Francis Dunnery’s It Bites

It Bites’ original guitarist/singer plays dates with his own version of the band in January.

Francis Dunnery was the lead singer and guitarist with Cumbrian proggers It Bites, who he co-founded in ’82. After early hits including Calling All The Heroes and some critically acclaimed albums, he left the band in 1990. He was on the way to the debut gig by his blues-based project Tombstone Dunnery when Classic Rock caught up with him to get the lowdown on the upcoming tour with his own incarnation of It Bites.

You’ve lived in America for decades now. How does it feel to return to your homeland?

Getting off the plane after living with mad Americans, the place feels incredibly polite. I love being back.

Tombstone Dunnery is a celebration of the blues, right?

I got my blues education from Robert [Plant, whose 1993 album Fate Of Nations Dunnery played on]. Robert knows everything about the blues. The idea came about when I was listening to Robert Johnson. And then [rap artist] 50 Cent sang about never running from anyone in his life, because he had nowhere to go. That was a lightbulb moment for anyone who’s had alcoholic parents. It’s what the blues is. And as I listened more to it, it blew my mind.

Will there be a Tombstone Dunnery album next year?

Oh, totally. When I sat down with the guitar to write, the songs flew out of me.

You’ve had the name for a while. Didn’t you consider calling yourself that after leaving It Bites?

In the eighties I wound people up by saying I was going to change my name to Tombstone Dunnery. After that it became the Dunnery Tombstone. And then I thought that The Tombstone Dunnery was more poetic. When a friend suggested using the name Tombstone Dunnery for this [band] we all fell about laughing, because it’s the best blues name in the world.

In January Francis Dunnery’s It Bites play four dates. What sort of show have you got planned? It’s a celebration of that band, man. All of my other projects take me outside of my comfort zone. Tombstone Dunnery is completely new – band, songs and lyrics – but there’s something liberating about removing oneself from one’s comfort zone. Nobody learned anything by playing it safe.

How faithfully will you be replicating the songs? It’s completely faithful. There will be no jamming or anything like that. It Bites didn’t jam; we were a reflection of the progressive bands that we listened to, people like Focus, Yes or Genesis.

You’re taking out a great bunch of players; Maschine guitarist Luke Machin is a star of the future.

Luke is fantastic. He has that youthful spirit of someone who’s burning to make a name for himself. I haven’t really got that energy any more. That’s why I like the blues, because it has nothing to do with smoke machines or showing off.

What do you think the legacy of It Bites will be? We were friends from our infant school days. We were a proper unit that suffered together living in a squat in London for two years, which brought a great togetherness. Musically we were extremely good at the interplay between technicality and melody; we put The Beatles into Soft Machine, there were things like the Beach Boys and 10cc in what we did.

Do you hear any It Bites inf luence in any contemporary music?

I never listen to today’s music, it’s all so synthetic. Even things like Taylor Swift, the songwriting is impeccable but everything sounds like a backing track.

Back in 2021 you self-released a 42-song triple solo album titled The Big Purple Castle.

That was kind of like the final statement of my solo stuff. My entire career had led up to that album. It’s what I’ve been trying to say for forty years, although it’s not really been heard. People buy things for gimmicks; it isn’t really Guns N’ Roses, it’s Slash’s hat. Joni Mitchell’s Travelogue [2002] album is absolutely remarkably, insanely brilliant, but people haven’t heard that. To them she’s just this hippie chick.

You must be sad that The Big Purple Castle wasn’t more widely appreciated.

I’ve no regrets. In life you’ve just got to accept what is and not what isn’t. All its pains are caused by being unable to do that. I’m sixty years old, I’ve got a bald head, and a bad attitude because I’m completely unconcerned with what people think of me. That makes for a dangerous entity. I’ve no right to make people listen to my music, but it’s there if you want it.

Is there a potential situation in which you could play again with the original It Bites guys: John Beck, Dick Nolan and Bob Dalton?

It wasn’t me that stopped it last time we tried [in 2003]. The guys felt that me being in America was too impractical, or they just didn’t want to work with me, I don’t know.

But the door is not closed?

If someone offered five million dollars to make an album, just give me the fucking pen.

Francis Dunnery’s It Bites’ tour begins on January 19.