Born in Cambuslang, Midge Ure was the frontman of Ultravox and co-wrote Do They Know It’s Christmas? with Bob Geldof. He also helped to organise Live Aid.
What’s your earliest memory?
I’ve probably invented this, but I remember hearing a piece of music called Sleep Walk by two American guys called Santo and Johnny. I seem to remember listening to it in the pram, which doesn’t make any sense at all. But that’s my memory and I’m sticking to it.
Largs, where childhood holidays felt like a world away from home for UreAlamy
What was your first family holiday in Scotland?
Largs. It’s a real oddity because we’d leave our one-bedroom tenement slum in Cambuslang and go 30 miles down the road, having borrowed my uncle’s car, and live in an equally old tenement building in a square on Largs seafront. But there was something magical and exciting about it. It didn’t really matter where you were staying — it was the fact that you could get up in the morning and go buy a dozen rolls and some eggs and your dad would do the breakfast.
Is there a moment that changed your life?
Coming back from Ethiopia the first time. I found myself in a big house with a bunch of classic cars sitting in my garage, all doing nothing. I altered my lifestyle at that point, having come from a place where people had nothing.
Calgary BayAlamy
What’s your favourite place in Scotland?
Calgary Bay on Mull. We were married in the castle grounds. After the wedding we all walked down to the beach and took our shoes and socks off, and paddled about in the water with a glass of champagne in our hands. It was sunny and stunning, and it’s still my favourite place.
Any rumours you’d like to dispel?
There’s been a dreadful rumour that when Ultravox were writing Vienna, I told the producer Conny Plank that I had no idea what to sing “because it means nothing to me”. He’s meant to have said, “Well, just sing that.” Absolute nonsense.
What’s been your most embarrassing moment?
Maybe when I was with the Rich Kids [Ure’s band before Visage and Ultravox] during the punk era, and we’d often walk on stage to a sea of spit. On one occasion someone in the audience wasn’t well and had spat, and this horrible globule of green stuff was hanging off my microphone. I thought it would be really cool to scissor-kick the microphone and have someone come on and change it for me. Of course I couldn’t kick that high, missed the mic, spun over and landed on my back, and this green globule thing was still there when I got up, so it wasn’t very successful.
Who was your childhood hero?
Way too many to mention. Musical childhood heroes would include Steve Marriott from the Small Faces, the Beatles and Eric Clapton.
What three words sum you up?
Honest, realistic, fantasist.
Who would you say sorry to and why?
Mick Ronson, who was David Bowie’s guitarist during the Spiders from Mars period and an absolute hero of mine. I plucked up the courage to ask him to play guitar with my solo touring band in 1985, but during rehearsals it became apparent it wasn’t working out. Even though everybody else in the band was a massive Mick Ronson fan as well, they talked me into saying, “This is dreadful, it isn’t going to work out.” I’d like to go back — which I can’t, of course, because he’s no longer with us — and apologise.
David Bowie and Mick Ronson in 1972ITV/Shutterstock
What song would you have played at your funeral?
I don’t want one of these comedy songs — George Martin chose to have The Hole in the Ground at his memorial. I want something like The Black Isle: something haunting played on pipes or accordion. I want the congregation on their knees, crying. None of this jovial celebration stuff. I want sobbing and wailing and flailing of hands!
What has been your most memorable Scottish gig?
In about 1974 I played the Glasgow Apollo with Salvation, my first band, and Tiger Tim Stevens, who was a huge DJ at the time. It was just before Christmas and we played John and Yoko’s Happy Xmas (War Is Over), and the entire audience of 4,000 people sang along. It felt absolutely, unbelievably amazing.
What’s the best meal you’ve had in Scotland?
The steak pie we used to have on Hogmanay. It was always great, with the mashed potatoes and all the other stuff that went with it, but it was the fact that we ate it at 11pm that made it really exciting for me as a kid.
Can you describe your new album, A Man of Two Worlds?
I’ve been working on it for 12 years, which is ludicrous. It consists of two independent parts — one album of songs and one of instrumental music, where you can hear my roots, which are slightly Celtic and very melodic. It harks back to the laments we used to sing at school.
What do you have planned for the tour?
Hopefully to make it to the end. It’s always a stressful thing. The idea for this tour is that I segue a large chunk of the songs and instrumental pieces together, which in theory sounds easy but in practice is quite difficult.
Ure says he has been working on A Man of Two Worlds for over a decade
Who was your first celebrity crush?
Alexandra Bastedo, who used to be on The Champions. She was a stunningly elegant, beautiful woman.
Alexandra Bastedo, Ure’s first celebrity crushAlamy
If you could have done anything differently with Live Aid, what would it be?
I would have asked Phil Lynott to put Thin Lizzy back together, the way we asked Pete Townshend to put the Who together for it. Phil was an equally powerful frontman as Freddie Mercury, so the same thing that happened with Queen could quite easily have happened with Thin Lizzy. Even though Bob [Geldof] and I were friends with Phil it never crossed our minds, possibly because we didn’t think he was in good enough shape to do it.
Midge Ure’s Classic Collection tour plays SEC Armadillo, Glasgow, May 22, and Usher Hall, Edinburgh, May 24; midgeure.co.uk