blues episode. When Robert Johnson meets the devil at the crossroads, the Doctor could discover something extraterrestrial going on.

What would Malcolm Tucker make of the Owen Paterson and Geoffrey Cox affairs?
The whole thing is so awful, it’s beyond a joke. I wouldn’t invoke Malcolm Tucker in these circumstances. We’re in real trouble and people have to wake up to this. Actually, maybe Malcolm could shout and help wake them up to this terrible government.

Succession fans often come up to Brian Cox and ask him to tell them to fuck off. Were Thick of It fans similar?
It used to happen a lot. You could say “Fuck off and get a life”, which was quite enjoyable. Sometimes they’d get me to phone up their mates and give them a bollocking. It’s great to see Brian’s success. He’s an astonishing actor.

You can sometimes hear an echo of Malcolm Tucker in Succession’s dialogue.
Well, some of the writing team are Thick of It veterans. Armando Iannucci’s influence over two generations of writers and performers is immense. You can trace Succession back to him in a way.

Next up you play Siegfried Sassoon in Terence Davies’s film Benediction. What drew you to that role?
Sassoon is a fascinating character and a wonderful poet but it was Terence who interested me more than anything. He’s an absolute artist who’s made some of the most amazing moments ever put on film. He’s a treasure of British cinema, a chronicler of our culture and it’s a scandal that he struggles to get finance for his not-very-expensive films. People like him should be cherished and supported.

If you had your time again, would you still be an actor?
I wouldn’t change anything. I would’ve loved to be a professional musician but that would’ve also had its ups and downs, so I’m happy to be coming to it at this late stage. My life has been enormously blessed. All the side-waters and strange corners I’ve gone around have made me who I am.

St Christopher is released on 19 November by Monks Road Records. Benediction will be in cinemas early 2022.

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